No more hair brushes!

I detangled my hair with grim determination. “I will win this battle today even if I go bald in the process.” I thought, gnashing my teeth. Once the tangles were mindfully untangled, I looked up in the mirror. There was a halo of frizz around my head. I had read a meme somewhere which said something to the effect of those who have naturally curly or wavy hair, they are not doing well in this heat. They look like alpacas. That was me in front of the mirror, after 15 minutes of determined detangling. I was an alpaca. I sighed as I rubbed some argan oil to calm the frizz down.

I have written a lot about my hair and my love/hate relationship with it. I have worn it long for most of my life and also worn it very short for about 10 years. Since childhood I grew up not loving my hair. The standard set for little girls was ‘reshmi zulfein’ (silky straight hair) by media, shampoo companies, hair oil companies. My hair was the opposite. Thick, unruly (read wavy), frizzy. I tried hard to tame it. For years, I diligently straightened it to get the silky, straight sheen till I didn’t. One day, I was late for work. I washed my hair but didn’t have the time to dry it or straighten it. People at work stopped me to ask what I had done, it looked so lovely. It had naturally curled itself. That was the day I felt liberated. No more drying, no more straightening. I was going natural.

I still put a comb through my hair though. Lately, we are experiencing intense humidity in our area. And the frizz has been out of control, to say the least. One day, I did not comb my hair after washing it. I put some leave in conditioner, some argan oil and put my fingers through my hair. And I got compliments. “Your hair looks lovely.” What?? The more I let go, the better I look? 🙂

I write all of the above in jest, of course. I do take care of it, brush it before bed time. The point I am trying to make is, at the end of the day, I have reached a place where I feel comfortable with who I am.

My little cousin sent me a poem recently that truly resonated with me.

Blooming Bare

And after the tears had dried,

my vision and voice became clear.

From my darkest shadow pierced the purest light.

I found myself:

Bruised, beautiful, and bare

Stripped of every comfort

but clothed in truth.

Blooming where I was once broken.

– Morgan Richard Olivier

It is age? Is it grief? Is it a combination of both? But I feel myself evolve from my earlier insecure, self doubting self. I look at myself in the mirror these days and look beautiful in my own eyes. I don’t care about how others see me. When I apply kajol to my eyes, or put on lipstick, I do them for myself. I have learned the art of saying a polite but assertive ‘no’ to things I don’t wish to do. I don’t conjure up excuses any more. I simply say I don’t want to do that and hence, no, I will not. I have become politely assertive. My feelings are not hurt as easily. I have lowered my expectations from others, including my family. I mindfully practice kindness to others and myself. I practice empathy. Everyone is fighting their own battles, I try to remember that. If I like something I always comment on it. Life is short and people will remember how you made them feel. I try to understand the changing world around me by reading books. Books help me take a closer look at my implicit biases and act on them. They have been my best friends throughout this journey. They have taught me, entertained me, made me cry and laugh out loud. They have given me words that I needed to hear and find solace in the thought that I was not alone as I lived through dark times.

I was not just broken but shattered just 2 years ago. I don’t know if I am blooming but I am putting pieces of me together. Not brushing my hair may seem like letting myself go but it is quite the opposite really. In my case, it is coming together. It is realizing my worth which is not dependent on the norms set by society. It is the knowledge that I like the person I have become, wet, uncombed hair and all. 🙂

It is my ma’s birthday.

I thought I would go to the local Kali temple after work to celebrate ma’s birthday. After their death, I did a ‘shanti pujo’ at the temple. I remember experiencing a fleeting sense of peace as the priest explained the path of the soul and me freeing them by saying, “Go in peace. Rest now. You don’t have to take care of me any more.”

I felt peaceful then but ma would have laughed out loud if I suggested a trip to a temple to celebrate her birthday. I simply can not wish this woman “Happy heavenly birthday, ma”. She did not believe in heaven. And if heaven exists, she certainly did not aspire to go there. She was a trouble maker, rabble rouser, a materialistic woman who had a loud laughter and lit up the room with her presence. She teased and laughed and loved despite many, many years of struggle that she had to go through. She was flawed, she was kind and she was my idol. She refused to fit into a mold. She loved me deeply and gave up a lot in life to provide me with the best opportunities that could possibly be provided. She wanted to give, always. She was a giver. My friends from both school and college came home and promptly went to chat with ‘kakima’ because despite all the hardships, ma had joie de vivre that appealed to both young and old.

On this day, every year, a boyal mach er lyaja (a fish) came to our house for her. If you are reading this, if you live in a place where you get boyal mach and if you like that fish, eat a piece in her honor. I don’t get that fish here. Sahana and I plan to hit the mall, watch a movie, eat Chinese food and celebrate her life-long love. The tradition of watching movie with moms continue, as Sahana pointed out to me this morning. I left my friends and adda to go to movie with ma. My friends joked, “Who goes to movies with their moms at this age?” I laughed and said, “I do.”

It is my ma’s birthday. This was a happy day in my life. I will try very hard to remember that this used to be a very happy day in my life.

The “goods” in the week of July 19th.

The whole point of this exercise is to be mindful of little things which enrich my life. It is to be aware of the small picture and not simply live through the moment which was good. The point is to acknowledge them. I thought of skipping this blog of “goods” this week. It has been a long week of routine. This week has been one of remembering and being sad of my loss. But I still had some “goods” and I want to write those down.

I have been hitting my step goal every day. I go for my walks and then during my breaks at work I go around the grounds of our library and end up at the library garden before going in.

I went to the farmer’s market with my friends and bought bread, coconut cupcakes and absolutely delicious strawberry balsamic vinegar.

On Wednesday I was supposed to drive to pick up Ryan from his school after practice, but my angel of a daughter finished her work early and offered to go in my stead. I could go home and relax instead.

My garden looks vibrant with colors. My osteospermum, in other words, African daisy plants lay fallow for many weeks. All of a sudden they are full of buds and flowers.

Ryan finished fifth week of summer biology and talks a lot about what he is learning. He seems excited. One more week to go.

Ryan’s swim practice will end next week. The anticipation of not having to drive him for a few weeks is one of my “goods” for sure.

I find myself laughing with my coworkers more these days. Sometimes I surprise myself that I can laugh again. But that is good. That is moving forward. My parents would have wanted that.

Ryan scored well in his Advanced Placement test of World History. Funnily that was surprising to both of us as he said he did not test well in that subject. He also did not know when the result was coming out. My friend, whose daughter took an AP test told me she got her result. I checked and there it was. I worry about that boy about his organization skills.

I love sitting down with Sahana at the end of our days and exchange customer stories from our respective work places.

Ryan had a swim meet in Virginia this weekend. Sean and I dropped him off at the facility and drove to nearby Leesburg. We walked around the historic downtown and ended up having lunch in a cute restaurant called Shoe’s Cup and Cork. I had a good day.

On Sunday, while Ryan swam, Sean and I walked by Potomac river. I paused by the river for a while and thought about ma and baba.

This week I had a long conversation with my cousin in India. Both our mothers died on the same day within 10 hours of each other’s death. Interestingly enough, these two sisters-in-law were close friends as well and we both remember their giggly youth. We laughed about how they planned their exit together to giggle some more like yester years and eat junk food like they used to. Then we both cried. My memories of our shared childhood is a comfortable place to land when my grief becomes too intense. I told her that.

Ryan got best times in 6 of his 7 events. His happiness at his achievement after putting in hard work is definitely in my list of “goods”. Ma and baba were embarrassingly proud of both of their grandkids. I bet they are bragging about them to whoever will listen as I write this.

There were still moments of sadness during days (and a sleepless night) but there were no I-can’t-breathe anxiety this week.

May your list of “goods” be long. Hope you have a great week.

Filling in with life.

The beauties featured in the photograph are the cynosure of my eyes right now. After Sage’s death, a dear friend gifted me a blooming orchid. She said seeing a new life bloom may soothe me after the loss. She was absolutely right. As each bloom unfolded its potential and spread its beauty, I was mesmerized. I sat by it thinking of my years with Sage but not in a melancholy way. The quiet splendor of the orchid gave me peace.

Another friend is a nurturer of indoor plants and succulents. The pictures of her plants on Instagram inspired me to buy a succulent for myself. Although I enjoy flowers immensely, I am sad to admit, I kill plants. Understandably, I was nervous to buy the succulent fearing I may be incapable of keeping even a hardy plant alive. My friend encouraged me. “I believe in you” she said. I ventured out and bought 3 succulents. I kept them on the sunny ledge of the balcony where Sage used to sit and reign over his domain. I added 2 basil plants, a mint plant and 2 pepper plants to the mix. Now Sage’s ledge is completely covered by new life. I like to sit by them, savor their quiet beauty and think of him.

This was his space. He ruled his world from here.

I managed to keep all the plants alive this year. They seem to be thriving. So I got ambitious and bought more succulents for inside my house. I work and read next to them now, glancing over often to marvel at how beautiful they are, how full of life. Sahana bought some baby ones for her room and now we have quite a collection of quiet yet vibrant life in and out of our house.

Sage left us with emptiness and quiet. The plants fill up that emptiness with their lives. They maintain the quiet. I don’t mind it. Their radiating beauty soothes my soul.