Continuing on our journey through #womenshistorymonth, I pay tribute to my mother. A woman of great personal integrity, monumental courage, and selfless beyond comprehension, her memory remains a beacon of encouragement when my spirit is low and I search for comfort.
My earliest recollection of my mother is her low sweet voice humming. She could be chopping vegetables, fixing our hair, embroidering fantastic designs on tablecloths, pillowcases, sofa covers; stitching our clothes, knitting sweaters. She was also a voracious reader, reading late into the night when her chores were over and we safely in bed.
After leaving India, any time I heard a Tagore song on the radio, which was as infrequent as sunshine during monsoon, it was my mother’s face that leaped into my mind. I would relive my childhood then. During the summer vacations, afternoons were spent indoors to escape from the hot wind and dust raging outside. Our mother made it all worthwhile, however, by singing Tagore songs she had written down in a book. How I wish I could see that book one more time, touch it, and perhaps, by that one single gesture turn the clock back. When we are young, we take our parents for granted, thinking they are here to stay forever.
My poem “Book of Songs” is dedicated to my mother. I have included it in my book TWENTY TWO FOR 22, a collection of short stories, poetry, and travel vignettes. Visit my website to read the poem – www.purabisinhadas.com
Stay safe and keep well.
#womenshistorymonth #poetry #literature #amwriting #amreading #prosepoetry #community #family #inspiration
Whoever said that women must pack a zillion clothes and shoes when they travel, cannot be right. I travel with just a backpack. You just need to know how and what to pack. No waiting at the luggage carousel for your suitcases to arrive.
We stay in hotels. Not hostels. I have nothing against them but a hostel is not for us.
We try to book a hotel close to the main sights, and subway. Oh yes, we love to ride the subway in a strange city. It’s the best way to try out the local dialect.
I am sharing some pictures of a trip to Spain. It’s a beautiful place to visit but we only had about ten days to spare. What a shame! But we didn’t have to lug heavy suitcases from city to city.
We arrived in Barcelona, checked in to our hotel which was fortunately close to Sagrada Familia. After freshening up, we walked to Sagrada and since we had booked our tickets online, we could bypass the long lineup at the gate. Next morning we took the bus to Segovia and Avila - absolutely breathtaking views - then returned to Barcelona that evening. Next morning we were off to Santiago de Compostela by train. After a lovely stay we boarded another train to Madrid, stayed a few days, did the sights, then took the train back to Barcelona to catch our flight home.
All the while with only a backpack. It can be done. Try it.
I am sharing some pictures from our trip to Spain.
Stay safe and well.
#womenshistorymonth #authorlife #travel #amwriting #amreading
The word “adventure” has that magical quality, an out of this world call the human spirit must answer. No matter what lies ahead.
The unknown is attractive, seductive. Can be a sublime experience, sometimes.
Foreign lands leap up from the pages of a book, render us helpless with a deep craving to go out and explore.
When I hear words spoken in a language I don’t recognize, it sparks curiosity. I must know more.
Each country visited, so far, has been a treasure trove.
Petra in Jordan is one such. One of the seven wonders of the world. Each grain of sand its own story. Words need not be spoken. The hot wind sings its own song.
Red rocks threw out challenge after challenge, I climbed higher and higher, emboldened by the sheer majesty of sky, rocks, sand, and universal energy pulsating over all. Not unlike writing. It was up to me to tell the stories that had been in me all this time. Rocks. Yes, those sandstone rocks of Petra urged me to keep moving forward, show up at my desk every day, write, share my writing.
After a visit to the lantern themed silk road exhibition in Toronto a few years back, my feelings for the majestic Petra which had lain dormant, rose to its full stature, reminding me of the great adventure I had there. With the result, the wildly sensory adventure of fourteen year old Mariam who is the central character in my prose poetry “The Legend of Mariam – the one who followed a caravan.”
That exercise turned into a deeply contemplative process.
I included “The Legend of Mariam – the one who followed a caravan” in the poetry section of my book TWENTY TWO FOR 22. Let Mariam tell you in her own words, her adventures in the desert. This desert can be anywhere in the world.
We feel without seeking. These feelings are spontaneous - the best kind.
Photo Credit - Purabi Sinha Das
Rocks of Petra
Twenty Two For 22
"Launched during the pandemic when borders were closed and
journeys of any kind all but a dream, Twenty Two for 22 is a portal,
a passageway, a glimpse into another world, bringing you to your
greatest passion of exploring global cultures and provides food
for the soul; one page at a time. Filled with nostalgia, heartache,
adventure and magic, Twenty Two for 22 creates an escape, one
which is above all filled with human stories that encapsulates a
range of emotions including vulnerability that allows for a real
connection across generations and time."
-Umbereen Inayet, Artistic Director and Curator, City of Toronto
to my blog where I publish my personal essays, art, photography, and insights on writing, my culture, and life.