I am here in the library today. Again.
I happened to have borrowed a couple of kids books the last time and a couple of mine. Among which, I picked “Rushing Waters” by Danielle Steel.
This must be the first book in my life, that I have returned without completely reading it. Nothing against the concept of the book but in my hurry to get home last time, I did not check the genre. Just that the name rang few bells from my friends borrowing these in school days.
Really? No. I subconsciously picked it up because it had a beautiful cover page of water on it.
The story revolves around various characters, who among finding new love and divorcing their marriage partners, face a hurricane Ophelia in the city of New York. The book also exaggerated the common topic of discussion about the differences of the British and the Americans.
It bore me out. There was no exact real plot. Nothing in it rose my emotions. Although the whole book is a very emotional affair. It could have been very heart touching. But somehow it did nothing to me. I felt compelled to return it today. And I went beyond my principles and returned the book eventually without finishing it.
Or just maybe…my emotions are dead. Maybe it is going to take more harsher disasters to break my heart…maybe my tears have eventually dried? Or just maybe I picked the wrong genre.
As I sit here typing away at the Library computer, I really wish so bad that I could find a job. Where I could watch my kid have fun reading and I could work. I want a job. Real bad. I want to break out of this monotony. There are many brave decisions I can make even now, but each time I look at my son’s face, I do not want to lose his childhood.
I know kids grow up. I know that once they do they aren’t mine anymore. They belong to themselves. As much as I am prepared for that, I do not want to lose out on the little of childhood that I spend with them.
I need to do a lot of things. I am just waiting for the right time…..Da
So today is Eid. A lovely festival of happiness joy and so much excitement.
And here is what I made today.
The first picture is of SheerKhorma. A sweet dish made of milk, dried fruits, dates and vermicilli.
The second picture is of the ethnic Hyderabadi Meat Biryani accompanied by curd chutney.
It took years for me to master the biryani. Crisp criticism from my inlaws perfected the flavours and texture.
The sheerkhorma was my first trial today. Turned out yummy except that I fried the dried fruits a little browner than I should.
It was an amazing day today altogether. Spending time with my husband and kids elates me to the core. It wipes away everything and I start fresh.
I did some henne/mehendi on my hand too.
Oops. Looks like I deleted the pictures. I shall take better pictures of my henna as it darkens.
I finally cut my daughter’s nails. After almost 3 years, she finally stopped chewing them. They finally grew and I could cut them.
It might seem so bane a though to be troubled by the little act of cutting nails.
But to me, a mother, it is a huge feat. When she was about one year and some months, I cut her nails (like I did every Friday since she was born) the night before I was admitted to deliver my son.
The next day I promptly left. She was shattered by my absence. I do not know what all my baby daughter felt and endured. But after 7 days, when she finally came back to me as I went home, she was constantly crying, a very rage filled child with so much stubborness, and she began eating her nails. Strangely, the nails of her feet stopped growing too. This remained all the while we were back in India.
Since we have come here, and she has begun school, she is back to being a calm, excited and a much more happy child.
My motherhood scored a whole point when I saw her nails growing neatly and I could finally cut them. Thank you Lord. Thank you for these favours upon me.