Sitting in front of my good ole room heater in my faded red PJs with my lamp casting haphazard shadows over my desk, and I am suddenly overwhelmed by my day. Waking up after a night of delicious giggles with a friend who decides to spend Christmas eve with us, a wonderful dad and daughter morning jaunt while Ma pampered herself in the salon, treating my family to a super extravagant Christmas buffet at one of our favorite five-stars in the city, turkey, mulled wine, lamb roast, biriyani, plum cake, all our favorite dishes, an impromptu tea session with my sisters, a belated birthday gift, some great coverage for Sitas Curse - The Language of Desire in a leading national magazine, buying lots and lots of chocopies, chocolate cookies and candy for my Smallu and sending it all over so that she can smile the biggest smile when she sees her goody bag, and finally, a lengthy movie session with dad, watching Boyhood. A coming of age story that makes you laugh and cry. Easily. My suitcase nearly packed for Kolkata. Christmas texts and mails sent out. Calls returned. And, made. On any other day, this would pass of as kinda ordinary, perhaps. But not today, I remind myself. Or, maybe its what growing up teaches us. The small things. The regular folks. The sameness, in some way. Is what matters. The blessings that count. Staying much the same. The substance of our deepest prayers....
Posted on: Thu, 25 Dec 2014 17:20:32 +0000
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