Musings of a Global Nomad

Dearest friends and family, Greetings and the warmest Christmas blessings from the Holy Land where we are so blessed and excited to be spending Christmas this year. It has been quite emotional and humbling, to be here amidst so much history. The learning and the understanding of the different faiths, who all have a special connection to the Holy land has made this trip all that more enriching and enlightening.  So...It was mid August and I was lamenting to a friend about the awful summer we were having. What was supposed to have been a relaxing holiday with my parents, feasting on mums home cooked meals, sleeping in late and waking up to the sound of monsoon rain dancing on the tiled roof above, had turned out to be what will go down in family history as one of the most disastrous summers ever. I will get to the details later, but this friend in a bid to make me laugh said “well atleast you already have material for your annual newsletter’. I laughed and was grateful fo...

Dear friends and loved ones,   Anticipating a packed agenda in the weeks leading up to Christmas, for the first time ever I begin to write this letter while it’s still only November (albeit the last weekend in November). Whether this means I am just better at prioritizing and planning ahead or I simply need more time to write, I will let you decide:) Let me begin with a warm Nigerian greeting. How far? Wétin dey? That’s, how are you? What’s up? in Pidgin English, Nigeria’s unofficial lingua franca. One of the things we have most appreciated about Nigeria, is the warmth and importance of a greeting. No matter who you meet, from a passerby asking for directions, to a VIP, they will always spend a few moments saying hello, asking how was your day (and night- which by the way is completely innocent) and often complimenting you on your dress, your smile, or your hair style.  (Talking about hair, Indian hair is apparently quite in demand  this side of the world ...

Published in daijiworld weekly, June 29th, 2018 It is that time of year again, the season of leaving. Around the world there is a generation of young adults who have just finished either high school or college. They are ready to fly the nest, as their parents look on with a mixture of pride and nostalgia, not quite ready to let go, but who do so nevertheless. They know it is time for a new chapter to begin, time for their children's own stories to really take life. I know a bit about this season of leaving. Last year my eldest daughter turned 18, graduated from high school and went off to University, all in a span of a two months. The night before her birthday, I sat flicking through photos of the years that had flown by, and found myself smiling through the tears. Each photograph brought flashbacks, and had me yearning to relive them. The sweet friendly baby, the talkative, dramatic toddler, the pre teen who took on the role of big sister and the typical moody insolen...

When posted in Nigeria, Gerard and I had the honor to represent our state Karnataka in a fashion show, showcasing traditional clothes from different  parts of India. Organized by the Indian High Commission, along with the Indian Women's Association and Indian Cultural Association in Abuja, it was a wonderful evening that truly captured the diversity of the India I know and love. From our Northernmost State Kashmir to Tamil Nad u  in the South, the models did a superb job in showcasing the right costume and accessories. Every model was outfitted uniquely and walked the ramp with confidence  and sublime elegance. The many practices we had, the people I met and the actual event itself culminated into one of those life experiences for me; the kind that leaves you feeling nostalgic and elated. Not only was it an opportunity to acquaint people about the rich culture that India exudes, but it was also an opportunity for me to feel closer to our country. As one of those ...

2017 could well be dubbed the ‘Year of the Woman’. Or perhaps, it could be better described as the “Year of the Angry Women’. From politics, to sexual harassment, to exposing inequalities of pay, abuse, and discrimination, women came together to tell their stories loudly and fearlessly. It’s almost funny. We think we live in the modern world and yet more than 100 years after women were first ‘granted’ the right to vote, so many women all over the world are still not respected and treated like equals. Too many, are still afraid to speak the truth; still afraid to do something that might anger the husband, the father, the brother, the male boss; still not allowed to spend the money they earn the way they want to; still subjugated, suppressed and abused. Indeed in our modern world: Every minute, somewhere a young girl becomes a child bride.  Approximately 35 per cent of women have experienced physical or sexual violence, and more than 70 per cent of women have experie...

Dear ones, It’s Christmas morning, and as I sit here in our garden, under the warm Abuja sun, my thoughts are with all our loved ones far away. And as I think of the year gone by and summon up memories to share, I am smiling because all in all, it has been a good year. The first half of the year was quite eventful and stressful. Gerard was in Nigeria, while we were in Rome. We also had all the trauma that comes with high school finals (we constantly asked ourselves if it was necessary for 17 year olds to have so much stress- was the IB worth it?). Then there was the stress of university applications and interviews and finally the excitement of receiving acceptances. Arhantika got accepted into both her top choices and went with her first choice, University of South Wales in Cardiff to study Photojournalism. The months flew by and before we knew it, it was time to start packing for the move to Abuja. The last few weeks in Rome were fun. We had family and friends visit ...

My Darling A, It seems unreal. I cannot, I just cannot comprehend that by the time the sun rises tomorrow my baby, my first born, will officially be an adult. As I sit flicking through photos of the years that have flown by, I smile through the tears. Each photograph brings flashbacks, memories that pierce the soul and have me yearning to relive them. The day you were born, the first chuckles, the toddler banter. You were the friendliest and easiest baby ever. And then you grew up; you took on the role of big sister and the years and the experiences began to mold you into someone who was tough, kind and smart. Then the teenage years rolled in and you proved every notion about teenagers right. There were those days that you were moody and insolent, cheeky and daring! But we plodded through, loving you more than ever, trying our best to be ‘parent friends’, forgiving, coaxing, teaching, preaching, shouting, each side, both you and us exercising patience, tolerance and restraint u...