The ‘goods’ in the week of May 24th.

This week has had its ups and downs. I have woken up extremely sad and unmotivated each morning. I have also dreamed of both my parents and strangely, I remembered the dreams. I never remember any of my dreams before. So I am counting that as one of my goods of the week.

My cousin sister came down from Boston to stay with me for a month. She and I grew up together along with her brother so we have many, many shared memories of my parents.

Reminiscing with her has brought smiles.

Sahana printed two vibrant photos of ma and baba. I have them on our coffee table. Looking at those photos make me happy. After a gloomy weekend, the sun is shining on their photos today.

We did a shanti pujo for them on Sunday at our local Kali temple.

The ritual gave me some peace and a sense of closure. This morning I did not wake up with debilitating sadness. The ritual was not heavy on religiosity but full of ideas, thoughts, metaphors and spirituality.

The few cousins who live in this country were there at the pujo and then came home with us.

I joined back to work mid week and took 2 days worth of training on race and justice. While I learnt a lot about the horrific history of injustice in this country, I realized my personal trauma is so recent I felt numb towards other people’s pain. I don’t know why I am writing this as ‘goods’ since I felt guilty about not feeling more deeply about injustice.

I look forward to going back to my library branch to work from June 1st. I think being back at work will keep me distracted.

I finished a John Grisham book last night. It almost took me a month but I did finish it.

I have to live on because I have a lot to live for.

I know my parents would want me to be happy. I will be….one day.

My husband, my children and my cousin sister along with my community of friends continue to be of great comfort.

The “goods” in the week of May 17th.

Again, it feels quite morbid to find the “goods” in a week when baba died. Thinking about the “goods” is therapeutic though and it shifts my focus away from sorrow.

Baba’s end was peaceful. Like ma, he went gently into the night.

He never had to know that ma had passed away.

He was in his own home cared for by people who cared about him.

My friend from Hyderabad called long distance to arrange for steady supply of oxygen cylinders to make sure baba could breathe.

My friend’s husband, a physician, took baba’s caregiver’s call at any hour and guided him over video call. He took charge of my father’s well being and did his best to help him recover. When I approached my friend regarding his fee they declined.

My cousin registered him for health department in case he needed readmittance to hospital.

My friend from school and her husband stayed in constant touch with the caregiver, ready to help.

A friend from social media who I never met in real life jumped into action making calls for oxygen.

I write all this to show that people fought with him and for him.

My flowers look beautiful and there is not a single weed in sight. Weeding, watering and tending to the plants have been truly comforting.

Sahana graduated from college with magna cum laude in both her majors.

I went to Sahana’s graduation and met my big, beautiful family that I married into. They held my hand, lend a ear and just loved. I could give my mother in law a hug after over a year.

Ma and baba would be happy to know I am enveloped in love and kindness by friends and family near and far in my time of need.

Graduation

I did not feel an emptiness in my heart when the black and yellow school bus swallowed my 5 year old Sahana to take her to her first day of kindergarten. I must admit I felt a sense of relief instead of sadness at the separation. I was relieved because little Sahana could not wait to get to kindergarten and start a new life in a new country. We had just moved to United States right before she started kindergarten. She was trying to understand and get acclimated to her new environment and she was looking forward to making friends in school. After kindergarten, there were other transitions – finishing elementary, moving on to middle school and then high school. High school years passed in the blink of an eye and a beautiful morning dawned for her high school graduation. She got admission to the college she wanted to attend.

Right before she went off to college, I had pangs of separation, of course. However, seeing her eagerness to experience college made me happy. She could not wait to leave home. And I was simply in awe of this young woman who was ready to move on and embrace a bigger universe.

We drove her to her college, got her settled in her dorm room and then it was time to say goodbye. We all went down the stairs of her dorm together. She stood on the pavement as we got in our car and started to drive away. I looked back to see her lone self standing on that pavement waving us good bye. I felt this immeasurable emptiness in my heart then as she got smaller and smaller in our rear view mirror till we turned a corner and we couldn’t see her anymore.

Four years have passed since then. In her junior year she waved us goodbye at the airport and boarded a flight for Madrid, Spain to spend her junior year abroad. While I was sad to see her go I was, however, more excited for all the adventures that awaited her out there. And adventures she had, the first being losing her luggage after she landed in Madrid. She arrived but her luggage did not. That unpleasant experience, thankfully, was followed by mostly fantastic experiences, knowledge, travel and friendships.

Covid 19 struck when she was in her 7th month in Madrid. She had to pack within 2 days to board a flight home. Her senior year in college was spent at home, in her room, taking classes via Zoom. She handled everything with mostly good spirits, hoping she would be able to graduate in person. That did not turn out the way she had hoped.

But today is the culmination of all her hard work and her resilience after being robbed of a senior year experience. Today she graduates with a college degree, magna cum laude in both her majors, with big dreams to give back to the world that has given her so much. My heart explodes with pride, love and joy as this young woman emerges in the world with so much potential.

Congratulations Sahana!

The ‘goods’ this week, April 26th, 2021

As a library worker, I am thrilled! I am absolutely thrilled that my daughter got an outreach programming job at a renowned library system. She interviewed on Monday, and they called her on Tuesday to offer her the job. It was a virtual interview so I could hear some of her answers. As I heard her coherent, well thought out responses, my mommy heart filled up with pride yes, but also with wonder. She sounded so grown up, so mature and thoughtful. Since this position which she truly longed for is part time, she also got a job in our neighborhood Starbucks. Her response to the question “why do you want to work at Starbucks?” made me smile. She told the manager that Starbucks has been her reset button since she was in high school. Before an exam or after, before something important or after, during her solo Europe trip, whenever she needed a reset she sought out a Starbucks. At this juncture in her life when she just graduated and is contemplating her place in the big world ahead of her, she opted for her reset and that is why she is looking for a job there. The manager hired her despite this honest confession. For a lover of library as well as coffee, these two jobs seem like a double win for Madammommy.

I destroyed a paneer dish and then resurrected it to be truly delicious by using my ingenuity. Pat on the back because I am all that.

I woke up at 4 am on Monday to take Ryan to his 5 am practice. It was the day before pink moon. However, a brilliant (white) moon followed us all the way to Ryan’s school and then it kept me company all the way home. I kept my eyes on the roads, of course but the company of that bright, white orb in the sky above the lonely deserted road when the whole world was asleep was a peaceful sight. But no, I will not do it every week. I am not a morning person, Sean is. I only took him one morning because Sean had to work late.

We had warm days!! Hallelujah. My old bones need the sun.

I am talking to my mom while dad listens in, almost everyday.

I answered a phone call at work which made my day. The woman on the phone wanted me and my coworkers to know that we kept her sane by providing books and DVDs during pandemic. She was so very kind.

I helped a distraught woman print out some documents at work. When she tentatively asked how much it would cost, I said the print job was free. Her face lit up. She had been paying $5 to $6 at UPS store for printing documents. Her husband lost his job and money is tight. Working at a public library is extremely gratifying.

I make book suggestions all the time, completely unsolicitated. I got a message on wsapp from a long lost friend who read Funny in Farsi by Firozeh Dumas upon my recommendation and absolutely loved it. I think she read my review on my blog site. A couple of hours after her message, I got another message from a colleague who read The Remarkable Journey of Coyote Sunrise by Dan Gemeinhart upon my suggestion and asked when could we talk about it. She felt all the ‘feels’ as she read the book. She even said she will be open to reading anything I recommend. She does not know what she is wishing for. 🤣

Sahana got her second Covid vaccine shot on Sunday. I am so grateful.

I wrote and posted 8 days in a row which has never happened before.

Happy Monday, my friends. Stay healthy, stay alive.

PS: Ryan cleaned his closet last night. That totally classifies as one of my ‘goods’ for the week. 😀

The ‘goods’ this week, April 19, 2021

Since I started this exercise, I am making a mental note of what is good and writing it down as soon as I get a chance. I am not allowing a good moment to pass by without acknowledging it. That is good in itself. However, India is blowing up in Covid cases, many flights going to India have suspended their service, CDC has rated India at the highest level of danger zone. So it has been hard to focus on the good lately but I tried and that has to be enough.

The ‘goods’ this week are as follows:

Ryan got his first Pfizer shot. Now both the kids have at least one shot in them.

Sahana had ordered a cap and gown for her upcoming virtual graduation from college. They came and she tried them on. The special day is not going to be what we hoped for but we will make the best of it.

I got to see 2 of Ryan’s high school water polo games. He is a mean defender and he scored 2 goals yesterday. Most importantly, he is so animated and happy on game days.

Our work will transition to one full day a week and I will get to work with my dear friend who I hardly see any more as our schedules are completely different these days.

I read Brother by David Chariandy for the second time for my book club and felt the author’s luminous prose at the core of my heart. Sometimes sheer beauty of words brings tears to one’s eyes.

I am rehearsing for a play that will be sent to North Atlantic Bengali Association in July. It is a short skit but I do enjoy acting and it takes my mind off from what is going on in real life.

I have quite a few good books waiting for me to read. They are adorning my book shelf. It makes me happy to look at them as they hold unknown stories within their pages.

I did some weeding this week. Although only half of the flower bed is done. I will tackle that.

Warmer weather is on its way.

We tentatively went out to eat in a restaurant. The restaurant was empty so we felt comfortable.

Sean and I went for a walk. As we talked I realized, yet again, how much I love him.

As I ground coffee beans for tomorrow’s first cup of coffee, I looked out of the kitchen window and witnessed a glorious sun set.

I am surprised that this list went on for as long as it did. I am glad I am writing this every week. I am thankful for all the ‘goods’ and the fact I am mindful of them.

Happy Monday and have a great week.

What was good this week.

My sweet coworker wrote an email saying a previously owned Le Creuset Dutch oven was free to a good kitchen. I happened to be on my work email when her email popped up. Instantly, I hit reply saying “Me! Pick me!” She did. I was happy because I kept thinking of buying a Dutch oven but balked at the price. When she wrote back saying the Dutch oven was mine, my first thought was “I am going to make biriyani in that Dutch oven.”

Although that is good – me scoring a Dutch oven, the best part, however, is my daughter’s joy at the news that a Dutch oven will be coming home. She actually squealed with joy and instantly started looking at recipes. Biriyani will have to wait. The new appliance will be inaugurated with Julia Child’s beef bourguignon. And then no knead bread I am told.

It may sound odd to some but my daughter came to the library to browse for her allotted 45 minutes after over a year. Seeing her roaming the stacks and making a huge pile of books for check out was amazing.

I submitted some bureaucratic papers which were causing me anxiety.

I finished a really engrossing, 900 plus pages book – The Evening and The Morning by Ken Follett. It is a prequel to his Kingsbridge series and I commend it to all who simply wants a captivating story set in early Middle Ages.

Sean and I went for a hike and I got to sit by a gurgling river and watch an Irish setter fetch sticks from the water.

I looked up at the blue sky with wispy white clouds over foliage of promising, young green and thanked the universe for granting me this scenery. I felt humbled at the beauty.

Ryan is driving me around. He took us to Indian grocery store and I got served by my favorite Indian gentleman. He has such a kind demeanor about him. I was holding a bag of samosas close to my shirt, he warned me that my shirt may get oil stains as he rang up my fare. I stocked up on Indian snacks as I inhaled the familiar smell of home in that store. Then we got Indian food for lunch.

Sahana’s departmental graduation was yesterday. It was virtual and not what she hoped for, however, it is the culmination of her hard work. In my books, that is good.

Sean and I went out to Annapolis, enjoyed a lovely day, tasty lunch and ice cream.

I will post my ‘goods’ on Mondays to start off the week.

What’s good in my town?

My friend and fellow blogger whose blog site I encourage you to check out at http://theycallmetater.com writes about What’s Good in Tater Town. While I read his posts diligently and like what he writes, I love his posts about What’s Good in Tater Town the most. As I sat outside today and looked at the most beautiful blue sky, the hopeful green of early spring, fat bunnies in my back yard and the familiar ping of ball hitting a baseball bat in the baseball fields behind my house, I realized THIS was good in MY town. Yet my inside was clenched over anxiety about rising Covid cases in India, when can I go home, health and well being of my parents, my distance from them and thousand other thoughts. The constant anxiety is probably taking away years from my life. And then I thought about my friend’s post about what ‘his’ good is in his town. He enlists having dinner with his son and daughter as something good that happened, reading out in the deck is something good that happened, getting a free coffee from Dunkin is something good that happened. These are indeed good things that happened. He notices these, acknowledges these and writes them down. I too have these moments but I am so busy worrying that I gloss over them. And lose them in the process.

So I mindfully looked around me to honor the beautiful day. I looked at the new green and appreciated the life it promised. I had dinner with my family and I focused on what they said. Ryan had a weekend of fantastic swim meet, dropping time in all his events. That was good. Sahana got her first vaccine. That was amazing.

I think I will follow my friend’s example and write down what is good in my town. Who knows, perhaps I will inspire someone to look within their life to find the ‘goods’ like I was inspired?

Footsteps at the doctor’s office

I pulled the robe tightly around me as I moved my bottom to get comfortable on the examination bed in my ob/gyn’s office. The crinkly paper underneath me crinkled in protest. I gave up trying to be comfortable and looked at my watch. I was waiting for 20 minutes now in a cold office with only a flimsy robe around me, ready to be examined by my adorable, very competent, extremely chatty gynecologist.

I have been going to her for the last 13 years and I adore her. Every year I worry she will retire and I will be left in a lurch. But after my exam and consultation, she gives me a hug and promises to see me next year. The problem is, she is friendly and chatty with ALL her patients. As a result, she is always running late to see her patients who are waiting next in line. I have learned over the years to ask the nurse how late is Dr.___ running that day. The answer I get from them is hopefully not too long, but who knows with Dr.____. Then we share a conspiratorial smile.

The nurse I got today is very new. She did not know how late the doctor was running. She also registered my weight 10 pounds less than I actually weigh but that is beside the point of this story. So I waited in a thin gown on an anxiety provoking examination bed in that solitary room. Generally I read a book. Today I simply looked at the cat decorations in the room, listened to the calming classical music playing in the background and paid attention to every sound that came from outside the examination room. I heard the footsteps coming towards my room, hope rose up in my chest and then fell as the footsteps went past my door. I heard voices, conversation, laughter and tried to discern if it was my doctor’s voice – finishing up with a patient. I could not tell. I heard pitter patter again outside my door and started to feel hopeful only to have my hopes dashed as my door did not open. It was a strange roller coaster of hope followed by disappointment with every sound of footsteps and conversation outside my door. Finally, when I was wondering if I should get my book out from my bag, I heard the welcome rat-a-tat-tat on the door. The door opened and in she came with a welcoming, “Hi honey! It is so good to see you. Oh my! Look at your hair. You are so gorgeous.”

I did not get a hug this time with Covid and all. But I got a promise of ‘see you next year, darling. You are in great health!’

I vowed to get her first appointment of the day next time. Although, she is totally worth the wait for her bedside manners and old school charm. These characteristics seem like lost treasures.

Tired Times – a poem by Sahana

Sahana has been writing a lot during the pandemic. She shared some poems with me and gave me permission to share with the world. Here is one.

Tired Times

It’s been hard to leave my bed,

Not because I’m depressed,

But this time because emerging from the cocoon of warmth without a shell,

Kafkaesque, to protect the softest parts of me,

Means I risk getting hurt, tearing something on a sharp edge,

Loose threads being tugged away without my knowledge or consent,

By the news or the flashing screen of my phone, lighting up with notifications

That just bring me dread now, honestly, after years of craving their validation.

It’s the shit I don’t wanna see, don’t want to know how many we’ve lost,

Don’t want to feel the weight of the lives we’ve built crumbling before my eyes,

Feeling like my metamorphosis was forced into an untimely pause.

I had been blooming into something, I’m sure of it.

Something bolder, the way I had always hoped,

No chip on my shoulder, learning how to walk again,

No hand holding this time, there was no need

No pressing expectation holding me by the throat and pinning me to the wall,

Rather, gentle hopes, laying me down, soft hands holding cheeks,

Looking me in the eyes and telling me I could.

But she couldn’t stay, hope was needed in other people’s hearts and I had a home to go to.

But when my mother, father, brother, huddle outside my door and ask to be let in, I can’t speak,

The pincers in my mouth choke down any cries for help and

The weight of my body pulls me through my bed on the floor,

Devastating dreams and I want to wake up,

But I know waking means looking in the mirror.

Waking means seeing that it’s real.

It means, knowing and going through the same paces,

Wanting to live the life I had in my grasp and had taken away from me.

I pace in a liminal state, subway station, under the earth,

Waiting for the character development or even better, an eventful end.

But the dreams don’t stop and the living doesn’t either,

Almost at the break of dawn at every turn, but the sun slips back under the horizon,

So I sit with the tired times, and wait for a new morning, sometime.

There are 3 things that are good right now.

Everything seems sad at this time. If I read this blog in about 5 years, I will most likely (hopefully) be in a happier state of mind. I am writing this blog for that future ‘happy’ me. Here are some things to juggle your memory ‘future happy me’:

We are in the middle of a pandemic.

I am the only one going to work for limited hours right now, the others are going to school, working from home.

200,000 people in America died from Covid 19 thus far.

RBG died and it looks like Trump administration will fill the Supreme Court vacancy with a conservative judge.

I can not go home.

But 3 things are going well for me right now.

On the suggestion of a friend, I started watching Mandalorian on Disney plus and I love it. I go through all day with the hope of watching one episode at night with Ryan. I love seeing baby Yoda.

The second show that is now a bright spot in my life is The Call of Midwife. Each episode brings forth different characters in 1950’s England, dealing with a harsh life, childbirth, loneliness and yet the young midwives and nurses in Nonnatas house go out everyday caring for the vulnerable.

The third thing that I look forward to these days is Abir Mukherjee’s Death in the East. Sam Wyndham is in Devraha Swami’s ashram in Jatinga, Assam. He has voluntarily come here to treat his opium addiction. On his way to the Ashram he thinks he saw a man from his past, 1905 to be precise when he was a young constable involved in solving the murder of Bessie Drummond. Mukherjee has done it again.

Ps: I wrote this blog a while ago when there were 200,000 death is USA. Now we are about to cross 400,000 grim milestone. I have long finished the book I mention and also the 2 shows. Some worries remain – my anxiety for my parents, my family catching the virus, despondency for no one specific reason. However, the vaccine is being administered. Hopefully, we can get vaccinated in the coming months and all the procedures for going to Kolkata will either be lifted or at least relaxed so I can go home.