My happy place

This could be a long blog post about how much I miss the rains back home. Or this could just be the one stating my undying love for the rains and my home. I don't know what I miss more, the rains, a hot cup of tea, view from my balcony, the blooming garden, or just everything that comes with the rain.

My happy place

This is my balcony back home. The periwinkle at the far left is my forever blooming plant. The white lilies bloom like crazy when it rains and fill my entire container with their joy. The tiny elephant and a horse cart figurines retain and spread the aroma of the wet mud in the air. The one at the center is a tuberose plant, the only flowers which I adore. My husband planted this one for me because he knows how much I love tuberoses and every now and then he used to place a small bunch by my bedside. The palms are my husband's idea for creating privacy when we want to hang out on the terrace. At the far right is the tiny lotus pond, two lotuses bloom every alternate day, bright lavenderish violet shade.

White lilies

Butterfly Blue Pea

There's another plant here which I planted from the seeds I and a friend collected on our post-lunch walks. The butterfly blue pea vine, blooms beautiful blue flowers and is my absolute favorite flower after tuberoses. A type of wildflower and grows almost in any condition. Takes a long time to bloom, but when it does, it does with abandon.

It's said that when you are feeling sad and lonely, you should think of a happy place. This is my happy place. I can sit here for ages, till the stars come out, gazing at the plants, my terracotta figurines, the wet floor, the beautiful sky in the background. Many a moons have we spent on this terrace dreaming, talking, making plans, entertaining friends and family. This has always been a happy place and I can't wait to go back and enjoy the same view. 

So much depends on a red wheelbarrow

Source: http://www.aplithelp.com/red-wheelbarrow-much-depends-noticing/

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens

Don't put me on a pedestal

I refuse to be an ideal woman.

I am no longer going to juggle between my home and my work.
Some days, work takes a priority, some days my home.

I won't be the one to cook a meal because I am a girl.
I will cook because I love creating magic out of the mundane.

I am no longer the only one cleaning the house after a tiring day at work.
Some days, the mess is acceptable.

In my home, we have a rule - we work together, we relax together.
We don't let the other one sit and surf channels, while one is busy with the dirty laundry.

I won't be the home maker because I am a woman.
My home is shared with my partner and he will make it with me.

I love and honor my partner because he is my person.
He won't be my God just because he is a man.

I won't make sacrifices because I am a woman.
I adjust and adapt because it takes two to tango.

I refuse to bow down because I am a woman.
I change because love is always about accepting and changing yourself.

I will no longer be afraid of failures.
It's the challenge that keeps me going, and failures are but a stepping stone.

I refuse to stand on a pedestal for doing everything while killing myself.
I am gonna be deep in shit sometimes and still be real happy about it.


Random musings. I am blessed to be born in a family where I wasn't treated unfairly because I was a girl. I live with a person who doesn't believe I should do some things in the home just because I am a woman. He just knows I am better at some things and he is better at some. This pledge is for all women who are asked to sacrifice themselves in the name of marriage, family, home, and husband. The idea of an ideal woman, who manages her home and work successfully is no longer applicable. Let me be a human first.

The Recycled Book Store

I love the smell of a new book almost as much as Hermione loves the smell of a parchment. However, I recently discovered that I love the stains on the second hand books, the yellowed paper, nondescript scribbles, and broken bindings more than a brand new book.

After moving to San Jose, the only thing I really asked people about was a book store. Surprisingly, book stores are not easily available in this city. Yes, you will find the public libraries, I live in front of one, but the charm of a book store is very different than using the Kindle App. I asked my colleagues and the nearest one was almost 10 kilometers away. A little research revealed this small Recycled Book Store near my area, which I decided to explore with my husband one weekend.

The moment you step inside this book store, you receive a warm welcome from a pile of books, which are generally available for less than a $1. I always stop here. I enter and cannot take three steps inside without already picking a book from the welcoming pile. My husband moves on to the comics section.

The store is surprisingly well organised, by themes, and then alphabetically. One can get lost in the rows and rows of books, wooden flooring, and cosy corners to just pick up a book and read for some time. If you are lucky, the cats will graze by or stare at you. Cat lovers will love this place.

Recycled Book Store

I always wonder who was the original owner of the book, which I decided to buy. I always wanted to buy a Calvin and Hobbes volume and when I found one, it looked as if someone really used it well. Yellowed pages, brown stains as if someone spilled a little coffee, markers of the book being used, being read, being handled by someone else before me. The books invite me to not just explore the written words, but also guess work about who read it first. Did a parent read it out to their kid? Was a PG Wodehouse book passed on from grandparent to a grand child like my grand mom did? Was a book donated because the owners no longer had space or had grown out of the book? So many questions raise to my mind when I enter this shop.

A part of the science fiction aisle

There are also some rare finds that one stumbles across in this book store, like the one time I found an Asterix comic in French. I didn't buy it cos I can't read French, and my husband absolutely forbade me to buy anything just because it was in it's original language.

In a land far far away from my home, this recycled book shop give me a feeling of being closer to my roots just by helping me find my favorite authors, or favorite titles. It helps me realize that there are some common threads even when you are away from home. A Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, still gives you the same goosebumps that an abridged version gave you when you first read it probably in your teen age. The Lord Emsworth (from several P.G. Wodehouse books) is still that hilarious old forgetting man, which made you laugh not so long ago.

No matter how convenient it is to load a thousand books on your phone, when it comes to reading as an experience, I would any day pick a book, and now a used book over a new one.