Skip to main content

Packed Lunches


Mimi's photoblog of lunches she packs for her school going kids had been inspirational for me when I first saw it. I pack J's lunch for her every morning, try to make it aesthetically pleasing but come nowhere close to Mimi. She is gifted. But the idea of packing a lunch that looks different each day, getting children excited about what they might discover in their lunch box is definitely worth emulating.

The act of preparing and packing a lunch for J, takes me back to my own childhood. I thought then that my mother had the perfect life, that I was at its epicenter and her universe revolved around me.

Most of those illusions were dispelled with time and maturity. I learnt how she overcame the challenges of her circumstances to preserve the illusion of harmony amid chaos and create things of beauty mainly using her imagination. I may not have always been the focal point of her existence like I thought but I was always abundantly loved.

There is to me a certain Zen about arranging baby carrots, grapes and broccoli and make it all look like a smiley face; just like a sand Mandala blown away, the ride on the school bus will undo your efforts completely.

Comments

Anonymous said…
You should also check out Vegan Lunch Box:
http://veganlunchbox.blogspot.com/

Popular posts from this blog

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t...

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques...