Letting Go and Growing Up

So much has changed now or maybe nothing has changed. At home with my parents this week and it feels like I am not just reconnecting with them but reconnecting with myself.

There is so much that I’ve been able to let go of. I guess when you leave home things happen. I do not feel attached to a lot of the stuff that I was extremely territorial about and gave them away to my sister today. I was cleaning my room out and my sister asked me, if this was me officially moving out?.

I guess yes and I guess not. I love my parents place and I want to leave some parts of me behind, interspersed with their life and creating what we call home. Mum and Dad are both doing well which makes me extremely happy and sister is taking care of these two baby hamsters that are the cutest things in the world.

Opened my parents fridge and it is spotless and clean as always. Compared it to C’s and my fridge (cause obviously!) and wondered why we aren’t able to maintain it. Perhaps it took my parents years too? or so I like to think because it makes me feel better. My mom is the glue to this family and my dad is the glitter. Blame the book that I am currently reading but I think it is really true.


Growing Up


I really do not know how my mum does it. My parents have been married for almost 29 years now and are able to maintain this extreme balance in their lives that I can only dream of. My dad always and I mean ALWAYS gets home around 6pm and hence my folks neither understand or approve of my work schedule.

As expected mother was against me getting anything from thrift/vintage stores, “Ab toh job hai, naya khareed lo. (now you have a job, buy new stuff)?” she asked and her expression whilst asking that question was priceless. I wonder what my mother liked when she was younger? Maybe I should ask her that.

The earliest memories I have of her revolve around her 80’s fluorescent hoop earrings, her freshly starched salwar kameez and her pencil heels. She always seemed ready to conquer the world, a lot like how I am now in my flats! ha!

I do not possess the grace of my mum but someday I hope to be like her and I hope I can be as amazing a mother as she is.


At the start, there was a conversation…

A conversation you now wish you could recall, but all you can recall, is his smile.

There was something about that smile that was unbearably attractive. He was not a handsome man by any standards, but it was that smile, you tell yourself.

‘What was it about him that was attractive?’, you often ask yourself, but seem to find no answer.

You think you are going insane. It makes no sense after all.

Your friends tell you, it’s not you, it’s him. But that’s what friends do, they say things to make you feel better. ‘No’, you tell yourself, it was definitely him.

You pen down yet another entry in your diary. Cross out his name a couple of times and tell yourself, ‘it will be ok.’

In the morning there will be assignments to hand in, work to take care of and friends to talk to. You will forget about it soon enough but not tonight.

Tonight, for one last time, you will allow yourself to think about him and tell yourself it’s ok.

It is not like you did not know that it will come to this. You did. Along the way there were many red flags but the sense of familiarity made them seem like just a bunch of colors.

Familiarity is a strange thing, is it not?