That’s my kitchen table this morning. There’s the apple cake I baked yesterday. My coffee. A yam I don’t know what to do with. A bowl of oranges. And linen embroidered by my grandmother long before I was born.

I just noticed how many round things I’ve put together there. Circle on circle. Spheres and orbits. I hadn’t realised I’d done that. I have a terrible cold – stayed up the night coughing – so I don’t know what I’m doing anyway, but there might be some subliminal therapy in circular things. Tai chi. Yin yang. Cake.

There’s something else circling around in my head. A poem Chotto-ma wrote yesterday. She’s been writing a lot. Suddenly, fiercely. Writing, writing, writing. Stories, poems, and a movie script called ‘The Blues’ where two lonely girls born with blue hair find each other and becomes friends.

This is her first poem, complete with her spellings. It made my cold better.

by Chotto-ma
Love is ourΒ 
own naicher.
Love is our
Love is evrything.
Love is what
we like.

[Glossary: naicher = nature. We like to keep our spellings nacheral.]

28 thoughts on “Love

  1. We are twin-ing! I have a cold. Blogged an apple cake yesterday. Little girl made up her own song- a Christmas song where people get 'love potions'. It's all good. and it's all absolutely truly beautiful.

  2. 'tis the season, isn't it – the cold, the cakes and the LOVE! Yes, it's all good.
    And I do love a good 'love potion'. S needs to market her 'love potion' well; I think she might be onto something. Your retirement plan, Debjani πŸ™‚

  3. True! We learn so much about life from kids, they are so rooted always. I wish we could capture this and keep it somewhere safe in their heart so its not lost as they grow older.

  4. You're so right, Meera. I wish we could keep some of that innocence in us too, or borrow for them a little – it's much needed in today's world.

  5. It was lovely to read about your daughter's poem and of course, the poem itself – and you have beautifully preserved it through the medium of this blog post. It especially resonated with me as I started writing a lot of poetry when I was age 8 and my mother meticulously preserved each and every one that I had written…and I ended up publishing three poetry volumes during my school-years! I have long since stopped writing poetry though but looking at your post and this poem redolent of innocence and utter freshness took me down memory lane. I have been thinking a great deal lately of returning to writing poetry and who knows what 2015 has in store?:) Hope you're now feeling better!

  6. Hi Priyanka, how lovely that your mother kept them all, and that you saw them published for posterity. Wonderful!
    I used to write a lot of poetry too – the angst-ridden, existential poetry of a teenager – but that old book has long been lost.
    I hope 2015 brings you back to your writing; I don't think poetry ever really leaves you. It's probably lurking close at hand.

  7. Yes, there's nothing like poetry to remind you of what's important.
    I need to slip in more poetry-reading between the novels and short stories. I used to when I was younger.

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