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Winter Sun

Winter Sun

Somedays, I go for solitary morning walks wrapped in my shawl.
The winter garden is faded with fog
and the wind among the branches
of the wayside trees is solemn and still.

I slip out of my kolhapuris 
and walk barefoot on the dew-bathed grass.
Cold slowly starts to seep into me,
making me one with the wintry earth.

High on the trees, some birds begin to sing.  
I take a deep breath and exhale,
the evidence of being alive comes out of my mouth
as a visual breath, like a cloud. 
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.’

Joy over Glamour

Joy over Glamour

[Photo credit - Nirmala Patil] Once again, it is that time of the year… for genda (marigold) torans to brightly gleam on doorways, kitchens to puff up with the scent...
Fading memories

Fading memories

[Photo credit - Nirmala Patil] This year, on autumn’s first full moon, we’ll celebrate our daughter’s fifth birthday. Five years. How does one measure five years - of a child’s...
bidding adieu

bidding adieu

[photo story - Nirmala Patil]
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...
My story of love

My story of love

[Photo - Nirmala Patil] He was coming home for the first time, to meet my parents. It was a windy June morning and I remember being drawn to the play...