• My Monsoon Mumbai

    A palm tree seen through many raindrops.
    A palm tree seen through many raindrops. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    Well, for all those who’ve been grumbling the whole of June that it’s not rained a drop, that it’s hot as hell, that it’s the el Nino effect ( or la Nina I can’t tell the difference between either!!) I hope you guys are happy now. It’s literally been pouring buckets these past few days  and hopefully the rains will fall in the reservoirs that need them and not the roads that protest!

    The Mumbai rains have a strange violent beauty to them with their big, fat raindrops that come lashing down in sheets of water that ting ting tong tong all day long. And when the skies have emptied out their fullness, it slows down to a pitter patter gently settling on your glistening hair
    The fierce winds that make the palm trees bend, rip open raincoats, and blow away roof tops with gusts of wind that turn umbrellas inside out and leave you drenched no matter what. The puddles of water with gurgling bubbles and ripples that greet the rivulets of brown gushing down the hills.
    Crowded roads with cars creeping slowly, cheek by jowl as wipers sweep the drops of rain that make the street a Monet landscape, impressionist watercolours in shades of grey.
    The squish of  shoes squelching water and squirmy toes as you wade in  water above your knees.
    Or maybe just a walk down Marine Drive pelted with waves that come crashing through
    Past dogs that shiver pitifully or lovers dancing in the rain.
    Returning home to a steaming hot shower to wash off road  smells and warm the bones now cold and numb; to ease the crinkles of wet fingers that curl around a cup of tea.
    Perhaps some coffee or a hot fiery rassam that makes your nose drip like a rain drop
    and onion bhajias or soggy toast
    A thin film of damp which traps the dust on the window panes and table tops for you to doodle time away.
    Watching chick flicks on tv all snuggled up in bed or chatting on the phone for hours instead.

    p.s. Claude Monet was an iconic French Impressionist Artist. Check out everything about him here .

  • Ursula Mniszech with daughters
    Ursula Mniszech with daughters (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    Keerthika who blogs at Wealthy Matters always posts stuff that is relevant, succinct and useful. Her post on Mothering set me thinking today.

    Why do most women of my generation have issues with their children and particularly with their daughters. What is it that makes the relationship so fractious? Is it that we expect our daughters to be better than ourselves? Or is it that we feel that as our children we have the right to say whatever we feel we want to them, unmindful of their sensitivities? Or is it just that our sons tend to turn a deaf ear to whatever is is we say and don’t bother while it is our daughters take things to heart?

    Mothers and daughters have always had a love hate relationship. Mothers often expect their daughters to be their clones if not an improvement on the model. It doesn’t help that more often than not, daughters take after their fathers and know from a young age what makes daddies happy. So it makes mothering of daughters an even more difficult task. We want our daughters to be independent and self sufficient but we still want them to remain our little girls deep down inside. While we admire them for traveling all over the place on their own, we still worry for them and their safety.

    As mothers we like to point out what we feel needs to be brought to a child’s notice even when the child is 60 years old but sadly, a 60 year old son will indulge his mother with a smile while a 60 year old daughter will give a cold hard look or snap back her irritation. As grown up daughters who are possibly better qualified and more independent than their mothers, they are expected to know it all or at least be prepared to know the consequences of their actions. But equally as mothers it is hard to completely cut the umbilical chord and even though there is an actual physical separation, the bonds that bind continue to do so, perhaps even getting tighter as the years go by.

    Advancing age breaks down barriers and communication becomes easier with fewer subjects remaining taboo. However, that does nothing for making us more accepting of our mother’s criticism. After all a mother of all people is supposed to be unconditionally loving, ever forgiving and supportive, nurturing, mentoring and her best cheerleader. But why does a mother’s suggestion become a barb or her observation a catty remark?

    Keerthika’s post reaffirmed my faith that children need don’t need their mothers to be their friends – they have plenty of those. They need a mother who is a mother and I’m glad to know that when my children say they hate me, I’m an effective mom.

  • Ashadhi Ekadashi

    The Hindu God Vishnu with his consort Lakshmi ...
    The Hindu God Vishnu with his consort Lakshmi resting on Sheshnag. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    Today is Ashadhi Ekadashi or the start of Lord Vishnu‘s holidays. He, the Preserver of the Universe takes his annual break for four months so it is up to us to look after ourselves. Lots of people commemorate this day with fasting or feasting on foods that are allowed to be eaten.

    Happy Holidays Lord Vishnu!

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