Petals!

Dear friends, this is my first post in the New Year. So, I want to begin by wishing you all a blessed start to a beautiful New Year! As a child, I used to stay awake with my parents to welcome the New Year with a spirit of cheer and joy. [READ: The Wisest Lesson I learned in 2018]                   [Image Source:  Malawi - Nyasaland historical moments  FB page ] The Internet has transformed how people like me (read: introverts) communicate. It brings us closer to the things that we miss the most.  For instance, there is a Facebook group page on Malawi, one of the African countries where I grew up. The participants are those who grew up in Malawi. They share old pictures of the town they grew up. Old family souvenirs find a special place in the group. While scrolling through the Nyasaland-Malawi Facebook page,  I found images of the famous Queen Elizabeth Central Hospital, Blantyre.  So, why ...

People say that it's much easier for a man to travel lightly than a woman. This reminds me of a good piece of advice from Susan Heller who said, "When preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money. Then take half the clothes and twice the money." But first, a trip down memory lane. Travel: From Iran to Africa at the age of Six Months  I've been traveling from the time I was just six months old. Obviously, I don't remember packing then but my mother does with vivid details. She says we were whisked off to Teheran when i was barely 6 months old and that she found it heartbreaking to be so far away from her mother and her family because those were the days you couldn't make phone calls so easily from continents away to mother or brothers. So there,  my mom was stranded with tiny me for company in a sweet little cottage near the Caspian sea in Iran .   If you google "caspian sea," you will get tons of interesting i...

As I spend more and more time with Adi, analyzing and attempting to understand his emotions, growth and journey as a child, I also end up revisiting my childhood memories. One striking factor that stands out is that as a child, I was never really a child. I know this sounds silly or maybe difficult to believe but it is how I see myself when I look back. In my childhood, I grew up in Africa where most of the time you are in a social environment over which you have so little control. When with peers, I was always different and therefore ended up as a sore thumb that sticks out jarringly. I used to read all the time and rarely play. I never liked playing, it was as though the world of stories alone enchanted me. So I'd be the usual object of ridicule on account of many factors but most importantly because of my nationality - being Indian. The funny part was that I was mostly ridiculed by Indians themselves because most of them had opted for a different nationality by then. But as a...

I realize that most of what I convey to my three year old son, Adi is borrowed from my own childhood. As I grow older, I feel closer to those memories. By sharing those experiences with Adi, I feel that he will understand who I am and why I believe in certain things that root me to my identity and view of life. Growing up in Africa was like being alienated from my motherland in every way. Initially, it was tough to survive in school because of obvious differences. Some girls would pull my hair and ask, "Why do you have such hair?" or "Why is your skin color different from ours?" or "Why do you worship weird looking gods and not Jesus?" It wasnt just non-Indians who had questions to ask. If I spoke with African friends, I had Indian friends who told me, "Listen, they are blacks so dont mingle too much. Their culture is different." No offence meant, but I've lived all my growing years with African people and I believe they are really warm, cari...