butterfly. babies. love.

it was a grocery store in buffalo.  and it was a church in laguna woods.  and it was an elementary school in uvalde, texas.  it is all the times in between and all the times before.  and God please help us, it is all the times after.  i am left with my mind in a jumbled mass of arguments and anger, my heart a knot of ache and pain. i am left with my soul stretching its voice to plea. i am left as i attempt to send my children off to school and myself to walk into my own classroom with my will torn to shreds... barely a thread hanging onto any purpose at all. i am left weeping before bed, sobbing on the way to work, shuddering at the thought of this happening and america continuing on like usual.  i am left scrolling through pictures of beautiful humans that will never breathe again, left reading posts of those who miss the laughs of their cherished, left staring at photos of special occasions, a frozen moment that was supposed to be one in a series of many ...

My mama has always been beautiful. It is a beauty that is natural and effortless and is the type of beauty that filled my heart with longing when I was a child. I can recall staring at how flawless the even color of her skin was, how adorable the few freckles were on her cheeks, how symmetrical her nose was. I remember thinking how absolutely perfect she looked in a sari, her pleats folded so pristinely, and the tuck of material into her waist seamless and smooth.   I would often feel the softness of my mother’s hands. Hands that had delicate fingers that moved with precision and purpose. Hands that kneaded chapati dough and even held tight to a lawn mower. No matter what she did, her hands were always soft, always welcoming, always beautiful. But she never liked to focus on her own physical beauty. My mother’s true beauty comes from within.  I understood certain aspects of this inner beauty when I was a child. The beauty that comes from her servant’s heart and her wor...

My children are my favorite humans. They are loving, kind, creative, and funny. They have great memory for the smallest details and appreciate the littlest gestures. They respect teaching and learning in a very sincere way.  They fill my days with joy and meaningful reflection. They have so much to offer the world around them. ...And they strive for perfection. I see a battle of perfection ensuing in my house. It manifests itself in the way I correct my children over that smallest detail or make "suggestions" when they show me their creative works. I feel it in my bones when I fight the need to compare them to their relatives or even to myself at their age. This inner conflict  makes itself known when they get an answer marked incorrect and they are embarrassed (though they performed well above what was expected). But mainly, I see it in the way they simply crumble when they have had an error in judgment. When they see they have disappointed us in any way or they rep...

Here is what I have come to be reminded of: I am in a place of privilege. I have a home. My husband and children are in good health. We do not need routine appointments nor do we depend on medicines or life-saving treatments. Though work looks very different these days, I am still working. I can stay connected to my students and my fellow teachers. I am getting paid for this work, and I get to do my job from the safety of my home. We have enough technological devices for all of us to be learning, attending meetings, and teaching at the same time. This is privilege. We may not be considered wealthy in many circles, but to much of the world, we are. We have running water, and easy access to food and other necessities. While pandemic swirls, threatens, and hovers, I find that people like me must do more. Whether we have the means and strength to do it now or the inspiration and planning to do it in the future, we should be invested in our communities and people. We have to help how and ...

earlier this week, i had individual talks with each of my girls about martin luther king jr's life, his work, and his death. we often revisit his impact on society and the world, and every year their questions become more thoughtful. we discussed the difficulty of staying confident when those around you disagree with your stance, or what it really means to choose the progress of people over your own individual comfort and safety. we talked a lot about love, of sacrifice, and of walking humbly but living boldly. these conversations -- in which we celebrate the work done by mlk jr and the civil rights movement, and in which we listen to speeches and respond with smiles and tears and head nods, and in which we thank God for the divine service -- these conversations are beautiful and significant.  but there are many hard parts to these conversations also. there is the part that must acknowledge deep division and hatred among people. i cannot simply say "that is how it ...

a few days ago in church, i was reminded of the latin phrase "imago dei" ... and this theological doctrine that humans were made in the image of God reminded me of the beauty that we, as humans, are connected to divinity. there is a splendid and powerful foundation in this belief that mankind, in some way, resembles the Almighty. i thought about what an understanding of this concept would do --  not only for my girls' evaluation of themselves, but for their understanding and treatment of those around them. my daughters, remember that you are fierce. you have a spirit of boldness and a truth that blazes brightly. you are special and set apart and chosen for this specific time in the history of the world. i truly believe that, and i pray you do too. you have been given a confidence and an assurance that you are going to be alright. no matter the circumstance or the obstacle, there will be opportunities to succeed and overcome. if you do not, that is okay too. in al...

i find myself thinking a lot about the condition of this world, of this nation, and of the hearts of man.  i just open my eyes and really look around or open my ears to truly listen, and i cannot help but face the reality of evil. the reality of corruption. the reality of prejudice. the reality of inequality. the reality of bigotry. the reality of entitlement. the reality of self-righteousness. the reality of immorality. the reality of sin. i have struggled with the presence of these realities for a significant part of my life, and  maybe to some degree for all of my life. but now i struggle with them beyond my identity as a woman, or a child of immigrants, or an educator, or an indian-american, or a Christ follower. i struggle with these harsh realities as a mother. you see, we are trying our hardest to raise three people who will one day change their world. i believe that they can, and i pray that they will. these three little girls have hope in their souls and e...

my dearest elisea, you are our youngest. you are our forever baby and our little wonder. you are surrounded by love and adoration in our home. rocky has unending patience with you, your big sisters cannot get enough of your hilarious mannerisms, and daddy is clearly smitten. and me? i am consistently impressed and drawn to so many components of your complex personality. i find myself loving you in a special and profound way, on a daily basis. you see, little one, although you are our third child and our third girl, the experience of having you has brought something new to our lives. you are the youngest. you are not a twin. and so, you are different in many ways. you have an intuition about you, unlike i have seen in any other child your age. you are constantly the entertainer with your strong expressions and growing wit and humor. (you are currently on a mission to figure out what makes knock knock jokes so funny). you possess this strong maternal inclination and you lo...

You are six years old. And I will be forever thankful that I have known you outside of my womb for this long, that I have gotten the chance to watch the beginnings of your unique and dynamic journey, and that every single day our family has gained something special from you being in our lives. You are six years old. And I love so much of what that means. The parts that make me smile with the confidence of knowing you are still a small child. The parts of being six that make me take a deep breath and just soak in the moments of your innocence. You are six years old. And I hesitantly accept the parts that I do not completely love. The parts that make me look at your daddy with trepidation in the middle of one of your stories or questions. The facets of this age, of this growing up, that make me wince and tense up and struggle with letting you go. I know that you are only six. I see the way your face brightens when you point at a full moon or the proud smile when you re...

pictures and pictures and pictures.  some blurred by the swift movement of spontaneous laughter or sudden change in direction. some lit by bright eyes and wide smiles. some accidentally taken, by sticky-fingered sneaky hands. some grabbing the complexity of layers upon layers of color in the sky over Kerala and transforming it into tangible glory. some capturing the simplistic joy of running through the green grass of our backyard. some embodying the dreams of my parents and the faithfulness of a Mighty Creator. some attempting to freeze the exact moment i see a world of hope in the dark pupils of a small child's gaze in a busy village. some are posed and orchestrated to include all participants' best smiles and angles, all in coordinating colors. some are candid and realistic, no pattern or planning, just life.  some of these photographs will never be shared or rediscovered; some of them will not be looked at in the near future, maybe not for years and ye...

happy mother's day.... to the women who love their children from the moment they are born, and for the ones who slowly fall in love with their sweet little ones, like a beautiful slow waltz. to the women who have given birth, when things went just as planned, and to those whose entire pregnancy went against all odds, sometimes scary and sometimes trying, but working towards the perfect crescendo. to the women who prayed for a miracle and got it, and for those who are still praying, and still waiting. to the women who believed that life with children would be one way, and were shocked when it wasn't, and to the women who were somehow realistic with their expectations from the beginning, but were still surprised by the challenges and the beauty. to the women who have adopted or fostered, to the ones who have the special heart to love a child as their own, and the wisdom to know that when she has the ability to do that, that child truly is her own. to all the women who...

days have passed and seasons have turned and my children are growing... the past months have been filled with laughter brought on by joy, tears brought on by circumstance, decisions brought on by demand, and change brought on by necessity.  from the time i last posted, much has changed, shifted, or rearranged in our lives.  my two brave four-year-old children who entered private kindergarten were bombarded by one undesirable scenario after another and we were forced to pull them from their school. my still brave, resilient, and bright five-year-old girls are now thriving in a private pre-k that seems to be preparing them for their first year of public school kindergarten in the "big building" come august.  my littlest bubba is now walking and clapping and inserting herself into her older sisters' activities. she is independent most of the time, entertaining herself and priding herself on silly antics that make us laugh and cheer. she is headstrong, undeniably...

tomorrow my oldest girls start kindergarten. they will venture off into the world of formal education and begin a very special journey. along with learning about letters and numbers and other incredibly important basic concepts, they will begin to learn about the resilience of their character and the strength of their work ethic. i attempted to share small pieces of advice as they picked out their dresses and started filling their backpacks. as they grabbed their snacks and helped make their signs, i continued to talk about the important things. my advice fell into 4 main categories. for my girls, as they start kindergarten.... 1. be kind. personally, i feel that being nice is not that hard. it does not take too much commitment. it can last a few seconds and it is sometimes, simply, a sweet gesture at face value. you should be nice, of course, and you should always aim to be polite and make a good impression. but kindness requires a deep heartfelt choice. kindness demands act...

as the school year comes to a close, i think about what i would like to teach my girls... On Education: girls, i hope that the wide-eyed wonder with which you seem to approach every book these days, stays with you as you navigate through the educational institutions you attend on your journey. i pray that your curiosity grows with each course and each subject matter, that you investigate and explore and research and discover. i hope that you construct knowledge in your own unique ways and that you realize that knowledge is not absolute. i hope you always love literature and that you embrace the power of the written word. i hope that you find yourself through your own writings and awaken passions to travel and to study culture and to explore the world through great stories and poetry and treasured rhetoric. i hope that you acknowledge the beauty and complexity of science and math and history and other fields of study also. please respect your teachers. know that they h...

as i begin to write this entry, i look down on my lap to see a 15 week old beauty, nestled so sweetly and perfectly in a blanket, sleeping ever so peacefully on my lap. i am moved constantly by her delightful sounds and giggles, her undeniable cuteness, and the way her little mouth purses to attempt to speak, and then to pout, and then to smile and attempt to speak again. she has moved me by her pure innocence and her helplessness and her resilience, by her need to be near me and to hold me and to feel my skin and to hear my heartbeat. i think of her sisters and how often they have made me shed tears of joy and of wonder also. how they have moved me simply with one word, often said at just the right time or the awfully wrong time, and how their complex personalities and intense love often make my heart feel like bursting. i am moved by their passion for all that is good, and their intrigue about why things are wrong, their prayers and their screaming arguments, their logical banter ...

2015 will be a year of penning suggestions, prayers, advice for my girls. on love: love is not something simple. love is complex and it is most definitely worth waiting for. waiting is difficult, but it is necessary because you gain much knowledge and learn many lessons, all the while holding onto your own sense of independence and understanding of your unique place in this world. your daddy says that although it seems incredibly hard to wait for love, once you have it, you will see why it was so important. but, yes, it is hard when you are on the other side. i can tell you, with all honesty and sincerity, that love from a man is not something that you should be rushing towards; you should not move in that direction until you know your own value and your own worth, not until you understand that you are not defined by this world's standards of beauty or success or belonging. love can be once in a lifetime and it should be something that you pray about and fight for and wo...

elisea sara greeted us with smiley eyes and a knowing smirk. we are absolutely enamored with her. this pregnancy and elisea's birth was a bit different than what i had with viy and cai. there was a lot more associated with elisea joining us. there was more expectation, more activity, and more, dare i say, pressure.... you see, when viy and cai were in my womb, we had no idea what to expect. the miracle of pregnancy was wonderful and then the miracle of twins was another layer of amazement for us. it was more than we had ever believed for ourselves, and we were constantly in awe of what God was doing and knew that our world would change, but that change was unknown. this time around, there was an element of experience and components of knowledge that informed our decisions and activities. we tried to get as much time in with the girls and ensure that Christmas season would still be about enjoying the story of Christ's birth, and celebrating with a tree and lights and ...