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My tribute to Chacha

My uncle, Chacha, was a joyful soul with a gleaming face, short built, having a purposeful stride. He worked for the gas industry for over four decades, starting his professional journey at a young age that took him to different parts of the country, unmatched in our family till now. From the snippets that I remember, Amma would tell me how Chacha had moved out of Delhi without hesitation to explore a job opportunity in Baroda. Then on, he moved to wherever his career, his industry took him, to have new experiences and add value to himself and to the industry to which he remain committed till his very last.  He lived across cities including Hyderabad, Bangalore, Chennai, and Vishakhapatnam. No doubt his life experiences shaped his personality and made him into an individual who could communicate with all, young and old, with ease and inspire with his breadth of knowledge. His zeal for any new project at work and desire to share the same with the family was remarkable. I remember, as a
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The Homeland

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“Hello, India!” I yelled, and a thousand echoes bounced back, India - the land of my birth, called out with open arms, “I am here for you, Welcome back!” From London to Bangalore - it’s been a year, a seismic change that transpired from our desire to live ‘the big Indian dream’. Chase a dream and do it with determination, it will come true. Yes, a dream came true as I returned to India after 11 years with our British-born child, an ode to my childhood that brings a million memories back to life. The transition has been smooth, for not even a moment felt like I was out of place. The initial days of uneasy curiosity are long forgotten with mindful calmness having returned to life. Yes, we still have so much to see and explore of this mystical land, but there is no rush, rather an opportunity to savour as this time we are here for long.   Unlike in the UK, I have chosen to work part-time from home, giving myself the luxury of time to recharge and indulge in my 4-year old. We liv
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About jigsaws and tank engines...

Toys, toys everywhere... The amount of ‘stuff’ that we have come to accumulate since the birth of my son in only two and a half years is silly. In my home for example, aside from using up the dedicated storage space in my son's bedroom, we have a double-door cupboard allocated for toys as well as a (spare) bedroom with baby/toddler things housed in all corners. And with so many 'special' days marked on the annual calendars, we overcome our resistance all too often to indulge our son with one more present. As do the extended family and close friends who play their roles in his life to perfection. It won't be an exaggeration to say that our modern homes housing small nuclear families (like mine!) are swamped like warehouses with an endless sea of toys requiring just as much space as people. Could it be that we are simply turning to things to provide the same stimulation that a young child would have drawn from real people and children a few decades ago? Are we replac
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A sustainable fashion statement

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Photo by Annie Spratt (unsplash.com) I am no authority on fashion and even dislike the prospect of clothes shopping for myself and for indeed those around me, whether in-store or online. I am unable to see it as something fun to do and therefore find it incredibly tiresome. I would much rather be at home doing nothing. Even doing nothing is more fun for me! I shop when I must do, shopping doggedly with focus and buying what I need as quickly as I could. And despite this and for my middle-class bred disposition to use the life out of my existing wardrobe till garments turn into rags, I have come to accumulate a huge quantity and variety of clothes since my marriage. Probably a function of both my marital and 'NRI' (non resident Indian) statuses. My husband is Mr. Click-happy who shops online on a whim and ends up buying in bulk for me and our son. And my family back home doesn't miss an opportunity to shower me with presents every time we visit - after all a married
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Missed opportunities on a holiday in Greece

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We recently took a trip to Greece, as part of what has now become an annual tradition to spend about a week in an idyllic location with abundant sunshine, not too far from home. Aside from lavishly treating ourselves with much-needed sunshine and turquoise blue waters of the Aegean sea on the island of Mykonos, we also spent quality time exploring central Athens - the home of modern civilization. The holiday offered something for everyone - history, culture, adventure, and idleness. It was mostly perfect except for one thing, sustainability! And not because of anything else but for my own lack of planning and farsightedness in that context. Ofcourse I had planned, I planned as best as I could, running around striking things off my list that I was certain I was going to need. I packed sunscreen lotions, hats, picnic blankets, beach toys, a flask to carry boiled water for my toddler, and even breakfast for our no-frills red-eye flight. So, I really thought I was on top of my game
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(not so) Sustainable healing

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Having seen the recent finding of the overuse (or even abuse) of Calpol in the UK for treating young children, I too find myself guilty for having overindulged in it on occasions. And talking about illnesses, last year when my son started at nursery (and I joined back work) I was positive that it couldn’t get any worse. How naive of me! This year we have already played host to one infection too many and have had to deal with viral rashes, eye infections, sinusitis, Aussie flu, normal flu, high-fever, low-fever and so on. You get the idea! And looking after a poorly toddler stuck at home whilst being sick yourself for days and weeks together isn't fun, it is the definition of misery itself. I felt weak, frustrated, and even questioned our reasons for living so far away from family.  Growing up in Delhi, I had my fair share of sore throats, viral infections and allergic reactions caused by exhaust fumes and pollution. Amongst my cousins, I was teased for being the ‘delicate d
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What's your reason?

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Reading about a new initiative in the UK to install machines to promote bottle recycling in return for cash, had me thinking about the age-old practice of selling junk for cash in India.  In the era of fast fashion, prepacked convenience food, and bulk discounts we buy, switch and throw without discretion. As consumers we have benefitted from mass-scale commercialization, however, we now face a new problem of plenty. As a result, our generation uses a lot but values little. While our wardrobes are full of unworn clothes from boxing day sales and kitchen cupboards with half-eaten boxes of exotic snacks and teas, it is hard for us to truly appreciate value. No doubt then that for those of us who were born at the cusp of the last millennium, recycling for saving resources is not a natural instinct. In contrast, for Amma and Babaji everything was dear. We had designated space in our backyard where any empty plastic bottles, tin cans, metal scrap, or old newspapers were stored,
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