Showing posts with label rasoi diaries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rasoi diaries. Show all posts
moonless nights
moonless nights
many moonless nights have passed
since i last let my fingers
leak thoughts on blank pages.
my words have been mute; lingering inside,
quietly carrying the gravity of my days.
sometimes i rain
others, remain gray and heavy.
small memories of autumn
small memories of autumn
we’re swaddled in a soft morning.
a friendly breeze is blowing outside,
greeting everyone and everything in its wake.
the pigeons in the opposite balcony
seem contend just being there, flying nowhere.
saanjh is playing with her rainbow blocks.
and all i want to do is lay by her side
and do nothing but be.
watching these clouds sojourn the sky
and absorb their music into my veins.
but, life summons me elsewhere.
.
when autumn peeks from the window of rainless days
we make little picnics in our balcony
of curd rice, books and sunshine
sprinkled with slivers of radiant nothingness.
.
evening’s come.
yet again bringing its lingering poetry,
starsong and breeze fragrant with faraway rain.
inside, saanjh and her papa are drenching each other
with their wildness, music and love.
i stand outside in the fading light
taking in the magic of this ordinary day,
one last time.
.
it's a moody hazy morning
the sun’s bright and crisp over the hills
still, everything is cloaked in mist.
yesterday, rain came unheralded
but the late afternoon sun greeted it with kisses,
making each drop shimmer as it fell.
the world outside seems whimsical and saying.
i wonder what feelings are stirring in there.
janamashtami
janamashtami
don't forget love
it will bring all the madness you need
to unfurl yourself across the universe.
mirabai
.
happy janamashtami
lime, jasmine and tulsi blossom tea
lime, jasmine and tulsi blossom tea
the wind is wild outside.
inside, it's flying our curtains high as it can
and scattering dry grass from the amber bottle on the cupboard,
making them float all over the house as i try to gather them back.
a smile sprouts on my lips.
saanjh is taking her midday nap
i brew a little afternoon soirée with lime, jasmine and tulsi blossoms
and sit with the wind.
these moments of quiet solitude bring yin into my days.
inviting me to move around my mind’s meadow
smelling wild thoughts and harvesting ripe ones.
.
after long, the wind is still home.
and that smile on my face lingers a while longer.
. . .
friday evening
the seventeenth
jyeṣṭha
a prayer. a hope
a prayer . a hope
last night, after saanjh went to bed
and what felt like an endless day of blankness
i sat with myself, after long, in our balcony
as the spring breeze of vaiśākha caressed my weary spirit
my mind resumed to take note of little things around me again.
the sprinkling of fine-dust all over our floor, carried from the windswept hills outside
the glimmer of fluttering fairylights on window frames
the dulcet sound of our swaying ghongroo curtains
the soft waltzing of fallen bougainvillea flowers and pigeon feathers
and a midnight sky full of meditating stars
the night kindly became a prayer
and prāṇa slowly returned into my breath
.
this morning, the prayer turned into hope
saanjh seems to be healing back to her sweet self
. . .
wednesday, evening
the fourth
vaiśākha
ordinary magic-lore
ordinary magic-lore
over the weekend, we were all unwell
especially our little one, tender with high fever
requesting her papa and i to narrate stories all day.
so we took turns and told stories, mostly self-composed,
in-between cleaning, cooking, resting
and eating mulberries, reminiscent of our wild childhood.
now, saanjh is off into a healing sleep beside me
and the clouds are dreaming in the sky.
as i sit down to write, i realize
i'm always retelling the same narrative
of days made of birdchant, starsongs and the nomadic wind
of gathered foliage and fragrant seasons
of silences and our uneventful everydays.
of a life that’s made of ordinary magic-lore
like the ageless unfolding of sunrises and sunsets
their recital lingers in me
and i'm content to be living this life
sometimes preserving their notes, here
and other times letting them remain unsung in my heart.
it's a beautiful place to be.
. . .
monday, mid morning
the seventeenth
vaiśākha
crescent moon rajgira laddus
this afternoon while saanjh napped, i stood in the kitchen stirring rajgira (amaranth flour) in a kadai. as the sweet smell of homemade ghee and cardamom wafted across the house, my eyes wandered into the distance, where a herd of cows were grazing on unruly foliage by the side of the road. sunlight shone proudly on everything and the wind moved sedately between laundry airing over terraces. being alone with my thoughts and listening to the afternoon raga playing outside my window while i shaped these laddus in my palm felt like my happy place. making with my hands is always therapeutic, and wonderfully so when i'm making for my loved ones.
. . .
RAJGIRA LADDUS
ingredients
ingredients
200gms rajgira flour
3 tbsp ghee
1 tsp cardamom powder
powdered sugar, to your preference
a handful of coarsely ground almonds
a pinch of saffron and sunthi (dry ginger) powder
making
3 tbsp ghee
1 tsp cardamom powder
powdered sugar, to your preference
a handful of coarsely ground almonds
a pinch of saffron and sunthi (dry ginger) powder
making
heat ghee in a kadai and fry all the ingredients except sugar, on low-medium flame for 10-15 minutes. remove from heat and let it cool to the touch. mix in the powdered sugar and shape into laddus. relish with love.
. . .
saturday, nightfall
the thirteenth
māgha
. . .
saturday, nightfall
the thirteenth
māgha
makar sankranthi
makar sankranthi
the hindu festival of celebrating the sun
of waking up at sunrise
and being outside under the blue open skies
of flying kites
and welcoming the sun’s gold
into our skin and spirit
. . .
friday morning
the fifteenth
pauṣa
Sweet smell of devotion
sweet smell of devotion
making mithai
lighting mandir lamp in the evenings
and invoking the goddess in me
celebrating
strength
creativity
and wisdom
happy navratri and dusshera
. . .
wednesday nightfall
the twenty first
āśvina