when i walked into my home this evening, i was greeted by this very beautiful fragrance of glade’s enchanted garden which perfumes my home in a most glorious way…. i walked in with a handful of cat food as usual. i was thinking as i walked into the house that i’ve taken myself out of the context recently; like my family and poetry and stripped myself out of everything. stripping myself down to bare skin and coming to a new place in my life and i can actually say, i’ve started growing into a new skin, a new myself really; i keep taking selfies of myself and i can see my eyes are definitely tired, but excited and there’s a new glow in them… my shoulders are curled-in with exhaustion, but i’m arriving at a new place. i even started introducing myself to myself, laughing and there’s a new bounce in my steps and i keep humming and dancing while waiting at the printers and copiers and in front of elevators…

all i want to do these days is the opposite of everything that i have been doing. touching-and going. climbing mountains, breathless in the rain. i’m disappearing into the folds of my blankets as soon as i come home (well after i feed my kids of course) and sometimes i go for a drive through the woods.

i’ve started becoming restless again. restless feet and restless hands. and i keep exhaling and exhaling. march is difficult you know. i’m almost afraid to remember. it’s difficult and it’s still so close. i come here to write but raking through my memories which induce pain and panic attacks, and later spending hours incapacitated, face-down on my woolly rug touching the tiny ridges of the wool of it to make sure that i’m still here, that i have a body to remember to return to.

i feel brave and then suddenly i don’t feel brave at all. i want to call sandalwood and say “let’s go for a walk” and maybe we go for a walk, and treading beneath a canopy of blank branches and endless fallen leaves, and talking about the importance of the smell of dark-green to someone who will let me forget without asking too many questions.

all i want to do is sit in my room and smell the beautiful fragrance and listen to the rain coming from above. hear the rushing noise of the cars outside of my home, the pitter patter sounds of my kids’ feet on the hardwood…  my kids fill me up with warmth. there is no warmth in the memories of what has hurt, anywhere in this little space of mine. even the old letters that have been written to me are stuffed somewhere in a box. the whole of this week i kept ouching and my back still huts and i thought it’s because i pulled my back muscle while exercising but that coupled with lungs hurting as a result of flared up asthma made my life miserable.

i am trying to understand a lot of things about home-making. today i was chatting with a colleague of mine and i was telling her that i am not domestic at all. i am looking for a man who would make me a cup of coffee in the morning and do my laundry; like jace used to. she laughed and i told her that i’m a card carrying feminist. she later emailed me a few webinars from women.

recently i came very close to telling off american boy and that he can go fuck himself. i also would have drawn a diagram of the same. but i didn’t and i swallowed my anger and grew more patient. sandalwood laughed and made fun of me and asked me when i finally tell him off, i should record it on my iphone and that he would provide me the newest version possible.

he is looking to buy an apartment in downtown philly so we can split time between city and country and i’m looking to buy an investment property but not sure if i could afford but i must. but it’s sure is fun though to go and look for houses. he is good to me you know. he keeps me stable and this scares me. i’m a wild child and i’m used to getting hurt and i don’t want to hurt him.

yesterday i was completely pissed and furious, as i was hungry and went to café and that had no decent food and it just pushed all my buttons.. my cafeteria has increasingly became unfriendly towards vegetarians and i see the same stuff day in day out and man, if i have to describe myself as a cartoon, i would be having steam coming out of my reddened ears, eyes and nose, etc. and when i came back to my office, i wrote a very nasty feedback and so, when i went downstairs to get food this afternoon, there were more vegetarian dishes ! squeaky wheel and grease and all that good stuff !

oh here’s an annoying detail of my life. i had a big argument with tom from my work re. pull ups (chin-ups) v pull downs and boy, he just doesn’t seem to understand the difference. he kept telling me that it’s the same motion and i kept explaining the science and i even sent him an article. all this came about as i was bleating to him about my inability to do pull ups and how i would like to be able to do at least one respectable pull-up. i think he was just trying to annoy me.

and here’s a funny detail. today my boss was trying to mail an infant girl dress to someone and i was helping her and she is like, you can’t have that one as you won’t fully fit into it and so i told her, “sometimes you don’t want to fully get covered by anything” and i winked at her while giving her my most wicked and naughtiest smile you could imagine. she laughed so hard at that. she has this belief that i’m very nice and i don’t curse, and the worst curse to come out of my mouth would be shucks etc etc. and gosh if only she knew. to be fair i keep warning her about me that i’m not that nice or innocent and that i’m a total bitch; but she doesn’t believe me.

all my life has been fascinating to me. maybe i should explain, all this learning i do and learning how to live safely and comfortably in a space i designed for myself. i keep picturing open windows and doors in a house with wooden floors and somewhere set in a mountain and the curtains gently swinging with the breeze.

that’s what i want to achieve this summer. i have started a memorial garden you know, for jace… i want to build again this summer and put in a water fountain or may be a koi pond. i  want to plant all kinds of colorful plants with beautiful flowers and i want to romp on the grass with my cats or have a picnic in my front yard with sandalwood and i want to read a bunch of books while listening to the birds sing. looking forward to my june monsoons and july summers.

i want to make vegetable stew and homemade banana bread. last night i took down a piece of fabric i pinned into my wall. i’m planning to fill my house with vases of flowers sandalwood keeps bringing me and i made food. for two ! i took photos. a signifier of my home-making. of my ability to settle. i am not a runner, but i hid before. not anymore. all i want to do is stay, to stay and to have that be okay.

all i want is this smallness, the gentle, tender thing of chopping a potatos and peppers. and preparing something, something small and savory to eat with our hands afterwards. i fantasize about the warm lighting, about the cold rain falling outside, of someone i love looking at me and knowing that he loves me too.

i feel simple and fragile and very small. maybe my dreams have always been leading me to this. to a place that resembles home. safety. where i’m myself, first and foremost, before i’m a daughter, a sibling, a lover and a friend. i’ve got no money. only a mortgage on a good house, nestled in a good neighborhood. nobody knows what i went through to get here. mostly falling, crawling and terrified. hiding a lot. picking myself up, dusting and shaking off loose scales and i’m emerging tho. and in all this i must remember to thank god over and over again; and i think my cats and i (and may be sandalwood) can build happiness and a world with roses, rainbows and glitter… a lot of glitter and, i think my kitties and i are gonna be okay ! i really really think so.

me to you..

i listened to your guitar chords on the phone and i opened the windows, tracing familiar notes like a map straight to all the things i have been burying; deep down, way deep down, like what it means to fall for strangers and how i never seem to know when to hold or when to let go or kiss without consequence and i think our hearts are too big to contain all the things we feel and we haven’t experienced yet.

sometimes we just want someone to shake our bones and rattle our soul and travel the distance without anything but conversation that changes things, and life, because we are young and old and we are stupid but we always have a fire inside.

but some nights when you keep rambling into the phone about utter nonsense like the corn fields of idaho or missing the snowstorm which we just had and i am reminded how i’m in a place where it no longer holds the weight of importance, i wonder if all the chords from your guitar you keep mailing me via phone and are pouring out of my speakers are the same ones that cradle me and you when fearful whispers of our minds aren’t drawing us closer to the comfort of finding what we needed the most.

i want you to know that i’m small. i’m fragile. i’m afraid of things like frogs and fireworks. i don’t like to cut onions which make me cry or the way when summer comes to a close, it draws a curtain over fireflies. i like to drift into slumber listening to music, and i like the way the first day of winter, when i walk out how the cold air numbs me & takes my breath away.

i want you to know i’m impatient & i jump ahead quite frequently, my mind races faster than my mouth, but i cross my fingers, and press them on my chest and pressing in all my hope into something brilliant and burning. when i’m scared i close my eyes and ramble neverendingly.

i have this habit of kissing a bit hard and biting the lips of my lover and i listen to sad songs and clean my house sniffling and crying profusely. you already know my love for cats and other small animals, and that i save gummy bears and orphaned books, but i’m also brave enough to pet dogs which are as huge as half a camel and all that time i keep muttering to the dogs don’t bite me. i enjoy coffees & drake songs and rap and i’m never sure of anything really, but i do know that i’m finding myself completely and totally terrified of this, of you, and finding myself, in all honesty thinking of you, but it feels right and i think that is all that matters now…

for climbing rocks and long drives, and i remember feeling the sun on my skin and remember how good it feels to adventure into wilderness with you.

sans douche….


y’all,  i’m a showerless siren (that’s the subject of my email to sandalwood) & i didn’t shower since tuesday & i’m home frolicking with other noshower beings…

and look how gorgeous & free we all are…!

on friday, my power went & i stayed home with my kids in spite my friend jack insisted i go stay with him; but i didn’t ’cause my kitties are my family & i thought it’s only fair to go thru stuff as a family & so we bundled up & ground our teeth & ugh….

i did shower on sunday ’cause i had to go to work on monday, & thus j accommodated my showering needs on sunday & monday; monday my power did come, but my furnace’s pilot was off, & so still no heat & no hotwater but i had space heaters so it wasn’t that bad but well, no shower !

wednesday we had a snow storm, & i stayed home, and thursday i stayed home & i told my boss “i’m not coming in as no shower” & friday i’ll be taking off as my furnace tech is coming & so….

excited about finally showering (or not)…


shout out to god for protecting me & my kitties from really bad storm and to my kids who have been champions thru all this. since friday evening we have had no power and it was below 40f in our house (yes, we are cold & we have sniffles & we are bundled up & probably it’s warmer outside than our home) and we all piled up into our bed and i felt sorry  for myself and my kids but gathered a profound understanding and respect for nature. i had my house full of candles & it’s beautiful to look at and i had fireplace which did nothing to the cold. falling snow was positively breath taking but only if you have a warm place.

friday i was at work and tim and i were joking about the commute home as snow already started falling and sure enough in spite the fact that i left early and took train, i got home two hours later and majority of that i spent in waiting for the trains to move due to fallen trees and stuff. and also i am fucking thankful for my bmw x5 because that car is marvelous in snow…

sandalwood wanted to come back when he heard we have no power. he is traveling and is somewhere in idaho. his work (he is a vp of tech for a fortune 500 company) demands he travel. a lot.

i am thankful for his emails tho. he discusses what he is reading currently (condoleeza rice’s autobiography; apparently she gave it to him when he met her) and we are doing wall street journal cross words and i must say my understanding of american english has considerably improved as now a days i can fill in the cross word in pen !! what does that say about my intelligence ! i positively preened when i first did it and except for one i had them all filled in correctly.

i was at jack’s on sunday evening as i had to shower & do my laundry and he hurriedly invited his accountant who also goes to the same gym as apparently jon told j (jack) that he would give him a discount in fees if j invites me as well because jon has hots for me… i haven’t been to gym (where j & i workout) lately even tho it’s gonna change soon. so for j’s sake, i chatted with jon a bit but i don’t like jocks one bit; as far as i’m concern they are morons as they don’t read to save themselves and i hate people who don’t read as i like conversation and discussing things intelligently and philosophically and what do i do after sex with someone who doesn’t read ? i may have to take up smoking & i already got asthma. jon may be nice but he is into sports like playing hockey, he let that tidbit come into the conversation and i agree, i haven’t asked him about his reading habits but the way someone speaks with me is enough of an indicator. i expect people to understand me by the way i glance at them or say something without a whole preamble; i have this habit of starting a conversation with a particular person in my head and by the time i actually meet that person, my conversation is in full swing & i may just end up saying like ‘so we should do this’ or ‘we should have dinner’etc and i know, it’s really not right to expect a logical response to this from others, but well…. if you know me, you know what i’m talking about.

all the dark nights with nothing to do and i kept reflecting on piece of my life.

reflection pieces are very important to me and that’s all i do here… but i’ve spent so much time reflecting & i don’t want to do it anymore. i’m channel my eyes forward. no more lingering. no more dipping my toes back into old memory-pools. no more saying, ‘what about from this angle ?’ and then analyzing a situation until i’m down to nothing but dust and cob webs and dryer lint. 2017 was like sticking my hand into a lion’s mouth again and again and pretending that i wasn’t afraid. i did a lot of running. i know that now. but i also did a lot of growing up. also cried in a lot of beautiful places—which is such an annoying sentence.  change is never easy, and i did not—did not at all—allow myself a proper and healthy adjustment. distanced myself from world because i could not bear to see the ways; catastrophic anxieties and fears….

i’m going to work on tenderness this year. tenderness towards myself; tenderness towards my environment; tenderness towards the people who actually care for me. i will allow someone to take care of me and i will allow my grief to overwhelm me. so this year i’m going to be more tender. not let my fear of failure keep me from creating— from creating nourishing, tender pieces. from exploring different mediums. i will begin to trust my hands more—use them to make, for others. to cook, for others. i want to teach myself and allow others to teach me about myself, about themselves, of new ways to translate and understand the earth. there is so much inside of me that needs to be translated, transformed, transfigured. alchemized.

i’ve got to let go of control as well but not sure if i could. can’t control what’s already happened. can’t control loss or losing or grief or longing; i can, though. breathe. i can breathe. not consume and make another limb of my trauma. i can try to understand it and be a better, kinder person because of it. there is so much softness, so much gentle light in this world. in many ways, by the end of this year, i have become angry at that softness. at tenderness. at opening and vulnerability and anything becoming and flowing. i have lost my balance this year; some large ways because of others, in many everyday ways because of myself. but that is not who i am. this is not who i’m. i’m angry sometimes and bitter; but i’m also a child with an uneven heart. i’m trying, in this year, for more tenderness towards myself.

and the world is kind and cruel and full of poetry. i trust my heart enough to hold me & keep me warm.

things i’m afraid to admit…. 1

yes, i’m still attached to you and i look for you. and it brings me a passion and it feeds my addiction and a need for your approval.  there is a strong attachment but i remove you like bullets with my hands… pain carries souls and stories and hurt is one longest memory.

and it hurts, you know. because you were my favorite part of every day. i made you my sun and moon and every star in my hazy dreamy world. but it just doesn’t matter now. isn’t that bizarre ? you put your heart and soul into someone else’s hands and then it just ends and you have to take everything back. but you can’t take everything back. but you want to. but you don’t. and you can’t. that’s the worst part, you can’t. you make them the air that you breathe and then they’re gone and you have to keep breathing whatever toxicity is left behind, and it hurts. my lungs hurt. but no one is going to save me, and that’s the worst part too. you just want someone to take the hurt away for a minute, just a second, but they can’t. you have to keep living until the pain gets dull. you don’t want to because they were the best part of this life and now they aren’t here anymore and you can hardly bear it. but you have to keep living anyways. and it hurts.

but then your compassion doubles. and you learn that you give your love to those who have proven themselves worthy of it. someone who empathizes and like you, who looks at life through a dreamy set of rose colored glasses, and you lie under the bare sky and full moon (not today as it’s raining) and you both solve love related dilemmas with poise and style and all the way you giggle in a silly manner.

for the boy with the backpack, i told you today what you wanted to hear. for a person who craves directness, you weren’t direct or truthful. it’s a shame really as you won’t know heaven till you know me. all i wanted you to do is fight for me.

we both are bad actors and we are waiting for someone to ask the questions we skillfully avoid with passion and purpose.

and my darling, i take photographs, and i’ll make a handful of u-turns and that’s just what life is all about sometimes; taking chances on strangers and not worrying about getting lost along the way. there is always a way out, but that doesn’t mean i can’t make a graceful exit.