Kamna's Blog

The objectification and romanticization of everyday Entering a room with a notion to spot something new but that which was already there To make it a point to rediscover and see with new eyes what never registered to your brain  To acknowledge that "wow okay the brand of this commode I've sat on for decades is Eagle and there is a little Eagle illustration by it" The conviction that random waking up to the orange moon is because the moon wanted to see you and descended languidly to rest upon the tall towers just for a midnight rendezvous with you So that when you do wake up, the sight of the moon is so bewitchingly arresting, that it takes your breath away and all you can do is mirror its warm gaze to the point of it lulling you gently back to sleep Attachment to tiny corners of rooms that you know you're leaving soon Furniture moved in big trucks leaving the vacant echo of a freshly quiet flat The excitement of newness underlined with the undertow of a small sadness ...

The richest bathrooms have the oldest toothbrushes Luxury is often a pursuit that requires perseverance and an unhealthy dollop of miserliness The relentless decision to choose to be prudent  To always trade today's pain for the sake of tomorrow's rest The constant awareness to prevent unchecked spending Every meal homecooked  Every spray bottle old and refilled rather than repurchased This is how  Old money manages to keep the money While new money loses it Old money saves money and that's how they keep the money It's when you underline your eyes too much that you end up overlining them

Do you recall who you were before the trauma that led you take your own life? Why couldn't you? Is a question I'll never get answered Never in the sense that I never will encounter your soul, the same very one  All I have is your ghost for the rest of my life I can't reconcile That I couldn't be the one who you could lean on In your worst times You knew you had only one way out The untimely suddenness of you being gone Is all I have I have to sit with my incapacity for nights many more beyond the wee hours of three Unanswered questions  I hope to understand  But it seems futile Another mother mourns a child gone too soon Another mentor sobs through sheets A bad dream I refuse to close my eyes and once again see

It’s predictably every January The psychological shift mentally That this year will be different More resolve to achieve archived aspirations I feel a new shift, different from Januaries past This version of me is more frugal than ever The indulgence mindset dissolving away Every decision not wrought with impulse Rather a cautiousness that what will come easy won't last A peace, a serenity, acknowledgement that what lasts won’t come easy Your share of the pie is reserved for only you to devour But endure you must The delays, the trials, the foreshadowing and signs of slowly unraveling dreams  Faith, perseverance and positivity in your little colourful fanny pack This is the path most exquisite The learnings abundant This is my dharma and I will not shortcut it

Say stop For if uninterrupted I may keep talking "Listening intently The coffee steaming Your story must go on" I'm done Just about finished You may go now, dear "You're wonderful So much endeavoured Yet your feet stay grounded" Thank you Much too kind Hope to see you later

Time to confess About how big your courage is Does it permeate into scary new waters? Does it falter too, like mine? Like leaning back against a settee that moves with your movement Proving its unreliability and your misjudgement spontaneously Like revealing secrets in the dark and realising with great shock it was just the black curtain before the keenly listening silent audience Proving its fallacy and your foolish folly spontaneously

“You’ll move mountains with that persistence” Sure, assuming I persist consistently Which is a big if What if the mountain doesn’t want to be moved? Its immobility is its strength. It’s my mountain but everyone’s watching They all want to know how I’ll overcome it. But I ask of them Show me your mountain too Let me see it budge by you Monkey see monkey do

Transcribed from paper . Unused to writing with a pen. Well at least it’s a gel pen. Reminds me of 10th board exams. The blue gel. The familiar neat cursive as if it was a friend's rather than my own. The fact that it's an Add Gel and I loved the Cat version. I enjoyed the cab ride here, my first time in Aundh, in awe of this plush bungalow-flled part of Pune. I am trying not to hunch but it’s more comfortable when I do. Would probably be better to sit on the floor so I have back support but I don't want to distract everyone's writing by making sudden movements. I’m not supposed to stop writing but I do want to. I want to take in the interesting sights of this beautiful flat. The full floor is one flat. I want to close my eyes and listen to this calming music. It’s very background to your thoughts kind of music but it could also very well accompany me on solo cosy walks. I burnt my hand recklessly last weekend and I’m waiting to see how long it will be before it heals. ...

We coexist with the colourful civilizations beneath us While we may be above, and tell ourselves we are ahead While we may unlearn the ways we left behind While we may believe what's past is passed Our everyday existence depends on what it brought us We coexist with the souls from the old soil And they trail us and make their way back to our families as our own brood Souls older than ours and the Babies who look like old men are reminders of then We coexist with the comfort of the wisdom that came before us The farmers who only ever dutifully tilled the lands, their only dopamine hit the abundance of the harvest The mothers who only ever delighted in the all-consuming unthanked for labour of childcare The early astronauts who knew the importance of of looking up And the very first archaeologists who knew to uphold what's buried deep down

In a time where the virtue of patience is foresaken for speed Take the time to peel the pomegranate In a world where hard work is shunned and smart work is lauded Relish the opportunity to do it the long way and make mistakes Even if it means sometimes you will be outsmarted In a world where work that's visible is rewarded Do the invisible labour, the long nights, the slow, mindful creation of art that no AI can replicate The final sweetness of your reward will be invaluable In a world where there is no room for faltering Fail as much as you can, and pick yourself up Don't you forget, there are still many pomegranates to peel