Yummy!

It would be a bit much to say they are friends. But they are very fond of each other and meet up as often as they can which is about twice a year. They both care deeply for young people and support each other’s work. One is a dedicated mother of five. Keeps a beautiful house and garden. Cooks the best food. Sews gorgeous clothes and looks amazing. The second woman has one child who stopped living a few years ago. She doesn’t care much about her house or garden. Can’t use a sewing machine. Doesn’t pay much attention to her appearance.

The second woman appreciates the first one’s invitation to lunch. They sit at the dining table on top of which appear five large aromatic dishes straight from the oven – roasties, grilled carrots and broccoli, kale chips and baked salmon marinated in exotic spices.

As they settle down with their plates, the first woman starts “My Anne has been challenging since she was little. When she was six and we lived in South America, she got it in her head that she wanted to make a cloth tent. We went to the shops and she chose the materials in the green colour she likes. I put it together the best I could and then she wanted buttons and ribbons to go on it and I did all of that. When the tent was ready, I put it up in the living room before she returned from school with great anticipation. She took one look at it and declared “I no like.” She kicked it. It went lopsided and she went up the stairs to her room.”

“My Mike is dreadfully over-confident. He can charm anyone into telling him their secrets. He can make anyone laugh ….. And my Noel! He’s a big architect in Leeds and I love his girl-friend. She is so down-to-Earth. I am so glad they found each other …. And when they asked me what I wanted for my birthday …. And when we all went on a holiday ….. And when they got engaged …. And my Lisa! She is such a good designer. She comes up with original patterns for her tops and I stitch them for her. She carries her dresses like a model …. And my youngest… Oh! He’s full of ….”

The second woman places her attention on the delicious meal. She has no invitation to speak.

Be the Change

Be the change

RIP George Floyd.

The waves of raging violence in one form or another, in the street, on the TV, on Twitter, on Facebook, against the government, against one section of society or another. It is present everywhere I look. It seems to be the problem and the solution. Cops carrying guns to control gun-carrying people. Knees as weapons. Cries for mercy falling on multiple pairs of stone-deaf ears. Rich countries indiscriminately bombing poor ones in the name of peace, to bring them ‘liberty’. International leaders goading each other on to continue expanding their defence budgets.

I was born in a country of huge contrasts. It won its independence from the Brits, who ruled by the gun, under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi, who lived and led by non-violence which was the core of Gandhi’s contribution to the world. For him nonviolence was the greatest force at the disposal of mankind, mightier than any weapon, superior to brute force. A living force that no one has been or ever will be able to measure the limits or extent of, just like love. In fact, he translated the Sanskrit word, Ahimsa (which literally means non-violence) as love.

True nonviolence is dissociated from fear. Gandhi felt that possession of arms is not only cowardice but also lack of fearlessness or courage. Gandhi stressed this when he said, “I can imagine a fully armed man to be at heart a coward. Possession of arms implies an element of fear, if not cowardice but true nonviolence is an impossibility without the possession of unadulterated fearlessness.”

The same country, India, classes some people as ‘untouchables’ and treats them as such. The discrimination against dark skinned people is ugly to watch. You only need to watch an Indian film and look at the mountains of money spent on the skin-whitening cream, ‘Fair and lovely’.

Saagar and I knew what it means to look different, be different. We both suffered in our own ways because of people’s instant judgements, inability to look beyond our skin and their downright unkindness.

Let’s teach ourselves and our children a new alphabet:

A – Abundance of love

B – Belonging / Brotherhood

C – Compassion/Connection 

D – Diversity

E – Empathy

F – Forgiveness

G – Giving / Gratitude

H – Harmony / Healing

I – Intimacy

J – Joy

K – Kindness

L – Listening / Learning

M – Meaning

N – Non-violence

O – Openness / Oneness

P – Peace

Q – Quest

R – Remembrance

S – Self-compassion

T – Trust

U – Unity in Diversity / Understanding

V – Victory over our inner demons

W – Wisdom

X – Xanadu (an ideal place of magnificence and beauty)

Y – You matter.

Z – Zeal for love and life.

Salute.

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A mother of a teenager in Molenbeek, a suburb of Brussels got this text message, “Congratulations,” it read. “Be proud of him. He is now a martyr. Be happy he died fighting the unbelievers.” Molenbeek is said to be the jihadist capital of Europe and has lost many of its young to radicalisation.

NATO bombs have been falling on migrant boats, night markets, residential buildings, motels, random vehicles, hospitals, wedding parties filled with innocent people like you and me, in the name of liberty and democracy, killing sons and daughters of many mothers.

Continuous shellings, massacres, occupations and sieges in places like Mosel, Raqqua, Aleppo, Ghouta and Gaza carry on for weeks, months, years and decades, claiming innumerable lives of children of mothers who mourn for the rest of their lives.

Some mothers have everything taken from them. They are unable to provide for the most basic needs of their children due to various reasons, one of them being the blockade to aid, such as the one in Yemen. Some have to exchange sexual favours for minimal aid. Some are forced to watch their kids starve. Some of the realities are unimaginable.

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(Source: War through Syrian eyes)

We all are on the same grid of heart-breaking, unconditional love. Today, on Mother’s day, I send my love to mothers all over the world. I salute their tenacity  and commitment. I admire their strength. I hope for peace  and wisdom for all. I honour their grace and grief. I pray for their healing. I stand with them, their pain and helplessness, their love and longing. Our empathy envelops this burning globe like a silk scarf.