History & Herons

South Indian Meals

The vegetables were neatly sliced & diced, the tomatoes were pureed, the tamarind was soaked, the rice was boiling merrily, the rasam was simmering gently at first and then with a ferocity matching the chillies in them. A South Indian meal was in progress. We do not set much store by one-pot meals in South Indian cuisine, and consequently all the burners were on. 

Efficiency. A production. An orchestra. 

I was listening to an audible book on The History of the United States  that was making me gasp in places, as I cooked.

After one particularly intense chapter ended, I stopped the podcast. In the ensuing silence an image arose in my mind.

Unbidden, unhurried, and unsullied. 

The gray heron

It was from my morning walk. Before the frenzied cooking spree to get food on the table. 

The gray heron. 

I have seen many gray herons. The common refrain in the household is that I have more photographs of the herons and egrets than I do of the children. This one, though, was the very first time I saw a heron go in for the kill at close quarters. 

The heron was less than 5 feet away. Standing still immersed in knee deep waters. Stark against the morning light. It was still cold – January colds of California – and then, slowly it waded into the waters a little more. Stealth. Strategy. And then, in one swift motion, it plunged its impressive beak into the water, and caught a shimmering fish in its beak. 

A second later, the fish was eaten, and it went back to standing in the waters. 

Whoa!

I couldn’t help contrasting the efficiency and speed of the heron’s meal against the one I was preparing. Dozens of spices, different boiling points, cutting angles for the vegetables, the right consistency, the right temperature, the right time, the right ingredients. 

In fairness, the heron was also probably listening to its version of American History from the walkers nearby, as it contemplated and went after its meal. All those opinions and snippets on Noble Peace Prizes, Venezuela and Greenland. But there, the comparison ended. 

Now, I cannot compare the taste – was the fish as tasty to the heron as the meal I had made was to our palates? I honestly cannot say. But the heron seemed content enough. When later, the family gathered around for lunch, they seemed content enough too. Wasn’t that the point? 

To Realms & Worlds Unknown

“Wow! Do people actually get up at 3 in the morning and drive up the mountain to catch the sunrise?” I said, my jaw slipping a good 45 degrees downward.

The husband, knowing my enthusiasm for these early morning fests, said, “Yes! But I was thinking of something else. Let’s go up in the afternoon, do a small hike and then watch the sunset. That way, we can wait for an hour or so, and watch the starry night skies too before heading back down.”

I nodded – did I tell you he was a smart cookie? I must have.

Haleakala Crater

So, that’s what we did. Haleakala Crater is one of the major attractions of Maui.  As we made our way towards the mountain, it was becoming gradually more scenic and lush. The volcano itself is a stunner – at about 9000 feet above sea level, it is a world very different from the rest of the island. Up there it actually feels like it is different from the rest of the planet.

One minute, you are parking the car, and looking at the trail map, and the next minute, you are on a trail called the Trailing Sands (Keonehe’ehe’e – slides off your tongue doesn’t it?) that transports you straight into the dusty dunes of Mars. Your lungs sort of leap into your throat, and your heart does this dance where it shows you what it means to hike at 9000 feet. But it truly is an experience. Some barely-there-scant vegetation is the only anchor to Earth up there. You are surrounded by miles and miles of volcanic rubble, and the shifting sands around you promise you bleakness. The sands are black. They are rust. They are brown. And there are pebbles, gravel all the way every way.

The worst part of this other-world hike is that you first go down, and then climb back up. If your heart was dancing the jig when you start down, it does the conga when you start back up. But this is where human beings are truly other-worldly too. You show them a trail in the middle of a crater, and you’ll find a swell number of souls all tramping up and down. “We’ll see you on Earth later!” They seem to say but they are there. Telling you you’ve got this, and snapping pictures for one another.

The sweat from the hike, and the cold from the altitude make you sort of yearn for a few warm blankets and a cup of hot cocoa. How did these astro-biologists and astronauts opt to go on missions lasting years to places like that in the movies? 

Alaula & Aka’ula of Napoʻo ʻana o ka lā 

The sunset was spectacular  once you got your breath back, and we huddled around the mountaintop peeking over the horizon as the skies did their magical thing of swishing out its robes. 

Napoʻo ʻana o ka lā – means the setting of the sun

Alaula – the glow of the sunset

Aka’ula – the reddish glow of the sunset

Within minutes, the pinks and oranges were gone – to be replaced by a pitch black sky and a million glittering stars. The temperatures dipped a frightful amount, and as we swiveled our necks up to the worlds above, a warm blanket felt more than welcome. Or even a warm towel fresh from the dryer would have been enough.

Towels for interstellar travels

I have no doubt that if we were to hike up into the skies there we would find our own species up there cheering each other on. “Just a little further and you’ll be on the other side of the star – just drink some water!”

I chuckled feeling a bit silly at the thought, but it reminded me of that fellow in The HitchHiker’s Guide to the Galaxy where he says the first thing a space traveler ought to pack is a towel. Well, the first thing a traveler to another world in our world ought to pack is a towel too.

The stars, and the crater had done its thing. By the time, we drove down the mountain side to our own planet, it was well into the night, and sleep under a cozy comforter and a temperature controlled bedroom beckoned us far more than the adventures of the universe.

Our Beautiful Earth.

We may enter realms and worlds unknown, but to enter our known world with the comforts of modern living awaiting us is no small blessing. 

The Tyrant’s Daughter

Early morning vibes

“What do you mean we have to jump in the ocean at 6:30 a.m.?” We were planning on snorkeling in Maui. Islands, especially those closer to the equator like Hawaii, have a sort of early morning energy to them, that dwellers from the mainlands like Yours Truly have difficulty comprehending.

The husband shrugged, and said either something to the effect of only-time-available or only-time-it-is-done. He was already tucking into toasted bagels, sounding happy and energetic. I whined. “You’re such a Tyrant for waking us up at this ungodly hour!” He laughed, and thrust a cup of coffee into my hands.

The daughter gave me a scolding, “Amma – if you have to go snorkeling you have to get up at 5:30. You can nap the rest of the day like a sea turtle sunning on a beach if you’d like, but you have to get up now.”

“Well – buddy up with him, why don’t you? You’re the Tyrant’s Daughter. That should be title of my book – The Tyrant’s Daughter! Why does he have to be so peppy at 5 in the morning?”

“Because we’re snorkeling. You kind of have to be!” She said, and I scowled at her. I sent baleful glances the whole way to the boat. I still wasn’t sure about the whole jumping in the ocean at dawn thing, but apparently fish don’t listen.

“You jump off here – and you can swim up to there – you’ll see some turtles if you’re lucky. Keep your distance..” I shivered, as the captains of the boat went on with their instructions.

The waters shimmered and looked beautiful. I am not denying that. We had spotted two whales and a baby on the way there. Granted, they didn’t look cold, but they hadn’t been pulled from a downy comforter in a room that already had the thermostat set to a comfortable temperature, had they?

Flip Float & Fiddle

I watched braver souls splash into the waters and flip off with their flippers and snorkels in place, while I just stood there praying for strength and warmth. Finally, when it was getting a bit shameful to put it off any longer, I took the plunge too. Once I got the hang of it, it was marvelous. 

I don’t know what the whales were thinking just about then, but I could’ve told them, the waters were not cold at all. Getting a healthy swim right around sunrise is the heartiest thing to do.

I flipped off and peered down into the most beautiful coral reefs. It was teeming with fish, and there up ahead was a large turtle having his shell cleaned by the reef fish, It was a gorgeous sight to behold. The sun’s rays piercing through the waters combined with the silver and black fish that were in abundance in the reef, and the turtle, put me in a sort of trance. I felt my heart stop several times as the turtle swam towards me – why do turtles look like they are smiling? Before I knew it, I heard someone holler at me to come back to the boat.

Note: Picture not from snorkeling, but elsewhere

Our next stop was equally breathtaking, and here, we saw rainbow fish, yellow sun fish and so many happy creatures, it was amazing. The corals are true marvels of creation. Here we are, trying our best to hold leaking roofs together, plastering walls, soldering outlets, while the reefs build and hold with grace and pressure.

I feel the tug in my heart to quote Gerald Durrell here. It is from one of my favorite essays in the book, Fruit Bats and Golden Pigeons by Gerald Durrell. Titled, The Enchanted World.

Quote:

Any naturalist who is lucky enough to travel, at certain moments has experienced a feeling of overwhelming exultation at the beauty and complexity of life <….>  You get it when you see a butterfly emerge from a chrysalis <…> You get it when you see a gigantic school of dolphins stretching as far as the eye can see, rocking and leaping exuberantly though their blue world <…. >

But there is one experience, perhaps above all others, that a naturalist should try to have before he dies and that is the astonishing and humbling experience of exploring a tropical reef. You become a fish, hear and see and feel as much like one as a human being can; yet at the same time you are like a bird, hovering, swooping and gliding across the marine pastures and forests.

You Are Not a Tyrant!

When finally I hauled myself back on to the boat, I started to feel cold again. But down there, in the waters, it was heavenly. I shimmied up to the husband and said, “You are not a tyrant for waking me up! It was so lovely – thank you!” He gave me a loud guffaw, and laughed.

The daughter said, “I think I need an apology over here as well.” She had a sort of shine that happy mermaids get after a morning of frolicking, and was chomping Hawaiian chips. “If I remember correctly, you were writing books about the Tyrant’s Daughter a few hours ago.“

I smiled sheepishly. Or Turtlishly maybe.

“Fine! You get an apology too. It was beautiful!” I said, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I thought I’d left my heart in the reefs, but then what was that huge tug I felt in my torso as I beamed my love out into the world around me?

Note: These pictures were taken in Monterey Bay and not under the seas at Maui. I did not take underwater cameras with me to record. I simply drank in the scenes and a bit of the Pacific Ocean too.

Dramatic Rainy Day Imagery

Not Dramatic?

“I did not like going for a walk in the rain the other day.” I said. The children clutched their hearts. The husband looked up from his chess game, which if you know the husband, is huge. I rolled my eyes.

“Oh come on! It’s not that dramatic!”

“Not dramatic?! Baboons battling elephants isn’t dramatic. You not enjoying on a rainy day walk?”

“Let’s pull up your posts, shall we?”

Rainy Day Adventures

“Okay….I get the point! Nothing unifies you lot more than this, huh?!”

Slithering Serpents, Morphing Worms, Shuddering Breaths

The husband kept his chess aside, and came to me looking concerned, as I fiddled about in the kitchen. “So what happened?”

“Nothing! It really was nothing. Usually I quite like…”

I gallantly ignored the snickering “Quite like indeed!”, and proceeded, “Just .. maybe I should’ve gone when it had just started to rain, and there was still light outside. As it was, by the time I went most of the sidewalks had flooded over, the darkness and cold had made things difficult everywhere. The street lights illuminated things I’d rather not have seen: there were such large earthworms everywhere! When did they get so huge? I mean, at that point are they earthworms anymore?”

“No mother – they are slithering serpents!” I glared at the brother-sister duo. They were having too much fun, and reveling in building on each other’s point to notice. I suppose points were to be given for quickness of repartee or whatever it is these debating champs award.

A Grouchy Day Walk

“You know that’s why most people don’t walk in the rain? They don’t come prancing in all wet, and shining with an inner light and all that. They huddle indoors. “

“They sip tea. They light candles.”

“They listen to music, watch TV.”

“You can try any of these things next time, and let us know how you feel!”

“Well – thank you all for telling me how you really feel! I am not going to be inviting any of you idiots on a rainy day adventure with me next time!” I said, making sure to point my nose in the air, and huffing impressively.

“Promise?” they said. 

The glee, I tell you! I couldn’t help laughing. 

This is not to say that I shall not go on other rainy day walks. I am too much of a pluviophile for that. Just that I didn’t enjoy that one. It was the earthworms mainly. The cold too. My aches and pains may have contributed. I sound like a proper grouch, don’t I? Everyone is entitled to a grouchy day walk aren’t they?

If Earthworms could fly

The day after though, I stepped out, and felt like a caterpillar who’s itching to burst into wings and flutter about. It was beautiful. I loved the clean Earth. The Earth was bursting with promise. The bare trees were looking stark in their beauty of abscission. The footpaths were cleaned of debris – all washed away, and all of the Earth’s songs were bright and beautiful.

I don’t know what the earthworms were doing, but couldn’t help thinking that they must envy the caterpillars right about now – imagine bursting wings to fly a day after the rains? I sent a wave to the butterflies on my walk. I wonder what they do when it rains – it must hamper their flight, isn’t it? I think I detected a humph from an earthworm buried deep in the mud. 

Amulee’s Green Party

The Cave of Quietude – Keats

There is a sort of quiet happiness – The cave of quietude as Keats so elegantly puts it, a rather meditative sort of space where the soul expands. It is truly astonishing.

It happens when you are sitting and marveling at life – it could be on a beach like I did in Maui recently. A sort of reverent hush crept in – It was time for the sunset. The waves were calm and all around us were signs that we were meant to be peaceful with the Earth around us.  The children and I went off on a little saunter to catch the sunset at a leisurely pace.

There, by a log of wood, I stopped short and said “Ooh – look somebody made a sea turtle out of rocks and sands!”

We had watched an instagrammer make a sand castle earlier, putting all amateur attempts to shame. So, I really thought it was another beach artist showing off their skills. (There are so many ways in which people are famous these days, it almost makes fame look normal.)

Aamai, Amul, Amulee

“Ummm – it looks like a real turtle to me!”, said the son, walking cautiously. But he also heard Maui’ian rules about keeping 10 feet from a turtle, so we settled on a log of wood conveniently placed 15-20 feet away to watch. Was it alive. Was it real. Thrilling questions for one on a sunset walk by the beach wouldn’t you agree?

We sat there and hoped it was real and alive. It would be such a tragedy if it weren’t. I sent a silent plea to the universe to let the turtle live long and prosper.

As though the turtle heard, it lazily opened its eyes and peered at us. A little lengthening of the neck – no exertions, no fuss. Then, determining that we were harmless souls, closed its eyes and went straight back to sleep. I cannot tell you what a scene like that does to one’s nerves. It calms and excites at the same time. In those quiet moments where brilliant life blends with peace coexistence, the soul expands. 

We spoke in reverent whispers about myths and fables that humans have come up with to capture the lure and aura of these gentle creatures.  Kurma Avatar (The way Lord Vishnu came to save Earth in the form of a turtle). I could understand it – they truly exude calm in a frenetic world. They made us saunterers stop, sit and take in the sunset, did they not?

“What should we name it?” I asked.

More hushed suggestions. “Amulee” – I said. “Aamai means turtle in Tamil, and this one is a very sweet one, so I like to call it Amulee.”

“Do you think it is a female?”

I confess turtle biology baffles me. So I threw my hands up. “Fine! Amul if male and Amulee if female. Happy?” I said smiling.

The turtle opened its eyes and craned its neck ever so slightly. I took it as a nod of approval, though it could possibly not have understood. Right? Sitting there though, I doubted it. Most creatures have shown themselves to be more brilliant than us – they learnt how to communicate us, while we did not do the same for other species. Apparently, cats only meow to communicate with humans – not amongst themselves. Dogs understand English and vernacular words to communicate with us. Dolphins too. These turtles have been around beach-goers all their lives, I would not be surprised at all.

Green Party

We sat there, and maybe it was the magic of seeing the turtle share the beach with us, but we saw some tiny streaks of apple green in the gorgeous sunset. Poets have written about it. I know L M Montgomery talks about apple green in the sunsets in her books – I thought they were a North Pole phenomenon. I have always felt a little off-kilter about the ways writers write about the brilliant streaks of color they see in eye colors and sunsets. But then, the daughter mentioned Green parties in their university – apparently, folks gather around at sunset and look for the streaks of green in the sunset.

This time, we did see it. Mild, and no darker than apple green, but still there. Amulee’s Green Party was a success.

The next morning, it had gone back into the ocean.

Books That Shaped My Inner World in 2025

Mind-blowing

I come to one of my favorite things to do as the year winds down. Which is to see all the different ways in which my mind has been kept occupied and shaped by writers who tirelessly work and put out the good stuff for people like us to just sit back, relax, and read. What was it that Carl Sagan said, “Books really are the best inventions of mankind” or something like that, and was he right?

“What an astonishing thing a book is. … one glance at it and you’re inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic.”

[Cosmos, Part 11: The Persistence of Memory (1980)]”

― Carl Sagan, Cosmos

I saw this beautiful hotel building on a recent trip to Hawaii, and every front-facing wall had some sort of cuneiform inscriptions on them. Very becoming. Some were stick figures – some assorted sea creature shapes. They probably told a story, but I couldn’t stop to find it all out because I was being dragged across the street and being yanked up by my forearm to keep from tripping and falling (again).  What I am trying to say with this rather meandering and pointless story is that the Hawaiian hotel may well have had the legend of Humuhumunukunukuapua’a there, and there was no way I would get to read it. (Humuhumunukunukuapua’a is a reef triggerfish and Hawaii’s official state fish)

Books, on the other hand, I got my dose of humor, facts, science, fantasy and history. I romped through the annals of British aristocracy, World History, US History, types of flora and how marvelous their cell walls are, all without stepping out of the comfort of my own bedroom. What can be better?

So, let’s see shall we? Every year, my classifications and categories of the books I read over the year changes, and that is just as it should be, for I don’t follow a particular pattern. Sometimes, the libraries make the choice for me and I am grateful. There are simply too many authors with too many interesting things to say.

Still there is a sort of quiet happiness – the cave of quietude as Keats so elegantly puts it, a rather meditative sort of space where the soul expands. It is truly astonishing. Then, you read something that not only expanded the writer’s soul, but now the readers’ too, and before you know it, you are thoroughly entranced. Books have managed to work their magic through ‘the shackles of time’ as Carl Sagan so niftly put it.

Anyway, all this to say that I did my spot of reading in 2025 and now, I get to look back on them and make sense of the lists.

Let’s go, shall we?

Banish ennui: Children’s books

Facts are Facts!

Good old stories

  • The Place in Us – Fatima Farheen Mirza 
  • Remarkably Bright Creatures – Shelby Van Pelt
  • In the Time of Five Pumpkins – No ! Ladies Detective Agency – By Alexander McCall Smith
  • Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck
  • Katabasis – R K Kuang

Science Fiction

Under The Sea

  • A Whale’s World – By Ian MacAllister & Nicholas Read
  • The Dumbo Octopus – A graphic guide to cephalopods by Annie Lambert
  • Narwhal – The Arctic Unicorn – By Justin Anderson Illustrated by Jo Weaver – Candlewick Press
  • From Shore to Ocean Floor – The Human Journey to the Deep – By Gill Arbuthnott Illustrated by Christopher Nielsen
  • Do Penguins Have Emotions – World Book answers your questions about the oceans and whats in them
  • In my tsundoku shelf: Playground – By Richard Powers, How Sound Travels,  Life in the Oceans – By David Attenborough

Call it brain fog or a lack of forethought – but there were a few books that I had only a vague recollection of. I didn’t write little witty notes against their name, and I now have a bit of difficulty remembering the good bits. I suppose it happens – but I am happy that I read them all the same. I usually am.

Please share your lists of recommended books for the year. As you can see – there are loads to be written about, but I suppose I shall just have to chip at them as best as I can. 

Here is to a marvelous year of reading for all of you in the coming year! May the force be with you!

Word of the Year

AI Slop

I understand why AI slop is such a big deal.

Who said the e-revolution killed reading? Now we get to read all about how Kate Winslet once refused to wear eye shadow for a shot’s retake, and took a stand for all females the world over. Character matters more than looks girls. Remember that. Remember Kate Winslet took on all of Hollywood with her courage that day and redefined the industry. I think Julia Roberts might’ve done it too. Or was it Meryl Streep? I forget.

If you want to change the way you say something, go for it, Emma Thompson changed the way the industry thinks by saying what she thought one day. Even Audrey Hepburn proved she was more than a pretty face by saying something, You’ve got this.

We just need you to become famous, and then AI will make a courageous princess of you. 

3 paragraphs or 300 words about it. Then, thousands of likes and shares, and you are well on your way. 

We also know that Paul McCartney may have said good-night to his grandchildren when they stayed over with him. Now, what a wonderful human-being? If only, we all learned that the smallest words have the largest impact. Keanu Reeves also said something the other day. I am not entirely sure. But it all goes to prove that AI is watching and learning.

So, I have been saying goodnight to all things bright and beautiful, all things big and small ever since. I may have frightened the deer in the meadows one night, but – I learn from the best. Saying goodnight to fellow beings is a form of compassion.

All day everyday in our scrolling for your amusement and entertainment. The AI slop is generating, regurgitating, and filling our spaces. As someone who lamented the increasingly short ways in which we communicate, the AI slop seems to be doing the writing for us. Now, all we need is a chip to read it all, let us know what to think and just program it in seamlessly. The human experience bypassing the human. 

It isn’t just about the words either. The other day an old lady took on a tiger. It went viral.

Inspired by her, an old lady in a rural village ran after her cat and is now recovering from a hip fracture. AI claims to have no part in it.

Cynical? Yes. 

6-7

Come on! We can do better than that. We can give ourselves maybe a 6-7 on effort can’t we?

I cannot help but think how marvelous it would be to have AI bots as your students in a classroom. “That is not good. Try again. “

Voila!

“You are right!” It says. So mature, so humble, and so willing to try again. Over and over till the teacher tires of it. Such hardworking bot-kids.

I have seen children whine their way through a single sheet of paper for an entire hour.

That is what the human psyche is capable of. What’s wrong with 6-7-ing our way through life? We were doing perfectly just that till AI slop decided to come along and make us more productive. So, you want us to 8-9 our way through life now? What gives?

Rage-baiting

All you have to do is make a reference to a certain prime number in the 60’s. Eye rolls and exasperation follows – but I could see this leading to rage-baiting too.

Stop rage-baiting the hardly working children, AI Slop!

Parasocial

One word that reminds me of simpler times when we laughed at the bigger effort jokes. I remember the pater laughing well before he found the YouTube clip for me – he laughed through it all explaining every sentence the comedian spoke in that clip.

The build up to the comedic punch-line is as funny as the joke itself. “Do you really think you can arrest me for an expired driver’s license?” the comedian says on the screen. “Shall I make a call to Inspector General of Police?”

The traffic policeman freezes. “Do you know him?” He says.

“Yes – but he doesn’t know me!” says the c, and the audience collapses laughing.

I must check the number of times that snippet was played and replayed on YouTube for laughs.

Must we have a word for the kind of anticipatory laugh that comes from that long-ish sentiment?

Yes. Snaps fingers. Efficiency. Have you forgotten? Get with the times.

Now, the comedian needs to be stopped by the policeman demanding to see his expired driver’s license and he says, “Parasocial IG”.

Parasocial means: Having a one-sided relationship with a famous person. 

Vivek did not redefine the industry with that 6-7-ish attempt at comedy did he? No, he worked through 6-7 retakes of that shot before they got it right on cinema. He rage-baited that traffic cop for a laugh.

Sigh! So what have all these words got in common? You ask.

They are all winners of the Word of the Year title.

  • Merriam Webster – Slop
  • Oxford University Press – rage-bait
  • Dictionary.com – 67
  • Cambridge dictionary – Parasocial

Winter Solstice Celebrations

The last week of the calendar year is one of my favorite times of the year. The bustle of the year somehow sparkles – even as plans are being drawn up for the new year, and the world keeps spinning. I am one of those nitwits who gets excited by the winter solstice– I actually stand outside and imagine myself on a tilting Earth and wave hello to the setting sun. I know. The children already told me – thank you!

“Hello Yule!” 

“Do you have to sound like a mule, mother?”

Why yes! I am glad you asked. There is a reason we ask for the Yule-tide spirit during Christmas. It is a pagan festival honoring the winter solstice.  Norse roots and origins indicate that this time of year was especially tough for those near the North Pole.

They bought into their homes what they could remember of green – hence the Christmas tree, the yule logs for warmth and for some weird reason, they also brought in goats – maybe to honor their gods – didn’t Thor have a weird fascination with them? Or maybe they just liked goat’s milk and didn’t fancy stepping out into the cold and dark to get some.

Dongzhi (冬至)

That’s the winter solstice in Mandarin. This one, like many symbolisms, linked back to the yin-yang symbol. The darkest days of the year – yin, can now move towards light – yang.

This is reason enough to tuck into some dumplings as celebrations, no?

Dark Mofo

The winter solstice in the Southern hemisphere, is of course, celebrated on June 20th when we are mooning about our side of the earth enjoying long days of sunshine. The Tasmanians, have a festival called the Dark Mofo in which they go for nudist swims as the sun rises – on the coldest day of the year for them.

Human-beings celebrate in many different ways- I can’t seem to be comprehend them all.

In any case, the skies are hugely rewarding this time of the year. The rain-filled clouds – what are they called? Nimbus clouds or the especially royal crown looking strato-nimbus clouds.

The stars on a clear night, or when the clouds are parting seem especially bright too. It is probably why Jesus’s birthday was chosen this close to the Winter Solstice. There is something about watching the cold sparkling stars above, and wondering about how hot and cold the universe really can be. 

The tiny sparkling lights of holiday decor in our neighborhood make night-time strolls delightful. Cold – but delightful. I once scared the bejesus out of some deer in the meadows as I belted a Christmas carol out into the wilderness. Sirius shone particularly bright that night.

“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” — Albert Camus

Have AI do something like that and I’ll accept it has achieved human intelligence.

The Joys of Hygge & Fernweh

We have all felt the pull of the universe against the warmth of ourselves. At times, the expectations of the outer world seem to be in sync with our inner worlds, and at other times almost discordant. Like the tree whose branches wildly throw themselves into the air – without shape or form, nor any apparent laws of Physics – skewed right, skewed left, center of gravity tilted.

Wild, and yet ensconced safely behind a fence. 

Could that be the human spirit on some days? The pull of society vs solitude. The pull of adventure vs comfort. The pull of this vs that. Here Vs There. 

Here & There – By Thea Lu

I read this children’s book, Here & There, written by Thea Lu the other day that seemed to encapsulate all these feelings through two different characters who experienced and belonged to this wild Earth in their own contradictory ways bringing home the fact that both our domestic and wild spirits need a home within us. Or maybe that was the interpretation I came up with. Regardless, it addressed a certain yearning for Fernweh – a lure for distant lands – that the holidays seems to awaken in us. A contrast from the cozy comforts of the home and reading by the Christmas tree that the very same holidays beckon one towards.

The book compares and contrasts the lives of Dan and Aki. Dan owns a cafe in a seaside town. He stays there – always welcoming new friends and visitors into his cafe, but firmly rooted in his space. His perspective widening, and mind broadening with every interaction with a stranger. Never once leaving his place of belonging.

Aki, on the other hand, craves travel and adventure. His life is colorful – he meets many people who have become friends during his travels. He has seen volcanoes erupt in the oceans, made friends with migrating whales, and shared a drink with fellow travelers in sea-side cafes. 

It is a beautiful meditation of all the different ways in which we belong. How we can broaden our horizons whether we leave a place or spend all our lives in it. After all, perspective, imagination, empathy are all fantastic human capabilities.

In Praise of Mystery – By Ada Limon, Illustrated by Peter Sis

Another book that I read in the cozy light of the Christmas tree also evoked similar feelings. This book, In Praise of Mystery – by Ada Limon, Illustrated by Peter Sis is a beautiful book about the poem that left Earth in 2024 aboard NASA’s spacecraft, Europa Clipper. Europa is Jupiter’s second moon and is believed to be full of water, similar to our own. So, this probe is meant to investigate the possibility of life on Europa. 

Ada Limon is a poet laureate and it is her poem that is inscribed on Europa Clipper. The book is illustrated by an equally illustrious illustrator. Peter Sis – is a MacArthur Fellow, Hans Christian Anderson prize-winning etc etc.

How it will be read is another question altogether.

This isn’t the first time we have sent our presence out into the universe either. Voyager’s Golden Record contains as many snippets of life as could be managed on the capsule – images, songs, and greetings in 55 languages are on it. Whale song, folk songs from Bulgaria etc.

Hygge Vs Fernweh

The message and book, In Praise of Mystery, speaks to that human yearning to find life outside our own planet. We have been sending probes to see if there is life outside, but here, right here on this beautiful planet, we can spend so much more time appreciating and protecting what we have. Sitting by the twinkling Christmas tree lights, warmed by the hot cocoa that is essential on such occasions, I thought of the world in Europa. It could be thriving or desolate. Cold or warm. The thrill of that extraterrestrial adventure is all very nice, but I was happy to be in my little home by the tree, enjoying the warmths of winter –  Hygge

The human yearning for Hygge & Fernweh can both be there, can’t it?

A Break from Breaking News : Please!

A few months ago, I was discussing the concept of a column with an editor. She suggested ‘It’s Not Breaking News’ – seeing as that was the theme of the writing on my blog. I felt inordinately proud at that. I loved that my blog was perceived as such.

It got me thinking of all the things I looked forward to reading in newspapers as a child. My brother went for the Sports and Automobiles column, I went for the Humor and Science sections in The Hindu. It is why I still love the Open Page section of The Hindu and was so proud to have been published in it as an adult. Who said dreams did not come true?

I remember smiling at the Slice of Life column written by V Gangadhar every week. After all these decades, I may have forgotten the content of his columns, but I remember how it made me feel. Combined with the illustrations by R K Laxman, this was week-end magic – reminding us of the joys of human living.

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

― Maya Angelou

Jane Austen

I read in a book of essays on Jane Austen’s works, a few years ago, that one of the reasons for her enduring popularity is not because love and affairs of the heart were a novelty, or because there was no other material to choose from, but because of the gentle reassurance of the warmth of humanity.

Which makes sense. Since it wasn’t as though the world was peaceful or even that her own world was idyllic. I think her choice of theme was powerful – she chose the best themes of humanity to write about. After all, she lived in a time of slavery, spice wars, economic upheaval, and before antibiotics came on the scene – which meant there must have been plenty of personal tragedy in her circles as well.

A Jane Austen Education

Incidentally , it is her 250th birthday today, and I find myself thinking fondly of her humorous characters and wondering whether a snippet of Emma or Sense & Sensibility is on the cards for viewing – even if only for 20 minutes. Let me try my luck with the family. 

P G Wodehouse

The same can be said about P G Wodehouse’s choice of theme. Young love, satire about economic classes, and gentle mockery of perceived classes among human-beings. He lived through the horrific 1st and 2nd World wars. He was interned in 1942, and taken to Germany, where he lost over 60 pounds and in his own words, ‘looked like something  a carrion crow had bought in ‘ – a scarecrow. He lived through the most horrific times. He also experienced personal tragedy after losing his step-daughter Leonora – a daughter he adored. 

Do Not Hate in the Plural

Any of these writers could have taken any of the less savory topics – poverty, slavery, war, crime, misery, hunger, disease, imperialism – name your pick. But they chose to focus on the light, on the rewarding, on the beautiful nature of the human spirit that looks for happiness and peace.

When Humor Jumped in Neptune’s Pool

As Stephen Fry said on P G Wodehouse:

He taught me something about good nature. It is enough to be benign, to be gentle, to be funny, to be kind.

– Stephen Fry on P G Wodehouse

Please! No Breaking News!

In some ways, I think I try to do the same on my own modest scale with my writing. When the news is relentless. When I receive Breaking News multiple times a day, I think I yearn to give myself a small dose of what is important, and what is worth working towards – finer qualities of humanity and their spirit, nature, humor, friendship, camaraderie, family, books. 

I wish we could embrace more of these, so that we can find a way to get properly outraged when something horrific happens. As such, it is a brutalizing cycle of normalizing outrage. When the shooting at Brown University became news, how can the leader of a free country come out and say, “Things happen.” ?

Fallout after Trump’s critical statement about Rob Reiner

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/2025/12/15/donald-trump-brown-university-shooting/87772785007/

Why are we not more affected by it? 

A voice in my brain answers logically: Because the desensitization is deep.  Because you cannot be angry and upset all the time. Because action means nothing. Because this. Because that. Because.

What is the best medicine?

Then I stop to pause and reflect. The warm qualities of humanity is the best antidote. It is the only thing that matters in the end isn’t it?

It is why 250 years later, we still relish a Jane Austen movie’s nth remake. It is why we still laugh at the absurdities of life as outlined by P G Wodehouse, Jerome K Jerome, Miss Read, R K Narayan, Gerald Durrell and stalwart authors who do the difficult job of finding light and keeping us hopeful through it all.

Breaking News is bleh. The lack of Breaking News is what we have to strive for.

“Be the reason someone smiles. Be the reason someone feels loved and believes in the goodness in people.”
― Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart

So, my questions for you:

  • What is the source of reading that serves as the light in your life?
  • What is it that you look forward to rather than dread?