#debsaristories #desipana #reuse #madrastalkies Day starts with Google YouTube autoplay old telugu movie classic songs, followed by impromptu madras thali lunch (with filter kaapi) with team, followed by more Tamil songs in car autoplay, ... what next? Out comes my old nalli kanchi cotton, my faux malli poo jasmine string, jhumki set, bottu...the only thing which I always know doesnt suit me well.. but I dared today.. my kajal.. kann maiy. I don't feel bad to fail in this group! I look at the doe eyed, kajal lined eyelids of friends and try.. and I end up looking funny. I do have a good laugh at it though, that's about it. Ye, this isn't for me!🤣🤣 I recently committed the crime of holding it tight, squeezing it between the door hinges tight until it was no more. Suffocation! It's the fate of the leftover toothpaste tube I am talking about. What were you thinking of? I was talking to a non desi colleague about our cultural habits and concepts of reuse.. we dont like to waste the waste even! We always find purpose to reuse until a point where nothing is left. Karma, Destiny all intertwined. Deb Saab wanted to top his icecream with raisins and when he spotted the jar (wow!) He opened to find red chillies in it. Ye, he should know better! Bahar so jo jaisa dikhta hai.. zaroori nahi andar se bhi wohi ho! U know what I (deeply) mean? Once few years ago another friend of mine saw a jar on the counter and told me.. "refrigerate it.. it will spoil otherwise ". I was confused and asked "do you refrigerate ghee?" Her reply "the label reads ginger garlic paste... ?!!" And of course ghee and gi ger garlic paste look alike. We laughed. Aqsar jo dikhtha hai woh hotha nahi hai aur jo hotha hai woh dikhta nahi hai. My kitchen has many such adla badli jars. I feel so proud that I can tell the contents even if the container labels something else. Its the "pehchaan kaun" game. Although often times it leads to non stop sneezing because I try to smell dhania powder or garam masala just to make sure! What fun! Similar is our concept for relationships. Once committed, No exchange, No warranty, No refund and of course absolutely no loan! In some other cultures there is this concept of try before you commit, know what you are getting into etc but for us the whole village their ancestors decide the fate and destiny! Both concepts work actually, which leads me to believe.. if you believe whether something will work or won't, you are always right. Welcoming the weekend thus.. my chai is ready.. gotta go!

#debsaristories #sareenotsorry #desividesi I am immensely overflowing with happiness today. My colleague at work Ms. N chose to retire and today was her last day at work with us. I had always been telling her she would look gorgeous in saree (I know everyone does). So I chose to gift her a saree for her Retirement party today. It's a kantha stitch on tussar I picked for myself last year when I visited Kolkata. Her happiness is evident. Just so she isn't alone, a few of us (Ms. D, Ms. C, Ms.M) chose to drape (my) sarees too to give her company! My team is such a sport and they all jumped at the idea. I carried three more sarees (and my strip of big colorful bindis) so they could drape on their jeans and tee, crop top, blouse , whatever! Arent they all looking gorgeous? I was sharing with them my passion for sarees, they urged me to think about taking it to a professional level.. and bingo they all got excited and volunteered to model for me if that ever happens! None of them are Indian origin, but they were so proudly carrying the drape and spoke how they could manage all day in it, and they would wear it everyday, everywhere! It's one thing to show off your own pride, but its incomparable happiness when someone else speaks highly and proudly of what's yours. Like someone praising our kids instead of us singing their praises..the feeling is amazing! More pics in comments. They are pro models at it! Gosh, hard to match their energy!

#debsaristories "Happy birthday Siri (my sis)" I say. "Thanks same to you ka!" She says. 💖
We are twins born five years apart is what we joke all the time.
It is so much fun to share birthday with your sibling.

 Busy day at work, so tried best to step out earely than usual to drape this simple taant teamed with cotton halter ng neck blouse I picked up from Kolkata last year. Perfect for the amazing 95F weather outside. I was waiting for this weather so I can bring the cottons out!
 While amma and Siri made the customary gulab jamun, I enjoyed that virtually while I am waiting to cut the cake (supposedly organic, zero calorie healthiest cake of the era) Debsaab baked for me before leaving to work.


 When you have a lot to say, you remain silent. I am thankful for everything life gave and did not. No regrets, no asks. Life's good. Oh btw my life will I officially begin next year per the popular saying! Cant wait.

#debsaristories #vineyardsmeet #california

What a day! I ended up hosting an event for saree enthusiasts, an entire group of positive people who are all sportive and motivating, and a wonderful team that stood together to make it memorable. I am actually at loss of words and just have a swollen heart of memories, laughter, thankfulness, sarees, laughter and the huge family of saree lovers.

Growing up as a kid, I never thought that one doesn't need bling, sari, jewelry to look confident in a saree, going by what I saw around me. In traditional south Indian homes all our important occasions revolve around kanjivaram. Pattu pavada (lehenga), pattu cheera, pattu podava.. it's all about it. The little less popular ones being dharmavaram, arni etc..and mysore silk a distant cousin. Ikat and uppada were unheard of commonly then.. basically if its not pattu then either it isnt an important occasion or it isn't a saree at all. Forward to my first meeting with ma - she had flawless skin and gorgeous hair. But what caught my attention was that she wore a pastel cotton dhakai jamdani and zero jewelry and I couldn't take my eyes off her at all. I was trying to keenly look what was it that made her the showstopper even in a crowd dressed without zari and jewelry. She wasnt ma to me then so I could not ask much, but over the years I discovered and hear her saying a million times, it's your heart, your thoughts, your inner beauty and your self confidence. That's what makes you attractive not physical features, expensive clothes or jewelry. My dream drape organza teamed with brocade blouse perfect for the occasion and the venue, an ode to the queens like ma and my other inspiration Maharani Gayatri Devi!

#debsaristories Vikari nama samvatsara Ugadi subhakanshalu. Happy gudi padua. The day when neem blossoms, raw mango, jaggery, tamarind, chilli pepper and salt come together in harmony to remind the flavors of life. I was always big fan of ugadi pachadi. It's like a preview of the upcoming year! My tongue tasted bitter sweet today so that's my year to come!?

 Google reminded me of memories 8 years ago. Visit to Marina beach was inevitable all through my childhood. As the humid summer sets in, we all would look forward to the biggest outing of the year (nope not Europe, not cruises or Alps) the visit to Marina beach by 9 kids and 4 moms. It was necessary to be back home for when dads return from work so our battalion used to leave at 02:00pm, taking the direct bus to Gandhi Square. The excitement as the bus approaches the destination cant be expressed in words. The fact that one cant see anything except blue sky and blue waters and the slush of waves would make us want to jump off of running bus. The afternoon beach sand would still be hot to walk barefoot, but who cares, this was our annual outing after all. We would get one hour to play in water. And we wouldn't turn back to yelling moms if it were beyond an hour. We would instead hold hands and walk deeper into the waves knowing moms would not want to mess sarees and drag us out. Finally when we reluctantly get out after that salty bath, the sun dries us in mins (remember it's still only 04:00 pm ish). Each of us had the opportunity to use our 50 paise to buy mangoes with chili and salt or a popcorn bag. I loved both but allowance unpermitting would pick popcorn to munch the entire trip back home. That part was painful, the fact that the next visit would be a year later. But hey, summer has other plans for us too. Like picking the tiny mangoes that fell off the trees (vadu manga), watermelon, no homework, report card in a postcard (public display of performance). The postman would even go through the results before asking for bakshish. He knew about the neighborhood kids' aptitude better than fancy Tutoring institutes. The morning breeze, dad with newspaper, mom with filter coffee getting ready for her avakaya session or vadiyalu project, the me that used to to sketch and paint on the terrace, sister tugging along with much excitement for the amazing summer holiday ahead .. .. made me drape this mangalagiri cotton sari today.

 It was mango pulihara, radish sambar (with a pinch of sugar), papad, ugadi pachadi (mine includes patali gur) mishti for lunch today. The telugu bong tadka.

#debsaristories #ninetieskids #personalcomputers Remember to remember rocks and springs! These are two powerful tools for life balance. When life pulls you down to the bottom of the ocean and gives you pain, remember to "spring up" so you don't settle down and fret forever, instead spring up to the surface! When life pushes you up to the sky and gives you success and happiness, remember to stay grounded like a "rock", and not get carried away. Just a word of caution - please dont mix match the above. "Springing up" during happiness leads to pride, "Staying rock bottom" during pain and testing times leads to depression!

I was collecting unused printouts to be reused for notes and other stuff. And zoomed back in time to the nineties. The time when the superpower only next to God visited earth. It was called the personal computer. I remember the first time our suburb school had established a "computer room" which was treated more sacred than a temple. We removed shoes, tiptoed quietly into the only air conditioned room in the entire school campus besides the chairman's office. Fingers trembled as we pressed any key on the dull creamish keyboard. The black screen was scary too. With much care and extreme caution after many stares and warnings from the sophisticated-of-all computer teachers at school, we would successfully get a circle or square on the screen. The amount of "programming" was overwhelming and the results almost gave us noble prize feeling. Who cares the black socks stink as we sit there in that 'temple' without shoes, working on the invention of our century and the newly entered being into our lives. Those who could afford to have a home computer automatically upgraded themselves into the wealthy elite category. The air conditioned room in their home was maintained with utmost care and hygiene so as to not infect the most precious possession with "virus". Yup we took it literal then. The bright clear monitors with spectacular resolution without flicker was nothing less than magic to us. After all our balck and white television sets (close comparison but distant cousin) had grains all over, needed an antenna (and someone to yell from terrace) to adjust picture quality and most often would blank out with buzzing noise. This marvel creature called computer did not! As for me, I completed my computer engineering without owning a computer. Like there is no mysore in mysore bonda right? 🤗🤗 chalta hai. Jugaad pe duniya qayam hai.

Very soon banks were "computerised" The print out paper from banks would sometimes end up home for our rough work, when dad would bring them. The dot matrix printer had typed something we could not comprehend but the neatly hole punched margins were amusing to me. Little did I know then, this day would come where those devices in several quantities would become part of lives, storing our memories as photos, storing our knowledge in folders and drives, storing our lives in emails and cloud .... like how one day in future I could imagine a robot making me masala tea and also sitting with me to sip as I narrate these stories to it (him/her? Unisex?)

For now its chai time for me and my chai buddy - baba (father in law).
I humbly chose this drape that ma picked during her last visit to Puri.

#debsaristories #womenofsareespeak #lifeisexperiences One is just a sum total of one's life's experiences. Dont you think?
Do you notice how some people assume way too much about themselves over others? I wonder why.. I mean if you zoom out from space, this individual is just a speck of dust. Life here, gone tomorrow!
But while around, the air around ego is huge than a mountain. And that leads me to think through that somewhere in the journey of life, the head starts behaving heavier than the heart.
Life starts beating in a womb around five weeks of its first creation. The heart knows its job and does it well. It beats till death and tries to keep us warm moist and human. It teaches us to feel. It reminds us in every beat that the unbeaten are gone. What then remains is the "body"
I try and remind myself to stay true to the order of creation. Heart first. Use brain to help the heart. Use it for wisdom, use it for others.

Switching topics! Did you have to deal with ex? Nope not just the broken courtship relationships.. ex-friends I mean? People who were once close to you but not anymore. And the worst thing is you still know how to interpret what they say (or they dont say) and sometimes you know they dont even mean what they say! But you dont care to care anymore. Hmm. Life!

To everyone that wishes me, I keep telling I am so very un-holi! I love colors and that's evident in my drapes, but that doesnt equate to me smearing color powder on my or anyone's face! See? Jo dikhta hai woh hotha nahi hai aur jo hotha hai woh aqsar dikhtha nahi hai. However I definitely wanted some gulal so chose to drape this gulabi pale pink organza and stood close to blooms.

#debsaristories #themiddleclass India's destiny wasn't and isn't just being written in air conditioned well furnished boardrooms. It's actually written in the kitchen of middle class home by the simple unassuming cotton sari clad woman who created world class designers like Sabyasachi, the shikakai, rita washed wet hair wrapped in gamcha towel creating the best hair dressers of the world, the kajal lined eyes that not just created but delivered vision of India, from the tea selling prime minister to the nuclear scientist president Indian economy isn't always decided in the parliament and assembly. It starts as humble savings in masala dabbas (my pocket money back then would smell like methi :) ), under the old yet memorable smelling newspaper lined shelves in squeaky handled Godrej almirahs (the 1,2,5,10,20..notes smelling of naphthaleneballs), in the knots of saree pallus, and the "aate ke gola" were the first cricket balls for great batsman. That's India, that's the India that made me who I am and many of you I guess.That's the woman that created me and my husband and millions like us. Whether or not they went to corporate offices, their practical thinking and implementable strategies could far beat the best theoretical analysis from universities. That's the woman that would secretly help my "pocket money " wished when the newspaper reading dad STRICTLY refuses to give some. The special pocket money that is smeared with sometimes turmeric, oil, ghee or masala. Pure love and pure visionary.

Thats the woman we all know as mom, mother in law, sister, aunt, grandma, friebd, neighbour. That's the India that created the gems that we gifted to the world, the Pichais, the Nooyis, the Modis, the Kalams, the Chawlas... and the list is endless. That's me today. Summers are orgasmic. It gives me the high that no drug could substitute. The warm breeze invokes the best childhood memories tucked in the deepest pockets of my heart. My madras and the telugu girl effect fully awake today! The white venkatagiri is perfect with my temple jewelry jhumki, the lakme kajal pencil, the red shilpa bindi, the gamcha for my wet hair. All I missed are my glass bangles, will get them in my next trip to India. And this is my humble salute to the quintessential 'aam' indian woman

#debsaristories #irepeatsarees

 I have heard a story that mahouts tie baby elephants to a tree or post so they dont run away. Growing up even though the elephant is more powerful than the rope, it doesn't run away assuming the rope is stronger.. childhood memory and influence that runs deep in mind.
I tried wearing glasses to complete the look. Oh no! You should all thank me for not posting that disaster here! I looked scary as hell.

So back to the baby elephant story, I was a dark skinny pimpled teen with huge glasses. Forget crush and smiles, boys would stop by and compliment "soda buddi" alias "chashmish" 🤓🤓. That continued into college and by then I hated the chashma-on-me. So much so that even after I switched to contact lens I would not take them off at all. I didn't want to wear sun glasses either, it took me a while to gain any basic level of self esteem!

Each of us have something tied to us like the baby elephant and the rope. We limit ourselves and don't try to break free. Things might have changed. Each of us grow every moment .. I think we need to try to break our ropes once in a while.. perhaps.... The bright pink bandhani cheered me up. No back pose today, blouse was too revealing for social media post I felt 🤭🤭

#holyweaves

#debsaristories #mysareetwin "Hey, how's it going?" "Good!!" The mechanical pleasantries! Standard greeting, some dont even wait for your reply, they move on. And I stand there wondering as I fill my glass of water (half and half, hot and cold) .. do you really tell people the truth when they ask the question, most likely not Like I dint tell them,
.  Tired! I feel exhausted already and it's not even 09:00 am
. Annoyed! I felt the meeting previous day was crap where bunch people talked and nobody did anything productive
. Worried! I was worried how my kid would do his history and science test
. Frustrated! Oh shit , its gorgeous outside and here I am in jean and tee, whereas I should be in saree amidst spring bloom
. Nervous! Duh, the eastbay saree meet is coming up soon and I have few more EventBrite tickets to send
  Smile! My colleague had brought lunch the previous day because I lost track of time amidst meetings and work, blissful
. Happy! Ma's bday coming soon and saree ready for her (and me 😝!)
.

So yeah, the short answer to that question was "Good"  I dint have an orange silk, so draped orange linen instead!!
#roopkatha

#debsaristories #lovewomanhood Mein aa gayi! (Gosh , I sound like Nobita from Doraemon!) Birds of same feather flock together! ❤and hence we are here. Period. This is my kinda twitter! 🤣🤣 Happy every day girls! I wanted to thank you today more specially for "watching my back". Literally 😘😘

I get mixed feelings about women's day. Every time someone at work stopped by to wish, happy women's day, I said. Everyday! I think it's on us to celebrate or crib about womanhood. I think womanhood isnt just about men respecting and acknowledging our merits and worth, I think it's equally for women to respect their our kiln. I have seen that by force or by nature men seem to be getting there but women still need the nudge. What they ask for themselves they dont always give to their kind. So today I reminded myself to ensure I stand by and more importantly support and enable my kind in any and all ways.

 Thank God for sending all the feminine Angel's in my life. I am what I am thanks to all of them. I loved myself today and added one more pic on top of the two usual! Self pampering is important part of women's day celebration you see. My fav of all the women's day watsapp forwards is this: Did you know.? History of Women's Day: Initially Women's Day was planned on 6th March... Women took 2 days to get ready. That's how it got postponed to 8th March!!! 😜 Men's Day was also planned... But as usual, they forgot the date!!! 😜

#byloom

#debsaristories "Wow, she is hot" is a common thought that crosses many men's minds. Nothing wrong in it. But I often wonder what is the definition of 'hot'? Do they see the large heart behind the small breasts? Do they see the deep mind behind short hair or is it just the physical appearance and sizes that matter? Largely and sadly, it's just the appearance that attracts! After all, someone drool worthy is anyday taken over someone intelligent, how much ever the world may "progress". Sab bolnewali baat hai 🙄🙄

These were the thoughts crossing my mind, as I watched the green pastures around and how beautifully nature had made this world look for us. At times, it feels as though time stands still on those hills and the only race around is of the humans, like puppets in a show. Its worthy being a blade of grass on those pastures and be the fodder to cattle that give us milk, than being unworthy in a world of inhuman expectations of human beings. Ah! I should try to do good karma to get lucky next birth, this one's a miss already! ye!

#debsaristories #irepeatsarees Ever wondered? Nothing is more scripted than life! Not even the bestest TV's soaps. How far you walk with someone, for how long and where - much as you assume is in your control, is predetermined.

 If you look back, you would always note that certain events, people and places converge for a particular decision making event that might have changed your life - for good or bad. In many cases, we may not have expected or planned for it. It feels weird and spooky later. The doors that closed, the doors we walked through were predetermined and just that 'we' did not have the visibility! I wonder what would have happened if I had walked the other door?

What if I had chosen to become a dentist instead of computer engineer? What if I had chosen to go for the off campus offer with HAL instead of the one from IT company? What if I had chosen to.... what if? We can never go back to play that game! And while knowing some of this, we still make all efforts to plan, try, execute as we wish. And funny enough - we even claim personal credit for such events! Yea right? 🙄🙄

I am craving summer, I couldn't smile very well for pics today. It's my dream to one day to go back home, to pluck jasmine buds at dusk, to sit on the porch, to string them, and get my fingers fragrant and of course chat with neighbors in a crisp starched cotton saree loosely settled on my shoulders and to pat my sweat with my pallu and complain about the heat! I wish. In a mangalagiri with kantha stitch blouse. Not dressed for winter weather, I dressed up to recall summer memories.

#debsaristories Ok, we agreed men are wired while women are woven. I think sweaters are to men, what sarees are to women.

The red sweater story tells me so. The sweater was knitted by baba's (Fil) mom fifty years ago. Like many of her time she was great at it and luckily I have few such sweaters and couple of stoles. My favorite is this red sweater. The candid pic of ma baba from thirty or so years ago was stuck in my mind. I knew I needed my version of it. So the red sweater project kicked off.

Gosh! Its impossible to make good remakes. Original is original. I have no clue how movie makers even attempt it. The decent equivalent of the red sweatar memory took us 157 takes (believe me) mostly because I couldn't cross my elbows gracefully like ma and more so my pupils moving to corner of eyes made me look like zombie. So my pics were more Halloween types and not at all graceful. The man in red sweater quit the project several times, leaving the bettu RofL (literally) on my attempts to improve my pose. Phew! But I am not one to give up. If it meant bribing the man in red sweatar to biryani, desserts or butter chicken or late night drive or loud crazy music or getting more HDMI cables for his crap projects, I was ready to do any and all.

I told shontu I kept the red sweater so he and my betti could do this project when it's their turn. The agyakari bacha said yes for now. He kind of figured out early in life to say yes to women (ma and thamma) to avoid arguments. Smart boy, learning quick.

#debsaristories
Wanted to share with you some common photography rulez.

1. You need to turn the camera on and hand it over exactly like you want it held
2. If you want to be in picture, it's your responsibility to position accordingly
3. If you want portrait pic, you come closer
4. If you want long shot, you move farther
5. If you want special effects, you can step into sunlight, you can go into shadow. Its upto you.
6. You can ask if the pic came out well, the answer is for you to find out. Sometimes you may not even be in the pic or sometimes a part of you is missing. That's technique, modern art you see!

All said and done, some of my best clicks for saree drapes are by this photographer. Today is an exception though. Photographer is in bad mood and refused clicking pics. Hotha hai. Not all days are sunny, not all fingers are even. So, I went back to get help from my old friends - my mobile phone on timer mode mounted on a tripod. Apna haath jagannath! This is a self assembled modal silk ajrakh saree. I was experimenting and chose three different blouse fabrics to be stitched as saree. The pallu has tassels of 10 paise coins (the lady who helped me get this done was kind enough to get me a matching neckpiece with 10 paise coins). And for a change teamed it with a black kurti.

#debsaristories

Yeh pyar kya hotha hai.. with innocent face is what I ask ---- NOT!!! Nope I am more the bro type than babe type!

As bettu and I were busy getting ready for school, patideb came down and said today's Valentine's day. Wow! Good job bhai saab. For the one that forgets our zipcode (he once called me when I was at work asking for this, I did share the zipcode but told him.. bhai saab you could have googled for this info btw. Duh) If he remembered something, that means universal commotion is gonna happen.

But then I know to decrypt his encrypted communications. He actually is wishing from the bottom of his heart that he is celebrating love. That's what it is. Ye, we have this weird communication mechanism where what we mean actually isn't flowery when we say it if at all. Sometimes we yell stupid, idiot even though we actually mean love at the time. Reminds me of our past when each of us were running high on "mujhe kisi ka ehsaan nahi chahiye" hormone.

He to himself - "My foot. I am not the type to splurge money to have a girlfriend. The one who loves me should do so even when I have nothing"
Me to myself - "Huh. I dont get a penny from any guy I don't need a favor from them. I am good on my own and dont wanted to be treated as candy. The one that will love me should love me straight from heart not by show(er)ing material stuff"

When we started off as colleagues our own egos of the independent people we were was running high. One day after work a bunch of us got on to the same bus. It was damn crowded and I wasnt able to take money out. The debsaab had 5/- in hand and he bought my 2/- ticket and his 3/- ticket. I got down at iffco Chowk, and he at the last stop, Sadar Bazar bus adda, Gurgaon.

He to himself- there you go. One more of the female species with an excuse to borrow money from a guy. She could have taken it out in her hand BEFORE getting on to the bus. Bahane kaheen ke!
Me to myself- cursing myself. Idiot you are. You had to ask a guy for favour when you could have very well be prepared. Stupid last time you make this mistake. I saved that bus ticket as a lesson.

Next day morning I showed up at work earlier and walked to his desk. He had that sly smile that meant- 'now what? I wont spend even one more paisa on you' types. I took out my 5/- note and gave to him. I said 'if you dont have 3/- change right now, that's fine.... lunch break mein de dena in cafeteria'. I walked away. Only for both of us to walkin forever into our lives.

Today we gave ourselves everything we wanted wished and blessed with. We gave ourselves a beautiful gift in bettu. We gave ourselves a great family, both sets of parents, laughter, memories and contentment. He gave me a bestie in ma.

Few years later when we knew, only each of us could tolerate the other, he had once taken ma to mall to get me a Valentine's day gift. It was a teddy bear. Ma told me later that when she picked a perfect teddy. He said "no! He picked a slightly chubby, winky, innocent, stubby nosed, clumsy one.. and said this is it- cute and real, not plastic and perfect. Just like her, just what I want because I am not perfect either"

Oh btw karma works! Forget the bus ticket. He pays every life damn ticket of my life today (not quite, sort of.. you know what I mean? You got it right? Ok, money isnt mine or yours at Deb's. Its always ours.. ) Satin crepe white red saree my vday uniform for two years in row with a colorful blouse. Celebrate love. Each day. Every day. ❤❤❤

#houseofblouse

#debsaristories "The template child".

Everyone wants that template child these days, the A graders, who excel in sports, coding, music and pretty much everything. Conversations around us always seem to be about them. Tutor for four year old kid kid having difficulties with alphabet sounds, stretching words, and reading. Mine did not even say one full sentence until then, forget stretching words! Another parent is looking for "competitive soccer team for five year old". Another wants math and English tutor for second grader because the kid would not focus, another parent was mentioning how the seventh grader is into cyber coding whatever that is and is in advanced level. They havent met us right?

I always this one question in mind. Where are the normal kids? Where are those that are ten and forget homework, the ones that laugh and make memories, the ones that are playing around and messing up their toys, faces and having fun? What happens when these kids grow up? Do they earn well? Do they get a job? Are they happy in life (subjective to their definition of happiness) where are they?

Mine was lying on the gym floor yesterday and laughing when the instructor wanted him to do dead bug. He just wouldn't. The other day he forgot where Buddha attained enlightenment so wrote "somewhere in asia", he did homework in math class instead of copying teacher's notes to his classwork and his teacher promptly deducted his score for classwork.

While I dont show him, we do laugh and smile at his childishness. He enjoys life. Not advanced life, the regular basic one.

Today is Basant Panchami. For the past seven years my son is my Saraswati. He taught me to be patient, to pace, to love, to cope and hope, to laugh and to actually make world look positive. I wasnt like this. When he was five he did not meet the "template child" requirement. He didn't have friends, he played with himself, he was calm and dreamy at times.

 I yelled at him and timed out in a "dark room aka closet" because he did not make friends. He would have that clueless pitiful look on his face not knowing what I meant. Then I realized its not him.. it's me. Its others like me in the world that's making his life difficult! He is just doing what he is. That's when he became my Saraswati, my Goddess of Knowledge.

There are days when my temper gets better of me and I say things that are hurtful to him. When I apologize and ask if he hates me he says "tumi amar ma.. I can never hate you because I know how much you love me" How small I feel in front of him then, I cannot explain. I wish Ma Saraswati blesses parents like me to bear with the gems we gave birth to. I know the world doesnt ask for goodness in any job requirement, but without it the world wouldn't be.

A precious authentic Assam Muga Tussar Silk saree with the bengali wedding blouse.

#debsaristories

Ye right? Its rose day! I tried to check what I have. Forget roses.. just like me, my wadrobe seems to have nothing rosy and flowery! Duh. Its Chevrons, checks, stripes, boxes, plains and everything like a men's formal wear except they are colorful and measure six yards. This linen floral digital printed saree saved me, but the blouse is boxy 🤣🤣

I ain't the rose accepting girl type! I wear lipstick and when I drive to work half of it is eaten and the rest is wiped off my shirt soon after. I for a change tried eyeliner to work today and soon it was smeared all around my eyes. Believe me both the lipstick and eyeliner are the supposedly non transfer types. I can be used by cosmetic companies to challenge and test such products. I am sure I can break all their claims just by being myself.

When I came home I saw ma in saree.. and that too a rose printed (she has no clue about rose day, it's pure coincidence!) which is a rare sight these days. Immediately my mood went up and I draped a saree! Dus Bahane karke le Gaye dil !! 😆😆

Valentine's day is approaching. Gosh. Thankfully my husband doesn't write letters else I would be more mad at him for poor handwriting, bad spelling and completely missing punctuation and sentences lengthier than good train.
The  introvert doesnt go poetic.. but when he quietly starts my car because it's cold outside without being asked, I get it. When he keeps the home temperature optimum for me to return from work even though he maybe traveling, I get it. When he quietly watches my fav show on TV with me on a tired Friday night, I get it.

• Life isnt DDLJ and Karan Johar movie. Much as we may make fun, we know deep in our hearts how much the love trust and respect is mutual. Isnt that all what matters in life? He knows I dont like withering bouquets, instead he plants garden full of Roses and nurtures them all year around, I get it. That's my kind of rose day and also the Valentine's day. I get it. 

Oh ye we quarrel over his obsession with electronic gadgets and my sarees. I have warned him NOT, I repeat NOT to compare his wires with my weaves else it wont be good for him. He gets it.

#debsaristories

People say I am crazy. Log mujhe pagal kehte hain. I am not kidding. They wonder why and how I could come home exhausted after a work day, and drape a saree for no reason here in USA and then actually feel happy doing so. They see me as "differently abled "!

There are times I would wonder too... what motivates me to do this? I am no biggie, no socialite, none with tonnes of followers virtual or real. I am just another person, a speck of dust in the huge universe.

Today I attended a training, it's called PeopleFuel. They talked about renewing energy.. oh no not the scientific kind. It's about renewing our energies - physical, emotional, mental and spiritual and how each of them play an important role in how you feel, perform, act or think. They also explained the importance of energy renewal when one of these resources is depleting.. including some simple and mindful tips like deep breath, good sleep, walk, hobby or passion. These can be 1, 5, 10 min renewal sessions.

When we started listing as a group what we would do for these sessions I immediately blurted "if I had ten mins, I usually drape a saree or actually cook a dish" that's truly my renewal. I mean it. Some did not know what a saree is so another Indian origin coworker explained. The group got interested.. and said things like.. "wow that's such a wonderful way of connecting to your roots",, "wow that's a passion to keep you grounded", "thats like meditation, deep thinking and memories you have around those sarees perhaps".

Atleast for once someone had something positive to say about.my craziness and actually all of it is true. My best moments of rejuvenation and energy renewal are when I am in saree and cooking in the kitchen.

So of course today after coming home here I am rejuvenating and renewing enegies!!. I am in saree and I made some masala chai for me and my tea-mate (baba!) Saree (is) and my cup of tea. Me, saree and my kitchen. My "space". I love this authentic ikat cotton handloom. I also love the work on this blouse back, so got them married today.

#debsaristories

Piya ghar aaya o ram ji!! 💃💃💃 I truly believe this dancing red lady is actually doing the thumka from this song.

----- Itni shiddat se maine tumhe paane ki koshish ki hai Ki har zarre ne mujhe tumse milane ki sazish ki hai -----

Turmeric yellow is magic. Marigold is magic. Wedding ceremony haldi or halud is magic. The moment I saw this blouse I fell in love. My wedding ceremony was done in bengali tradition with a tadka of telugu customs also. I had a gaaye halud ceremony too on the day of wedding but I wasnt as aware then, I wore turquoise blue saree, plaited hair, neatly tucked jasmine flowers etc.

Later when I used to see pics of other gaaye halud ceremonies I used to think I should have known better! So when I saw this blouse I wanted to relive my own self made gaaye halud moment. Teamed up a korvai pure zari silk kanjivaram with the marigold blouse. Aah koi mujhe shaadi ka invitation bhej pls. I am craving wedding ceremony fun and food 😭😭😭