Tag: fun

Free Play: Free to Play? Play to be Free? Just Play!

“Many animals learn by playing.”, my professor said, as she laid things out on the floor.

I nodded. I knew it. I have watched children play, I remember playing for many pleasurable hours myself. It is why I can be entranced watching squirrels play. I have always appreciated imaginative play.

What I did not realize is that I have forgotten how to do so myself.

I watched with a little awe and some glee as our professor set out things for free play. There were sticks, magnetic stickers, crochet scarves, yarn, finger puppets, lego blocks, kidney beans. Piles of things to play with, and I suddenly felt a sense of overwhelm. You see? I don’t remember when I played without an expected outcome. Years? Decades?

Didn’t I have to make something?

What do you mean – I can just do something that I like?

It was then that the activity really hit me. Unstructured play is a luxury – even for the children. When told to do anything, we do not know how to do that.

AI generated from article

Play morphs with age too

Thinking back, even play has morphed with time and age. Rules came into play – team games, board games, level-based games: they all tried to make their way into your life. But playing just so we could? The more adult we became, the less we did that. Even though, we tried our best to incorporate games into our lives, the nature of the games morphed. There were competitive games, skill-based games, team-based games. But just playing with the materials available to us?

How long since you just took some play-doh and squished it? Without making a fish or a heart out of it?

At the end of the 20 minute session, I realized that I was still quite confused. Did I play correctly? Our training to play it right meant we have forgotten what it is to play.

Did I feel happy? I genuinely do not know.

Did I feel satisfied? I am not sure.

Did I have a good time? Maybe – I meandered, but I was assured that was the right thing.

I came home, expecting to regale the husband and children and ask if they are willing to entertain free play. The son had gone for his running practice, the husband had gone for tennis, and came home miffed about a game they should have won but didn’t. And I stood there, running awfully late behind my dinner making schedule to be chatting about playing.

Is Play the Basis of Culture?

I remember writing about the recess being the basis of culture in an article over a decade ago. I relished that thought now. Why do we not have scheduled recesses in offices and work spots? A time when everybody is expected to be doing nothing?

I spent the next hour and a half cooking, cleaning, scrubbing and taking out the trash, with no energy left to think of playing. But I thought to myself. How wonderful it would be if household robots enabled us to play again. Just for the sake of it.

Wishful thinking I know. But I did know that of all the laments of adulthood, the fact that we no longer skip while walking, prance while doing the laundry, or twirl while making toast, or have free play  sessions with our pals is my biggest lament.

As I sank into bed, exhausted by my day, I reflected on the unstructured play session: Did I enjoy it? I still do not know. But I remember golden shining moments like little fireflies in a jar of moments when we played as children. Joyously, without agenda, and without expectations.

It is a happy talent to know how to play.

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

How do we relearn that art, and embrace it in our lives again?

Sunsets, Asanas & Aces: A Magical June 21st

Yesterday was a beautiful summer day – it was a culmination of 3 days that are all uniquely loved in the nourish-n-cherish household. Any guesses?

Father’s Day:

This year, father’s day coincided with the summer solstice, which means the loved father in the house got to play his tennis, lounge around with the kids in the pool, and enjoy a quiet evening while the sun was still out.  

Other Father’s Day posts: Fathers

International Yoga Day:

June 21st is also International Yoga Day. So I was genuinely thrilled to start the day with an early yoga class. My muscles were just waking up- sure. The limbs not yet nimble enough – yes. The breaths not yet the even meditative quality – of course. But in spite of that, or may be because of that, the yoga class felt amazing. For all these elements had somehow been made even better by the end of the class.

Buddha in Lotus?

 

Summer Solstice:

June 21st is the summer solstice. We love the summer solstice. The son, even as a young boy, would have his friends out all day playing dawn to dusk on the longest day of the year. It was something that strangely excited him. Osmosis of energy – is that a thing? But in time, we all look forward to seeing the sunrise and sunset on summer solstice too.

When it turns out to be a pleasant day temperature-wise, breeze-wise, clouds-wise, moons-and-planets-shimmering-wise, it turns into a magical day. We went swimming, lazed around watching the sunset, moonrise, and the beautiful cosmic planets shining near the moon. Jupiter, Venus and the moon truly look beautiful in the evening skies.

Summer Solstice related posts

How did you spend the summer solstice, father’s day & yoga day?

🥬🌿 Cabbage extravaganza 🥬🌿 & 🥬🌿 Coriander dhamaka 🥬🌿

The Buy-more-save-more theory in economics

Which one do you buy?

  • The $0.50 for 1 coriander bunch OR
  • The $1 for 3 coriander bunches?

There is a theory in game theory that Mark Whatzisname wrote about. The Paradox of Choice. Give people a choice of buying 3 cokes for a dollar, or 1 coke for 50 cents, and most people would buy 3 cokes.

The pater would have bought 15 cokes for $5.

He calls it Economics (Buy-more-save-more) . The rest of us call it a variety of names – well, this is a family-friendly blog, so let’s keep away from that shall we?

Anyway, what I am trying to say is that I could have bought 3 coriander bunches. I bought 1 coriander bunch for 50 cents. 

The economic upheavals of choice

In that one second interaction, in which I told the billing clerk – ‘It’s okay. I’ll just take this.”, it is astounding the number of things that went through my head.

🥬🌿 The father’s disappointed face. As mentioned, he is a big connoisseur of the buy-more-save-more theory. He is proud of it. He says that is the path to economic prosperity- so in that small act, was I rebelling against the pater? Delayed as far as rebellions go – who rebels after leaving teenage behind so long ago? The pimples a distant memory of turbulence on the face.

🥬🌿 The potential chutneys and thogayals the extra 2 bunches could have gotten me.

🥬🌿 I was already long in line. I had to leave the store in minutes – did I really need to hold up the line for 2 bunches of coriander that cost less than a dollar? Not to mention the half-rotting bunch already in the fridge. There is only so much coriander a nuclear family can consume.

Now, there are people who will come and tell you not to let things like occupy your mind for longer than its worth. I ask you. Who is to tell my brain this?

Paternal disappointment is a hard thing to swallow. I saw the pater’s face across all the decades, across the churning oceans, and across the continents on Earth crumple in disappointment. And I felt a stab of guilt. I almost gave in and went back to running across the aisles of the grocery store. Luckily I had places to be.

🥬🌿 Cabbage-o-phobia from Cabbage Extravaganzas 🥬🌿

I called the parents that evening, and was greeted with the mother’s characteristic shriek. “Your father has bought a large cabbage again! What am I do with 3 large cabbages for a family of 4?”

I shelved the coriander problem to attend to the more urgent cabbage problem, and asked the pater what he was thinking. Did he not know there were two large cabbages at home already – given that he had bought them himself the previous day?

“Yes kondhai (child) – but they were on sale. Yesterday, it was a buy-one-get-one cabbage sale. Today was a cabbage extravaganza.” He said looking befuddled as to how his sound economics was landing him in trouble again.

“There are so many cabbage dishes – you can make cabbage curry, cabbage kootu.” Then, he looked lost again – his cabbage repertoire seems to have given out at this point, and he looked to me for help. I laughed, and gave the mother ways to hide a cabbage in cooking – “You can boil it, and mash it for pav bhaji, sneak some into soup, without everyone developing a cabbage-o-phobia.”

Note to reader: There  is a phobia of cabbages that falls under the Lachanophobia bucket, also known as  Brassicaphobia.

“Do you know what I sent him to buy? Ladies finger (okra). The child has been asking for vendakkai (okra in Tamil)  curry – so I sent him to buy just that since he already went grocery shopping yesterday. He came back without vendakkai and a large cabbage the size of his head instead!” She said.

Cabbage extravaganza & Coriander dhamaka indeed!

I laughed, and felt this was a good point in the story to lord my superior decision making skills with the coriander bunches.

Really, after all these decades on this planet as a daughter to these two, I have learnt nothing I tell you.

The moment I said it, the father moaned. “You left free coriander on the table? Have I taught you nothing?”

The mother who was shrieking about cabbages not even half a minute ago, turned on me with equal disappointment, “You could have made coriander pickle and stored them for over a month! “

“Yes – why don’t you call me after you are done pickling the cabbages?!” I said smartly, and put the phone down. Grocery stores really don’t realize their social responsibilities, the time and effort their deals cost us. Indo-US relations

Cabbage extravaganza & Coriander dhamaka indeed!

🫐 It’s a 🫐 Plum 🫐 Life! 🫐

🫐 It’s Plum Season 🫐

I’ve written about the Joys of Jam Making.  I do love the fruitful camaraderie from plum season.

I waved at the Fed Ex truck driver as he turned into our street. The son said, urgency dripping in his voice, “Quick ma! Now you’ve established contact – you can give him some plums!”

I stared at him.

A beat.

Then. I started laughing.

The wag!

I have been accosting all those who come home with delicious plums, but this felt a bit much. Plum season in our neighborhood arrives with a splash. Suddenly, there are dozens of plums plopping all over the backyard. Ripe, tasty, beautiful plums.

🫐 Plums in a Splash 🫐

I cannot help missing the mater. If she were here, she would be making plum jams, plum chutneys, plum pickles, plum juice, plum rasam till we all heartily felt sick of plums. I myself have been going in and picking up plums by the dozen and bringing them in to share with friends. I can barely understand how quickly the bare tree, bloomed into the prettiest blossoms, and gave in to the light green beautiful leaves before sagging with fruits at every point.

It is a miracle, and yet, every year, I am mesmerized.

One day, I felt three plums hit me from the topmost branch. I was picking those that had fallen, and then realized that these three could have been the handiwork of squirrels. I looked up at them beseechingly. What was the point of all that exciting running around and chasing each other on fences if they weren’t helping out with the plums? As if responding to me, one cheekily stopped and held my stare, as if to say, “I have had my fill. A fella has got to jump and run!”

🫐 Did You Know? 🫐

Fruits arriving in bounty are a blessing. The children, despite my best retreats, continue to resist the lure of fruits. Every year I start it up – each time with a different taste-bud related tip. “Did you know? Your taste buds change over time?”

“Did you know having a fiber-rich helping of fruits helps your gut bacteria?”

“Did you know fruits help make you happier because the gut bacteria love digesting them?”

“Did you know this?”

Or

“Did you know that?”

To which, I also receive a plummy reply, “Did you know we don’t like plums?”

What I did not know until recently, is that not all plums dried become prunes. Of course I had a gooey rotting mess before I learnt that particular fact, but apparently, only a certain variety of European plums can be dried to be preserved as prunes. Oh well.

If I could send some plummy goodness via the internet, I would. But as it is, somethings still require physical proximity. But if you are in the vicinity, please stop by. We’ll have a plum time!

Moon, plum blossoms, this, that, and the day goes

Kobayashi Issa

Up to my neck!

The Giraffologist 

I sat with a set of children’s books in my arms. I looked down fondly at the one in my hands. The first one was about a giraffologist – the title pulling my attention almost immediately. What a delightful sounding profession?

The Giraffologist – Anne and her Tower of Giraffes – by Karlin Gray and Aparna Varma

The book is based on Dr Annie Innis Dagg who was the world’s first giraffologist. The world’s first primatologist, Dr Jane Goodall, is of course well-known. But Dr Annie, who went to Africa to study her favorite animals, giraffes, just 4 years later is practically unheard of. That is the weird nature of public attention.

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/kitchener-waterloo/new-heritage-minute-anne-innis-dagg-giraffes-1.7648146

Dr Annie’s life and work was made into a documentary in Canada honoring her work towards preserving these tall creatures.

The daughter’s drawing of a giraffe:

Bill Bryson’s book, The Body – A Guide for Occupants

I was thinking of giraffes and their beautiful necks one day after reading Bill Bryson’s book, The Body – A Guide for Occupants. One section of the book dealt with how prone we are to choke. One particularly sad anecdote about a person who had a gold coin lodged in his throat was especially excruciating. If nothing else, I am glad we now live in a time and age when surgical techniques have come so far from the ones outlined in the book. (The coin only fell out when he was hoisted by his foot and swung like a pendulum. )

Beautiful Necks Everywhere!

Our evolution into bipedalism means that necks took on a truly unique structure to support the head, and provide a forward looking face for navigation. I stopped and chuckled at that. I was on a walk, and just like that, I started noticing necks everywhere. The crane, the gray heron, the hummingbird, the dog, squirrel and the cat.

I got home to look up the giraffe’s neck again.

Did you know that both giraffes and humans have the exact same number of bones in our necks : 7

Yet, the giraffe’s neck supports its long neck, and its heart supports pumping blood all the way up there. All those jokes about tall folks( How’s-the-weather-up-there?) suddenly feels biologically profound.

In any case, the understanding of our biology, our evolution, and our unique places in the planet is shaped by so many factors –  How many giraffes with weird ears and longer tails evolved before the long necked ones that we know and love?

I craned my neck to look at a white egret crook its neck and plunge into the waters with precision and force for its breakfast, and gently massaged my own neck. ‘Up to my neck with worries’ took on a new meaning too, and I hoped giraffes and herons never had to use that phrase, when worried.

Imaginating Nothing

 

Nothing Good!

“How was your day?”

“Good!”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” 

For years, this was the standard response I got. It takes grit and determination to get past that answer every day for years. My school’s motto was Never Give In for a reason. I plunge on. “So when is Dr Seuss week? Should we buy a Dr Seuss hat?” (We still have the hat somewhere I think.) “It’s read-across-America week right? What should we read for our read-a-thon?”

You see? The thing is, I cannot imagine their school to be a place where nothing happens. It can’t be when they are making diasporas of dinosaur habitats, writing book reports of The Magic Tree House, learning about exotic animals – supposedly in preparation for their field trip to the zoo, and making art so their little fingers look like they dipped their hands into a rainbow. 

Yet. Nothing and Good. Good for Nothing answers both.

Then, something wonderful happened. 

Literature Lives

I started volunteering in elementary school classrooms. Sometimes, as a volunteer teaching experimental science, other times as a connoisseur introducing fine books of literature. 

“Oh! You’re a Booklegger lady now? Cool Amma! I used to love when they came to school.” said the son one day when I told him that I had signed up to become a Booklegger volunteer at the local library. 

“You knew about this program?” I said, stunned.

“Yeah, of course! It was always fun when the Booklegger people came.” He said.

“All those years I asked you, how was your day? And you never said a thing!” I said, somewhat stung at this omission. The children knew I would have loved to hear about volunteers from the library coming to introduce new books to them. Especially when I had to beg them to read books other than Captain Underpants and Dog Man all the time. He shrugged, and said “Eh!”, good-naturedly and moved on.

Nothing – by Michael Molinet

One day, I read the book, NOTHING – By Michael Molinet

“You have to read this. “ I said pressing the book to the son as he pranced into the house after biking with his friends one evening. 

https://www.amazon.com/Nothing-Michael-Molinet/dp/1733354840/ – NOTHING by Michael Molliner Book 

You see? The book even starts off with the exact sequence I wrote about earlier. How was your day? Fine! What did you do? Nothing.

The book captures the spirit behind the word ‘Nothing’ the way the son says it so perfectly, it is like the author has been around watching the son imaginate.

Imaginating Nothing

He loves to imaginate. A verb he coined himself and a word that has become a household word in the nourish-n-cherish home. It means actively imagining scenarios and living them. I know he fights off pirates and takes on armies when he leaps off the bed to the carpeted floor. The fake swords may not survive an actual duel on the battlefield, but the cushions in the house don’t stand a chance! 

So many times, the only thing that has stopped me from running out of the house fearing an earthquake, is the fact that earthquakes are felt from the earth, not from the bedroom upstairs. When his friends are over to play, the Richter scale shivers and stutters. 

Please head on over to the book to see what Nothing means when your child says they did ‘Nothing’ all day. I assure you it is more exciting than anything any of us do.

If only the Good days on which we do Nothing are half as exciting!

Good! Nothing! Good-For-Nothing Answers!

Nothing Good!

“How was your day?”
“Good!”

“What did you do?”
“Nothing!”

For years, this was the standard response I got from the children after school. Never one to be deterred though, I’d redirect, prod, ask specific questions: What did Shriya say about your new drawing pencils? Did Shrinik do somersaults after lunch today also?

You see? The thing is, I could not imagine their school to be a place where nothing happened, and the best adjective for the day was ‘Good!’. I knew for a fact that they listened to their teacher read out stories, they hopped along the number line, slid up and down through graphs, chased butterflies, had turf wars with sticks and stones, played sharks and minnows in the playground, were enthralled as they enacted civil wars, made the artwork that papered the walls of their colorful classroom, and so much more.

Yet. Nothing and Good. Good for Nothing answers both.

Then, something wonderful happened.

Dancers Move!

I started volunteering in elementary school classrooms, as a volunteer – sometimes reading out books, other times, teaching experimental science.

One day, we were experimenting with air pressure and force with the kindergarten children. One of the experiments was to blow bubbles to see how the bubbles stayed airborne. It was a lovely windy day, and the bubbles were a joy to teacher, volunteers, and students alike. There were delighted gasps as large bubbles drifted off into the air, and much chasing after the smaller bubbles.

When finally, the class was done, and we headed back into the classroom, the teacher said, “Oh! They have too much energy. They’ll never settle down to sit and do anything now. Let me get them to release some energy first!” I wondered what she would do, as recess was behind us, and lunch time was a while away.

I started laughing when I saw her switching on some music. “Dancers Move!”, she said, and the children seemed to know what to do. I watched mesmerized as the little ones danced to the music. What a wonderful way to blow off some extra energy?

“Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school.” —Albert Einstein

I thought everyone danced!

I narrated the whole thing to the teenaged son later that day as went on a windy day walk, and he laughed, “Yes! I remember doing that all the time!”

I tell you.

“All those times I asked you how was your day, and you said ‘Good!’, you danced in school?” I said, flustered more by this than the whipping winds.

“Yes…but don’t you see? It was good. Yes. But we did it all the time. It was nothing new.”

“Why do you think I yearned to hear about your days? We didn’t dance in the office!”

“Yes, but we didn’t know that! I thought every one danced!”

I couldn’t help it. I started laughing. It is true isn’t it? He didn’t know what our days were like. If anything, our days were good too. Just not listening-to-stories, playing-with-air-bubbles on windy days, and dancing to let-off-steam good.

So, what do your good days look like? You know? The days you do nothing.

Please share, I’d love to hear.

🐟🪸🐠 🐟 What A Wonderful World! 🐟🪸🐠 🐟

Disney Themed Apparel

It was the Friday before a long week-end. The son was excited that his college-going sister was coming home, and bustled about in the morning. “Amma! Do we have any Disney t-shirts?” He yelled in response to my “It’s getting late, what are you doing? We have to go.”

“It’s Disney themed clothes today in school. I don’t have any Mickey Mouse tees or even Marvel tees. Anything?”

I stopped – midway through pouring my coffee into a cup. How could there not be any Disney t-shirts in the house? How could Disney have snuck out so quietly? All those years of Disneyland trips and Disney themed toys and clothes. How could there be none now? I felt a pang for those childhood years that seem like they just rushed past & pulled myself together.

I vaguely remembered an old sweatshirt I had picked out for the donation pile, and was happy to see a small Mickey Mouse on it. Off we went to school jabbering about the daughter’s visit, the son sporting a sweatshirt with slightly short sleeves.

The daughter arrived later that day. After a joyous and somewhat exuberant reunion that made a few rose petals fall out in the flowerbed outside, order was restored.

“Movie night!” They yelled together when asked what they’d like to do.

Movie Night

Choosing movies for week-end movie nights is something of a process in the nourish-n-cherish household. Every person is allowed 3-5-10-12 vetoes. Then, among the ones that did not get a veto, there is a vote.

Sometimes, a process like this tests Yours Truly’s patience, but the husband never really tires of it. Every veto spurs him on, like he is watching a great wave gather power before crashing on the shores. He gets excited. He bows to the almighty powers of whatever is trending then: the internet, social media, AI, and relentlessly chases after good entertainment options. It is like watching a puppy play with a butterfly. The more the butterfly flies, the more excited the puppy gets.

It baffles me.

One day, on a walk with my friends, I confessed that I sometimes just agree to something to get the process over with. I was still wincing with the previous night’s choice: Amazing Superhero This or Fantastic Superhero That. One of those.

Much has been written about the democratic process, but one of my friends nailed it that day on the walk: “I am all for democracy, as long as I get the outcome I want.” She was referring to the choices she would like her children to make, of course, but I found that true and hilarious. Ask any politician, and it is something they would heartily agree with in private. Some may even be brash enough to tout it as their trademark.

Over the years, the process has become more laborious. The husband rises to the challenge each time, and I felt a little sorry for him. I notice he rarely exercises his own veto just so that we can agree on something.

So, I told the children that between them, whatever they agreed upon, we’d watch that, and headed out for a walk with the husband.

Themed Choices

“Okay – how about we watch Tinker Bell today?” The daughter said, almost as soon as I set foot in the house.  I thought about it. “Interesting choice, but did your brother get a chance to agree?” I said. I could not imagine her newly-minted teenage brother who did not own any Disney tees agreeing to Tinker Bell.

“Of course he did!”, she said, ruffling his hair. “Tomorrow, we are watching Cars!” The son beamed. “We thought it would be an interesting back-to-our-childhood themed movie week-end.”

I smiled, and the husband moaned. “As if it wasn’t enough that we had to watch these movies on repeat for years!”

“You can use your veto.” I said, feeling sorry for the man, while the children objected furiously, “You said we could watch anything as long as we both agreed!”

The husband, ever a sop to appease the children said, “No no! We’ll watch.” And then sighed so heavily as he took off his shoes, I thought he was getting a foot massage from an alligator.

So, that’s how we found ourselves in a Back-to-Disney movie marathon.

Back-to-memories

It was wonderful. Both movies had to be stopped several times as we remembered little anecdotes from their childhood. These movies formed the basis of so many conversations, stories, games, Disneyland visits, theatrical shows of display, and dumb-charades games. It was a part of our culture.

We seldom to stop to think of long-form entertainment. But any time we do, we realize how important it is to have good entertainment options. Books, movies, art, music, theatre. What would we do without it?

It would be like living in a monochrome world, my mind supplied. I watched the children cackling over some joke in the movies, and thanked the world for Disney movies. The memories in our heads seem so much more colorful thanks to them.

I made a note to buy some Disney t-shirts and beamed my happiness, feeling almost bioluminescent.

What a wonderful world!

Dance-wherever-and-whenever-you-wish Month

April Dancing

Spring time walks are meant for dancers. But human beings, especially as adults, develop this appalling habit that we associate with dignity. We curtail our movements. Getting stiffer and stiffer as we age, and then complain about the loss of agility. We have International Dance Day on April 29th. Why don’t we make dancing in public – just like that – in April a social convention? 

Look at all the world in April.

Is this Dignified?

The hares don’t just move – they hop, they hip, they hip-hop
The birds don’t just fly – they flit, they swoop, they skim
The dogs don’t just run – they wander, they romp, they swagger
The snakes don’t just slither – they rattle, they pulse, they coil
The plants don’t just grow – they blossom, they reach, they sprout
The trees don’t just become green – they flower, they photosynthesize, they crown

I, too, feel the urge to prance and skip
But adults don’t just dance in meadows – they think, they weigh, they worry
When the mind leaps, and the body stays still
Where does the energy go?
It sings, it muses, it writes.
All the while asking: Is this dignified?

The other day, I walked with difficulty – you see what I wanted to do was skip, prance and twirl a jig or two. That’s spring time – like a coiled spring waiting to release its energy. I was on a trail with people. Adults who all seemed to be in a similar state of imbalance between the internal energy and what the world expects from us. I could see it in the size of their smiles.

How do you do Mrs Potts, and you, Mr Binns?

How marvelous it would be if we could do just as we please? Skip and sing. So what if Mrs Potts scowls or Mr Binns purses his lips. Alas! We do not do that. Not when one’s hair is graying. That’s when you are supposed to know better isn’t it? I could not help thinking of the young child who skipped to school as she was dropped off by an adult one morning. Most adults had the ‘office look’, but even they could not help smiling at the spring time exuberance of this child.

Mating in Springtime

As I walked on musing thus, I stopped to watch the spring time mating rituals with amusement. There were two wood ducks chasing after a female. Their bluish green heads glinting in the morning sunlight.

Elsewhere, a couple of blackbirds, and a pair of hummingbirds swooped in circles. Teasing each other, attracting their mate. That’s when the western grebes grabbed my attention. They ran, nay skipped and danced, across the waters – is there a touch of the basilisk in them?

I am not sure I recognize giggles in birds, but if I could anthropomorphize, that is what I would say – they giggled and reveled in each other’s company. They danced together on the waters, and then skimmed below the surface for, what I can only assume is, frolicking underwater.

When finally, they surfaced one after another, as though daring each other to see who could hold out the most, I laughed. They were far from where they swooped under, they managed to continue their play and resurfaced together before running on the water again.

Apparently, that is their mating ritual. Really – birds have the most beautiful mating rituals. Take the peacock for instance- this bird isn’t leaving anything to chance. 

Talk about dancing your way into hearts.

Dance-wherever-and-whenever-you-wish month

“I wish we would dance!” I said to the son later that day when I told him about International Dance Day.

“I think you already do that, amma. You just think you don’t. I saw you wiggling your hands just now!”

I laughed. “But I want to properly dance you know? Tap dance, ballet dance, classical dance, jazz dance. ”

He rolled his eyes.

Who would like to join me in petitioning for a dance-wherever-and-whenever-you-wish month?

The Magic of Rain & Light

The past few days have been days of unimaginable beauty in the Bay Area. They have been rainy days. Rainy days in the Bay Area are a different kind of beautiful. For it rains, it pours, it drizzles, it teases, it dances, and it drums and sometimes just goes away. Occasionally, if you are really lucky, you can see a rainbow or two. 

One evening, the son & I wrapped up and went on a walk. It was a windy day, and temperatures tend to dip a bit more than usual on windy days around the time of a sunset. The clouds were so thick and ready for some rains, that we knew we would not be gazing at the sunset exactly. Still, that time of the day seems to beckon one, doesn’t it? Something about it makes it feel sacrosanct. 

Feeling Bubbly?

We chatted about this and that. Mostly of the experiment I had done with the children at the school I had volunteered in. Our experiment with air and whether they have force, culminating in blowing bubbles were a thumping success if the joy, laughter and smiles were anything to go by. We blew small, medium, big and humongous bubbles into the air. It is an amazing feeling when volunteers, teachers & the children have a great time. I told the son as much, and he grinned with what I knew was not just indulgence but genuine happiness for us.

Shining With Divinity?

On the way back, a beautiful trick of the light meant that the world behind us glowed golden through the clouds, while ahead of us, it glowed silver through the clouds. The pair of us stopped our chattering, and smiled together. Both of us stuck trying to find the right word for the light. Maybe even wondering how to catch this moment in a literal bubble. For it was so beautiful. 

“Divine light, huh?”

“Yeah! I don’t think I know exactly what that light is, but this comes closest no?” the son agreed. 

Light is such a beautiful phenomenon. We spend our lives trying to hold it, we have endless literary devices around it (Light at the end of the tunnel, lightness of being, making light of a situation) – But always, it is in a positive light (huh!) 

Rainy days bring out the beautiful potentialities for experiencing light. It can evoke melancholy, gratitude, divinity, surrender, and most importantly awe. 

Rainbows

When the raindrops manage to create total internal refraction, there is nothing but joy, wonder and an overwhelming sense of loving this beautiful Earth with its thin blanket of an atmosphere that allows us to experience rainbows. 

On Sunday night, I snuggled into bed and read heartily the essays on the atmosphere, bubbles and rainbows from the book: The Miraculous from the Material – Understanding the Wonders of Nature – By Alan Lightman.

That seemed like a marvelous way to say goodbye to the rainy week-end. How was your week-end?