Where the Mountains Remember Me!
Some vacations are for rest. Others are for remembering who you are. It’s been a while since I wrote. The kids were on vacation, which meant round-the-clock duty for me so writing had to wait. But I’m deeply grateful to those of you who checked in, asking why I hadn’t posted these past few weeks. You reminded me that this space matters, and that means a lot. Lately, I’ve been reminiscing about my childhood vacations. Back then, holidays meant either staying at home or visiting relatives. We were in Munnar, where school breaks were different. Instead of summer holidays, we had monsoon holidays which means weeks off because of the heavy rains. And oh, how I loved the rains. The cozy comfort of being indoors, wrapped in my favorite blanket, sipping hot tea and watching TV while it poured outside and that was pure heaven. Even today, a rainy day still brings that feeling back. Once a year, our parents would take us to our native place. It was a big deal. We packed lots of clothes and alway...