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Sandhya Acharya

My Mother

When I was in school I read a story of the most beautiful woman. This is what I remember – A little girl was lost and crying uncontrollably. The villagers asked the sobbing child to describe her mother.She could only say she is the most beautiful one. The villagers pointed one beautiful woman after another but none of them were her mother. Finally a one eyed, tired looking woman comes running and hugs her lost child. The child at last relieved hugs her mother then turns to the villagers and says, “See! This is my… Read More »My Mother

A child’s perspective

When we decided to move to the suburbs we were truly anxious about all the adjustments. We were excited about the bigger space we would have, the backyard and of course knew there were good schools – all the boxes so to say, were ticked. But we would miss the buzz of activity in the city, the prevalence of people, the view of the ocean from our apartment on the hill, the eclectic community that surrounded us, the noisy trains and buses we could see from the window. There we were on flat ground divided… Read More »A child’s perspective

A Hammock

Build me a hammock of my mother’s loveHanging in space between the starsWhere I can lie and look aboveAs the moon, full and glowing, smiles down on meAnd I rock myself to sleep

Feeling right

Its strange sometimesHow right you feelAll along through everything you don’t seeAll along feeling so right – Until one day you see the lightBut till then you float, you flowMuch less in control, you let it goSo one day when you see the lightAnd from all along when you were just not rightYou remember the buoying, the tossing the free fallingAnd smile at all the things you believedAnd right or wrong – you feel

Reading Vikram Seth

I was reading J Krishnamurthy’s book – The first and last freedom where he talks about seeking and finding happiness or gratification. Something about what he had written, sparked a memory somewhere. It was probably 1997. We had organized our very first book exhibition at the college campus. It was a very busy 3 days and of course several days of pre-work that had gone into it. There were a lot of things that happened during this time, however, today I shall relate one incident. It was the end of day 2 I think. We… Read More »Reading Vikram Seth

“There is no happy ending. But there is the day. The sun, the rain. The chance to say I love you. The willingness to forgive. The courage to remember. The opportunity to be kind. The ability to laugh and to be generous. The fact that we can choose our joy in each moment, no matter what. This, in itself, is the miracle.” Sixtyfive Roses – Heather Summerhayes Cariou

A Phase?

There is no beauty in tragedyThere is no time to wasteAnd I love movies like Chandni Chowk to ChinaThough this too might be a phase

Random Acts of Kindness – The sequence

I visited Mumbai right after the blasts had burdened the psyche of the city and the world in December 2008. Newspapers, TV stations were only broadcasting the incredulity of, the anger of, the tragedy of the blasts. Among all the tragic news I spotted one article in the Mumbai times about a guy who believed in doing random acts of kindness. All he did was do something nice – like have tea with the autorickshaw driver, expect nothing in return and ask him to pass it on. There was a picture of the guy –… Read More »Random Acts of Kindness – The sequence

Random Acts of Kindness – Connecting (see post below)

Evening of December 14th. It was a normal winter evening for Mumbai. People came to Marine drive from other cities just visiting the place, on work, on vacation. Housewives took a break and walked in groups. Young joggers, old joggers, dog joggers all streamed in and by. In one end of Marine Drive stood a group – just introduced to each other gathered together to do something random. A random act of kindness – a random act of connecting to people. Mumbai was scarred and scared after the blasts and we wanted to reach out… Read More »Random Acts of Kindness – Connecting (see post below)

Change

What am I holding on to?Change that clinks in my pocketIs that a reassuranceA rational explanation of “what is”Why does it then weigh me down?Its only change after-all

Outside and Inside

Nick stood outsideA piercing across his browPatiently talking to strangers About charities helping children across the worldSpending a Saturday evening – to spread the wordI wonder if he will I guess you can do that in abundance – WonderWhen you sit in a coffee shop and look outsideAs the sky goes from grey and drizzlyTo rainy and then dark; now lit by neon lights Inside – rows of little lights snake around on the red ceilingAnd music – obscure enough to be perceived intellectual – fills the place I hear titbits of conversation in different… Read More »Outside and Inside

No Update

Its been a while since I recorded HappeningsSometimes its good to just let it happenSometimes its good to just let it flowSo basically – nothing to record