Rekha's Ramblings

And just like that , my chapter as a “ Band Mom ” has come to an end. 🎶 They may continue to play in other ways (and I truly hope they do), but our marching band journey is now officially over. And oh, what a journey it has been. I am a self-proclaimed Band Mom, inside and out. All three of my children were in band, and two continued on to perform with their college marching bands. Yes… very proud mom moment! After-school activities were all new to me. I didn’t have access to extracurriculars when or where I grew up. But when my firstborn was in 8th grade, I watched his future high school band perform at a community event—and it was love at first sight.     So when he joined marching band as a freshman, I jumped in wholeheartedly, even with two little ones still in elementary school. I volunteered every chance I got—and the younger two came with me everywhere. It was no surprise that, when their turn came, they joined band too. One of them even served as Drum Major for...

As the year draws to a close, I find myself doing what I always do this time of year—pausing, reflecting about my blessings, losses; thinking about who stood by me, who drifted away, and what personal changes I can make as I step into a new year. Every story, every moment—happy or sad—has taught me something valuable. The year didn’t begin gently. It started with hurt, sadness, and the loss of a friendship of several years. It left a dull ache, one that wouldn't go away no matter how hard I tried. Yet, this same year also surprised me with immense joy as the months unfolded. January brought healing in unexpected ways. I traveled back home to India and spent precious time with my father, my sisters, and my family. Visiting the tea gardens of Kerala was the highlight of that trip. Standing there, surrounded by green hills and calm skies, I felt something settle inside me. It was exactly what my soul needed. February brought a dream come true. I stayed at The Taj Hotel in Mumb...

We  are  almost at the end of the year. A new year is only a couple of weeks away. It’s that time when we reflect, make new resolutions, and consciously cut away our losses,  what no longer serves us—especially what has cost us our peace of mind. This year, I was deeply affected by something we now casually call  ghosting . Ghosting , simply put, is when someone cuts off all communication without explanation. No conversation. No closure. No acknowledgment. Just silence. I was at the receiving end of this phenomenon, I was a  ghostee .   The  ghoste r   was someone I have known for years,  someone who had seen me at my  lowest, someone who claimed to know me, my soft spots, my struggles. Accepting that truth was incredibly hard. I felt a tremendous amount of sadness. One day we were talking for hours, and the very next day, they were gone. I found myself questioning everything. Were we  ever even friends? Was any of it real? The...

What Is Your Take on Ghosting? One day someone is part of your everyday life—your messages, your memories, your routines. And then one day… they’re gone. No explanation. No goodbye. Just silence. That silence has a name: ghosting . I have complicated feelings about ghosting. On one hand, I don’t believe I have intentionally ghosted anyone. On the other, I’ve been ghosted more times than I can count—by people I once called family, by best friends, by relationships I thought were safe. Ghosting, simply put, is when someone cuts off all communication without explanation. No conversation. No closure. No acknowledgment. Just silence. And that silence? It’s loud. When you’re being ghosted, the hardest part is not even knowing it’s happening at first.  Messages go unanswered.  Calls are ignored.  You replay conversations in your head, wondering what you said wrong, what you missed, what changed.  That confusion is often more painful than the loss itself. I want to say this ...

30 Years of Marriage This month, we are celebrating 30 years of being married, 30 years of togetherness. My husband and I grew up in India where your religion, cast, the language you speak mattered, still does. We came from two different backgrounds;  two different religions, two different cultures , and two different languages. Back then, everyone said we would never make it. The odds of us making it were stacked against us. But look at how far we have come. We defied those odds and here we are, for better or worse, in sickness and in health. Was it perfect? Of course not. We’d be lying if we said it was. We were barely out of college when we got married. I moved to the U.S. first, and he followed me soon after. There were no rules, no roadmaps, no elders to guide or interfere. We were figuring it out as we went. We made plenty of mistakes, stumbled, grew, and evolved (our kids might challenge the “matured” part!). When our children were born, we made the difficult decisio...

 It’s almost back-to-college time for many of us in the USA. This morning, I drove my daughter back to campus—just the two of us. Her twin brother left a couple of days ago to prepare for band camp; this is his second year being one of the drum majors. This is their final year. Both of them are excited. They are happy to return to the campus, their other HOME , their happy place , and I am grateful that they are doing well and have found a happy place. They are going through some “happiness/sadness” as well; this being their last year performing in a marching band, may be their final school year.    We know the drill by now—move the boxes in, run to the grocery store, stock a few shelves, hug, goodbye. And then, drive away. The tears couldn’t come any quickly on the ride back home, in the car—lots of them.  After three months of having them home, coming back to the house was not the same. Our evenings had been filled with music, my middle child at t...

  Recently, a friend, Anna,  shared a writing prompt with me —  “ The Ponderings of a Tree .” This post  is inspired by that prompt.  I love nature — the flowers, the trees. Growing up in India, the tall and majestic trees of my childhood were mango, tamarind, coconut, and guava.  My siblings and I used to climb up on some of them when we were little.  I do not have any pictures of those. Here, in the US, they are Oak, sycamore, Elm, Maple, Magnolia  and I don't know some of their names. But my connection to them hasn’t changed one bit. I still feel drawn to them.  And when I see one, my instinct is simple: go hug that tree. Here are a few pictures of those.     So when she shared the above prompt,  the words  just flowed . This is my first time writing a poem.    The Ponderings of a Tree Come here my child, what’s bothering you? You look sad, weary. Talk to me, tell me about it. Share ...