Lights out!

A part of the Bethany neighborhood has been in the dark since 6 a.m this morning. It is about 8:30 a.m right now and the morning rays are unwillingly, grudgingly trying to seep in through the windows, throwing light on the dark house, waking up each room one by one, turning dark blobs of furniture into more recognizable and familiar shapes. The hallways and staircase remain in the dark - unaware of the morning that has commenced in the rest of the house.

Our nine year old was beyond excited. It was all a big adventure for her. She came to my room and excitedly whispered, "this is just like your childhood. Can we make wax flowers?" 

"No. You have to get ready and go to school," was my killjoy reply. "Schools are open," I said thankfully and dryly.

Still excited, she wore her headlamp and danced about the home, trying to be a human strobe light. Fun? Yes. For a little while. Till we got bustling, trying to get her to school on time. 

She seemed tad disappointed. For we had recently chatted (over candle light dinner,mind you, with all the lights in our house turned off), about the frequent power cuts in my childhood.

 I told her of frequent power cuts, of having studied for exams using candle lights and flashlights. My mind went back and told her how kids in the neighborhood would get together in candle light, and play games, especially song games (bhendya), which involved singing (badly - so perfect for me), bollywood songs in teams. It was loud and noisy and fun even if it ended mostly in arguments.

I told her of how my sisters and I would make wax roses from the candles that were lit. (I have one very creative sister). We would tilt the candle (the long stemmed ones) and make a drop of wax, then scrape it off quickly and carefully, while it was still warm and malleable and pinch it into a petal shape. Once we made a bunch of petals, we (my sister mostly) would join them together by melting the ends and binding them together quickly and deftly to form a flower. And there was our beautiful translucent rose. Some got stems, some were painted... I believe my sister made beautiful candles with wax roses soldered on the sides.

These were the fun/creative memories my daughter heard about. 

But our morning was not such. Even if it started fun, I turned into the customary repeating machine - eat your cereal, eat your cereal, eat your cereal, don't dawdle, don't dawdle, don't dawdle, wash your face, put some lotion, you have food stuck... 

No we didn't make wax roses she requested. I don't know that we'll ever make wax roses. I don't know if I have that kind of patience or calm or creativity in me anymore. If anyone is inspired to make them, do invite my daughter.

But I felt a little bad as she went off to school and I wished I were as fun as before, as calm, as not-so-overwhelmed, as not-so-tired or flustered.

No. We didn't make wax roses. I mostly shooed her around, got flustered with trying to light the stove, worried about the food in the fridge, the garage door opener, fussed her to layer up and stay warm... You get the gist.

Is it the sense of responsibility or overwhelm, or lack of energy that has turned me into this "let's-not-make-wax-roses" person? Do I see more of the problems now than the possibilities? Am I more in touch with the lets-now-deal-with-this-crisis? Is that making me view more things as 'somewhat crisis'?

I charged my phone using the car charger and have a small gnawing worry about the food in the fridge. Hmm... If it weren't this cold, and if the heater were working, I suppose I could plod through every tub of ice-cream in there. Why in the world do we have so much ice-cream anyways?

And I just realized that although I'm typing this away on my iPad, I can't post it till I get my wifi back... Hmm... The coffee shop will serve me coffee and wifi and will have the heat on. And going to the gym... ahem... only to shower... Yay! I finally see some value to that gym membership.

And there I go again... Looking at the problems, sensing the worries, being more in touch with the problems than possibilities. But being aware of it, and seeing the humor seems to be helping - even if only for this moment. For after all, that warm coffee shop with its promise of twirly pipes of steam from a mug and wifi followed by a nice hot shower in the gym make me smile - well, at for now...

Sent from my iPad