Skype time

Skype Time
I am caught in a time warp.
I check my phone as soon as I wake
to check pictures of the babies and little girls
that my siblings are raising.

I am the Elder and I am not on site.

Some days it is a good thing,
as I am too busy to do more
than plod though my course readings
and write my responses.
There is no free time, not yet at least.

So I email them
and ask for Skype time.

My niece says to me: "Pachchi, I love you" in the background
even as her mother talks to me.
She knows that I can hear her
in the distance.

I holler back at her: "I love you too"
Heartstrings, underwater cables, satellites, 3G network:
when heartstrings are synched, it is all good.

Thank you, Steve.

My motorcycle brother

I am at a delightful, family-owned cafe on Main Street Markham. The radio plays softly in the background. Sounds of conversations, laughter, the clink of cutlery and the buzz of a cash register flow over my senses. There is a subtle fragrance of food, fresh baking, the aroma of coffee. In a 'double-tall-extra-hot-non-fat-latte' world, where I can register my plastic card and am just one more hit on the website, this little oasis is a gift. It is warm here, in every way. That's why I return.

It is Markham's not-so-best-kept secret, we are that proud of it. We like to flaunt it to our friends, we like to bring our children, we like to go there by ourselves. Enough of the synechdoche, I like to do all that and more. I come here to sit, to write, to dream.

Today is one of those days. With a life that is cluttered with deadlines, such a gift of time, eye appointment or not, is to be celebrated. And I have decided to break my one-cup-a day rule. Livin' it up, I am a rebel today, more than ever.

I have often sat by the back wall that leads to the parking lot. As a regular now, I know exactly which lot to park in and walk in with minimal slush on my shoes. This wall is adorned with family pictures: parents, a young boy, a lovely daughter. I notice that the mother has gifted her glowing eyes to the girl. There are also pictures of motorcycles and trips that have become stories for the rider. I dream of my own journey.

The father places freshly baked bread in the glass case. The son goes from speaking in his beautiful mother tongue with family members, as they move around one another in well rehearsed orbits and with equal fluency, talks hockey ( to me a foreign tongue) to patrons. They are all addressed by name.

I engage him in coversation and ask about the motorcycle trip and the pictures. I share with him my dream of riding across this vast country, coast to coast, on a motor cycle the year I turn 50. He shares his own stories and those of his friends, older than I am, who at 73 have made similar trips.

As he moves on to his next set of chores, I say to him: " I still have a few years. Until then, I will just keep coming back to your wall and sit with my coffee and dream".

"Yes", he says: "Dreaming is important. Dreams get you there".

My motorcycle brother, until today unknown, is my newest inspiration.

Now for one more cup of coffee and one more dream.

A day of surprises

It is a day for surprises. I like surprises, at least the ones I am prepared for. The trick is to learn how to enjoy those that spring out unannounced, the real surprises.


I had a doctor's appointment today and dropped off my son at a friend's place to catch the school bus. A few minutes later, I had to go back and pick him up as buses were cancelled, so I guess I had him all to myself all day. Now that's a good thing: as a full time working mother juggling two Master's courses and work related paperwork crying out for attention, deadlines have taken over my life. Things dont get easier, I just bet more competent at juggling multiple items. Some days I wonder lying in bed at 5 am why 10 pm is so far away, as that's the time I get back home from university. So I was quite looking forward to a day to myself with no one else at home, a rare luxury for my timebound self.

Well, anichcha. He is off to high school soon. What a blessing to have my able bodied child with me the whole day when last year was wrought with pain and indecision.

So appointment done, emails answered, we are at breakfast and I meet my MotorCycle brother for the first time.