Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Sacred Games

There's so much love for the Netflix adaptation of Vikram Chandra's Sacred Games right now. I watched a couple of episodes (that counts as work--staying abreast of the field--right?) and noticed that the subtitles are really off. Sometimes for no reason I can discern.



Monday, July 16, 2018

What do you recognize?

S posted this picture yesterday, and I loved the doggo. 
Then I realized I knew the backdrop to the picture

It was three kitchens ago,
and kinda my favorite kitchen 


Sunday, July 15, 2018

Not a Metaphor

I don't forget you
astral, austere

I search until time
is up
over, easy

My prayer speaks
as breath
salient, silent

Despite a small wheeze, I spent yesterday singling Thyagaraja kritis and slapping talams with tenuously connected new friends (book club to E; E to Tamil classes with S; S a student of R's mom; A a colleague of R; and so on). It was lovely--something I didn't even know I needed. And Nu told me in a silent moment that I sang beautifully.

Saturday, July 14, 2018

Babama and Baby NuNu

Recently, I did a meditation that asked me to remember the oldest person (Babama, my great grandmother) and the youngest person (Baby NuNu) I had loved. If they could have a conversation with each other, what would they learn? How would I introduce them? I was in tears then because they would never meet each other as Babama died before my babies were born.

But I was reminded that some things live on. Nu lost her screen privileges this week, and when I was telling Big A about why she had lost them, he reminded me of Babama's principle. Basically, if you enable people to cheat (by leaving valuables around, or being lax about people copying off you, etc.) you are responsible for the crime--not the unfortunates who are compelled by their circumstances to steal, copy, lie etc.

When I trace the timeline of this piece of advice through the generations and geographies it has traveled, it's basically a study of how love connects us.

Now for that difficult conversation with the 10-year-old.


Friday, July 13, 2018

The Uncurling

I had thought they were
telling a story about you
but then I catch my name
and know that now

this is a story about me.
It's just another story anyway. 
It seems there are only seven,
or eleven, or several hundred

with thin differences in place,
in time, detail, and mystery.
I grieved all the dead kittens
lying on the highway until 

you told me they were raccoons--
animals with no human family. Oh. 
So we recognize the incognizable--
is that even possible? I mean.


Thursday, July 12, 2018

two out of three

TFW you look at the three sympathy cards you got two weeks ago, and cannot remember whom the third one was supposed to be for. One was for M's mother, another for C's doggo, and the third?



Wednesday, July 11, 2018

Progress is Sexy

The defining measurement for this bicycle shed
came from the length of our tandem bike.
I can't wait for all our joint adventures.

As the writing deadlines loomed,
I did dream about this lot a lot
(After I cleaned teverything

In the time-honored
tradition of writers