“Too much garlic!” Amma snaps, muttering in Bengali.
She wants it her way- ancestral, based on her intuition, no rules, no measurements.
I tap numbers into my phone. Science over soul, any day.
She rolls her eyes. Bangles clink. I stir the pot. My speaker blasts music.
The kitchen’s a war zone.
She slides in a pinch of cumin, claiming her territory.
We collide over one pot.
“This is really good! What’d you put in it?”
Maybe flavour isn’t about being the same.
Signing off…
When I was younger, I really wanted to be the best at everything. I did ballet, dabbled in sports, creative arts here and there, and of course, academics were seated front and center. But the one thing that I really loved playing was badminton. Mind you, back then, I didn’t even go to training, hadn’t done even a single class. The rush of adrenaline when the shuttle struck the strings with a sharp ‘ping’, the realisation that I was one of the ‘sporty girls’ who now played ‘comps’ on the weekend with their oversized jerseys, knee pads and spandex shorts was enough to have me hooked. Obviously, I ignored the fact that badminton didn’t use any of that gear, like the delusional nine-year old I was.
Continue readingWe worship the neem tree on the first day of Chaitra, after Amavasya, when the moon is absent and darkness blankets every city in its comforting embrace. It is a time of honouring ancestors, performing rituals and connecting to our spiritual traditions. In West Bengal, where I am from, it is considered a manifestation of Goddess Durga, and the abode of Sitala, the protector against all sickness. For that reason, we eat its leaves, mixed with pepper and sugar, to ward off fever, and we burn the neem, to protect the living and the dead from evil spirits. In the same way, the tulsi is considered a manifestation of Goddess Lakshmi and Lord Krishna, and its presence is believed to increase purity and attract prosperity and protection.
Continue readingThe other day, I was sitting there, staring at the screen. You’ve seen the number of blogs I’ve written about writer’s block, and I was genuinely in an incredibly horrible creative…funk. The screen remained blank, to say the least, and I tucked my urges to write away in the corner of my head where they would forever reside in all their diminished glory. I walked away feeling more frustrated, with a creeping sense of guilt and dread as I thought I was “losing my creativity”.
Continue readingEven though “Diary Of A Wimpy Kid” and “Dork Diaries” taught me to write ‘Dear diary…’ and write a whole lot of nothing after(though I’d pretend I was introducing myself to a real person), I didn’t realise journaling was so much more effective for real life problems(though you could still start with the ‘dear diary’ prerequisite).
But journalling can get boring. I mean, who wants to spend time writing when we can simply internalize and explode days later…
However, for people who want to, know that it’s become a handy tool for relieving myself of stressful assessments, failing friendships and life in general, when everything becomes a bit too much. So, here’s a little idea of how to do it in a way that helps you (which has worked for me anyway).
Continue readingI’ve found that some days, life gets a little heavy- assignments, boredom, stress, that exam block that comes up right after you’ve finished your last term. Sometimes, you need just a few things in your head that can resuscitate those fried braincells for a tiny bit. For example,
Continue readingWeeks have started to feel different lately. When I was younger, I would groan about how slow the week goes, and how many more years I would have to deal with the boring monotony of the same routine over and over again. Now, they disappear before I even realise it. I’ll look up, and it’s Friday, and I’ll proceed to panic over how little I’ve done and wonder what even happened in all the days in between- I can barely remember what I’ve done daily.
Maybe it’s because life is so full. School, friends, work, volunteering, hobbies, studying- there’s always something on. And packed days blur together- or maybe the Earth’s spinning faster…
Or maybe it’s because I’m changing, growing older, more aware of how temporary things can feel. An endless year has turned into a marathon- and you want to hold onto late-night conversations, dumb inside jokes, even the stressful days- just a little bit tighter.
Maybe it’s because another one of my friends just graduated and I thought, “When did four years till graduation turn into a year and two months until Year 12?”
No one knows whether time will slow down again. Perhaps it isn’t supposed to. Maybe learning to notice the moments while they’re happening, instead of missing them when they’re gone, is the trick we’re all looking for.
Signing off…
Dear 11-year-old self,
As I found myself reminiscing over the memories and nightmares stemming from a whirlpool I have now been yanked out of, one which I lovingly termed Junior High School, a notification popped up on my phone, a mere number of days after my 15th birthday. “Write a letter back to your 11-year-old self” was the event set, created on April 10, 2021, the day when you published your very first blog after months of deliberation, apprehension and stringent editing, courtesy of Mum. So, here I am today, your older, wiser, more experienced and far more scarred persona, writing a letter back to you, answering all those questions you had no answers for back then. Consider it a testament to the time capsule you created, a reminder of the straightforward, joyful childhood I wish I could return to. Guess what, it’s now three years until your graduation, darling, and time is slipping away like a flowing river, never slowing down.
Remember?
https://miliscape.com/dear-15-year-old-self/
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