Some six or seven years ago, on a crisp December morning I stood before the tiny temple I have at home, my hands folded in prayer. This small dialogue with God is my daily post-bath ritual. I put all my anxieties on hold for the space of a minute or two and recite a small …
I must begin with a warning: This one is going to be a completely all-about-me post. The thing is I am writing about twenty years ago, a time when my current twin muses weren’t even a thought. In fact, they were in full danger of not happening at all. Twenty years ago was so long …
We sit together, bent over their books. The twins and I. ‘I hate it’, says N, throwing down her pen. She knows I dislike the work ‘hate’ and so she says it again, ‘I hate this teacher and I hate this subject.’ For once, I refuse to rise to the bait deciding instead, that we …
6.15, says the kitchen clock. The sun is just lighting up the skies. I slide some butter on the hot pan, the sizzle sounding loud in the early morning quiet. I put in slices of bread quietening the sizzle, then turn the flame down and head off to wake the children. I find H sleeping …
A few Sundays back H and I happened to sit down together to watch Scent of a Woman. The film is about the relationship between Charlie, a young student and an old cantankerous ex-armyman played by Al Pacino. I won’t go into the entire story but what caught our attention was Charlie’s dilemma. At school …
The Lemon Tree Cafe is a far from perfect book but sometimes one might like a book despite its flaws. Sometimes all that matters is how a book makes you feel. This gave me hours of reading pleasure. And that counts for something.
