Category: Beginnings

On the journey to growing my own.

on By

Yesterday we finally picked the first of our zucchini, cucumber, tomatoes and these finger chillies. We have been harvesting a variety of veggies and fruits for a while now but the excitement and tingling that I feel every time I pick something off a plant is very much the same : surreal.

There is such a thrill and joy to this whole process of plucking fresh produce off a plant in your garden. But there is so much more to this whole journey that often culminates in your kitchen, palate and ultimately tummy or your neighbours’!

Last year, I started noticing a lot of interest in gardening in general. People I randomly stumbled upon online and our own neighbours had something going for them in their backyards and in their frontage. It was also when I started watching Monty Don on BBC, the nation’s gardener as he is sometimes fondly called. Little did I know then that becoming engaged with gardening meant an unavoidable rendezvous with Monty. As he weeds and crafts and creates his magical garden in Herefordshire, that seems to stretch endlessly, I saw myself mindlessly scrolling for more and more of other people’s journeys in their gardens. We had started thinking of moving homes but every house we viewed was viewed with a renewed interest and vigour and the promise it held for having a little patch someday. I wanted that joyous ride. That moment when I would wake up to sun-kissed tomatoes. That high from keeping the bees busy. The desire was always simmering but it threatened to no longer wait. So, while we waited to find our home, I sowed some potatoes out of desperation in a pot in our little backyard. Instead of appeasing me, it only fuelled me to do more and left me feeling a longing more than ever. 

As if on cue, everything in the universe conspired to give us the energy and space to pursue this desire that now had assumed dangerous levels of fantasy. And trust me, it has been every bit the joy ride that I had conjured in my mind. While I admit, I was initially more into this “grow your own” having watched those tempting videos of people picking a bunch of zucchinis, a basket of tomatoes and making cucumber salad with cucumbers from their greenhouse, this whole journey has taught me more. Much more than I imagined.

For starters, it has made me physically, mentally and emotionally more agile. As I started sowing seeds, my days would start with me rushing to the storage shed, radiators and possible warm spots in the house to look for any signs of germination. I caught myself walking in and around the garden mentally calculating the space, number of containers I needed, possible beds to create/ clear, reading and researching catch-crops and about rotation and soil pH, ways to get the pollinators, what crops paired well and what I should avoid and the like. What started off as a very calculated, prepared, conscious series of steps from textbook and videos evolved into being more attuned to what the seedlings and plants were telling me. The nervousness and trepidation started getting replaced by a sense of faith in my own ability to listen to our plant babies and confidence to address whatever it was that ailed them and to do all with a sense of surety that I felt the plants would feel reassured by. They were in the safe hands of parents who loved and learnt more about them. Ofcourse, I have had heartaches and trust me I had them early and felt them so much more back then as I watched a series of seedlings rise up and give up on me just when I started to feel happy. It is such an obvious truth that you will lose some seedlings along the way and yet going through this has been such a fundamental lesson in learning to let go or learning from them and moving on.

At a time when a lot of the world was worried about being cooped up at home, gardening and growing their own has offered a lot of respite and excitement and it has been refreshing watching people become attuned to nature and life around. There is a lot to be said about the joy of creating, nurturing and being on that parenting journey and my moments and experiences with my plants have reinforced all of it and somehow managed to make me marvel at the obvious. It is a wonder I hope to forever cherish, many zucchinis, tomatoes and cucumbers later.

I fear we will forget.

on By 2 Comments

Forgetting and carrying on is a double edged sword. There are times I know I need it like so many of you. But I fear it too – I don’t want to forget how these months and especially the last few weeks have made me feel. I have tried to find solace in everyday acts of living and sources of joy and gratitude but there have been days it got harder to bury myself in the mundane. I harbour a fear – a fear that we/I will forget.

There is such an influx of resources and personal narratives everywhere now. People are enraged and so many of us want to do something about it, anything at all, from where we stand. And yet, I fear we will forget.

Moving on and doing what we have to do is unavoidable of course. But there is a power in tragedy, loss, shame and rage that spurs a lot of us to instant reaction that only sometimes goes on to become a part of us. And time and instances in history have shown us that more often than not, we move on a tad too quickly. The learning does not register and especially not if we have been at the receiving end personally. We do sympathise, we are aware of what went wrong, and sometimes even have an idea of what could have been done better and yet, over time, we forget. The impact and trauma of a particularly difficult time fades away or stays as an unpleasant memory that surfaces once in a while only to disappear again.

Now that is indeed helpful if we are coping with loss but eventually need to march forward and make something of our lives. But this ability to forget or temporarily tuck away in the deep recesses of mind and move on, becomes dangerous when we let extremely detrimental practices and systems to carry on too and become evasive of our roles and how pro-active we need to be over time and not just reactive to calamity.

It is a great opportunity to educate ourselves now – there are a lot of resources and platforms coming to the fore and spreading their message. But we don’t need to be overwhelmed. Here is what am striving to do – to listen calmly, drawing parallels to my own experiences, identifying patterns and narrowing them down in ways that make sense to me for starters. We only need to make small changes – little changes to our actions and subsequently tweaks to our thought processes that have been comfortably etched in our minds. We each need to take one step forward and collectively, we’d have moved massively as a community. I have identified 3 things I want to do and act on. It somehow makes it more actionable, less overwhelming and makes me feel useful and proactive. Quite frankly, I could do with feeling a bit resourceful, right now. Alongside, I can continue to educate myself, tease out patterns and processes that are deeply ingrained. It is just making that start and sticking to it that will empower me to empower the community I am part of. I want to move beyond being reactive and stay consistently proactive, responsive and responsible.

Grand 2019

on By 2 Comments

Let’s face it – everyone seems really kicked about 2019. At least that is the impression I get from all the inspiration and happiness that seems to emanate from social media. And I mean this in a very very positive upbeat way – I love New Year. Who am I kidding – I love all the New Years and we have a fair share of them as Indians. So yes, I love festivity, new beginnings, the fervour that accompanies these beginnings and how it seems to make everyone look forward to a brighter time. I am a sucker of sweetness and mush.

With that out of the way and acknowledging that some why‘s can never be answered, let me tell you what I am most excited about 2019. I am excited because I want to make it grand. I want it to be fabulous and I will go out of my way to make that happen. Infact, we already made a beginning – because, as I sit here writing this, I see the most fiercely loving pair of eyes look at me beseechingly to get her off the sofa and onto my lap. While I have spent my fair share of nights we have spent our fair share of nights wondering if and why we deserve this unconditional love, I am not going to that territory again. I rather focus my energy on giving all of my love, even if it means falling short of what we are receiving, Because let us be honest, we are basking in the love and glory that Mili has brought with her and showers us with so generously. I cannot believe I denied myself of this happiness for this long and K had to talk me into just taking the plunge.

And that exactly, that is my plan for making it grand – taking the plunge. Not over-thinking it. Not do a pros-cons analysis. Because that is how it works – you make a decision and then everything works around it. Of course, this shifts things, moves your other ‘plans’ and all that, but it will still come together beautifully inspite of some challenges along the way.

So yes, that is my plan for 2019 – to make it grand. And that, sweet reader, is my wish for you.

  • That’s our love, Mili.

Taking the plunge.

on By 2 Comments

It has been almost a year since I “started” this blog. I find it funny that I am writing now considering how this has been on my mind for so long. I have been toying with the idea of what my first post on this blog would look like, sometimes looking at photos from my travels this year (there have been quite a few of those this year, I tell you) and making repeated mental notes to write about them. Or, like yesterday when I was rearranging my wardrobe and wanted to write about this saree. Yet, it has taken this long, why?

Sometimes I wait too long. To make that perfect beginning, to want keep this place a reflection of my best. Now, this is really funny because, I intend for this space to be an honest me. After all, it is my life and times. Yet, I crave for a fantastic start. Like, when I start writing in a fresh notebook. I cannot tell you the amount of effort I put in making sure that the first page is my best writing, my best work. Sometimes, it takes too long. And something snapped. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I want to just start – and let it flow, uninterrupted by my unnecessary obsession for a “great” start.

So.

We moved. Again. From Singapore to UK. Surrey.  I still travel to sunny Singapore, am still a graduate student. And well, Singapore will always be my home, wherever I am. I found a third home I guess. At least I am warming up to the idea of UK being home. Before the big move, we heard all kinds of jokes from friends in Singapore about the 5 days of summer that London has, on how we must enjoy the sun while it lasts yada yada. Even the electrician who came to fix some stuff in our UK home didn’t understand why we would move from Singapore to England. I wish I could thrust this weather at them and see what jokes they make now. It has been so hot and sunny for two months now, sans the humidity that Singapore has in abundance (that we do not miss at all). I am not a sunny person. I mean, I enjoy sunshine but it does not decide my mood. I dislike hot and humid. I love winters (okay this maybe coming soon, but for now, I love them). It has been okay so far. I do like sunlight until 9 PM, so we are enjoying it (while it lasts).

We have found a home, all our shipment is unpacked. It was pretty daunting to see how much two people who do not have a hobby of collecting anything, can accumulate. I am not looking at you, books. Tsundoku is my thing, it adds value to our lives. At least I have convinced K of it. Seriously, all the travel and moving has made me watch videos on small homes and minimalism. I have not shopped for 2 months now, or maybe, three. It is liberating. That’s fodder for another day.

The thing is this. You don’t need much else to be happy about, in Surrey. There are so many wonderful surprises you encounter on a random walk in our neighbourhood, like this.

IMG_3567IMG_3576

If random walks lead to a gorgeous sunset behind that veil of green climbers, I am all for you, Surrey. I cannot wait to see what you have in store for us and what we make of you and our time here.