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Rain and Books

Rain and Books

Dark clouds have rolled in. The wind howls outside rattling our eleventh floor windows. Rain has come, making the world wet with its falling. It’s my favourite time of the year, but also a time when all our outings feel rationed. We are indoors so much more. And our hearts pursue a slower, succulent everyday. In the monsoon, we begin our days by lighting diyas around the house. That comforting, flickering glow is like a familiar hand - holding and walking us into the season. Charcoal bits sprinkled with Sambrani dust sit inside a dhuni. When burnt, the scented fumes saunter through the rooms. It is beautiful how when it rains, everything goes quieter. And the quietness coaxes us to pause and gaze at rain scribbling on windowpanes. Then, there are books that we read when it rains. Books and rain that go well with each other. Like best friends.
Memories of childhood - a photo story

Memories of childhood - a photo story

Memories of childhood - a photo story by Nirmala Mayur Patil.

Memories as soft as muslin, woven on the loom of slow days - wishing on stars, swinging under the trees, gazing out of windows, leaving flower gifts in unthinkable places, hiding between curtains, making art on pavements, celebrating sweet messes, tiptoeing, scribbling, having long conversations with secret friends, and believing in fairies.’

Why there is music

Why there is music

[Photo credit - Nirmala Patil] Sitting in the dark, my hand softly stroking my belly, I often whispered my love to the tiny infant blooming inside me. I think that’s...