The heavens opened up at last and the first drops of rain fell on the parched earth and cooled the boiling air....And with the falling raindrops I have found my words back...each word, a drop falling into this blog, my ocean of feelings and innermost thoughts.
The last week has been hectic yet deeply fulfilling. Her student visa is to be collected on Monday and the visa officer who scrutinised her documents surprised her by saying he knew me....strange..I didnt not know him, but on investigation found he had stamped my visa to Japan, around 12 years ago....
My daughter was quite impressed and I very embarassed when my colleagues ribbed me of having a recall value which spanned 12 years!! The diplomatic mission where I work has become a second home to my daughters. They drop in and out of it and that is their comfort zone. And not to forgot the gorgeous hot chocolate they get from the instant coffee machine.
Last week was of intense dreams, very symbolic. I had met my school best friend Ruby after 25 years, as we had left our school and gone to different cities after Class X. She is now based in the US and had come to town for her parents' golden jubilee celebrations. So much had happened in these years but we bonded and unloaded our lives to each other. She was always the practical one between the two of us...I the more dreamy and perceptive. She counselled me and asked me not to distract myself after illusions but to focus on real things that touch my everyday life. Will I take her advice? I shall not be me if I stop dreaming. And I have not neglected my everyday routine. Maybe I did not make myself completely clear?
After I met her and the day my daughter's visa interview went off successfully, I dreamt that I was in the US in my friend's house and we were cooking. She had asked me to prepare 'gaajar ka halwa' a sumptuous North Indian sweet dish, a must after winter dinners. And while I was making it, grated carrots, sugar, milk et al, I suddenly found myself adding vanilla, flour, cream and whisking it to a fine dough! She asked me what the hell was I doing and I told her the halwa had turned into a carrot cake dough!!
I then put it into the oven and baked it and it turned out to be a fine carrot cake! On waking I tried to analyse the dream, and felt the only explanation would be that while I had brought up my daughter as an Indian kid, she is now poised for Americanisation. How much more symbolic can a dream get?
So sweetheart, tell me your dreams....
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