#sareespeak #womenofsareespeak #cotton

#SS 19/2021 #89

Disclaimer. Rambles. Not to garner sympathy. No. Just that the last post opened a Pandora’s box for some of mum’s friends who knew dad.

Thank you so much for those who connected with my last post. Yes, we are all bouncing, dancing balls of energy, kinetic, static, and we aim to energise others, ourselves in positive ways.

Mum’s friend who read the post, sent a message to my sister, who forwarded it to me. I got in touch with her and she related more gems of memories.
In her message, she mentioned how my father, her father’s friend and lawyer, when he’d known his days were numbered, had recommended other lawyers. And he’d also told her father that his only sadness was in leaving his wife, and not being around to see his daughters grow.
When I read the message late that night, after so many years, I couldn’t shake off that overwhelming sense of grief.
Revisiting those days,
Reawakening the memories of a 39 year old young man, trying to get his family’s and others’ affairs in order.
What I never realised,
or thought about,
or probably never allowed myself to think about,
was his pain then.
My sisters and I have always wondered how it would be if he were around to see us and his grandchildren.
But to realise that those were his thoughts too, is heart rending.
As Shubhra Chaturvedi commented in my previous post, time does not really heal.
The tsunami of grief drowns us once in a while.
But we learn to adapt, adjust, and look forward.
We are also comforted in knowing that
Our lost loved ones and other guiding angels watch over us constantly.
And that
if we believe and
raise our energies to vibrate in those frequencies,
We Will Survive.
No, wrong word.
We Will Be Alright.

Draped in a soft pink and grey cotton embroidered 30 year old saree. The sleeves of the original grey embroidered blouse stops at the elbow, so have mismatched saree with a brighter pink flowered blouse (which the family does not approve of). Hair in a tight bun, so I do look like I have close cropped my hair.
Selected Pink,
for Comfort,
for Healing,
for the Heart.

#sareespeak #womenofsareespeak #cotton

#SS 18/2021

#88

Shivarathri.
Forty plus years ago, on this night, Dad had surgery and was diagnosed with stomach cancer. He left us a year later.
On this day, my maternal grandmother left us.
And so did our office caretaker, who called me during the middle of the night, and the call got cut off. Rushed to the office with my husband to see him collapsed on the floor.
Death.
Inevitable.
At that time, the heart aches, so badly, that one wonders if it’ll ever be right again.
Surprisingly Time heals.
And the mind is a funny thing, resilient and quite self centred. It wants to remain untouched, unblemished.
And so it erases the bad
And reinforces the good.
So one only remembers good times.

On a day such as this,
I remember, a hint of that sadness, helplessness,
But it’s fleeting.
And is replaced by a wave of great memories.

But a day such as this is also for
Being,
Still,
And Becoming.

Destroying the old.
Creating. Recreating anew.
Akin to Shiva’s Cosmic Dance.

I am reminded of an article I’d read in the Reader’s Digest, a hungry child, devouring any book, magazine, I could get my hands on then.

An article on Fritjof Capra’s epiphany that caused him to write The Tao of Physics.
“In the Summer of 1969…one late afternoon, I was sitting by the ocean (in California)…when I suddenly became aware of my whole environment as being engaged in a gigantic cosmic dance. As a physicist, I knew that the sand, rocks, water, and air around me were made of vibrating molecules and atoms, and that these consisted of particles that interacted with one another by creating and destroying other particles…but until that moment I had only experienced it through diagrams and mathematical theories…I “saw” the atoms of the elements and those of my body participating in this cosmic dance of energy. I felt its rhythm and I “heard” its sound; and at that moment I knew that this was the Dance of Shiva”.

Shivarathri.
A day when we engage in charging ourselves, our energy fields, so that we too participate in the Cosmic Dance of Energy, the Dance of Shiva.

Draped an orange cotton saree with a black and gold border and pallu. And with the usual unmatched brown, gold, orange checked cotton blouse.
Gifted by my aunt, 25 years ago, an aunt with a radiant personality, more about her another day.
For a class.
Practising krithis.
To energise myself, and my surroundings..

#sareespeak #womenofsareespeak #rawsilk #silk #veldari

#SS 17/2021

#87

#internationalwomensday

International Women’s Day.
The Eve.
Had an extremely enjoyable chat with the ever gracious gorgeous hostess/interviewer Deepika Gundanna.
Was taken aback and so touched when she reached out to me.
Ironed technical glitches during the week.
Designed a lovely poster and twinned with me.
And all because she wanted to showcase a fellow sakhi.
Selfless act.
I was excited the night before, then became downright nail biting nervous.
Managed to spill the water in my tumbler.
And then, when she began, and I joined in,
It was so effortless. She made me feel so much at ease.
Felt like I’d known her for ages.
And she let me waffle on and on and on.

A huge thank you to you
dear Deepika,
dear Vini,
dear moderators, admins, and
Of course,
To all the lovely Sakhis who took the time to be part of the chat.
With their encouraging comments.
Immensely grateful.
Tried to answer each and everyone and got blocked for a few hours. Facebook must have thought I was a potential spammer. Promise to reply to each and everyone of you.

Also sharing an old post in lieu of International Women’s Day. Photo collage in comments, of me emulating feisty Disney Princesses.
“To celebrate Women, Us, in our many Roles, Avatars.
Not just the career women, the policy makers, the professionals, the academics, the CEOs,
But
The makers and growers of these women,
The Grandma who regaled me with stories of her many childbirths. I know, not really a bedtime story you’d tell a granddaughter, but my family does have a twisted sense of child rearing as you may have gleaned from my previous posts. About how she’d wake up grandad only after she’d got the clean towels ready, water boiled, and he’d grumble, then ride off to get the midwife.
The Mum who told me how her father had torn up her teacher’s training college acceptance letter as ‘girls needn’t be so highly educated’. The same mum who lost her husband to cancer at 35, and raised three strong successful young women.
The Aunt who recounted the tale of her getting on board a plane to the UK, the first in her family to do so, to complete her nursing degree in the late 60s.
The Sister who is a consultant, pathologist, academic professor, who still comes home to take her children for classes, cleans the bathrooms, folds and irons clothes, takes care of her mother and mother in law.
The Teacher who tirelessly explained the intricacies of integration by trigonometric substitution.
The Music Guru who patiently changed all the strings on the veena two nights before a performance.
The Dance Guru who sewed costume hems, ironed dance saree pleats and force fed bhadam kheer.
This institution of Wonder Women should be saluted,
The ones who emanated strength with their words, actions, as they oiled and braided plaits, woke their daughters at 4am to study, with hot cups of milo, cooked wholesome healthy meals and stayed awake as their daughters burnt the midnight oil during exams,
This day is
For Them,
For Us too and
For the Daughters of our future.
We cannot exist without each other, we are too invested in each other and inextricably entwined, intertwined.

Happy International Women’s day to
Each and Everyone of you,
And to the Women in your lives who have touched you in any minute way”.

Sharing one photo of me getting ready for the live chat.

Draped a Red and Green Raw Pattu/silk, Veldari/checked podavai/saree. Red gold checked body, green pallu and blouse. The yarn has 3 silks and 1 gold cotton thread, braided and then yarned. 4 braids form a patch which is the reason raw silk sarees are thicker than normal silk. This 3 silk and cotton combo, adds the Shine to the Saree.

#sareespeak #womenofsareespeak

#SS 16/2021

#86

#organzasaree

#organza #themeofthemonth #loveisintheair

Sigh.
Got out of lockdown only to
Get into Yet another lockdown.
Cancellation of plans.
Uni starts tomorrow for the Mr and D2.
D1 will still go to work but
the rest of us will work/study from home.
Am now resigned to a routine we are all familiar with.
By we, I mean We the world over.
Was quite demotivated to write anything, except my food blogs, if one could call it a blog.
Then this morning after a strong Nespresso Kazar, hanging the washing out to dry, feeding the birds, grinding the dosa ma,
Browsed through SS.
Came across Kavita Lohiya Bajpai ‘s post. She looked lovely in her blue applique work saree, but more than that, her writings struck home.
The current world climate has taken a toll on its inhabitants.
And us women.
Yes, as she rightly mentions,
Overnight,
A paid holiday,
We became Masterchefs, took long walks, handled Zoom meetings, remote training, consulting with aplomb, played Articulate, Balderdash, Rummikub, Monopoly, watched 5 seasons of trending shows, devoured books, read and unread..
And that, we thought, kept us sane and happy,
Yet being the ‘strong’ unofficial heads of households,
No, not the Heads,
But the floor slabs, the beams, the very Foundations of households,
We get trodden on,
Not in a bad mean way,
But walked on, walked over.
How many of us dared to internalize our thoughts and feelings?
How many of us spoke up, spoke out?
We threw ourselves into more of what kept the others sane,
We wiped tears, cracked a joke or two, sometimes while our hearts were breaking, watching loved ones weep over cancelled engagements, functions,
Hearing of passings on, and being unable to touch, speak, for the last time,
Squinting at screens to view miniatures of birthdays, weddings, funerals..
No, not good enough,
Not good at all.
We must take time to let it out, to chat, to scream, to have a meltdown if need be,
Or to just sit, reflect, meditate.
My strategies are these.
No. 1.
I pass the grief on.
Not a selfish act.
Not at all.
I merely offload my pain onto all and sundry (in lockdown, those at home),
They listen, take it in their stride, and try to be empathetic, caring,
I feel good the moment it’s off my chest.
No 2.
I cook.
Nothing gourmet.
Nothing fancy.
I cook from a place of no expectations,
a place therefore of growing calm, peace. I potter around in the kitchen, washing up, wiping tops, floor as I go along.
I may decide on two dishes, then decide to do one more or no more.
Then I take photos, post them, blog.
Clog, more like it – Cooking log, clogging friends’ newsfeeds.
And oh-feel-so-much-better!
No. 3.
I listen to/play music. Vibrating strings, strumming, pressing down on frets, gliding, and the heart soars. I sing mentally, aloud, doesn’t matter, but it is an acupressure, meditation of sorts. My happiness kick.
No. 4, 5 and what-not..
I read,
I write.
I watch Netflix, Prime, Youtube, Disney+.
I call a friend.
I send memes, dancing old lady, frowning, laughing baby gifs over WhatsApp, Messenger.

And I saree. Is that a Verb?
Saree Speak has “Verb-ed” that.
And provided a safe, non judgmental forum for Verbalizing the unsaid.

Draped a bright red organza saree with gold, red, green leaf like buttis on body and pallu. Gifted by a dear friend quite a few years ago.
Red for February’s Love theme.
A Light saree to promote lightness of being.
In these times, ladies, what else can you do?
But go within, look outwards too,
For
Love and Light.
Stay blessed, safe, sane.
Stay light.
Stay loved.

#sareespeak #womenofsareespeak

#SS 15/2021

#85

#silk #kanjivaram #kanjivaramsilk #vairaoosi

Vasanth Panchami.
Basant Panchami.
Saraswathi Puja.
Heralds Spring.
NZ Autumn.
Lockdown.
Simple puja.
Working from home.
Conducted remote training sessions.
My offerings to The Embodiment of Knowledge, Wisdom, Learning.
After work,
More offerings to The Divine Artforms.
On the Veena.
Draped a golden handloom silk, a Vaira Oosi (literally translated, Diamond Needle) kanjivaram, with thin needle-like zari lines running parallel all along the warp portion of the body of the Kanchipuram Saree. With lime green and gold borders and pallu.
The photos don’t do credit to the incredible gold hues of this treasured saree, I’m afraid. A case of not apt phone, lighting, dare I say photographer? No, model maybe.
Treasured saree,
Gifted by my dear Guru when I was with her in India for intensive lessons, 7+ years ago.
Wear it whenever I can, easy drape, feel my Guru is with me.

#sareespeak #womenofsareespeak

#SS 14/2021

#84

#cotton

Have been meaning to post.
But it gets too late.
And I fight a losing battle with my phone keyboard.
Type, doze off, wake up, erase gibberish on screen,
better still,
Type, doze off, wake up, post erased, finger on backspace key.
No undo button, icon on the phone.
The iPad takes media-socialising to the next level.
Type, doze off, ouch, rudely, painfully awakened by the iPad falling on my face,
Persevere, gibberish, erase, doze off, iPad falls, bruised nose or lip.
Cycle continues.
Today, it’s been a long day.
But as we’ve been in lockdown level 3, we’ve been working from home.
So after a day of staring at the laptop, office phone, talking with blank video screens, a hospital appointment, a long long walk, dinner, hot bath,
Managed to get into bed relatively early, before midnight.
Back to work, as in, at the office, tomorrow as our PM has brought levels down to 2 in Auckland.
Watched and listened intently as she provided an update on Covid 19 and lockdown situation.
She looked tired and tense. What an immense burden she shoulders for NZ.
And here I was, worrying travel, cancellations, refunds, gatherings, weddings, birthdays..
First world problems.
A steaming cup of masala tea and a long walk at the reserve, helped put things into perspective.
Draped a bright lime green cotton saree with gold, red, black borders and pallu.
A horrible mismatch with a khadi cotton rust, black, cream blouse.
Used two photographers today.
No prizes for guessing who took the yellow room photo.
And the other one conceded to capture me from wherever she had seated herself, all the while, grumbling about the blouse, my graying hair, and bath bun.
Daughters, you love them until they decide to mother you.
D1 just walked in and asked me if I

1. was oiling my hair
2. wanted to go bald
3. was going to see my doctor soon.
   Told her to take a break and resume the nagging/concern in the morning.
   D2,..thank goodness, D2, is in Hibernation in Yellow Room, watching The Office.
   Good night, saree Sakhis. Have managed to get this post up without dozing off.
   Probably because
   husband is into his device,
   with earphones in his ears,
   But unplugged..

#sareespeak #womenofsareespeak

#SS 13/2021

#83

#cottonsilk

#loveisintheair

#themeofthemonth

Saree posting time.
Dont know what to write.
Soo sleepy and it’s only 5.30pm.
And it’s Valentine’s Day.
Did what any normal, self respecting human would do on Valentine’s Day.
Rose early.
Weirdly early.
Being a Sunday.
Watched birds flit, flutter, tweet, swoop down for rice, bread in a new bird bath turned bird feeder. (A fountain water feature is their chosen bird bath. Amazing to watch them perched on the tip of the feature, like humans dangling toes, then chirp and fly when the fountain is turned on, and descend again to the water surface).
Some chore hacks before a 10am class.
Finished past 2.30pm after putting away instruments, folding mats, rugs, setting the place in order.
A late late lunch.
Unable to doze off.
So spent Valentine’s arvo watching Michael McIntyre’s comedies while the Older Half snoozed in the bedroom.
My eyes are half shut. My upper body has slid down to the tip of this 3 seater sofa. My legs are all the way to the other sofa some kms? Sorry meters? in front of me.
My mind says Get off your unmentionables and prep a Happy Meal. Had suggested to the girls that we’d watch a Romantic Chick Flick together and gorge on some decadently parmesanly, parmesinly, cheesy pasta and maybe, as a healthy alternative, a red rice fried puttu. What a combo, a true food mismatch made in heaven.
D1 had classes all day, too exhausted to go out with her not so happy fiance, who has since decided he would game with friends in the same sorry situation. D2 was out swim training groups of children, all morning and for most of the afternoon. Husband is happiest when teaching, be it, music, mridhangam or Accounting/Finance, His Valentine’s Day fix would be a cocktail of online concerts, music practice, topped with youtube comedies. And a good meal.
Sorry to burst your bubbles but that is my dysfunctional family’s Valentine’s Day.
So as I write this,
D1 is asleep, I believe.
D2 has since returned, and gone straight into the shower,
H is explaining thalam intricacies with a sparkle in his eye, a smile on his lips,
If that’s not Love, what is?
And I,
I will do what I love.
Bird watch. Yes, I meant, of the feather, winged variety, as they swoop down to pick on bread and grains.
Write. My Saree and Food Posts. My short stories.
Chat. With my sister.
Read. Half read books.
Cook some decent soul food for this weird family I’d love to hate, and hate to love.
Listen to music. Hum, sing, off tune, in tune, with wrong lyrics in languages I don’t know,
Then settle down with all of them, girls first, then husband (will tie him to armchair) and watch something sufficiently Valentiney.
Yesterday. Draped a beautiful soft as silk, soft as cotton, cotton-silk purple checked saree, with darker purple and gold borders and pallu. Borders, pallu have annapakshis/swans, mangoes, my other Love. With a checked dark purple checked blouse with magenta borders. When visiting a dear friend who’d just got home from the hospital. Took the only dish I thought would brighten her spirits, my berries and cream dessert. Loved the smile on her face. An early Valentine’s for me.
Better be off now, pasta’s boiling. Recipe says it needs to be al dente.
Back again, feel loved. Girls loved the pasta. Did not mention the behind the scenes butter and parmesan that will lodge in their non existent behinds.
Husband came out for a break.
Cheerful banter until Daughter 1 informed us that Auckland is going into lockdown level 3 as of 11.59pm today for the next 3 days.
Happy Valentine’s Day All.
Let every day,
every moment,
when you do something you love,
or just feel love,
or give love
or be loved,
let that be your Valentine’s Moment.
Love you my saree draping friends.

#sareespeak #womenofsareespeak

#SS 12/202 #82

#cotton #cottonsilk

#themeofthemonth

#february

Draped this simple orange tiny checked light cotton silk saree with green and gold borders and pallu. Posting 2 identical photos, one lighter than the other, to showcase the saree. Utterly mismatched with a pink flower, green leaf embroidered black cotton blouse. Thrown in an old photo for good measure. For my class a few days ago. Asked D2 to take a candid shot while I was in the midst of class, which she didn’t, so got this random click done, after threatening to not make her favourite dessert.
Unsure of exact Saree type, but when I was presented this Saree in December 1993, I was told this is a “special saree, a Pune saree”.
Gifted to me by a friend’s mother on the occasion of my
Seemantham/Valaikappu/Baby Shower
And
Arangetram.
I had been planning to do a postgraduate degree soon after marriage. Then found out I was expecting D1. Had always wanted to do my Veena Arangetram, so decided to work on that. Discussed with husband and Guru. Used to rise at 4am, fight back the nausea, sip on lime juice, practise in the early hours, go to work, go for class, and practise, listen to music, music, music, and practise.
On completion of my 7th month, 20th December 1993, I had my Seemantham/Valaikappu/Baby Shower in the morning,
And
The Arangetram in the evening.
My husband accompanied me on the Mridhangam, my Guru’s sister on the Ghatam, and a famed artiste on the Morsingh.
That was Kindergarten.
So much more to learn.
As D1 grew, I too have learnt, have grown so much since then.
Incidentally, spoke to my Guru today (Devastating news about a dear musician/friend who passed on yesterday due to Covid).
My Guru introduced me to her Guru, who is now my Guru.
Once a Guru, always a Guru.
No such thing as ex-Guru, current Guru, old Guru, new Guru.
No.
All are Gurus I am immensely grateful and indebted to, for having taken me as their own, and for selflessly passing on this divine artform.
After the call, reminisced about my first veena class as a child, then subsequent classes when my Guru became my back house neighbour.
I have been blessed to have been able to just walk into her house anytime for a class. More of that story, for another time.
Will try and look for my valaikappu, arangetram pics and share them soon.
Blessed day, Blessed month everyone, #loveisintheair, Sing, Dance, Paint, Write, Cook, Shop,
Do whatever makes you love or feel loved,
Do whatever makes you feel alive..

#sareespeak #womenofsareespeak

#SS 11/2021 #81

#cotton #khadi

A post of Celebration.
Not marketing.
To highlight Saree Sakhis.
Two extremely talented authors.
Purchased their writing.
One, a paperback book.
The other, an e-book.
Apologised to both as I am in the midst of reading both books.
I start, get engrossed, chores, work, class, music, resume.
Cycle continues.
But am loving their writings.
Draped a saree to click reading shots.
Lay down on TV room sofa, but D2’s photos showcased a beached whale with tiny phone and book in hand.
Resorted to sitting on window wooden chair.
Photo one has me deeply engrossed in Leena Saldanha Joshi ‘s “The Diwali Party”. A book about women like us. Who may have let themselves go, weight, relationships, friendships, taking each other for granted.
Photo two is of me enthralled with Jaseena Backer ‘s short stories, “Tales that Entail” once again about women, compromised, unfairly, wrongly treated, who have risen like Phoenixes from the ashes.
Will review both once fully read with another saree click.
Photos feature book covers, no content.
And one of me, no books.
Love both books, and their creators.
Dear Admins, my intention here is not to publicise anyone here, but
To Celebrate, Acknowledge the
Amazing Accomplishments
of my dear fellow saree draping friends.
Am in a comfy home wear khadi cotton green saree, with red, gold, black borders and pallu. With an embroidered red cotton blouse.
Perfect for reading, or
Posing to read.

#sareespeak #womenofsareespeak

#SS 10/2021

#80

#silk #kanjivaram #kanjivaramsilk

A light, rambling post.
Generally dislike all aspects of house cleaning except for the finished product, an immaculate, spotless house.
A general note though.
Hasn’t happened.
Probably not going to happen due to Long Weekend.
Everyone has plans.
Husband at work.
Girls out with various groups of friends after a hectic week of rehearsals and online concerts.
Yours truly too, had and has no intention of being home alone.
Am socialising.
Anyway, there is one chore I find quite rejuvenating. Well, then it’s not a chore, is it?
I seem to like hanging newly washed clothes out to dry. (Hope D1 D2 don’t read this..)
Stepping out into my mini Zen back garden, as named by dear Shubha Nafrey, I feel at peace.
Cloudless bright blue skies.
Sound of the water feature.
Rustle of the palm leaves.
Contrast of the yellow green leaves against the blue, azure blue?, sky.
And the pink flowers of the creepers against the brown wooden fence.
Senses heightened.
Love stretching clothes, pinning them just right. The citrus scent of the washing powder wafts out as the sun and wind collaborate to dry them.
Make mental calculations as to what would fit on line and what would have to go on metal dryer.
Socks and other unmentionables on circular hanging clothes dryer.
Done.
Step back, take in my work of art.
Life IS good.
Times like these help alleviate the not so easy times, help answer some unanswerable questions, help calm the restless mind and wildly fluttering heart.
A few days ago, draped a yellow kanjivaram, gifted by husband 25+ years ago, when in Chennai. The golden body has mustardy thin stripes, and gold, mustard, yellow borders and pallu. Used to wear saree with its own blouse. Now, adventurous me has mis-mismatched it (two minuses make a plus, simple math), with a brown cotton blouse with orange lined checks, orange gold borders on sleeves.
For a temple visit. Met some beautiful souls there, partook of Bhajan and Bhojan.