Some adorned the branches,

Some fell by the wayside.

Some still fragrant,

Some lay broken.

Some still fresh,

Some all beaten up.

Just like all of us.

But look closely- the ones that are beaten and broken,

Are still beautiful.

The wind ripped them apart,

But they are still colorful.

They haven’t lost their charm.

So whether you are complete,

Or you are broken;

Whether you are fresh,

Or all beaten up by life,

Know that you are beautiful;

Know that you are beautiful.

When Spring refuses to spring

When Spring refuses to spring

And the clouds spell gloom

The buds won’t just bloom

Find that uber yellow bush

Or that extra lush patch of green

Or may be head out in rain

With a spring in your step

So that you find your Spring

Even when Spring refuses to spring!



You don’t see me

You see my grays and decide that I’m old n faded

But you don’t see my light

You see my crinkled eyes

But don’t see the suns I’ve braved

You see the laugh lines

But you don’t see the tears I’ve laughed through

You see my hardened hands

But not the burden that they carried

If you see me but you don’t see me

Then you haven’t known me

You don’t know me.


Sweet Tarts

Some more sweet little nothings from my sweet tart.

I usually choose lyrical videos when I play music from YouTube so that I do not have to worry about my daughter watching objectionable content. While listening to an old classic, I just wasn’t as careful. And of course, she watched the video closely.

Her: Mumma, see the guy is falling in love with the gal.

My husband and I exchange glances while she keeps watching. And then the woman in the video also thaws and shows her affection.

Her: Mumma, see now the gal is also falling in love with the guy!

She is five! I didn’t even know what the hell was falling in love when I was freaking 5 years old.


Her: Mumma, where did you meet Papa?

Me: At work.

Her: And he looked at you and thought that you are his perfect bride?

Me: (eyes rolled up to the back of my head) Yes!

Her: And you also thought that he is your perfect groom? And you married each other?

Me: YES!!


Her: Mumma do they ask the bride if she speaks English and then they give her an English speaking groom?

Me: No sweetheart, no one gives the bride a groom. A woman chooses who her groom would be and then goes and gets married to him.

Chihuly Glass Garden – Seattle

Chihuly Garden and Glass, Seattle, is a glass exhibit that opened in May 2012. Dale Chihuly is a glass sculptor who creates larger than life blown glass work. Other Chihuly Glass exhibits are located in Phoenix, Tavoma, New York City and Denver – to name a few.

I like to explore the places via internet before I make up my mind to visit but I was not prepared for the breathtaking beauty. The glasswork that spans indoor, outdoor and glasshouse settings is intricately woven together, a burst of colors and transports you to a different world.

The exhibit allows entry starting 10am. There is a yoga under the glass program that I didn’t know about. I read about it online later as I a saw a lot of people coming out with their yoga mats before I could enter the exhibit.

As you enter, you would come across the indoor part first. The dim lights and the pastel colors instantly steal your heart. This work of art is produced by pouring glass from a height allowing the long stems and heavy bases and also giving it a “gravity defying” look. The lights and the floor reflecting the artwork add soul to this work.


As you move further, you would see artwork inspired by baskets. I did not really find it captivating, so I moved on.

Next one was intricate blue glass sculpture, as if sea creatures were entangled in the tentacles of a giant monster. The transitioning shades of blue and the bright yellow star fish made a beautiful site. All eyes on the tentacles and everyone moved around it, as if a part of a ritual. I left some part of me entangled in those tentacles rising far above the ground.


And then it seemed that I had reached a passage until I looked up. The ceiling was full of most beautiful flowers in the deepest and most vivid colors. I couldn’t take my eyes off the ceiling. The flowers look almost fluid, as if they are going to melt and fall into your lap. You wish that time froze just there. I sat on the bench in the corner and allowed the colors to seep into me. I didn’t have my fill of it. I’m going back some day – I know it in my bones.


I was walking in a dream but I wasn’t prepared for what came next – A Thousand Flowers. Perhaps, everyone that has someone to love, will want to see The Mille Fiori with them. All colors under the sun, all the love under the sun, all the feelings possible and all the emotions possible – this piece of art invokes a lot inside you. I quietly sat in the corner and breathed it in, till I couldn’t take it anymore.

And I quietly walked on to these beautiful, bubbly boats full of treasure galore. I could almost touch the gaiety coming at me. Colors as beautiful as the Mille Fiori but the emotion, vastly different.


Some more intricately woven pieces, reminded me of stalagmites and stalactites – some rising from the ground and some hanging from the ceiling.


The next room was inspired by baskets, from what I remember. The textures were beautiful, the shapes too. The contrast in the color  on the inside and outside added to the charm.

And then I walked into heaven. The humungous flowers suspended from the ceiling, oozing color are one of the biggest blown glass sculptures by Chihuly. Set in the glasshouse, they flowers are almost hanging from the sky. Eyes heavenwards, breath forgotten, you are rooted to the spot. I wanted to lay on the floor right in the middle of the glasshouse, just under the blooming flowers. My only complaint that all the benches line the walls which doesn’t give you the best view. But I made the best of it I could. I couldn’t sit here. I just lay there quietly.



Then I stepped out into the garden. The outside failed to get through to me. Perhaps, because it was rainy, cold and broad daylight. I am a dim lights and color person. The blues were very vivid and the red very Christmas-y and the yellow very bristly.

I had to do the unthinkable. I retraced my steps back through the museum because I wanted to leave with dreams in my eyes and not harsh realities of broad daylight. I am going to go back one day, to relive and stretch the moments of beauty into eternity.


Never Occurred To Me!

Oh, I never said these things at 5. I didn’t have the head or heart for it.


– Her: Mumma, why is everyone’s blood red?

Me: because God made it that way (not getting into hemes and haemoglobin just yet)

Her: But, I want my blood to be a different color. I want it to be pink and blue as those are my favorite colors.


Her: Do we still miss people even though they are not dead but because they are in India?

Me: Yes, we do. But we don’t keep talking about dying. (She talks about it a lot, may be because the concept is still strange to her)

Her: (matter of fact look) But everyone has to die some day. We will all die one day.

Me: Yes, we all will.


Her: Can I hold this bottle for you? It is my way of saying that I love you.

Me: :O


Her: We made a lot of things in school today. A friend made a card that she thought wasn’t so beautiful. But I told her that it was very beautiful because I wanted to fill her heart. ❤


Her: Mumma, guess what!

Me: What?

Her: I now know that my kisses don’t heal the pimples on your face. They still stay and hurt.

Me: But your kisses still make me feel better 🙂