inkhorn

**This post first appeared on Indiaanya ** Have you ever been asked this question, “Did you have a love marriage or an arranged marriage?” When I was asked this the first time, it stumped me for a bit because I couldn't classify my marriage under either! When I was twenty-four my parents and I moved to Chennai. This was the first time I had lived in the land of my origins. Having spoken only English and Hindi all my life, hearing Tamil all around me was a bit of a shocker. To add to all the confusion, since I was at the “ideal marriageable age” my parents started getting questioned by relatives and friends, “So when are you getting your daughter married?” or “Twenty-four? That's old. You should do something soon otherwise she won't find anyone,” or “What criteria are you looking for? Nadar?” That was when I realised that being from a particular community and caste meant a lot, even to Christians. The most provoking question, though, had to be, “How much gold are you ...

So here I am, at another Blogathon. This one is turning out to be more of a discipline than I’d bargained for - learning to be still in the midst of chaos and putting pen to paper. As difficult as it seems today, I believe it needs to be done. Thanks FD for understanding, and those kind thoughts of comfort. My grandfather, went home to Jesus last week. He was 99 years old. There are so many thoughts flying through my mind right now as I try to straighten out and put down my feelings. Even though I knew this day would come, it still doesn’t lessen the pain and shock or prepare you in any way. I still feel sad. I still wish he were here. I still miss him. There are so many things I remember about him. Thatha , as we lovingly called him, was a force to be reckoned with. A brilliant sportsman, he had a whole trunk full of trophies and medals, garnered over years of competing and winning. But I admire him more for never boasting of his laurels. He had more to boast about than...

Dear B, As sisters go, we’re probably a unique pair. Such opposites, yet we get along so well. (As you probably realised by now, yes, I miss you!) I came across the poem that I wrote for you before I left home. And it brought back so many memories of you. I love so many things about you. Your buoyant enthusiasm and the tendency to jump into every enterprise, feet first! (How many times have I had to be the voice of sanity, if not reason!) Your unflagging loyalty and your penchant for flying to the defence of the three most closest to your heart, then (am adding L to the ranks now!). You have this amazing gift of reaching out to people and giving so much of yourself without expecting anything in return. I love the generosity of spirit and heart that sets you apart from all the rest. You feel things so deeply, yet you have a childlike joy and delight in the silliest of things! Your optimism surrounds you like a cloud (remember the stained glass painting of the butterflies and bubble...

It was a lovely day – a mere 24 hours, but a lifetime of memories – stolen out of our everyday routine. A day of laughter, of enjoying each other’s company, of finding joy in that most mundane of things – grocery shopping! Of watching an old movie together and chuckling at Cary Grant’s antics; of talking philosophy and apologetics and re-experiencing, with delight, the pleasure of finding someone on the same wavelength; of catching each other’s eyes across the room and sharing that silent smile; of seeing our prayers answered as we spent time together with our Father; of lying in each other’s arms, content and at rest. It’s days like these that give us the strength to meet the rest.