Skip to main content

UN-PRINCESS ME !

 


The tones and hues outside are those of a vibrant spring. Mid winter rains and chill have been dismal this year and the air is unusually clogged with a dry spell, boiling us night and day.

While November for me has been a month of transformations and dragging transitions, it's also been an odyssey on many planes and of varying degrees. 

Shedding my vulnerability and donning an invisible suit of armor has been one of them to face my life lessons head on.

When it comes to me, the Universe has had a wacky sense of humor these past few months. Just like an impish child, it doesn't like me sitting still or getting cozy in my comfort zone. 

Dear Diary! Dear Diary! Dear Diary! 

Oh Dear Oh Dear! 

Where do I even begin? 

I've been hopping from one merry ride onto another in a maddening spree.

It was the finest of times, it was the crummiest of times. It was the age of triumphs, of glory, of celebrations, of reunions and of milestones which marked my parents' 50th wedding anniversary in May and I had the good fortune to attend it.

 Hand in hand arrived episodes of awful and rude shocks, chapters of uncertainty, somber moments in unnerving waves. Also those of rising hope, unparalleled faith, steady support and timely miracles embraced us, never forsaking us even in the most hell breaking stances of trials, tests and tribulations.

Amidst all the endless chaos, there was one formidable and gritty woman who held us all together tenderly, sheltering us like a well rooted oak.

My mother!

Mothers as we all know are worn to a frazzle, yet, an iron will is their second skin and do they don nerves of steel with elan! Even with an overly fatigued frame and an overworked fragile state of mind, she is the majestic force to reckon with— the one who gave me her all–spending 3 straight sleepless nights meditating and praying just before my open heart ASD closure surgery back on Aug 21st whilst I was in the OT and the next 2 days in ICU, additionally attending to my aging father.

Instances like these make me wonder if God sculpted her out of an exquisite mould and the kind of lucky stars that had aligned for me to come into existence as her daughter.

A daughter whom she dotes on, the one for whom she takes on the world single handedly like a fierce lioness—(I kid you not) and the one who gives it her all for me even with her broken down, bone tired, frail health yet with a selfless, steely demeanor. 

Dear Diary, it's November 21st since and my initial confinement post op comes to end on this blessed after exactly 3 crucial months. On October 15, the sternum binder was off on my surgeon's instructions and the very next day I packed it in my suitcase with glee after sanitizing it off all the aura it held.

Then came the big, big day! Nov 7th. The day of the final review to get my Travel Fitness Clearance Certificate. A spate of tests followed after which, meet ups with my cardiologist, neurologist and one of the surgeons went like a breeze. 

All was good to go. My painstaking efforts to recover as quickly as possible had paid off. Medication dosage was reduced and the paperwork was signed by all of them in a jiffy. Goodbyes were said and that was the last of any hospital I ever wanted to visit in my lifetime. 

Mercilessly, the amusement park which had wandered into me knew no respite. It hurled me from one giddy ride onto another dizzying one, the moment I was back on my feet all stable and bright-eyed.

****

Oct 26, 2024 Dear Diary, was a day when I had gone along with my mother to Sai Mandir on one of our regular visits. This time especially to ask for his hallowed blessings for my final review with doctors and his protection for my travel back home to Singapore without a hitch.

There was our life-like, king size benevolent divinity sitting regally, smiling down at the both of us. Strangely, for a Saturday evening, the temple was devoid of all devotees except for the priest at the sanctum.

We had all the time in the world to absorb his grace and to lay down our tired foreheads overloaded with baggage of our amplified woes and distresses upon his symbolic feet etched out of silver. I was all raring to fly back, looking forward to reuniting with my Babylou on 23rd Nov. Little did we know that the almighty had other plans.

Father unexpectedly had to be admitted into a palliative care on 9th November for cellulitis treatment and his stay over at the home for complete recovery for a month. That rocked our boat which was already on treacherous waters. 

Within less than a week there was good news and there was a marked improvement on his legs under the care of the dedicated nurses. I would still be able to carry on with my plans to fly home…

Yet, the roadblocks seemed to take a fancy to me. On Nov 14, severe dehydration due to his own error demanded his admittance into ICU, as a basic drip of glucose and saline wasn't recommended for his cardiac issues at the home. He would have to be administered life saving drugs which are permitted only under the supervision of a cardiologist in hospitals.

Swift arrangements were made by the home to rush him in an ambulance, with mother and I riding along with him after which he spent 3 days in intensive care. 

Mother was almost wrung out of her already depleting energy. Trips back and forth to the hospital twice a day to meet the  doctors on rounds and on their availability drained us on the mental threshold more than the physical exertion.

The waiting…the anxiety…my still delicate yet difficult recovery was a borderline breaking point for me at that moment.

On 18th November Dear Diary, he was discharged from ICU and shifted into the room and for the time being while we await discharge from the hospital which was supposed to be yesterday, mother has been bunking in with him. God bless her grit and inner strength!

Meanwhile, my plans to leave on the 23rd was scrapped without a second thought. The sole reason for my choice of date was to be with Babylou who's Third Semester Finals are all of next week and from whom I've been away for the last 8 months, torn between this family and that.

I wouldn't have lived it down if I’d left on the 23rd. No filial child would take that call where parents are a subject of concern.

While the Universe isolates me from every loved one from every corner and arena, I'm sure it holds me safe in it's arms and there's something unseen happening for my greatest good.

No, I don't feel smothered in this empty house. It's my childhood home. These walls know me, comfort me. The surroundings shield me. I feel safe and protected by the energies of my dear ones which still linger in the air…in every room. It's my turn to take over, overseeing the security of my parents' home.

Things definitely happen at the right time. There couldn't have been any other timing.

If things had gone awry with father before I was up on my feet and scurrying like before, mother would have been shattered and helpless all at once!

On my soul journey which has been on a crazy spin this year, I feel like I'm graduating and getting double promotions in these life lessons. Testing times are here to help me  evolve in my soul purpose, to see how I hold myself and my loved ones when I reach the end of my tethers. And during the course of this particular module, I've done wonderfully well, so say everyone who know me closely. 

I've had long time caring next door neighbors who are a knock on the door or a phone call away , keeping a lookout for my safety and well-being, concerned about me staying all alone after a major surgery. 

Eternally grateful to mother’s cousins—-aunts on the spiritual path who give me stability and sanity of mind with practical,  yet simple advice in the bigger scheme of things which are not in my control.

The takeaway from this phase of my life has been to let go of control. I stand humbled beneath the vast universe, surrendering myself to the celestial master plan. 

I surrender 

I surrender 

I surrender 

I know you have my back and you're in charge of your naive child. I'm but an insignificant speck in your mighty world.

As the grander play unfurls, the Universe holds the gossamer tapestry of my life's blueprint with its intricately embroidered designs and patterns. While I only see frayed fibers and snagged threads at the moment, it says—Hold on! I'm still working on it. Wait until you see the masterpiece I've created for you!

Winds of change and the sands of time keep juggling their ever changing plans and I keep building on my resilience. Do I have a choice?

Un-Princess me! 

I'm my mother's replica nourished by her warrior blood. Grit runs in us!

©️ Sangeetha Kamath 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ANAM CARA

The waves are soft and frothy. Laced with gossamer frills tenderly kissing the tips of my toes covered with the grainy sand of the rugged seashore where I'm sitting, wistful. A gust of briny breeze tousles my hair as I gaze as far as my eyes can see.  A flock of terns wheel overhead, their sharp, shrill cries punctuating the air as they dive and swoop over the surfs. A lone frigate bird, its crimson belly dazzling like a jewel skims majestically above, its long, slender wings outstretched as it rides the thermals high above the ocean. I absorb the sights and sounds of the late afternoon while absentmindedly scooping seashells beside me. As the afternoon phases, the furthest rim of the ocean is fringed in a gilded hem and the sleepy sun yawns, its dipping glow streaking the sky in a mellow tangerine and warm cherry. As I continue sitting there, the ships and yachts appear --specks of light from the portholes glimmering in the distance, reminding me of the phrase “That ship has saile...

A-Z Blogging Challenge Theme Reveal

Hey everyone! April is almost upon us and it reminds me of my childhood summer vacations, visiting my cousins in different cities, playing with them and watching movies late into the nights, brunches, more outdoor skips and hops and when the boiling sun drove us indoors, how the tangy, icy lemonade pitchers awaited us.  April is also about April showers, new beginnings and of late —the month of blogging! I'm excited to announce that I'll be participating in the A-Z April Blogger Challenge, starting on April 1st! This challenge is all about pushing myself to create new content, connect with fellow bloggers, and have immense fun while doing it. Throughout the month, I'll be posting daily(except on Sundays) on a variety of topics, ranging from personal reflections to mixed random bags of thoughts especially bordering on memoirs and non fiction. That's something I excel in apart from writing fantasy and the paranormal.  2025 will see my blog Sanguine Allegory bustling with ...

BOKETTO

  In my quiet moments, I pause the world from its frantic pace. In that stillness, I wistfully gaze into the distance and just let things unfurl as they please. I let my thoughts flow, absorbing nothing. Internalizing nothing. And just like that, the strands of tightly woven twine untangle and the knots come loose. Today, as usual, I found myself caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily grind. I was rushing to get things done, stressing about deadlines, and feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of tasks on my to-do list. But then, I took a deliberate pause. With a deep breath, I stretched, stepped away from my desk, and walked out onto my balcony. Leaning on the railing, I looked down at the familiar lanes of my neighborhood, twirling around the corners behind the blocks of apartments.  The park and playground stood deserted at noon amid the cluster of flowering trees and surrounded by the hedges lining the curbs. I gazed at the sky, feeling the warm sun on my face and ...

GROWN, FLOWN AND HOME ALONE!

      GROWN, FLOWN AND HOME ALONE! The scent of sweet spring is here! Buds and blooms add dashes of color as the grayscale backdrop bids farewell. While the hush of icy twilights were a sweet lullaby and hazy halos of the winter moon sparkled away, our tender snuggles under the downy, weighted quilts were cozy and warm spaces. Dreams floated in and out—whispering their nostalgia and wistfulness. They hummed a timeless tune of a sacred and cherished bonding of a mother and her cub. The sunlight shone a pale peach behind my closed eyelids before they fluttered open to a bright eve of a spring dawn. The rush of warm breeze rustling the pendulous Silver Anne pothos, heady fragrances wafting from rosemary sprigs and the calming lavender stalks roused the lethargic bear in me from my hibernation.  A well deserved wintering later, life is once again a delectable stew bubbling away. Of a different flavor this time.  **** My den these days is a no sound zone. All day. Un...

CHẠ̀WKHRĀW (Chxw̒kh rxw̒)

  As usual, at the dot of 8 pm, the Guzheng plays its stirring chords, the haunting notes beginning a slow sweep, rising to a powerful crescendo and alternating with a tranquil ebbing of melody surfing me along the waves of soul-stirring, yet a serene stretch of an hour every day.  I make it a point to sit right beside my dining room window to bask in this lulling sound therapy as my neighbor downstairs diligently plays on this zither, oblivious to my admiration. What a luxury it is to have a live orchestra while I savour the last meal of the day. It's a welcome distraction to the otherwise jarring squabbling of the playful neighbourhood children.  The Chạ̀wkhrāw of this– that the musical household might move one day is a foreboding thought. Foreshadowing this, deeply ingrained in me is the shattering news I had received upon returning to Singapore after an 8 month absence here.  The Ramadan festive season was fast approaching at the end of March but the apartm...