'a bucketful of love'
Be gentle. Be soft. Be kind. Be love. Yes, be love. Love that is grateful, boundless, and giving.
We start our days with a grateful heart, and a bucketful of love. For the chubby fingers and tiny toes, pouty yawns and curious stares. For showing us how to love selflessly, how to care unabashedly, and how to nurture wholeheartedly. The new-borns are precious. And pure.
Just as we intend our jhablas for your babies to be. You can take heart knowing that the cotton used to make them is organic, which means you’ve helped make the earth happy, and of course the farmers growing the cotton too! Imagine knowing that the dyes used to colour the fabrics are Azo-free dyes, which make our super soft jhablas safe for your little one’s sensitive undeveloped derma. And the hands that stitch the clothes are paid fair wages, have hygienic and safe working conditions.
Yes, your little one makes us want to be a little gentler, a lot kinder, towards each other. And be hopeful for a beautiful future, for them. Let’s refill that bucket with boundless love.
They said, "To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart." Oh, go somewhere, it did. Stealing glimpses beyond the slatted screens, diving into bowls full of ramen, it even did a happy dance under the beautiful cherry blossom trees. It wore a kimono, tied pigtails into a bun, it walked the dainty walk, thought it was all fun.
That was then. And this is now.
It has been a quiet passage of time; sometimes of a gentle sadness of things, and of times when deep silences found their wings. Nothing was too small, or too less, each life had a soul.
You taught me how to live in the now, that beauty and music can be found in the smallest, everyday action. I found in you, my peace; a reason for my heart to sing.
Dear Japan, my whole heart will be yours forever; this is a beautiful start of a lifelong love letter.
'the winter sun'
The coldest days brought out the brightest smiles and the warmest hugs. Where wintry mornings were made of cupped cheeks and huddled heads.
And, Sundays were meant for chasing sun beams.
Oh, the jostling and nudging with the sibling finally leading to sharing that spot in the sun.
We would sit there for hours, making new friends with the shadows that formed. Weaving stories, fantasies, and day dreams. Of ships, air planes, trotting deer, elves and fairies.
The winter sun was made of little things like this, that and so many. Oh, the memories.
'once upon a cotton cloud'
happy little puffy cloud
is all i want to be
a happy little puffy cloud
to float away as far as eyes can see
to be atop a puffy cloud
how joyful it would be
little peaks, and tiny jumps
with blue all around me
the sun, the moon and the stars
they'd all play with me
if only a happy little puffy cloud
is what I could be