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I started Saraswati poojo the year Chibu flunked Math. I cried thinking my son has inherited my defective Math genes.

My friend Mamtu's solution was to appease the lady in white, the one stop remedy for an upgraded report card. And my father was an active participant. So it became a ritual with the three of us. There are many stories to go with it. Once we selected a saraswati murti, got her face covered with paper, and then suddenly her palm moved like saying bye bye... The shopkeeper was aghast as we rolled with laughter.

And then we had our lucky Saraswati. Who stayed with us for 3 years, ensured Chibu passed math and engineering and got a job!

It all ended with Baba leaving in 2015.Our last 3 generation poojo.

At Mainak, I started the poojo since last year, as Chibu is back, and Bhaskar 's Dadi's saraswati needs a homage. And it's an occasion to dress traditionally on a working day.

And the lady remains an eternal favorite.

From fixing the math gene to playing the guitar.

She aces it with a zing.

Love for books, over lucre... My thing!

Comments

Being an eagle mum!

I always told this story to my trainees. About being the Eagle mum. An eagle mum prepares the nest in two layers, first downy feathers and below that,the thorns. When it is time to fly she removes the downy feathers so that the fledglings who refuse to fly fall on the thorns and that makes them flap n fly away! Bhaskar always calls is cruelty, the bojjat mommy! But to me its a way to push one out of the comfort zone, for the world waits beyond! My kiddos moved out to their own place today. And despite being an eagle mum, I kind of miss the chatter. I knew in my heart I would miss having them around... But they need to find their wings!

A holiday with self :)

A long overdue blog about the path that I was seeking , or did the path seek me out ? Over the years the sheen of belief was wearing off and I was beginning to question the master about the magic - about faith becoming commercial, about what Bhaskar stated, "This is all about money". Packing my bags off and going solo isn't very uncommon in my life, but this time I was not on work per se. Checking-in into the Ashram, was on my bucket-list for ever-since, and it was an amazing experience. Despite the crowd, the ambiance just reverberated with a mix of reverence, energy , faith, hope, prayer - and questions too ! Like I mentioned before meditation was not about spiritual pyrotechnics, but a metaphor connected to life. Like the corner I chose had a vantage view of the stage and despite a stench that started emanating from the corner, I just could not leave that place, for the view that corner offered got me stuck there. Life is like that, we are often stuck in the rut , ...

Sepia times

In recent times FB has come up with a new challenge that has everyone posting pictures in black and white- The B&W challenge had everyone using some app and changing the DP to that era. Cleaning my parents apartment, is always a voyage on a time machine for me - Strange how the people are gone and the objects remain- like that arm chair , once my grandmother's favorite then my father's ! I recently remodeled my grandparents double bed, more out of sentiment than anything else. And then, this was Victoria Memorial in an original two colored snap. Of course it is now a fad to Prisma or Photoshop or play with an app to bring back the sepia days. Among the many memorabilia , I discovered Dadu's MB certificates - Dadu was sauve, westernized and very social. The story goes that when he went to see my mother for the first time, he wanted fork and spoon saying that at home they used cutlery at the table, and my Didi actually had the table laid out accordingl...

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