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 पदार्थ जर भावना असत्या तर शिरा म्हणजे नक्कीच माया! जिव्हाळया शिवाय शिरा होणे नाही. लेकराला मनापासून काही खाऊ घालेवेसे वाटले की कढईत तूप रवाच आलाच समजा. पोरा पासून गाडी सुरू होते पण रवा भाजता भाजता आई असाच आपला लाड करायची ते आठवते, किती वर्षे झाली आईच्या हातचा शिरा खाल्ला नाही म्हणून डोळ्यात टचकन पाणी येते. रवा खरपूस होऊ लागतो आणि भाऊ कसा लालसर पिवळसर शिराच खातो ते आठवतो. अरे , भाऊ तुला कधी खाऊच घातला नाही रे माझ्या हातचा शिरा…सगळी मनातली माया शिऱ्यात शिरत असते ह्या विचारत… रव्याचा सुवास सगळी कडे शिऱ्याची दवंडी फिरवतो..आणि इतक्यातच आपल्या मामीने सात समुद्र जपून आपल्या मुलांसाठी, नातवासाठी आणलेले लाडू आठवतात. मामा ची ‘अरे लाडू घ्या रे’ अशी हाक कशी ह्या आई ला लहान करून गेली ह्याचे अप्रूप वाटते. आपल्या परदेशी वाढणारा लेक आजी कडे हक्काने लाडू वसूल करतो हे पाहुन होणारा आनंद आठवतो..शिऱ्याची गाडी पहा कुठे गेली! म्ह्णूनच कदाचित रवा लालसर झाला की मंद आचेवर ठेवा म्हणत असतील. आठवणीना पण फुरसत हवी ना! पाणी का दूध ह्यावर जरा विचार होतो आणि माझ्या देवांना किती दिवस झाला नेवैद्य नाही म्हणून देवा बद्दलची माया पण असते ह्या शिऱ्यात !! मग येते साखरेची वेळ आणि बाबा कसे गुळाचे गोड जास्त आवडीने खातात ते आठवते. जेव्हा जमेल तेव्हा त्यांच्या साठी गुळाचा शिरा करेन नक्की ही खूणगाठ पक्की होते. साखर जरा मुद्दामहून जास्तीच पडते आणि आपले आजोबा कसे आवडीने अति गोड शिरा आणि लोणचे खायचे ते आठवते. ह्या आठवणींची सगळी माया शिऱ्यात उतरत असते. बदाम पेरले जातात आणि शेवटी नवऱ्याला आवडते म्हणून एक पिकलेले केळ पण. खरं सांगते, काळवंडलेलं केळ घरात आहे ह्याचा आनंद गृहिणी ला फक्त ह्या वेळेसच होतो! 

 असा हा शिरा शेवटी तयार होतो. घरातील अलौकिक घमघमाट काही औरच! जेवढा हा जिव्हाळा तेवढा चविष्ठ हा शिरा! म्हणूनच माझ्या राज्यात शिरा म्हणजे पिढ्यानपिढ्याची अगदी पोटातली माया!

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In my headphones

I’m probably the last person to discover this song but that does not lessen the haunting magic.

Hello, it’s me
I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet
To go over everything
They say that time’s supposed to heal ya
But I ain’t done much healing

Hello, can you hear me
I’m in California dreaming about who we used to be
When we were younger and free
I’ve forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet

There’s such a difference between us
And a million miles

Hello from the other side
I must have called a thousand times
To tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done
But when I call you never seem to be home

Hello from the outside
At least I can say that I’ve tried
To tell you I’m sorry for breaking your heart
But it don’t matter it clearly doesn’t tear you apart anymore

Hello, how are you?
It’s so typical of me to talk about myself I’m sorry
I hope that you’re well
Did you ever make it out of that town where nothing ever happened

It’s no secret that the both of us
Are running out of time

So hello from the other side
I must have called a thousand times
To tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done
But when I call you never seem to be home
Hello from the outside
At least I can say that I’ve tried
To tell you I’m sorry for breaking your heart
But it don’t matter it clearly doesn’t tear you apart anymore

Ooooohh, anymore
Ooooohh, anymore
Ooooohh, anymore
Anymore

Hello from the other side
I must have called a thousand times
To tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done
But when I call you never seem to be home
Hello from the outside
At least I can say that I’ve tried
To tell you I’m sorry for breaking your heart
But it don’t matter it clearly doesn’t tear you apart anymore

Written by Adele Adkins, Gregory Kurstin • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music

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5 years and beyond..

​My son turned 5 yesterday. I generally post something on every birthday to mark the occasion but yesterday was too emotional to even pen it down. 
Whenever I share his pictures, I never show the first on the left. I rarely see it myself. This is not a newborn picture but 9 days after his birth. Yes, he was a premature baby who had to be fed through a syringe coz he was too tiny to be able to suck. Everybody those who have kids especially Moms can realize the emotional turmoil those days would be, everytime I made that syringe, around 20 times a day…5 ml at a time, meticulously noting every drop of his nutrition. This picture gets me everytime and I remember those not so rosy postpartum days when I worried and worried and whether & when things would change for better. 
Fast forward 5 years ( which sometimes felt like slow motion) and he gobbles up a cake, actually 3 of them and then some pasta, icecream at his birthday dinner , chugging along his juice and this Mom has to eat a lot of pasta herself to push that lump threatening to be a sob.  🙂 Indian Moms measure their achievements around feeding kids anyways.

The day the infant picture was taken I knew this day would come but didn’t believe that it would come. As he crosses this milestone birthday, this before and after picture is to remind me that we have a new set of challenges, but we will overcome them and I can show off another picture like this in years to come.Again, I know the day will come but I have to hold on to the belief. 
I am proud of how far we have come and how far we will go together! I won’t lie , it’s exhausting and frustrating but so very the best thing I get to do in my life. It is my privilege . Always your Mom, Aadya!!

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Mixed seasons

It’s been the hottest day of summer here. And with an active young boy, weekend afternoons when you are forced to stay indoors they seem a bit more hotter and longer. It’s June and summer in June with school vacations is weird for this Indian, though this is my third summer here. Much like eating dinner for breakfast. My phone app forecasts rain for Pune today, however flimsy the promise may turn out, it makes me yearn for the overcast skies, the slight drizzle, the occasional downpour. I’m ready to fight the traffic snarls, the crazy potholes and all other inconveniences just for that smell of parched earth getting those first drops, fat drops to fall on my face as I look upwards to welcome the rain. I am OK with MSEB drama if an afternoon of no TV/ internet/ washing machine means I get to splash in the puddles with my son and float paper boats. It’s OK if the rains disrupt my office routine if I get to plan a weekend drive to Lonavala or Khadakwaasla with friends &family. As I freeze popsicles and cool pitchers of watermelon juice, secretly I want to enjoy adrak waali chai by the drizzle window listening to rimzhim gire savan or while goofing with friends at a tapri on a wet sidewalk. And as the monsoons catch on later, I want to see a visarjan  miravnuk in the downpour. We are all making the long weekend plans for next week but if you ask me, I just want to see the surf at Marine Drive or drive off to the glorious beauty of Sahaydris. I never was a very keen person about rains earlier, but it seems the cycle of weathers defines a lot more of us than we give credit of. June wherever I am, you are the month of monsoons, and the smell of fresh textbooks and new beginnings. However royal the spread may be, it’s still dinner at breakfast!

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All the best of wishes

I spend most of my time dwelling on what-ifs but rarely regret them.

But today….I’m sure this day is going to turn out OK, but a regret of not being where I should have been is added for ever.

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आजकाल रात्रीची जेवणे झाली की आम्ही TV समोर उबदार ब्लाँकेट अंथरतो आणि बाळ दिवसभरच्या धावपाळी नंतर त्याच्या आईच्या कुशीत विसवते. आई पण नेहमी हाताशी असणारा smartphone बाजूला ठेऊन त्याला राजकुमाराची गोष्टी सांगत थोपटट राहते.
गोष्ट त्याच्या नविन भारतीय-अमेरिका विश्वाच्या हिशोबात बसवता बसवता सवतःच्या बाळपणी हरवते. काही गोष्टी अगदी अश्याच.असाच दिवा मलावलेला हलका अंधार. असाच माय लेकरातील जिव्हाळा पण दिवसभरच्या श्रमाची पावती असणारी ती साधी साडी किंवा ताजा दोरिवरून काढून हौसेचा घेतलेला शुभ्र गाऊन नाही. आई विचार करते टीशर्ट सारखे सोयीचे दूसरे वस्त्र नाही पण पोराला एकदा पदर झाकून झोपवावेे का?  पण साड्या फक्त सणासुदीला असल्यामुळे तिच्याकडे साधी सूती साडीच नाही.आजी नाहीतर आईची एखादी आणुया..ती ठरवते. मग अजून काय बरे? आई आणि मी क्वचितच् दोघी.खोलीत अजुन कोणीतरी.आजी..काकू..मावशी..मामी..बहुतेकीच्या कुशीत तिचे लेकरू आणि त्यांच्या शिळओपयाच्या गप्पा. आमच्या भावंडांच्या कुजबुजित त्यांचे  जीवाभावाचे  ‘कॉउंसिलिंग’! कधी डोळा लागायचा कळायच नाही पण झोपताना असे कसे छान उबदार वाटायचे.
हे फिलिंग मात्र ती त्याच्या साठी आणू शकत नाही. इथ मशीन-कंट्रोल्ड ऊब आहे पण खोलीत आम्ही दोघेच आहोत. बाळ कधीच झोपलाय..तसे आम्ही एकटे नाही.. त्याच्या पलिकडे समोर इन्टरनेट राऊटर चे दिवे लुकलुकत आहेत. गैरसमज नको..ती ह्या मायाजलात मनापासून रमते..तरी खोली कधी मधे खुपच रिकामी वाटते.असो. बाजूला ठेवलेला फोन घेऊन ती Whatsapp वरच एक हाक देते..’आई कशी आहेस ग? ‘…

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One year later…

Its been an year.
A year of changes…adapting to some.. adapting to terms of the inability of adapting to others.
I lived a time and a phase which I never thought I could or would. Of course I could do it a lot better but I survived…some days barely so…
I know myself as a person lot better now. I know my limits and my strengths. I probably don’t like some things that I see..but I have the clarity now what makes me what I am.  And certain amount of acceptance.
I pray the wisdom follows soon.

The journey has been pretty zig-zag more so on the inside than on the outside. 

As I forsee a curtain raiser.. Its going to be another change  ( funny how going back to what you were seems like a change)… which was kinda pretty predictable… but just the timing of it all makes me believe that my guardian angel hasn’t abandoned me. 🙂

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