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Showing posts from June, 2018

The Years Without Fingerprints

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Some years don’t leave fingerprints. For the last few years, time feels like it has quietly pressed fast-forward. I finished tenth grade in 1997. Twelfth grade in 1999. I exited my teens right as the new millennium arrived. And somewhere along the way, I crossed a strange milestone: I’ve now lived more of my life after 2000 than before it. Yet most of my vivid memories still belong to the pre-2000 world. Maybe childhood memories are denser. Or maybe adult life is just better at overwriting itself. Post-2000 is one thing—but post-2020 is another entirely. The last five years feel like I took a hand towel, wiped my face, and tossed it away. Gone. Just… blur. Nothing makes time’s passage more obvious than children. Akhil and Sahana are growing up fast, each carving out a personality that couldn’t be more different. Akhil’s fascination with basketball has only deepened—remarkably so, given his usual talent for boredom. Middle school is around the corner, and we’re all quie...

The insecurities

Akhil loves storytelling time.  He imagines a multitude and wants to convey a million things.  It's fascinating how blissfully he con construct something totally random and make sense of it.  There is a Neato cleaning robot at home which Akhil is super scared of and so we have carefully hidden it.  Every bedtime ritual involves something about this robot. Appa, tell me Neato stoiee (story). First, it went along the lines of, "Akhil pressed the Neato button.  The Neato went near Akhil's kaal (feet), Akhil got scared and so Appa pressed the button, and the Neato went back to the charging station." After some time, who pressed the Neato button was a game by itself.  Sometimes, it was a dinosaur; sometimes, it was his friend, Mukund.  Sometimes, Akhil was the savior in comforting everyone who was scared of the Neato. Storytelling has evolved over time.  It used to be me leading him on a story. I used to frame whatever imagination I had in con...