Discoveries

Walk-and-talks with At and Nu (frequently up and down our driveway) are full of insights, jokes, and discoveries, but I guess we didn't expect actual physical discoveries like this mossy rock just off the path.  Was it always here? How did we not see it?

Here on the magic rock, is my little woodland Nu dappled in sunlight and lost in thought (they're very into plague doctor philosophy and aesthetics right now).

Another discovery: the story "Amma" by Sindya Bhanoo in Granta, not just set in my hometown of Chennai, but IN MY SCHOOL! OMG.

Mid-August Notes

It's India's Independence Day and today's dinner is supposed to be reminiscent of the flag (maybe you have to squint a little bit?). I'm not a fan of the ethnostate India is under Modi, and I miss-miss-miss old-style India-day "unity in diversity" celebrations.

It was Fall term prep all day over here. Also, locking down meetings next week in my calendar helped--instead of holding hazy, all-day items in my head, I now have specific times and that's doing wonders for my general sense of preparedness and well being. 

I kept getting adorable texts all morning from bestie KB and mock called her out for procrastinating via text message. Then I went off on a tangent myself and did some editor-stuff for the current issue of Jaggery (needed to be done, but not right now). At least it got done?  I did a ton of other more normal procrastination as well, putting stuff in various online shopping carts and re-watching a few eps of Veep.

Tick-Tock

Outside at the picnic table (it's sad the playset it came with stayed behind two whole houses ago) my parents gave us when Nu was a toddler. 

The weather is perfect and the days are golden, and... At goes back to college in exactly one week.

In preparation for the goodbye, I binged Watchmen with At, which meant I had to watch a recap of the Alan Moore graphic novel and have At telling me every hour or so that Alan Moore is an anarchist and pointing out anarcho-stylistic elements I missed. I have no doubt that in two weeks I'll be thinking of this fondly as "good times." 😝

Love looks like...

I had to take Big A to the hospital today, and it freaked me out, so I'm posting something from a draft earlier this week.

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It is Big A's great basement reshuffle of 2020 (part 65 or something like that) and the raggedy ghouls who used to go up on the driveway in the days of Halloween parties past have neatly been hung up. 

I mentioned yesterday that I found their faces very creepy when I'm down there, and today I found that happier decorations--hearts and pumpkins, easter eggs and orbs--have completely blocked off the scary stuff.  😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 

Snare

I can start pushing the sticks and stones away from my bones

when I pull the sorries out of you another after an other 

like a magician's set of knotty scarves

Hey! There's so much time, there's time till the end of time

Let's hope you get there still improvising your innocence

fucker, the deadline went yesterday

Anthropo(s)cene

At and I found this bird's nest by the bike shed on our walk-and-talk on Monday. It seems quite late anthropocene in style, with bubble wrap woven into its construction! 

Actually, we've had a bit too much nature in the house. Last night we found a bat in our bedroom and then later--(another? the same?) one in the library. We couldn't find them this morning, though. I even doused rooms in mint essential oils and played high-frequency recordings, to no avail. Then as I woke from a nap this evening, I noticed a bat roosting about five feet away from me between two beams. We opened the front door and encouraged it to leave, and it did after endlessly stupid loops all around the living room and kitchen.

Maya

It was in Chennai that grandmother first died, many years ago
so it's surprising she is here today, her words pleating
back and forth with mine

Wanting ghee-fried bakery bread topped with three sugars
Walking slow slow as though ready to change 
her destination at any time

Then lullabies are on the radio; she sings to her five babies 

(and the infant son who came and went

so quick after my mother).

In her lap, my toddler mother had tried to console her, said: 

"Don’t cry mama, or see--all your face powder  

will wash away

and oh, everyone will know your skin is as black as Kali's."

A hand on the cheek is tender, yet cousin to a slap,

darkened heads fold into armpits like birds.

Skies blur red as if we break open every night--they're lost 

in other stories, arguments--I'll listen for a while, 

before I can open my eyes.