Vedasri Siddamsetty

 

The bells are chiming aloud

marking the journey abound

 

There are but a few twinkles

those worth many a wrinkle

 

Where laughs bring together

curves tumbler after tumbler

 

A hope is a prayer surrendered

to the mighty heavens rendered

 

Lots to come and lots afore

words are but slight vendors

 

Selling dreams if not relief

sharing tomes of stories brief

 

Breaking the sound of silence

with chatter without violence

 

The chirpiness of my voice

will leave you with no choice

 

But to embrace the peppiness

bespeckled with sheer happiness

 

So go on and hear the leaps

of silent poise and deep belief

 

The buoyancy of the matter

lies in never-ending chatter

 

Tune out the quiet wonder

for a witty whimsical launder

 

Hear now loud and hear again

for life is short to over begin

 

While you wait for warm appeal

toasting stars that you can see

 

and all the joy you can feel

For then, allow me to speak.

Of all the tombs in the world, none is as poetic and grand as the Taj Mahal, the symbol of love, though tainted with a zillion stories in the books of history, never fails to impress. The Humayun’s tomb, another one such architectural spectacle is not so tainted as it is celebrated. Taj’s lesser known cousin, the Humayun’s tomb hosts several Mughal royalties, but as a piece of architecture it sure is unparalleled. An assembly of Turkish and Mughal architecture, the structure includes several delightful elements of Indian architecture, mostly Rajasthani elements of design.
Set on a platform, the structure is flanked by the traditional Mughal gardens with the Char Bagh and rises up to the bright blue sky with all the perfect tenets of scale and proportion. Unlike the traditional Islamic tombs, the mosque is conspicuous by its absence, instead, the complex includes the tomb of Humayun’s favorite barber apart from the family members.

While the jaalis are stunning the most beautiful part is the domed structure of the tomb. Its a poetic wonder, and gazing up to the white plastered dome, one cannot help but marvel at the sheer genius of the ancient craftsmen. The jharokhas and turrets atop the tomb adds many an Indian element while the pointed Islamic arches speak of its origins. Great architecture is classified by it’s ability to photograph beautifully, like they say, its gorgeous from every angle, in any kind of light! The Humayun’s tomb easily passes that criteria and shines as an example of great design in the country.

Woo-man is a superpower

Its a rare kind of a flower

That refuses to grow very far

For what if there is that tar

In close quarters it stays happy

If twisted turns a tad snappy

The moods are for the rich

Who could afford to twitch

Planted once it is seasonal

If antsy it could be treasonal

When planted again it blooms

Otherwise casts a nasty gloom

From mothers, sisters, friends

To beauxes deeply christened

A woman can be a strength

One that takes the length

In good health and happiness

Or simply a growing weakness

Its not so much for the men

But for its very own brethren

There is a exact specific tense

That is seen with a clear lense

Though it makes no sense

Is extremely intolerably intense

There is nothing more hard

More heartening, tough and sad

Than it is to woo a woman

Especially if you are not a man!

#internationalwomensday #sorrynotsorry #livefree #impressnowooman

My quest to experience the hill stations of South India has been taking me on an expedition across the south over the past two years. Thanks to the Roads and Highways department of the Indian Government, all roads that connect to hill stations are simply said, in one word, motorable. And that’s how we a family of three, with another family of three got to the “queen of the Nilgiris”, Kodai, a short for Kodaikanal. Though closer and most often reached from Madurai we went the tour via Coimbatore. Roughly six odd hours later, crossing the temple town of Palani, we reached Kodai sighting welcoming clouds all through the ascent.

With a star-shaped lakee as the star-attraction of Kodai, the hill-station is a lot less noisy and a lot less crowded too, than Ooty, but its  just as beautiful or even more. It did brin back memories of Coorg to me. Probably the mistiness of the two, or the chill vibe the two have as such. However much the physical topography of the land was gorgeous to say the least with conical trees and bellowing clouds touching down, every now and then. With private boarding schools like the Kodaikanal International School right in the centre of the city, we could spot very many students all over the quaint cafes and restaurants. With their Louis Vuitton backpacks and Armani glasses none-the-less. Uber chic and uber cool. Karan Johar may not be off point with his Student of the Year franchises I’d say!

But the best part of Kodai is not so much the visual feast it provides, not even at Tamaraa, the gorgeous property with a stunning location, it is undoubtedly the food. Every cafe serves undoubtedly the best hot chocolate, cheese, ice-creams made fresh, the cows are definitely happy in this locale ;D With the Kodai brand hitting the stores across the country, we all get to take a little bit of Kodai back home. If not for the cheese, it’s the chocolate. Ooty chocolates have always been very popular, but Kodai chocolates are unmissable too. Our short stay at Xanadu in Kodai was homely and luxurious at the same time, with lovely food and great hospitality. Cycling around the lake has got to be the best part of Kodai, mostly engaging with the starry lake is the high-point of the hill-station. One of the most beautiful in Southern India. For Sure.

Koh-I-Noor literally translates to a mountain of light and it was the name given to a very large oval diamond mined at the Golkonda mines on the Deccan plateau of India weighing over 108.8 carats. The diamond was long looted by the British and sits in the Queens elegant crown but back in the roots of its origin, the famed hotel chain ITC has named its newest addition in Hyderabad, the ITC Kohenur alluding to the mountain of light. This one though not only is a mountain of light but it also offers spectacular views of modern Hyderabad, the city whose gems are now data, skills, panache and willingness to embrace the new and the mighty, an open mind. Pearls and diamonds don’t shine as bright as the newest locales of Hyderabad do. This city has always been a gem, holding precious jewels not just under the soil but also uncanny and precious characters over the soil. The Nizams for that matter, with their eclectic choices and even eccentric ventures. A trip down the memory lane of this city will definitely take your heart away.

The Kohenur celebrates this city through paraphernalia on the walls, the bidri work on the columns, bevelled and faceted mirror work on the ceiling and enthralling art at every turn. It is poetic and magnificent with a generous dash of sustainability but mostly a time of delight. The dazzling lobby for one features art inspired by local finds and also houses a singer rendering some interesting notes as life happens in the lobby. The hotel talks of responsible luxury, employing radiation harmonisers, supporting local crafts, alluding to cultural pride, but it also boasts of state of the art air conditioning, expensive materials, neatly finished interiors, global architects, foreign interior designers and that takes away a lot of merit it talks of. I ask again, like many Indian architects and interior designers do, as many Indians in the creative industry do, as many business leaders in the country do, why do we need someone non-Indian to help us interpret our culture or even worse help us celebrate our culture. The more laudable thing for ITC to do would have been to employ Indian designers, Indian architects, if they can’t find what they want then groom their own like their competitors do. Why can’t LEED include something on the lines of local designers and saving several carbon points by avoiding flying designers and teams from halfway across the world. For that itself and many other things I’d like to pull up LEED today. I believe they try to make things more sustainable by not turning into literal tree huggers but there has got to be a made-in-India element to this one, otherwise it’s completely defeating the purpose.

Here’s a takeaway, know that we are diamonds, maybe rough and unpolished but diamonds nevertheless. Even if we prefer Yi Jing over Kebabs and Kurries or Ottimo over Dum Pukht, we are enjoying foreign finds But if we lauding to the merit of the local and celebrating Indianness may we just as well make sure a it’s Indian, literally. For interpretation and fallacy we have the Westins and the Novotels to work their charm. I’d expect better from a home grown luxury hotel chain, ITC for sure. And well maybe then they’d shine bright like a diamond.

Today is World Suicide Prevention day and on this day I’d like to take a moment and talk about this gem of a Bollywood movie, Chichchorre.

Stay with me on this post and more so watch this movie till the epilogue song. For no matter what if you have had the great fortune of going to a National institute in this country and have survived its hostels, this is a movie for you to watch. Don’t mind the language and the spin-offs, not all hostels are the same, but do capture the essence of this movie and hold on to it for dear life.

We put so much pressure on ourselves and our lives in general, making sure nothing goes wrong and the minute something does go wrong we get to work trying to set things back on track. It’s like we take the wrong bus to miss our destiny only to find later that the wrong bus was very much that same destiny we were trying to avoid. There is so much power in letting go, in losing, especially and only if the best has been served. A corollary of the same is what the Bhagavad Gita prescribes, in Hindi, ‘Karm kar phal li chinta Mat kar’, translated as, ‘do your work and don’t worry about the results’. Even if you do agree with this statement, the movie drives home the point.

It’s fabulous on many accounts to know the difference between aspiring to be the best and losing with grace, celebrating both with equanimity. A dear Grandma of mine once told me to treat wins and losses with equal elan and indifference. Perhaps that is the only way to live in mildness marked by a positive mindset, to be of a middle path rather than an excited soul, or simply to choose excitement equanimously with no shade of sorrow. To be excited then consistently rather than being an oscillating soul. But mostly to not be plagued with worry or negative thoughts of any kind. Aloofness is also as debilitating a negative thought as any other. Charlie Munger has repeatedly told reporters the secret to living a long and happy life. “Stay cheerful”, he says, “and let go of negative thoughts”. Let go, being the key word. Do not let go of life, let go of the thoughts. Choose enriching ones. Ones that support, ones that live.

Am no newbie to suicide. My college was so harsh and I saw several cases where students were so badly criticised that there really seemed to be no hope. For a super high achiever failure is never an option and can be literally life threatening. No one should ever be driven to the extent of ending their own lives, but more so no one should should ever care about the opinions of anybody, including themselves, over a life, even if their own. No situation is so terrible that it cannot be improved. Life changes more than we can ever imagine, the only thing in our control is nothing. So we must know or cultivate the drive to buckle up and enjoy the ride. Lives matter, opinions don’t. Success is even more fleeting than failure. We will all fail at something or the other, we will all lose at something, something that will blow the wind out of us, something that we never saw coming and when we do instead of chiding and guilt tripping ourselves we must let go of the failure but hold on to dear life.

Take a trip to the mall,

take a trip to beat the toll,

take a trip to Vegas

or take a trip to the moon,

but never take a trip to where guilt is,

Cause you never know too soon!

Let life play it’s cards,

And hand out it’s awards,

For what you think is a lemon,

May just as well be a melon,

A subtle relay of lessons,

To chill relax and simply give in!

Go ahead, give it a listen 👩🏻‍🌾

https://g.co/kgs/VRwE9K

Being a mother is exhilarating and exhausting if we dont also add emotionally daunting to the mix already and then it becomes equally excruciating. Enough with the e’s already you say. Well its the sleep deprivation that causes alcohol inducing traits in most of us and then the tolerance levels of painful people hits an all time low. The seriousness of life, the responsibility of raising a child, the society building careers of childcare are then put forth to the naive mother from all and sundry. You cannot even shop for clothes without imagining in your head how cumbersome or not the dress would be while holding your little precious. The monsters make your life hell and then the mother starts questioning her own ability to function in her life let alone influence a little tucker. All the best laid plans are distraught with ill-informed aunts saying, oh she can do more or faraway relatives proclaiming how they built the taj mahal with an infant on their back. The seeming endless throes of judgement are so ridiculously sticky that one with the proverbial sensitive skin will dive promptly into a rather large can of gooey cookies and come out with all kinds of skin issues if not for the bulge. The acne, the inflammations then start a very vicious cycle involving all the brownies and the best bakeries in town. Phew what a mess. Poor woman I want to tell the poor me who laps up all the judgement and drowns myself in chocolate from the nether world. People are good or people are bad but mostly people are opinions, which absolutely shouldn’t matter be they good or bad. For I may not build the Taj Mahal much as I want, or I may not run a sprawling 10-acre house much as I need but I run my head and definitely the future of mine depending on how much of the blistering, boisterous advice I let seep into my skin. The political drama nevertheless.

So after being down in the dumps letting in all the judgemental frowns enter my airspace and headspace I made space stumbling quite randomly on this thing called play.

As I netted and replayed another harrowing conversation in my head I found my little pie pull at the ends of my dress. Finally at an age to be able to communicate through sigh and sign language he pulled me to his box of toys. And then we played. What a riot it was. Though I would constantly take him to play dates and swimming trips, looked up recipes and forayed into the kitchen, make healthy rules hoping they would instill healthy habits, create fun art time, buy lots of toys and clothes, learn and sing new rhymes every week I simply forgot to be me and play with no rhyme or reason. While I religiously clean and fed my munchkin I forgot about playing with him. And children are adept at this thing called play. So thrilled to have his Mommy around to play with him he was cackling away to glory. The laughs produced, the fun in running around pointless circles, the camaraderie generated was epic. If not for anything it reminded me of my school days frolicking about in the sun with my best friends. Afternoons spent hunting for treasures, painting, doing craft or evenings spent cycling around the neighbourhood with my brother for no rhyme or reason. Those were the extraordinary carefree days where doing nothing was not an option. We always did something and most of it led to nothing. In short we played. The opinions of others didn’t really matter. SO much so that parents-teachers meetings where the teachers complained that she talks too much didn’t get to my head. Or standing outside class for talking didn’t get to my heart. We still marched to our own drums even if the drums were frayed. Cause all in all we had this thing called play. As my brilliant son (am allowed to think so) did downward dogs, ate his toes, rolled on his tummy and played catch he drew me immediately into that beautiful thing called play. Something that I stopped doing as I was listening to the loudest instead of the soft voice of my conscience and the humble beating of my own heart. This isn’t a lifestyle post or a rant, it’s just me doing a facepalm and saying, ‘Oh thats all it takes to melt the innocuous world away!’ a little bit or more of Play!

Of course lego, sundials, abaci, music, paint, brushes, craft, ocarinas, drums, stuffed dolls, balls, paper, water, buckets, bats, bricks, mats, arrows, trucks, cars, buses, pencils, aeroplanes or companions in small scales help too!

p.s. though this could be for anyone this post is mainly for mothers who are so caught up in the rigmarole of childcare and lousy peoples opinions and barking instructions that they forget the basic premise of childhood – a thing called play!

translates from Hindi as – ‘to each his own preference, just, everyone should know how to be happy <hugs>

Being a fish is serious work and seeing fishes is even more serious work, as I would eventually learn on my maiden trip to the Republic of Maldives! A very short flight away from Bangalore, much closer than even the national capital, I wondered why, as an ocean lover and a certified beach bum, I never found myself washed up the shoreline of the fabulous, bright and beachy country. Its eleven-hundred odd islands are amply swamped with magnificent beaches, breathing coral and fringed palm trees. Not to mention the best of the best resorts that claim up several of the most beautiful islands. Four seasons or Taj, Exotic or Luxurious you name it and its there, so it is not very easy to pick a resort but once you do I suppose it makes absolutely no difference cause the beauty is the beach and spectacular is the sea and in this island country there is nothing more that counts. The azzure-ness of the waters, the very many shades of blue, the turquoise or aqua or simply bright teal are a balm to the senses. There are many shades of blue, the one in Alaska, the one in Iran, the one in Turkey and the one in Spain, but this one is extra special. It is extra delightful. It speaks of living breathing corals and white sand. What lies beneath is important and it changes everything.

Whether one flies or one speeds into the very many charming resorts one cannot help but be smitten by the vastness of the Indian Ocean. Seventy-five percent of the earth is covered with water and the smart ones are those who can swim they say, as Dory reinstates the belief in one of the most loved animated stories Finding Nemo – just keep swimming she says. As this island country is touted as one to soon go under-water lock, stock and barrel I cannot help but imagine why swimming should be in every curriculum. Ofcourse am partial to the sport as it is my favourite. But I was thrilled to bits to be in a country which is about ninety-nine percent of water. Comprising of 26 Atolls, Maldives boasts of extravagant aqua life, sharp sun, a bustling capital city and islanders whose smiles are as easy and as present as ever. Male, the capital is extremely different from its other touristy islands that name no resemblance to its very conservative capital. The resorts are true to their names a symbol of hospitality and have no connection to the republic except the sea. The sea is the only common thread to the islands are the sea, the vastness of it, the beauty of it, the mysteriousness of it, for you never know what lies beneath!

Baby sharks, sting rays, storks are spotted a dime a dozen and did not even require us to don the scuba or even the snorkelling gear. They came swimming to the fringes of the beach, so comfortable were they that it looked more like they were beach-diving to spot us humans! The proximity of the reefs to the sand shore is something remarkable, there is not much distance from the rooms to the beach, from the beach to the crashing waves, from the crashing waves to the reefs and from the reef to the deep deep blue sea. The television set, wifi, or even comfy sheets are no contention to the lure of the hammock, the shade of the palms, the dreamy orange-hued sunsets or the shimmery moonlight flitting away from the forever moving sea. A book in hand and sunglasses are deeply recommended though, also if one can, one must sport a bikini in these climes, the peer pressure is just too much. There are some serious vacay goals out in the Maldives, body or mind! But then for the burkini donners there is space under the sea. Yes literally!

Foraying into the deep blue sea is not for the faint-hearted, next time I probably will just choose the devil and not the deep blue sea. 😉 However for this time I mildly nodded to my five star PADI diving instructor and zipped up my gear ready to experience all the hulla-boo about diving deep. Mask check, Nitrox-check, flippers check, hair in a bun and a spirit to soar, oops sink, I flipped-flippered onto one of the two-passageways the resort make ducking the shallow corals onto the deep end. As an avid swimmer with a deep love for the ocean, water, really in any form or even the swimming pool I remembered all the underwater frolic swimming as a child and then as a teen, deep water diving but never once I had strapped to me an oxygen cylinder that literally felt like a ton of bricks. Why would anyone do that I wondered, when it was just so much nicer to swim on the surface, taking in long deep breaths whenever one could! It would take a few more meters under for me to understand. There is something so meditative and calming about swimming, the rhythmic movement, breathing, splashing of water, most of it, all of it. Under the sea as we dropped further I could feel my ears pop and then the schools, the very many schools of fishes. I cannot name any of them, some I’d like to call the zebra fish as they had stripes, the blue fish, the spade fish, frankly I couldnt be bothered cause my favorite animal is the dolphin and its not even a fish!

What was striking to me however was the coral reef. As the fishes dashed into the reef, nibbling away I could see portions of the reef breathing, with rhythmic slow movements and that was simply spectacular. Ahead of the reef the deep blue sea appears and the depth is unfathomable making it even more thrilling, one never knows what shows up and swims around. A shark made its way to us and as it did not bare its teeth I tried not being offended that it did not consider me being worthy as food. As it went by I tried focussing on the many other fish who were equally less bothered by my presence. They looked so bored and didnt even seem to want to take the opportunity of my presence in their habitat to chide me or my humankind for polluting their home, the seas. Fishes I must say are worse than cats. No expression, no hello, no acknowledgement even in the remotest sense. It felt like I was in an aquarium and since we werent supposed to touch the coral we said a quick hello by patting gently. Coral reefs are so gentle they say that if touched they will simply die. Well then better to maintain distance from sensitive creatures! A note to myself as I was only recently learning. After about forty-five minutes under the sea, with the disney soundtrack ‘Under the sea’ playing on loop in my mind for the fortieth time or so I kind of got bored, as bored as fishes and the dry nature of the Nitrox began to hurt my windpipe and all the internal organs making me very very uncomfortable. As humans, with a rather sharpened sense of comfort I decided to take out my mouth-piece and putting it back after a second.

Now that second seemed like an hour when I not only swallowed some sea water but panicked with not being able to put the mouth-piece back, not able to breathe, feeling water entering my lungs I kicked my legs hard, lets just say swimmers instinct and rose up to the surface in a fraction of the second. A second of hell I thought, but then there was more to follow! Reaching the surface I got ashore soon enough but felt mildly stupid about not being able to resume my dive putting the mouthpiece back, so I stayed on a bit in the shallow reef practicing again and again how to resume a dive putting the mouth-piece back. The panic had my heart beating super fast and my instructor asked me to get back to diving and not treat it as an end to my shining career in diving. He was very impressed how I lasted so well for the forty-five minutes making it to the twelve-meter depth so effortlessly for a first-timer. Do the full course he said, I’d be a pro! After getting out of the sea and spending the rest of the afternoon in the pool and then in bed, I literally saw stars when later I developed what they may call decompression sickness, I deduced this after my five-minute google research. But like they say, google is no doctor and soon I found my way to the medical clinic in the resort reporting exhaustion and not being able to take deep breaths. Honestly I never valued deep breathing much till I felt I could not take it then.

The medical centre run by Germans had the doctor immediately asking me to lie down for an IV transfusion, strapping an oxygen ventilator to my mouth and nose, checking my vitals constantly and within ten minutes diagnosing my with Barotrauma, a suspected tear in the lung and referring me to a hospital in Male. He even personally accompanied me with two medical assistants to a private transfer to Male island having an ambulance waiting for me at the Ferry terminal with paramedics alert. Transferred to the Emergency Room in the private hospital I was certain that I was going to die and was wondering why my life wasnt flashing in backwards like all those people who had a brush with death do. When my life didnt come flashing to me I figured that I was not going to die and wished that if I live I would be able to swim again, maybe dive again, boring yes but this time I was determined to do it right. After a quick X-Ray and drawing out blood from both my arteries (this one was horrid, poking straight to the bones) and veins, a diagnosis from a very kind doctor I was let go citing that my lungs had some level of trauma but nothing that they couldnt recover from themselves. After a prescription of antibiotics I was let go off. It felt strange to come in with paramedics in an ambulance on a stretcher and walk out of the hospital carrying my bag all in a matter of about three hours! At twelve in the night there was no taxi available and lots of people walked the streets in the capital so we had to walk all the way to the ferry terminal.

A ride back, I was extremely grateful to be okay, having not met the doctors suspicions, well, even the Germans are not always precise, I thought to myself that no matter what I need to learn to relax. I fished out a notepad in the bag and wrote in big bold letters, ‘RELAX’. A note to myself. Writing it in bold I hoped the message got to my brain and my brain remembers forever. The ocean breeze ran through my hair and flushed my cheeks as the speed boat made it to the jetty of our resort. Nothing really matters and no cares are worth much, in the end it all turns out fine. I walked back to the room marvelling the quiet peace of the resort and how different Male was at the very same time. Climbing into bed I was extremely glad to be able to breathe and breathe deeply that too. Many thanks to doctors who do not make a mountain of mole hills and let the body do its job. The next few days my brain fresh out with my message instructed the body to do just that. Its all in the mind after all. Playing in water, watching the sunsets, hearing the laughter, loading up on delicious fare that included a full-on teppanyaki performance what with a beating heart and all, hammocking away to my hearts content, finishing up two beach-reads in quick succession and also breathing in the balmy ocean air made the horrid medical tourism experience fade away gently.

Lolling and frolicking in the beach makes the world melt away. The nights under the stars are way better than under the sea, but then it’s our habitat so no heavy oxygen cylinders to carry. We all have a purpose, a passion, we do eventually find it and such scary experiences bring us closer to our passions as we only then realise bluntly how fragile life is. It a matter of a second in my case a split second, however beautiful our surrounds may be or may not be, what matters is us. How we breathe, how we live, what we think and what we do. For now am breathing in deep and saying a thank you to my lungs who are and have been doing their job in their habitat. A vacay in any form is meant to do just that, saying a world of grace to ourselves, to our mind and body, for however wide we travel and what beauty in the world we see, the only beauty that matters to us or we should be really bothered about is in ourselves.

In the future though I may just choose the deep blue sea again, if it means a few following days of the balmy beach air, better than the devil ofcourse!

Michelle Obama is an ordinary woman on an extraordinary journey she claims in her aptly titled book. An easy read, becoming is largely endearing bringing out empathy and smiles as the ex-FLOTUS herself takes us on a journey through her life. She is the quintessential woman, one we find everywhere in the world who prioritises on her husband and kids over everything else. Despite being from Princeton or Harvard, despite not approving of her husband’s choices or her life’s circumstances. Though as First Lady she has been put in a place of power and grace she reminds the reader as she must have been reminded constantly on the lightless of the crown she bore, one deride of all responsibility or choice. Gushing over her husband, she highlights time and again the winning qualities of the ex-POTUS. We didnt need to hear all of it as Obama wins on even the most stringents counts unless ofcourse you are a Republican or a terror. In Becoming as in life, the smaller things count, the quiet sacrifices, the following of ones heart, correcting one self, evolving into a better human being, keeping family close, keeping friends closer, speaking your truth, taking the mob with a pinch of salt and making true traditions which mean something to the self. Coming across as intelligent, Obama plays out her truth in calculated measured tones throwing snippets of the Queen, Mandela, Trump, Clinton and host of characters. From an outsiders perspective it seems like a few characters, for a First Lady a largely sheltered life.  Her causes felt rather flimsy and its a pity that First Ladies have always been curbed politically and literally from opening up their wings. However what Michelle Obama clears encourages one to celebrate is the ordinary life. She makes the very act of putting on peanut butter on toast for oneself seem ambitious. Reading the book made me treasure my ordinary life. Fame, fortune, power pales when it’s not absolute. And though we ignore the haters and those who block our progress it’s undeniable to state that no man is an island. With a pool of haters and naysayers even Obama, with all his talents and temperament could not do much. Atleast not as much as he did promise. Becoming comes across mostly as an apology for not delivering and as a sigh of relief to be rid of power and titles. A humbling read knowing well that sometimes even the hugest of talents and powerful titles mean nothing. The Obamas come across as a family that craves simplicity but are extremely endearing all the same. The insights that she provides on Barrack Obama are precious though, one would only wish for the carefreeness that a person could possess, a President of the most powerful country at that.

Here are my favourite snippets from the book. Out of context I know, but teeming with quite wisdom.

Failure is a feeling long before it becomes an actual result. Its vulnerability that breeds with self-doubt and then is escalated, often deliberately, by fear.

My mother maintained the sort of parental mindset that I now recognise as brilliant and nearly impossible to emulate – a kind of unflappable zen neutrality. My Mom was simply even-keeled. She wasn’t quick to judge, she wasn’t quick to meddle. Our decisions were on us. It was our life, not hers, and always would be.

I wasn’t going to let one person’s opinion dislodge everything I thought I knew about myself.

All of them have had doubters. Get over it and just live a little.

There are simply other ways of being.

Breezy in his manner, powerful in his mind, curiously hardwired for optimisim.

There’s something innately bolstering about a person who sees his opportunities as endless, who doesn’t waste time or energy questioning whether they will ever dry up.

He’s not someone who is easily rattled or thrown off-course by anything as abstract as doubt or hurt.

The more popular you become the more haters you acquire. Bullies were scared people hiding inside scary people. They lashed out because they felt over-whelmed. You avoided them if you could and stood upto them if you had to.

If there’s one thing I have learned in life, its the power of using your voice.

Ultimately though, like so many things, it was a matter of perception – how we decided to look at what was in front of us.

If you dont get out there and define yourself, youll be quickly and inaccurately defined by others.

“You see how neat I am now?” Barrack said to me one day as we sat at breakfast his eyes mirthful. “Have you looked in my closet?” I have, I said smiling back. :And you get no credit for any of it.”

I had trapped myself in my head.

If I’d learned anything, it was to relax and try to pace myself.

#yourroyalbookness

Named after a book, that literally is a tome of wisdom, books have always meant a lot to me. Reading one, writing one, writing in one, holding one, decorating one, drawing in one they have always been a part of my life. Belle of Beauty and the Beast has been my favorite disney princess, not because she was brave and had a heart of gold but basically because she had her nose stuck in a book and hence I deduced that she was brave and had a heart of gold. The people who read are the world’s best people I surmised and counted myself as one ;). Whether it was Born to Run that inspired and coached me to run my first 10K or The Art of Creative Watercolor that taught me the nuances of painting with watercolors or Pride and Prejudice that left me mighty prejudiced or very recently Becoming by Michelle Obama that elucidated with great alacrity the solution to an RBF (yes a resting bitch face), books have got me doing a great many things, planted ideas, provided therapy, improved my vocabulary, got me to be patient, saved many a rainy day, introduced me to fabulous adventures, made me ambitious, made me empathise, many a time sympathise, took me to various places and have literally been my favourite of all places to bury my nose into. And needless to say much to the chagrin to my ever sensible Dad I ended up being true to my name an open book!

So it isn’t a matter of great surprise that on this wonderful World Book Day I am launching without much fanfare but to a beat of drumroll my very dear ode to the fine art of reading. Your Royal Bookness, is everything to do with books. A book review, a published book, a poetry read, a story told, a world made, an idea sowed, a play envisaged, a web serie, a manuscript editing, a proof reading, a book exchange, a homage to Shakespeare, a gift of the gab, a gift of the tab, a debate brewing or a quaint book club. A humble beginning, an ambitious forthcoming.

Please do follow me on a myriad of social media, this blog ofcourse, and through word of mouth of chatterboxes.

There really is no difference between literature and architecture or an author and an architect. #justsaying

ah well.

p.s. I am after all utterly blue-blooded when it comes to books!

Flash them all as they say

let the pearlies save the day

bringing the clan in the fray

leaving not even one astray

 

the wisdom of all in the neigh

comes with time and the grey

not to touch upon all the play

and he options to clearly weigh

 

there are no blacks or white

so hold on stay back sit tight

take light dismiss all the fright

when you know you are right

 

happiness is a warm puppy

ask my son for hes a yuppy

it also is a snowy slope ski

or well simply a kempenski

 

what an atrocious year its been

where I have been drama queen

so much love and much to preen

and lots of shoulders to easy lean

 

a year of plentiful elemental sacrifices

of humbling tones and absent vices

a quickening dealing of all the crises

rolling at once very many dices

 

the fire that melts the raging steel

also causes many a once a kneel

bringing about a thousand feels

playing on loop the many reels

 

life is very much for the living

not to mention all the giving

a pinch or two of make-believing

cackling tackling and babbling

 

its a time when wisdom has come

and the lights shine very gleesome

there is no need to be lonesome

for the micro-ness turns handsome

 

the good old marvellous time returns

and the deep blue oceans churns

lots of action and blithe adventures

for the very daredevil creatures

 

as I ghastly frown upon the FOMO

I even turn down the trendy JOMO

its indeed the very time to go more

do more be more see more feel more

 

there is no joy in missing out

there is but joy in listing out

pouring making feeling out

giving taking connecting out

 

for the verb in human existence

makes the life a present tense

see it all through the golden lens

and then it begins to make sense

 

the verb is ahead of the adjective

although its all very subjective

the plaintive is only held captive

when he remains sordidly passive

 

to do is to live to be is to give

time tide side or simply a ride

in action there is never a snide

slow fast with or without a slide

 

as I wrap up another chapter

the year of massive character

of crazy blurs and some error

getting back to the protractor

 

looking up to another crossing

with a ton or two of blessing

and a step with a delight spring

asking whoever can to bring

 

good fortune love and kindness

and a lot of shimmery brightness

booming luscious boisterousness

for the radiant regal royal highness

 

giving up caking and making up

the fresh cream whipped dollop

embracing all the darling hiccup

the naturalness begins to develop

 

there is not much to life than mirth

save for later the ineluctable girth

wear now the fashionable shirt

for there is still so much earth

 

taking along the happiness advantage

there is so much fun with the vantage

mending the fence building the bridge

and appreciating the pumpkin carriage

 

for people do as persons does

at times sincere sometimes a fuss

but there is always a stable truss

when there is buzzing census

 

slow to anger hard to please

fast to anger lifes then a breeze

come easy go easy is the phrase

phases are then just a craze

 

love and laugh is the prescription

the dentist, surgeon or paediatrician

they never leave without a question

did you or not take some action

 

laugh out loud if you hate the gym

and banish all blues and the grim

for there is no more a iniquitous sin

than to never bear a mighty grin

 

happy is not happy unless shared

if you there is not one who cared

for there never is a loser who dared

not there is a winner who despaired

 

its a turning tango of the twos

making me want enormous shoes

biting off much more than can chew

is the recipe for making of a shrew

 

washing  the bum of a little chum

teaches patience love and some

entertaining with the drum

makes for a very sore thumb

 

watch the children as they grow

for in time youre all theyll know

and when they come in tow

youll know the reap in the sow

 

the wait is long and time plenty

for the maiden whos very dainty

the lesson is presented in the acne

a keen reprimand to never be angry

 

and then the lesson of abcs foray

always be cheerful as they say

the rules of the land they lay

in the twirls of the pretty ballet

 

keep swimmin swimmin swimmin

just do your job and be brimmin

get on top of things happily winging

eyeliner, marathon, life swinging

 

when friends are few mostly true

there is no reason to feel a blue

the gorgeous love and all the crew

at the sparkly brink of thirty-two!