Who do you think you are?

What makes us who we are ?

Our parents, society or that voice within?

Do we bring with us something beyond? From our past lives..May be so.

I see it in my daughter, aspects of her that are not a derivative of her gene pool. These aspects define her identity.

As parents we may want to mould her to our expectations. Though only 3 years old, she lets us know loud and clear that we can attempt it with much kicking and screaming.

Unlike our parents generation and the ones before, I look into that determined, artistic, dramatic being and think “will I take away your ability to be who you are meant to be by taming you, to be accepted by me and the world?”

So who are we?

Am I thoughts that so fleetingly pass and yet travel to many places and point of views?

Yet some thoughts swirling in my head are not mine…I know thats so.

So who am I?

I feel I find the true ‘me’ in silence, shut to the world…pondering on life…

And sometimes in the first thought or feeling not hinged by any expectations.

I am ‘me’ when I feel a sense of calmness…unhindered by fear of looking good or bad.

I know that ‘ me’ when I love just because…with no reason or demands…uninhibited….connected to my being.

The ugly part of me is also me…in the moments only I like to hope…

Anger, hurt, frustration or even jealousy brought about at times not reaching the standard the world set for me or I indirectly set for myself.

My romanticized notion of me, noble, just, kind, centred and loving. I cannot be all the time. This I know now.

I keep asking this question, reworking the clay in my hand, sculpting me as I discover who I am.

Life so sweetly crumbles my delusions and forces me to see the journey of self discovery is not a rosey path. Love and acceptance of yourself, for who you are is what will set you free to be that person you were born to be….

Breathing life into it with my memories – Welcome to 2019!



This was an old rocking chair from Srilanka, that was sitting around at my parents’ place. I took it from them a few years ago saving it before it hit the rubbish tip.

It also stayed with me neglected even outside for a year. Facing the brunt of the weather, fading away. Still I couldn’t give it up. My husband gave me ultimatums each year to fix it or lose it.

I held onto it, half knowingly and unknowingly of memories from my childhood.

It reminded me of Srilanka? Yes and No, more it reminded me of life once lived, embedded in my brain as feelings. Those of contenment, love and joy. Its only in digging further while coming up with justifications for my husband on why I am keeping this old chair, I remembered the golden evenings with the sun setting on the verandah, when we were all together, my grandfather sleeping in a wooden chair called “easy chair”with similar thatch work as this one. The simple life before the civil war. We weren’t rich nor poor, the land and community provided enough that there was rarely memories of wanting more. My dad was a Vet and often rendered his services to the people in the village free of charge. They in return paid him with what they can from their harvest, or with other commodities from their land and what their animals produced like milk, egg.

I even remembered the Thatch workers, who went from village to village to rethatch and repairing old furnitures. I remembered them coming to our place.

In the end I realised, this chair held a connection to my childhood and my grandfather. That was what missing all these years while I held on to this weathered, lifeless rocking chair.

So finally I did somerhing about it and breathed life into this beautiful furniture with my memories.

Beauty of life

Its been a while since I wrote, for various reasons life gets busy but it was partly because I really didn’t feel like writing. I had nothing new to share…

Now, I am writing to share a new perspective. May be its not new for you all and even for me. But it is something that has hit home in the last few weeks. I realise life is so much about perception mostly yours, containing fragments of others. I have read in many spiritual books that in life it is the only thing you really have control of….thus the choice of being happy or sad is in your hands.

Thou true I realise, we still need to be weary of the “story” that plays in our mind of who we think we are and our life. We all have our stories…the background score of our movie.

In the end, the survivors of life, are those who continue to see the glimmer of light and hope…They are the content ones.

Those who forgive, let go and even love past the injustices.

Those who see that life doesn’t live you but you live it.

It is not easy sometimes you say, true but look at your life and those around you. You keep going and living because Hope has a way of surviving the darkest and grimmest days…

If you still can’t see then look at the news the war torn countries and those holding on to life each day, not knowing what tomorrow will bring and awaiting a better day. I know this is not the answer and is only a temporary fix. Thou each one of our struggles may not be of a life and death nature, it is real and a challenge on day to day basis. But it certainly gives you a moment when your life isn’t so bad. I am beginning to use this practice as a reflection and a moment to say grace.

My lesson and something new to share that I had forgotten is that till you wait for a better day enjoy the moments of joy, happiness and self love however short lived they are because that’s Life…

One day even if a better day according to your expectations has not come to fruition, you will look back and realise life wasn’t so bad. It was good, fun, people loved you and you loved them. The “better” days were there already.

We flourish because of our hearts and not our minds ….

A feel of Italy

Reminances of the past revamped with a touch of modern world. To my surprise I came across this beautiful cafe, in Parramatta, New South Wales.

You would think it might have been a shot of a quaint cafe in Rome or Florence.

I love these little surprises which await you in the corner, a beautiful site of a world so far from Australia. It took me back to our Europe trip a few years ago.

Happy Father’s Day

Yesterday was Father’s Day in Australia. It always falls on the first Sunday in September.

My husband enjoyed a delicious breakfast – French Toast, with homemade blueberry compote, sliced banana and a small dollop of ice cream cooked by moi of course. Pretty lucky guy huh😊

I got to celebrate this day also with other special man in my life, my Dad. He along with my mum have been the pillars of strength and support through my life. Their love in so many ways so unconditional. My dad has always been the protector of our family. I always felt safe because he was around. He gave us a good foundation in life in regard to integrity and morals that has guided his children through our lives.

He learnt this from his father. My grandfather who was the embodiment of truth, love and integrity. He sacrificed so much for his family but never spoke of it as such because of the joy he derived from it I think. He was probably one of the calmest people I have ever known. I had the privilege of growing up with him through my childhood.

I guess this is what these days are meant to be… Not a cliche. It’s about celebrating and valuing family and also remembering the family even if they are not physically here. They never leave our hearts and become ingrained within parts of who we are.

Freedom of expression tag – Beauty.

Beauty thank you Richa for creating this creative tag. Please click “ping back” to visit her post and site.

We are surrounded each day with messages of what is beautiful. These images are on Magazines, billboards, movies, TV, social media and advertisments telling you how you can attain it.

Women are impacted more by what the world expects us to be visually, than men. But this is changing for men also.

Though aware, “Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder”..Its hard in a world consumed by superficiality.

Especially for the young ones, who unlike ever before are bombarded with a definition of Beauty from such a young age.

We have all been there and most of us are still there fighting it and yielding to it, at the same time.

There is nothing wrong in wanting to be beautiful, who doesn’t want to be but at what cost, so define it in your terms and not by the society”s expectations.

Start by becoming comfortable in your skin, I know its easy to say…But essentially it is the only way.

The confidence which comes from this, will turn the flaws that you see in the mirror into your unique beauty .