MAY WE PROTECT EACH OTHER

MAY WE PROTECT EACH OTHER

So, I send 12 rakhis home this time too. Nah actually 1 more than usual. The extra one for my little, soon-to-turn 6 nephew.  In a few paragraphs from here, I will address that addition.

For the clueless, Rakhis are strings (often decorated) tied on the forearms of brothers seeking or thanking them for the protection they provide to our beings. Us, here, meaning us girls/women as sisters. In some cultures in India, it is also tied to fathers and uncles.

The 12 rakhis (minus 1), I send, are for my own older brother and cousins and family friends.

 Yes I send them every year, mostly without fail. And I wonder every year why I do it. I would love to believe I am my own protector, the only person on whose arms I should tie the string is myself  (like the latest Ford Ecosport advert). But I still sent, and probably will continue sending.

This time, though, while posting them, I found my answer and here I raise another question. Let me talk about the answer first, that one being more important. I usually send them rakhis because they like it, they feel loved and respected, and may be important, and are reminded of their "duty" towards me.

Now, my 6-year-old, little one. Dennis, I will address all of its through you. I don't need a special day to express this to you, but I will take the opportunity.
Please know: I can protect you, if you need; I will protect you, if you need.  At your 6 and when your 60!

I stress on the "need" and mention the "can" and "will" because many times you may doubt I can and that I will. Because, your aunt is a Woman. She has been "seeking" your dad's protection for ever, so for you to doubt her capabilities, mental and physical, is but natural.  But, please know, when she sends those raksha bandhans, she is making a statement too. She is promising her brothers of her constant support and "protection". I know of many friends who do extend those gestures, whether they get it in return or not. Financially, materially, emotionally. They will bring the world down to ensure their loved ones are safe and protected.

So its not your job alone.

A question to you now, or when you begin understanding what this piece is all about: Will you in turn, some day, tie one on mine or on Mom's and Grand-ma's may be? Even if you begin questioning the idea of Rakhi or Raksha Bandhan, in some point in time, I will be happy if you do. My brothers may or may not, but will you?

It will make happy, for once at least, to be recognised as an equal. The one who shares responsibilities of "protection" and support, besides other things, in her own home.

Will you then do something to make me happy?

I smile.

LOVE
-- Rosemary Marandi

MAY WE PROTECT EACH OTHER

So, I send 12 rakhis home this time too. Nah actually 1 more than usual. The extra one for my little, soon-to-turn 6 nephew.  In a few paragraphs from here, I will address that addition.

For the clueless, Rakhis are strings (often decorated) tied on the forearms of brothers seeking or thanking them for the protection they provide to our beings. Us, here, meaning us girls/women as sisters. In some cultures in India, it is also tied to fathers and uncles.

The 12 rakhis (minus 1), I send, are for my own older brother and cousins and family friends.

 Yes I send them every year, mostly without fail. And I wonder every year why I do it. I would love to believe I am my own protector, the only person on whose arms I should tie the string is myself  (like the latest Ford Ecosport advert). But I still sent, and probably will continue sending.

This time, though, while posting them, I found my answer and here I raise another question. Let me talk about the answer first, that one being more important. I usually send them rakhis because they like it, they feel loved and respected, and may be important, and are reminded of their "duty" towards me.

Now, my 6-year-old, little one. Dennis, I will address all of its through you. I don't need a special day to express this to you, but I will take the opportunity.
Please know: I can protect you, if you need; I will protect you, if you need.  At your 6 and when your 60!

I stress on the "need" and mention the "can" and "will" because many times you may doubt I can and that I will. Because, your aunt is a Woman. She has been "seeking" your dad's protection for ever, so for you to doubt her capabilities, mental and physical, is but natural.  But, please know, when she sends those raksha bandhans, she is making a statement too. She is promising her brothers of her constant support and "protection". I know of many friends who do extend those gestures, whether they get it in return or not. Financially, materially, emotionally. They will bring the world down to ensure their loved ones are safe and protected.

So its not your job alone.

A question to you now, or when you begin understanding what this piece is all about: Will you in turn, some day, tie one on mine or on Mom's and Grand-ma's may be? Even if you begin questioning the idea of Rakhi or Raksha Bandhan, in some point in time, I will be happy if you do. My brothers may or may not, but will you?

It will make happy, for once at least, to be recognised as an equal. The one who shares responsibilities of "protection" and support, besides other things, in her own home.

Will you then do something to make me happy?

I smile.

LOVE
-- Rosemary Marandi

Your Leftover

The sea in the darkness of the night
The receding water; drawn to the moon somewhere else
The awe inspiring skyline, home to someone else
From my side of the world, they are not too far away

I could touch the waters from where I sit
I sleep under the starry night
I walk on what other men throw away -
their dreams, their secrets, their pride
yet mine is the path you would never want to walk

When morning comes, when the ride faces me, I will begin
That journey towards you --
clean your glass house, bear your scorn,
make your food, protect your being
I will still be your stranger, a person from the dirt near the sea

I will return to the footpath, where only I can be
Stare at the moon, wish it was my bread
you will silently sometimes put your spares somewhere near me,  and feel happy
I will wake up to a moon, I can no longer devour
I will always, yes always be your leftover

The rain you sing to, sinks me
The sun you wish for, burns my will
I see you looking at me from your window up there
I don't wonder what you think, do you care what I imagine?
Yet I will tell you - I imagine being your equal
I wait for the sea
-- Rosemary Marandi