Thursday, September 25, 2014

A mother’s daily joy

I have not written a letter to my daughter for a long time now but it does not mean that I don’t have my daily joys and laughter with her. Yesterday after office, we went to my cousin’s house where they were making a tshog offering. There, when one of my cousins asked her what she studies at school, she stood in front of her in full attention and sang the ‘ABC song’ to her. Back at home, she played with the marker and the white board. She wrote something and then showed me saying, ‘P’. She had really written a P. She had learned to write ‘A’ quite sometime back and I didn’t consider it too striking (I don’t know why).

Then she also wrote the letter ‘B’. 



I think she is being taught nursery rhymes and how to draw and write. This is probably too early for her. I don’t want her to feel any pressure at all but if she is taking this as some fun thing to do – something like playing with a new toy, that is okay with me. I am still with the view that she should be sent to school only at the age of six. She must have a childhood like I did and she must not feel the pressure of time, schedule, routine and school yet, though, in some ways she already has a different time now – of having to go to a child care centre.



She is more active than many children and it sometimes is difficult but at most times, I feel lucky. Like four days back, we had the most excruciatingly painful and scary moment because she put super glue on her left eye sticking the eyelids together. Hundreds of scary thoughts ran through me and I must tell you, if something happened to her, I would never forgive myself. Having a child like her is in a way an exhilarating journey.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Back to Music and Love

As I am writing this post, I am listening to Dolly Parton’s song, ‘Coat of many colors’ (Lyrics at the end, so you know what I am talking about). And I must admit, though I’m not in the right place to cry, tears are streaming down my cheeks. First it is her voice. Second, it is her expression and looks that twitch your heart in the right place with what she is saying in her song. Third, it is the song itself – the lyrics. As I listen to this song, I am taken back to my childhood as well. And I believe that as she wrote this song, she surely did have very strong, vivid memories of how she grew up, just as my memories are running through my mind at this moment.


There is something really, really human about her. I know everyone is beautiful in her own ways. Each individual has a talent. But Dolly? When she sings, she takes you to a totally different place. I must tell you, I am back to music and love. As I listen to music like hers, love simmers through my heart and out – and I feel like I could love everyone just the same and not have even a tiny bit of jealousy. Yes, I am back to having this fluffy feeling of love running in my heart and I feel like I’ll be back to writing love stories.




Lyrics (source: http://www.azlyrics.com/):

Back through the years
I go wonderin' once again
Back to the seasons of my youth
I recall a box of rags that someone gave us
And how my momma put the rags to use
There were rags of many colors
Every piece was small
And I didn't have a coat
And it was way down in the fog
Momma sewed the rags together
Sewin' every piece with love
She made my coat of many colors
That I was so proud of
As she sewed, she told a story
From the bible, she had read
About a coat of many colors
Joseph wore and then she said
Perhaps this coat will bring you
Good luck and happiness
And I just couldn't wait to wear it
And momma blessed it with a kiss

My coat of many colors
That my momma made for me
Made only from rags
But I wore it so proudly
Although we had no money
I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me

So with patches on my britches
Holes in both my shoes
In my coat of many colors
I hurried off to school
Just to find the others laughing
And making fun of me
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me

And oh I couldn't understand it
For I felt I was rich
And I told them of the love
My momma sewed in every stitch
And I told 'em all the story
Momma told me while she sewed
And how my coat of many colors
Was worth more than all their clothes

But they didn't understand it
And I tried to make them see
That one is only poor
Only if they choose to be
Now I know we had no money
But I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me
Made just for me

When I was on the Verge of Quitting

I am writing this post one year and one month after my last post. I buried writing as a past hobby, or a habit. I buried my urge to write as...