Musings of a Global Nomad

We have often read about everyday hero's who touch lives and bring hope. Last weekend I had the opportunity to meet with one such hero who brought out emotions hard to express. He taught me and my children a valuable lesson about commitment and sharing. Gagan with his piggy bank What makes this hero all the more unique and exceptional is that he is a 11 year old special needs child. His name is Gagan and I first met him when I started volunteering at the Cottolengo School for children with mental and intellectual disabilities here in Whitefield, Bangalore. He was a quiet child but extremely well behaved, always eager to learn and quick to smile. My weekly visits to the school where I introduced them to the world of computers was always a bright spot in my week. As anyone who has the good fortune to spend time with special children will know, their innocence and purity makes a mark on your heart that claims a space deep within. Many of them are residential as they have no k...

As you all know my husband Gerard has been in Kabul for the last year. He works for the World Food Programme and took on this hardship non family post after much thought and deliberation. Yes we knew it was risky! But once the decision was made, we refused to be bogged down with negative thoughts and took on the challenge of living the life of a non distance family with as much gumption as we could. We have adjusted amazingly well to Indian life. The kids go to a great school and as we watch them thrive and soar we feel relieved and proud. I have found my corner of contentment. A great job that challenges me and gives me the flexibility to successfully run errands, car pool, attend every single school event, good friends and neighbors who take the time to drown in margaritas with me on days that are overwhelming and my parents who are always just a call away- ah the life of a single mother!  Yes the months have flown by and though there are moments when I feel lonely and mis...

A few nights ago our kids Ryeika and Neeira had their annual day in school. This is a much anticipated night in the school calender. Every class puts on a show and remarkably every single child gets up on stage to either narrate, act, sing or dance. The auditorium is filled with parents cheering, many have tears streaming down their faces as they watch with pride and joy. For me it was all that more special. As I watched Neeiras second grade class take the stage I was filled with nostalgia for a land I left six months ago but fierce pride for, in the next twenty minutes they brought a little piece of Ethiopia to India. It all started a few months ago when Neeiras teacher invited parents to come and tell the kids a moral story set in their home country. I decided to tell the kids an Ethiopian story called' The Perfect Orange.' Though not technically my home country, it is the land of my birth and I had just had the privilege of having lived there for the last thr...

Ok, so I am not American. But there is an attachment of sorts. I lived there for a year when I was sixteen and the incredible experience of living in small town America as an exchange student will stay with me for ever. Ever since, I love going  to America ( the shopping, the food, and not to forget my one and only bro and our many dear friends who live there!). Nevertheless I am a sceptic about the whole 'America is great' ideology that all (sorry most) Americans profess and hence cannot call myself one of the country's biggest fans.  So it is with much surprise that I found myself following the American elections so closely. Thanks to the media, by default I think we all know a thing or two about American politics and I am certain a large majority of the world's TV owning population watched the elections live and waited with baited breath for America to choose a new president.  And like me, I don't think most of them cared as much about the...

Its Saturday morning....Would have loved to sleep in but have been up since 6.30. We had three kids over for a sleepover last night and of course since its not a school day, they have to wake up on their own much before they really need too:) But that's fine, it gave me a chance to have an early morning lengthy cuppa out on the terrace. Though the younger kids are up and about my TEENAGER is fast asleep. Its the one day she gets to sleep in. I tell the younger kids to play quietly but its a tall order and though they are not extremely loud, their laughter, chatter and Lirayas periodical Liraya screams fill the house. I am on my computer by now and catching up with emails and Facebook. Suddenly there is a ping- new email alert. Who's it from? The TEENAGER! Apparently she is awake and sending me an email asking me to forward her her homework which comes to me weekly from school(another post on this later). She is directly below me. She doesn't think it necessary to walk up ...

I love to write! I think I write well. What the hell I know I write well. When I was young I wanted to be a journalist but somewhere along the way I pushed that dream to the back burner and got a degree in Management instead. No regrets but the passionate writer in me longs for release.  So and now and then I write something to keep alive the scribe in me but not often enough. I always have excuses... too busy, no inspiration, no audience, the endless list surprises even me. As for encouragement there definitely hasn't been a lack of that. My biggest cheerleaders- my parents and my husband, my friends who read my yearly Christmas updates and sporadic musings, have all, always gently prodded me to write more. But while I happily sap up the praise and honestly make a resolution to write more, I come up with new excuses and the weeks fly by... But here I am writing a blog....perhaps this is the beginning! Our family is what many call a global n...