Tag: family

That Day

He woke to a lone house

And walked in solo a path

Lived only by himself

And cooked just for one

With the radio for company

On days dark and gloomy

Each day was the same

Going on with no name

Except one day every year

Calls someone so dear

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad.”

One Stormy Day

All was well, until one fateful day. My life was perfect until she came along with her bright light and thundering calls. And she brought along with her, a storm that ruined my life forever.

We didn’t have much, my sister Leela and I. We lived alone in a hut we called our own. We would wake up every morning to the spray of the sea and the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks.

We had a small stall on the beach where business was good enough for both of us. We sold fried onions and peppers to beachgoers who loved to sink their teeth into something hot and oily after a dip in the sea. We had no worries, no one to look after. It was just us and our expenses. And sometimes, when we felt adventurous, we plucked coconuts from our backyard and sold them for some extra money.

Our life was perfect. We’d go to the bazaar on Sundays, buy some flowers, sometimes a sari — we’d share what we own — and walk home nibbling popcorn. We’d then spend the rest of the afternoon stringing the flowers, and wearing them in our hair.

Our life was perfect. Until she came along. Out of nowhere, one Sunday, lightening lashed at the rocks. And thunder followed. We had planned to go to the bazaar that day. We had thought of getting a cake to celebrate Leela’s birthday the following day. But the rain dampened our plans. We had to run about our home putting vessels under holes that let the rain in. We sat on our doorstep looking on at the sky. The storm had come from nowhere. No one in the village had said anything about it. Mrs. Loudmouth next door — she had a radio — would have told us if the weatherman had predicted anything ominous. But nothing, the rain stormed on us all day.

All of a sudden, we saw a puppy running toward the water. Leela saw it first. She called after the animal, but we couldn’t even hear ourselves over the storm. Without thinking, Leela left my side and ran after the dog. I called out to her to stop, and pulled at her skirt, but she slipped away from my fingers.

That was the last I saw of her. The storm was too fierce for me to follow. My life was perfect until that moment. And from nowhere, the storm ravaged our home, took my life away, and left me weeping on the floor.

Child’s Perspective

child's perspective

She bruised herself at soccer,

her play doh castle crumbled,

she finished last in the game,

and always dropped the ball,

she missed homerun by a mile,

and was late for the park swing,

Her parents thought it embarrassing.

The four year old thought it fun.

The Great Adventure

It’s June now, but I’d still like to think March was recent. Having said that, I’d give anything to revisit my recent visit to the western borders of India. I’ve written quite a lot of my travels, and spoken about it even more. To be honest, I brought back over a thousand photos, and I needed a way to flaunt them.

adventure

But it wasn’t just about the charming sights and endless stream of photos. There were so many new things I had to get used to, and I did. It wasn’t easy being thrown into a vehicle with five others and travelling uphill with my head swirling. But I got used to it. I had no choice, but I enjoyed it too.

And we travelled with kids. Small kids, infants, even. That was my tipping point. I wasn’t keen on having kids on the trip, because they have a tendency to ruin it for the rest of us. And sure enough, there were a few tears, a few tantrums, and plenty of throwing up incidents I’d rather erase from my memory. It’s not something I liked or would recommend, but I got used to it. I just had to accept the fact that we were a party of twenty four, including three senior citizens and five kids, braving a temperature as low as -6˚C.

I hated having to give up the window seats and making small conversation every time we stopped for tea. But when I look back at the whole trip, I have nothing but memories I cherish. I enjoyed every bit of it. It was hard at first, and I had my own inertia to overcome, but once I did, I saw how beautiful even mundane things like a steep U bend became. It brought me closer to the people I travelled with. I hadn’t expected to meet a sixty-five year old eager to jump into a freezing lake. It showed me a different side of the people I thought I knew. I hadn’t liked the idea of travelling with my colleagues’ parents, but I had judged too soon. Because by the time we returned, they had became as close to me as my own parents.

It was an adventure of a lifetime.