Tag Archives: Ma

Happy Birthday to my Purpose …

Mothers are amazing, aren’t they? Unsolvable phenomenon’s if you ask me. How else could anyone possibly ever explain the unconditional love, the unrelenting support, the fierce need to protect no matter how old you get, the doe eyed adoration for you even when you couldn’t conceivably (or inconceivably) get any more irritating or incessantly demanding or annoying or downright rude.

It’s my mama’s birthday today and like all kids on this planet, I have the best-est mum anywhere in the solar system, earth bound or intergalactic. I have witnessed my mother seriously working her skin off trying to be the best role model out there and man did she deliver.

In India we have a saying – that God gifts every child with a Mother because he couldn’t be there for each one of us physically so he gave us someone in his image and my Mum is definitely my Higher Power. I don’t think there is anyone else on this universe (parallel ones included) I frustrate more (and I know it when I’m shamelessly doing it), torment more, stress more and generally poke and prod more than my mama … and what did she do to deserve it? Well give birth to me of course, she should have known better 😀

Seriously though, what did she get for it? Not much I guess, but I do know that my very definition of everything and anything good and solid in this lifetime begins with just a whiff, a tinkling on the edges of my cranium, a gentle nudge deep within the etched compositions of my soul of my mother. The values of right over wrong, my moral compass, my undying belief that in the end – good will prevail over evil, that working hard DOES get you to the finish line no matter how impossible and stupidly childish the notion seems at the moment and most imperatively, that little voice that plays in my heart surging its way to my head that uncompromisingly reminds me that everything is going to be okay is all my mama.

The obstinate power I find hidden deep within myself when I ceaselessly tell myself every morning that “I am invincible and that my dreams are going to be reality” is courtesy my mum.

My very definition of love is my mum. Mothers are truly the greatest gifts any one of us are ever going to receive. All the money, fame, designer clothes, falsified compliments this world will give you on your travels, everything you may think is good but is just another façade for what is the cruel, mocking way of society will never compare to the gift so many of us choose not to see even though it’s right in front of our eyes, what we often take for granted – our mothers.

Who else would still claim your atrocious kindergarten overused art piece of your hands dripping in red and blue paint is a masterpiece even when you’re old enough to know better? Most importantly, who else could tell you that and still make you believe it was true – that you are the brightest, most intelligent, most perfect, most wonderful living thing out there?

Who else can still make you feel warm and fuzzy after all these years, like you’re the safest with a simple brushing of your cheek with her finger or a warm caress that speaks so much louder than the words “I love you”? No one, that’s who.

2013-01-05-039To my mama – Have the best birthday ever and even though I don’t think I say this enough, I love you more than existence itself, because well, you are my reason, my purpose, my life, my soul. I love you so much more than all the beautiful words in the world I could ever create or muster up to string along together so instead, all I say is that I only wish to be a glimmer of your image in an effort to be some sort of poor tribute to everything you are!

xoxo Chotu & Motu xoxo

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Why I Love October …

1. We’re finally into double digits, which makes me feel like I’ve achieved something, namely close to another year with my brain intact (okay fine, most of it anyway).

2. It’s smack bang in the middle of Spring where everything is starting to awake, ready to p-a-r-t-y!!!

3. This year, it’s when all the celebrations happen for Indians – Navratri, Karwa Chauth, the Festival of Lights (Diwali) and who doesn’t like a good celebration, right?

4. Summer Holidays are just around the corner – Aussie sun, Aussie Beaches, Barbeques (even for vegetarians), shorts and string tops, good, safe tans!!! Oh, and did I mention heaps and heaps of ICE CREAM!!!!!!!

Now explain to me again, how anyone could possibly not be ecstatic about October? 🙂

Gazing through the Perspective Window …

I broke my seven day fast today and once my bouncing off the walls in excitement celebratory activities at the thought of being able to consume garlic and onion once again had subsided, I started to reflect once more on why fasting is so important to me on my journey of gratefulness.

People will often question me on the point of fasting and though I used to struggle on the various “religious” reasons for the abstaining of certain foods, I have come to realise that fasting is honestly a very personal struggle. I commenced this fast quite a few years ago at first to be a sympathetic communal faster with my mum, basically so she didn’t feel like she was being punished (as I saw it in my mind at the time) on her own, my own mother beginning her Navratri fasting endeavours when her mum couldn’t keep them one year as she was ill at the opportune event.

I recall inhumane pangs of scrumptious desire for seductively mouth-watering delights during my seven to eight day struggle as being a lot more severe when I started in comparison to my (almost) indifferent attitude now. Don’t get me wrong, I still rush to the fridge on Ashtami to break my fast the way a raging bull gallops towards a vibrant red cloth, my fingers clambering to get a carrot in my mouth before Bugs Bunny could possibly finish his famous rendition of “what’s up Doc?”, but I don’t feel quite as desperate any longer.

The reason for this, I believe, is my newfound enthusiasm for the concept of fasting on an individual level. This has nothing to do with any misguided Eureka cloaked Holy Grail moments or sudden knee jerking spiritual awakenings, but more with my “let’s stop and have a look around” attitude that I somehow just (fortunately) fell into.

It’s so easy for me to take what I have for granted – my latest designer-wear clothes, my 58 inch Plasma TV Set I am joined at the hip to, my gluttonous never ending need to absolutely have those pair of pumps, and all the other unquenchable satanic requirements recklessly pounding against the walls of my cranium. As simplistic as it may sound, nothing makes me comprehend the way it feels to be so close to something and not being able to have it than when I am fasting. When I can smell all the wondrously wafting, teasing aromas that weave their meticulous yet sinister paths up my nasal passages, the way tantalising shades burst their delectable splendour on my partners plates, where heavenly fragrances, tastes and textures are so close I could touch and then devour them instantly … and still so cruelly not being able to consume them.

My mother used to often recite the worn out slogan of “do you know how lucky you are to be able to eat? Do you understand that there are so many starving children out there who dream to get what you have on your plate at this very moment?” every single time I complained about what was put in front of me. Until I started fasting, I just thought it was just another one of those pesky “learn as you live, words of wisdom” moments my parents were so bent on imparting with me until I realised how true it was.

I see so many around me that are so devastatingly less fortunate and fasting twice a year reminds me of those individuals perpetually. For a few hours, I can at least sympathise (clearly not understand) but empathise with them and the turmoil they must be going through about being so close to living the way everyone’s birth right should allow for and being so cruelly locked out.

So this morning, as I broke my fast and felt my mind shamelessly flirting with the devilry vegetables encompass I once again remembered how fortunate I am to be able to put my finger on something and get it. It makes me all that more grateful for the gifts I have and to remember not to so easily dismiss those around me who eye me with what people often mistake for envious disdain but to actually see beyond our glazed looking glass of perspectives.

Wishing everyone a Happy Ashtami come Ram Naumi and may each and every one of us be blessed with all the wonders the Universe has to offer, sprinkled with just the right amount of genuine compassion and understanding 🙂