An original story by Rumi 

For some time now, Rumi has been stringing sentences together and trying to make up stories. It is the most entertaining thing in the world to listen to her stories and I marvel at the vast sky of her imagination as well as her ability to switch between languages. In this little story, she talks…

Raising a “creative” child

For 25 out of the (almost) 30 years of my life I held some very fixed notions about creativity. To me, creative people looked a certain way: crinkly cotton skirts, scarves or stoles, lots of silver jewellery, kajal and a jhola bag. The older ‘Creatives’ wore beautiful saris and blouses and sometimes, these big, pretty…

Wait for the morning

At about three years of age, Rumi has started to acquire a sense of propriety and possession. She likes things to be just “so” – she, for instance, hates it when I wear “Baba’s” T-shirt or Baba’s slippers. She almost cries in frustration, “Pan te baba cha ahe, tu ka ghetla?” (It belongs to Baba,…

Of Fabric Fables

In my last few posts I have been hinting at doing some new, fun, work. I generally hate being cryptic and coy about secrets (if you want it to be a secret, why allude to it if you really don’t want to tell?) but the superstition bug had bitten me (Don’t tell too soon, lest…

Two steps forward, one step back

My laptop stopped working last month. It is possibly beyond repair, though the husband is trying his best to get it fixed. I am quite heartbroken; it was my very first laptop, my very first joint-present from my then-boyfriend and parents and it served me well. No laptop meant no blogging, and I was heartbroken…