And its your birthday again...

And it’s your birthday again today. You would have been 62 today.

And the festivals have just passed again this year without you. It’s been 6 years but since you are gone, but your absence is starker now.

And then suddenly, your memories keep bouncing back each day – when mom makes “kalhaare aalu”( potato with tomatoes) as you liked it, or when the mango season arrives, or whenever I see Ahaan relishing non veg food, or when I look at your grandsons playing with each other. Because you would have loved this. But you are not here. And only we – who are left behind - feel that loss. The desolation of experiences without the pleasure of your reaction to them.

And its stands true that when time passes, our memories congeal less into what they truly were, and more into how we wish to recollect them. It is not the dwindling of memory like an old photograph that gets pale with edges curled and tatty but rather, the spurt of a photographic flash, dazzling and brilliant with a flash, the colors too brassy.

The memories offend the heart and the mind because they are just too much to take in and instead of the anguish settling low, it froths up anew at the strangest of times.

And for me, this year is the toughest.

For this is the longest I have stayed with maa after my marriage. And everything in this house reminds me of you – as if you are here. Because had you been here, Ahaan would have dotted on you. Because we would’ve had a family dinner tonight at your favorite restaurant.

Because, coming back home would have relieved my stress completely . You would’ve been both compassionate and impartial. You would’ve had insight and reassurance, for those were two of your greatest gifts. Because you would’ve been proud of me, of my work, of my dreams, of whatever shabby but a good mom that I have grown to be. You would’ve boasted and written down my blog address for everyone who would stand still long enough and doled out my business card to everyone - leaving me mortified.

Because your grandsons would’ve made you cards and drawn you pictures and you would’ve reached for your spectacles, while they climbed on your lap, and you would have loved every moment you looked at all three of them.

Because maa has been very strong and brave -  like she has been her entire life -  but sometimes it is all too much and she seems lost without you. Because no one can fill the void you have left.

Because ultimately you would exasperate us all and we would sigh in frustration and never know how much we would miss your annoying habits when you were gone.

Because like every year – I miss you a lot Papa.

Because I love you – like I always did.

And it’s your birthday again today.

Happy Birthday, Papa

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Auteur

Lead us to Light - Happy Diwali!

Any protracted journey, through capricious paths will have dim tunnels. But every tunnel will end (has to end), and at its end it will lead us to the light, signifying what our life is meant to be. We’ll fall, slip, and rise up again. We have to make a choice – to mark our lives with the falls and slips or the number of times we had the courage to stand up, dust off the muck and forge ahead. We’ll participate in the sacraments that someone, a long time ago demarcated for us, or we can have our own connotation and make our own definitions about what this day means to us. Hold hands, and walk together; maybe that’s all we need.

This is a time to create your own implication of what light means to you -For this is a festival of lights; while traditions may ask of you to revivify your environment; take time and benefit of the day off (if you have it) to derive sense from meaning of light.

Other than what it perceptibly shows you, try and see what it wants you to see in its Illumination and Grandeur.

This is not the time to lodge in the past. Soon, the calendar will change and we can let ourselves hope for better things. Most importantly, we can pursue something better.

Wishing you very Happy Diwali.

Thank you for walking with me, and enjoying the light together.

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Auteur

A Letter to the Father of my Son

Happy Father's Day

Dear Anshul ~

Life is often demarcated as the existence of vitality in its many complex and radiantly intricate forms. We are only voyagers and bystanders here, carving out and discovering the varied gorgeous ways in which to live our lives to the fullest.

Almost 3 years back, in February I told you that I was expecting. What a day that was!  I still can’t forget your bedazzled and surprised to the hilt expressions. Fast forward 3 years now, and I am astounded at how perfect the love of my life is at being a "Dad".  Many men are fathers.  Some are great at it, others nose-dive completely.  It takes a special something to be a "Dad".  You dove into the parenting furrows with me instantly.  You changed blowout diapers, tried to take vomit in your hands, rocked our son to sleep (even if it was with a non-melodious lullaby you sang!), solaced him when he cried.

I've had the pleasure to watch you evolve as a father and witness your natural capacity to flourish and clasp the “actual things that matter”; sentient time offered to our son, regardless of what kind of day you've had at work and the never-ending to-do items which fall on the sticker every weekend.

You invite our son into your life.  He’s seen you cry.  You've rocked him when he’s cried.  There’s been laughter…immense laughter and glee.  And there’s been the business of smoothly helping him as he’s beginning to steer his own path in life.  The love I see him reciprocate to you is beyond measure.

So, dear husband of mine – I know I don’t say it often, but would like to say it today - “Thank you”.  Thank you for being the Dad you are supposed to be, when several others do not come up to scratch.  I thank you for meeting me midway on life’s greatest escapade and I thank you for being every bit of the dad for our son that my dad has been for me.  Thank you for holding our son when he cries. Thank you for reading him stories with immense fortitude and fervor .Thank you for unwearyingly singing his favorite rhymes over and over and over again.  Thank you for teaching our son how to value the good in life and how to take the bad, with endurance and a hope for a better tomorrow.  For all this, and many many more things- including my own dad (I’m still your little girl who loves to hold your hand, Papa), I am thankful.

Anshul, your cape is not always visible.  You go unappreciated a lot of times.  But as Super dads and Superheros go, you are the best. Happy Father’s Day to the Best Dad my son could ever have.

Now, there's a wriggly spider on the wall, can you take care of that please?

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Auteur

And He Turns 2!

To My Dearest Son - Ahaan,

You are my rockstar and you turn two today! Your daddy and I can barely believe it. Your 2^nd year has been full of outstanding transformations for you, as this denotes the year that you grew up from a "baby" to a "child." As you arrive at the end of your 2^nd year on this earth, it is astounding to see how you have grown to be "you."

You have reached the stage in your life where I can no more confine you to overviews like "joyful," "shy or "peaceful" for the reason that you are a full and round boy. You are bursting of contradictions and distinctions. You are concurrently keen to gratify and extremely obstinate (just like your mom). You love helping your mom in the middle of her busy days, and have also comprehended the power of your favorite word - “no" and being adamant. You are both tranquil, observant, carefully watch what goes on around you, and untamed, opting to unleash and free at the drop of a hat. You are courageous, but still preserve that swift requirement for consolation and comforting words at even the slightest of wounds – “Mamma, Aaana hurrrt”. ‘Aaana’ is what you call yourself.

Here are some of your personality traits which I love about you -

Bright: I am astonished at how much you are familiar with at your age. You can count to 20 and till 10 (in Hindi). You also know ABCD very well. You pick up everything we say and repeat them with amusement and dexterity. You already know letters and their connected sounds (thanks to all those Phonics videos!). As and when you are lucky to find a pen or a pencil, you sketch abstract scrawls – even on Walls- and then spurt off lists of what those scribbles are--all of which really look like your fine art.  You also know most of the rhymes and ‘Johnny Johnny yes papa’ seems to be your favorite of the lot. You have started attending various Toddler classes like Tiny Tots and First Time Friends and enjoy most of them, discovering a new thing to learn each time.

Affectionate: The delight I feel when I hear you yell out for me, or your daddy, is inexpressible – “Mamma, I waaant dis” or “Daddy, come soon”. It’s all so magical as we never get tired to hear you say that. There is a glow in you and it nurtures when you share it with everyone who comes within your aura of love and warmth. You liberally give love, which is only just beginning to convert from open-mouthed greeting of kisses to crumpled up smacks. You incessantly pass on your “Hii Aaan-tee” and “Hi Un-kal “ ( uncle) to passing by people. They have no option but to respond back to you with love. You generously pass on your hugs to everyone and did I tell you how that makes it better for all of us?

Amusing: You have already started making your own funny stories, playing pranks on mamma all day long, and communicating your understanding of your humor. You have totally picked on your Daddy’s gene pool in this regard, as most of your humor revolves around catching mamma off guard, breaking down things, hopping, leaping, and jumping from things. Infact I am amazed at how you treat mamma’s tummy as a trampoline?!

Beautiful: This splendor and beauty is beyond just exterior beauty, although you have always had the capacity to attract people of all genders and age on their ways just by looking at them with a smile that steals their hearts. You own a smile that is nothing short of astonishing--it is the same smile I knew and noticed when I first saw you look at me: natural, pure, candid, and full of that metaphorical beam which words fail to explain. When you smile your bursting OF glee and purest smile, it is almost like a glance of a little heaven for us – your mommy and daddy. We pray that the world is kind to you, and you forever have that gift to unwrap a glimpse of heaven to those who see that beaming smile. That smile has almost saved me from so many of my life’s setbacks – more than you’d ever know.

In your 2^nd year, you have learned to run around, to chatter, to have fun, to abide by, to oppose, to count up, to scribble, to skip, to dress up ( yes, you already have color preferences and you never step out o your room without a smile and neat clothes!) , to request, to be grateful, to smack, to say sorry, to forgive and forget, and to pray ( I love the way you bow your head in the little Pooja corner of our house , just after your bath – pretending to recite mantras fro your Elmo book!) .

Although, mamma never says it often and infact frequently cribs about how you are a handful for her and also how you drive her nuts all day long. But, what mamma feels for you is pure and deep within her heart – for you are a part of her heartbeat and she loves you more than she has ever loved anyone/anything in this world. You also know, that the number of times Mamma yells at you through the day can never surpass the number of kisses she gives you while you are asleep.

Every day you discover more, and every day I am so thankful for the incredible gift I have been bestowed with, to see that development, growth and your upward learning graph, albeit it flies by all too rapidly. Every day you explore and learn, and every day we learn from you. For we grow, when we raise you.

Thank you, dear son. Daddy’s ‘Kucchu’ (as he lovingly calls you) and Mamma’s rock star. You add the ‘extra’ to our ordinary lives. Thank you for being – you.

Wishing you a very Happy Birthday, Son.

Love, Always and Forever

Mommy and Daddy.

Mom -to-Mom

I recall:

Looking forward to be home from school.

Placidness.

That feeling of comfort in your arms.

Sleeping with you and holding your tummy.

Trying your cosmetics.

Letting me know that you were proud of me.

Your warm hug around me when I sobbed.

You lending an ear.

You telling me that Maths is afterall easy to deal with and I could do it.

Magical hugs when I was ill.

The significance of homework.

You staying up all night when I had an exam

The significance of telling the truth.

Your belief in me.

Letting me snooze with my head in your lap during long bus journeys .

Oiling and plaiting my hair.

Your acceptance when you felt you were incorrect.

Letting me see when I was off beam.

Being truthful with me.

Making me believe I could be whatever I wished to be.

Sharing  your stories and listening to mine.

Loving me in a manner I never questioned.

Always telling me that you are proud of me and will always be.

Well, today let me tell you

Maa, I’m proud of you.

You did a great job.

From one mother to another,

Thank you.

I’m striving to be a good one…

because you were  one too.

****

Happy Mother’s Day.

PS- I intended posting this on Mother’s Day 13^th May 2012.However, I couldn’t. Nonetheless, what I feel for my mother, is heartfelt on each day. 

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Auteur

Where are those Days?

Wondering...

Where are those days
when we could
put an upturned
container on our heads
and act as if to
we were a fireman
or a dreamer
or robot?

Where are those days
when we could
giggle absurdly
and roll on the ground
accredited to a
fart or burp
or other bodily sounds which seemed so funny.

Where are those days
when droplets
enthralled us and
the famous “Chanda mama” excited us
no end; when a
fountain was all
we required to
make our world complete.

Where are those days
when everything was
new-fangled and held a hope
when we didn’t know
what tomorrow will bring
but we knew it
would be as happy
as today?

Where are those days
when we candidly
hugged
and kissed
those who made us
feel loved and unique.

Where are those days when
the loss of a favorite pencil
was life’s leading catastrophe
of our lives
and the acquirement
of a new one
our biggest victory.

Where are those days when
we could chuckle
and weep wantonly
when we could
love with
paramount fervor
when we could
pick ourselves up
dust ourselves off
and continue
with the same
zeal.

Where are those days when
we didn’t know
the significance
of intolerance
goal
aspiration
principle
remorse
hate
sorrow
envy
or adversity?

Where are those days
when our life
was uncomplicated
our requirements fundamental
our wishes
confined to a chocolate
and one more ride
on a giant wheel.

Where are those days
when we were
actually, really, truly
contented.
When we lived
the meaning of
contentment
and didn’t just
read superficial quotes about them
on internet, to post them on Facebook.

PS – This post is a consequence of a nostalgic frame of mind, while going through some of my random lines that I wrote in a diary – The days, when we actually knew how to write with a pen.

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Imperfect Love

I often wonder and realize that I am encircled by couples that are happily married, neck down deep in love. Syrupy sweet quotes are shared, inclusive with yearning glimpses and an affectionate brush of the other’s hand. They tender a non-thrashing pillar of support for each other’s endeavors. They share bizarre Facebook status updates about being “blessed” by the “greatest hubby/wifey in the world” etc. ( Oh Btw, I simply abhor that term ‘Hubby’- makes me feel repulsive)

Well, thankfully, my ‘husband’ and I are not that duo.

I have been married for 4 years and have known my husband as my childhood friend since longer than that I have known him since a long time now and now after heading rapidly towards old age, gray hairs, joint pains et al, I can pompously say that I do look forward to growing old with him now.

I’m going to be honest here. We are growing old. We argue. We criticize. We bicker. We just know which keys to twist and twist the hell out of them at times. We are basically an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond couple – Debra and Ray - devoid of the laughing track in the backdrop

It’s not alluring. It’s not ideal. It’s not perfect and infact it may not even be normal, but it’s - us. At times, I doubt, have I really settled in life? Am I just contented? Should I wish more?

And guess what - sometimes, I do seek more. Much more.

It’s human to pursue rosy dreams of perfect contentment. I would have loved moonlit walks on a beach, hand in hand, being pampered with roses everyday and told how beautiful I was and put on a podium each day. But that’s not my truth. One naughty 14 month old toddler son, several wakeful nights to tot up, piles of clothes to be folded, loads of toys to be kept back in the toybox several times a day, meals to be cooked, fed and cleaned thereafter, carpet to be cleaned, spill overs to be taken care of. Infact I also secretly wish that they come up with a vacuum cleaner I can ride on?! This is my reality.

Just when I feel I’ve reached the end of my patience and can’t bear it anymore, I’m hit with the luster of a brand new day, the smell of my morning tea, my son’s brightly lit smile first thing in the morning, or the way my husband plays soothing devotional songs first thing in the morning, the smell of incense stick - and I’m back in it again- rehabilitated- for the next few hours, at least.

Perfect contentment? Perhaps not.

He’s seen me at my ugliest best – He has seen my stretch marks shape and grow. I’ve witnessed his hairline slither and still seeing them turn gray. Our romantic getaways to a nearby coffee shop have been replaced by a smoothie and fries at Mc Donalds and regular grocery/diaper shoppings. I’ve mocked at his funny actions and candid pics (revealing them often on Facebook) and he’s laughed at me with my green monster looking facepack on and clicked my pics while I have been sleeping with my mouth wide open. It may not always be beautiful but we have a story, history, reminiscences, and an imperfect but wonderful life that we built- together.

He may not be my Prince Charming and I’m most likely not his Princess, but this man, he’s a wonderful husband and a great father. We both have abnormal sense of humor and love to laugh at our friends and everyone in general and also embarrass our son sometimes. On Fridays, devoid of friends and parties, we both relish enjoying a drink together alongwith some grilled sandwiches and a serial on the TV ( Yes, he loves watching them all) – We may not be perfect, but we remain convinced that we are perfect for each other and most of the times, that’s good enough.

Here is what my acumen says.

Life doesn’t always churn out the way you expect it to be. And that’s not essentially a bad thing at all.

Anshul, I may not be perfect and you may not be perfect - and that's perfectly fine. I love our imperfections as much as I love you.

Happy 4th Marriage Anniversary.

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Auteur

The Whispers of Childhood Footsteps

When I was a child

I did not have games replicating the outdoors and indoors.

When I was a child I did not have Dora and Barney to amuse me

So I would eat my food devoid of amusement.

When I was a child I did not have each component of my life visually categorized.

When I was a child I did not adorn knee armaments and helmets while riding my cycle

And I enjoyed falling and hurting myself.

When I was a child I did not eat chips with tomato sauce and cold drink and almost never needed

Pasta, burgers and pizzas as incentives to eat.

When I was a child I did not have a timetable for eating, dancing, playing, and singing.

And everything that was in between.

When I was a child I did not doubt my parents’ decrees and decisions.

When I was a child I did not have a fancy mobile phone to always fidget with while dining with family.

When I was a child I did not require Archie-formed days in order to be grateful for those whom I valued

In My life.

When I was a child I did not ruin my eyes, while continuously looking at screens – of computer, TV,

Or the phone or a gaming console.

When I was a child I did not lock the world out with headphones connected to ingenious iPods.

When I was a child I found friends in the neighborhood, not on Facebook and Twitter

When I was a child my life was uncomplicated: the kinds with slight anxiety and even slighter peripheral stimulus.

When I was a child, Disney World’s rides didn’t excite me as much as a ride with my dad on his scooter.

When I was a child I was contented with just a single television channel and a shared home-prepared

Meal and didn’t feel the need for WII or the Xbox.

When I was a child I found gratification in small things like making doll houses or playing with clay.

When I was a child I lived like most children do – Unrestrained, carefree and naive.

When I was a child I was just that –

A child

Not a little grown-up.

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Auteur

Happy Birthday, Auteur! You’re 3 Years Old!

It’s been 3 years today since I pounded those important first words on this blog:
“First Post”

Yep, 3 years ago today I took a deep stride into these mystifying waters, completely unaware to what I was getting into. I still fell rather oblivious but am overwhelmed and astounded at just how much this little virtual space has developed. At the outset, this blog was a method to get my mind off random ramblings in my life and also to have a creative channel to append some splendor to my life when it felt deficient of just that. It has transformed into so much more now. How can I show gratitude to all of you for making this far more fun than I could have imagine, is what I wonder at the moment.

Anyway, yet again, thank you to all my blog readers for stopping over, remarking, encouraging, appreciating and coming back! I perhaps would have given up this a long time ago but am having too much fun to quit! Here's to one more year of sharing my thoughts and life with all of you and contemplating where this blog will take me further.

Here’s to an added ten years, an additional half a million words, and much more learning of life as it is.

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Auteur

Come Grow Old with Me – the Best is yet to Be!

Today as Anshul and I celebrate the two blessed and blissful years of – Love, companionship, joys, sorrows and loads of brawls, I have a lot to reflect back on in these two years. When I got engaged to Anshul, people often told me – enjoy this phase – It’s your honeymoon phase. A year later I realized that honeymoon phase takes a backseat while the, married life commences. Pulling through the initial few years of marriage may take more hard work and effort than a duo anticipates. I have learnt a lot in these two years of marriage. Some of my observations are as follows.

First thing that I have learnt is that there’s something that all us wedded people can do better for each other and that is - being a rock for your partner. At times, life gets in the path of marriage and love but it’s significant to bear in mind that we require to be there for our partner, at all times, come what may. And on the reverse, we have to let our partners be there for us. None of us are an island; None of can do it on our own. Everybody needs somebody. At the nucleus of the subject is the most minimally compound emotional – love. Devoid of love, nothing in a marriage works. Feasible? Maybe. Victorious? Never.

Ever seen the film Shrek? Recall the song that plays when Princess Fiona is just going to marry that little guy? It’s Hallelujah sung by Rufus Wainwright .There’s a verse in that song that I feel each married person should keep in his/her heart. It - “Love is not a victory march”
When you love somebody, you walk the path as one. It’s about receiving joy from making that same someone contented. It’s knowing they are as contented for your achievements as they are for their own. It’s about requesting for assistance without embarrassment. Love isn’t a trial of wills – it’s about faith. Faith that your partner will always have lend you his/her back….faith that they will let you distinguish when you’re erroneous and knowing how to tell you without devastating your courage. It’s knowing when to go forward and when to let go. Love’s like a ballet where you both guide and still manage to look elegant.

So my verdict on What is marriage after 2 years of blessed matrimony? Well, for me It’s hammering nails, washing bathrooms and vacuuming carpets. It’s saving a buck by shopping at sales . . . It’s harmonizing checkbooks and paying off bills… it’s wiping the windows and mopping the spills. It’s washing clothes together and matching up our socks.... Its two hectic timetables but one happy life shared by a loving husband and wife.

Marriage is not about the commencement; marriage is about the progression and yet being able to love through all the peaks and valleys.

Wishing you a very Happy Marriage Anniversary. May we learn much more!

I love you Anshul.

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Auteur

One More Star Up In The Sky

It all begins with the recalling a day.

And I sit down to inscribe, tranquilly on the exterior, but emotionally and saddened on the interior, in the anticipation of not forgetting an iota, not skipping any moment of detail or disclosure that came with this unbelievably heartbreaking and deplorable day – 17th of November 2008.

It’s been a year since you’re gone but it just feels like yesterday, when I called to talk to you only to find out that you were no more.
Tonight, when I look up at the stars, I do not consider them as stars. I look at them as porch lights, welcoming you safely in your dwelling .I have this sense that there's one extra star up in the sky tonight. And although it's at a far-flung distance, its brilliance and affection still reach us here to make the nighttime a little less shadowy, a little less gloomy.

Thinking of you with Love and Fond Memories, Papa.

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Auteur

Down the Memory Lane on Children's Day

When life’s mundane chaos drives me crazy, I turn to Kushagra (my nephew). He smiles. He waits while his gaze invites me in a whole new universe. It is an open enticement. He smiles yet again. The qualms begin to squander. Here’s to days when….

• Race implied disagreeing about who ran the quickest.
• Monetary matters were dealt by whoever was the financier in Monopoly.
• It wasn't peculiar to have more than one best friend. (I had 4 – Anju, My sis, my mom and God!)
• Being aged denoted anyone more than the age of 20.
• You could find out if somebody loved you enough by plucking flower petals.
• Decisions were taken by singing out aloud or mind thinking - “teeny-meeny-miney-mo."
• It was magical when dad’s pockets would pop out candies.
• No one was more beautiful than Mommy. (For me, still no one is!)
• Injuries and bruises were kissed by mommy or daddy and made fine.
• It was a huge deal to at last be big and tall enough to ride the "only for big people" rides at the children’s park.
• Wholehearted lifetime promises and commitments were completed with cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die.
• Sunday mornings invariably meant taking a bath and watching Ramayana or Mahabharata.
• One “katti” would lead to minutes of hostility between friends while one “mucchi” would mean friendship for a lifetime.
• Whirling around, getting woozy and falling down would lead to irrepressible giggles.
• Water balloons were the eventual weapon.
• Consuming medicines meant orange-savored chewable calcium tablets.
• A lie didn't add up if our fingers were crossed.
• Cakes, pastries, chocolates and ice creams were thought to be a fundamental food group.

This one's dedicated to all my lil angels - Pogu, Eva, Ira, Akshaya, Siyo, Aditi, Gauri, Navya,Pranav,Aditya, Ajinkya, Manya and all the lovely adorable kids in this world. Happy Children’s Day to all. Let’s always keep the child within us alive.

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Auteur

Light a lamp, dismiss the gloom

As the countdown to Diwali began, my social networking accounts beamed up like a miraculous city, which had been turned on by an invisible hand. My apartment building lit up luminously with neon lights and various beautifully done rangolis and of oil-lit earthen lamps enclosed patios and ramparts, staircase and yards of apartments.

This was the first time however, when my heart refused to welcome Diwali – A festival I have always keenly looked forward to for this year Diwali bought many memories. The most memorable memoirs of Diwali I have are the ones spent during my early days. That’s when my father got everything that could be called new – clothes, Laxmi Ganesh idols, mitahis, crackers et al. That was then. This year, however when I lived through the dawn of Diwali , I couldn’t avoid but recall persistently the dialogue I had with my father on the eve of Diwali few years back. While conversing about the various Indian festivals and their probable genesis, he also shared his views about the Diwali. He said, "Like a tiny lamp that brightens its tiny environs, a strip of tiny lamps brightens larger environs. Likewise an individual can brighten his environs; while an organized act - allegory to several lamps organized in rows - can brighten up the cosmos."

Last year’s Diwali was special for me – as it was my first after marriage and also because it was the first time that my father sent me mitahis. Given that I had never been away from my house before that on any of my Diwalis. My father sent me Diwali mithais and card with a pack of floating candles to light up my house, from across the seven seas. It was the first time ever. He also sent me a note which read “Hope this finds you both in pink of health. Sorry Manasi, couldn’t send you the guavas (he knows my love for UP ke amrood ) along due to packing problems. Anyways, next time. Happy Diwali. Enjoy it. Tons of Love – Papa”.

It’s been a year since he left us and it’s been hard for us (my mother, sister and me especially) as it all happened a few days after Diwali. All this while, I kept wondering what that implied. But now I feel it means something…. In its symbolism, Diwali advocates people to conquer their fears and personality imperfections that keep us from gratifying our actual potential. So to say, it enlightens us to chase off the shadows that clouds all of our spirits. So as my mom, sister and I recall all the Diwalis in the past and the ones ahead of us, and we endeavor to be what my father worked his whole life to offer us the prospect to be: sturdy women with vivid futures. The fact is that life has to move on and although now and then it can be insufferably agonizing and a sluggish progression, yet we must not give up hope and embrace joys where we get them. I have often heard the cliché about time being the biggest healer and I truly expect it to be true.

Happy Diwali to you Papa, still waiting for the sweets this year!

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