an itinerant observer

Prologue : The bathwater, initially clear blue, gradually takes on a pinkish hue. Like rose water … or fresh henna, that’s come off of tattooed hands and feet immersed in a bath tub. The water overflows onto the pristine white tiled floor, making it blush. Mesmerized by the changing colors, my mind unsuccessfully tries not to focus on the source of that color. Blood. That oozes out of deep slits in both forearms of a beautiful young girl. Hannah sobs quietly and sighs deeply – but refrains from screaming despite pain from incised sinew, nerves, arteries and veins. [Random thought: they say arteries and veins don’t have pain receptors … ] Hannah’s muffled groans eventually die down; so does her body as her life takes flight. And thus Hannah Baker dies at age 17. She takes her own life and she does so in an extreme manner. ****************************************************** “What if Hannah’s parents had discovered her in the bathroom a tad bit earlier? What if 911 ha...

“Noori! You cannot keep watching YouTube videos on my cell phone”. I must have screamed a hundred times that day. “Okay Baba , can I look at pictures on your facebook?” I came really close to losing it again, but exactly at that moment I had a facebook status-like epiphany. “Noori, is facebook a good thing or a bad thing?” I asked of my 5-year-old kindergartner. The conversation that it generated led to interesting realizations. “FB is good Baba , because you can see photos on it”, said Noori. I was not oblivious to the emphasis that my kindergartner was placing on the acronym. Rayaan, my 10-year-old son happened to be present then. One might have very easily overlooked him, as is the norm [he prefers being in the background]. This time around, although it appeared that he was deep into his book, he was listening in. “FB is bad because people spend too much time on it”, was the comment from the ‘wise old man’. “No Bhai , it’s fun because you can find out what’s happening in peop...

"Happy Birday , Baba !” The emphasis on the chicken in that birthday wish was not lost on me. Although I appreciated my kindergartner’s signature artwork, I couldn’t help but cringe inwardly when I thought how fast the fortieth was approaching.  When I am in a thoughtful mind frame, especially on my birthday, words are conceived. I tend to shy away from too much fanfare on my birthday. I feel that it should be a subtle rejoicing and reflecting of what I have gone through the previous year and preparation for the next. The icing on the cake, no pun intended, would be to spend that day quietly with a few near or far, but dear ones. But then that’s me. For some, birthdays are of grave significance: to be CELEBRATED and indulged in—decadence then has no limits. Thus, conventional wisdom for me would be to give it the importance it deserves on a case-by-case basis. Should I be sad that there is one less year to live or be happy for the potential opportunity that still exists ...