My daughter asked me why had I named my blog, Sree. I thought this should've been my second post. I promise to keep this one short and precise.
This blog is my second born. The man frequently made advances to make her happen, while I denied being in the mood for it. And then one night, the time was ripe.
Okay, bad metaphor; but she was indeed created with a lot of love. It was during yet another bout of grey in my life, when she came, acted like a sponge and soaked in those free gaps of time. She contains all of me - my childhood, my dreams, my incessant metamorphosis of thoughts. Sree is like that old trinket box; I can pour her contents all atop my bed and leisurely search for the perfect pair of earrings for the day.
"Sree" refers to being powerfully beautiful. Used in several ways, this term happens to strike a chord every time she crosses my path. Being in a Bengali household, we often witness a pretty work of art called the "Sree", created with dough kneaded out of flour and coloured powder and modeled into shapes out of sheer creativity. It is then placed upon a plate and soaked in mustard oil. It forms a mandatory part of wedding, thread ceremonies and certain pujos. I do not have a picture of the Sree that Maa had made for Jagaddhatri Pujo last November, hence a watermarked internet photo for reference :
I named my first one Sree in the mind, when I felt the immense power she was inducing within me the moment I held her in my arms, famished and sweated out after 9 hours of labour. She was a pretty little one, patiently carved and added a lot of colour to the blue and grey labour room. Later, it was modified by her father into something longer with Sree in it; so the second time, I held on to the zeal and used the name to connect at a deeper level.
Sree is here to remind, not all greys are sad. The clouds, Maa's hair and our faithful 13 year old Santro Xing are some of the most powerful commitments I witness through grey. Life will showcase a grey wardrobe only to test how one can pair it with the right colour, before she walks the ramp. Aren't we "rangmanch ki kath-putliyan" (wooden dolls upon a stage) after all?
I know traditionally it should be Shree, as per the Devanagari spelling of the Sanskrit word. But I preferred to keep the homely, earthen touch to the pronunciation to keep the lines flowing, just like over tea mugs on a rainy afternoon.
Also, Sree evokes the most inspirationalpair of eyes. A photo which connects me to the word and the mother power behind it :
P.S : Mistake me not for a religious person. I visit temples and dargas and churches out of cultural curiosity, appreciation for architecture or tourism itineraries. I read the Gita, to find solace in uncanny similarities to some downhill drive at work or a sour discussion at the dining table. I define religion by sensational, high-giving, take-a-bow picks like Fire & Ice pizzas, Dhakai sarees, single malt scotch, F.R.I.E.N.D.S, terracotta, kajal and Kajol-SRK films.
Sree is the religion I found for myself.
This blog is my second born. The man frequently made advances to make her happen, while I denied being in the mood for it. And then one night, the time was ripe.
Okay, bad metaphor; but she was indeed created with a lot of love. It was during yet another bout of grey in my life, when she came, acted like a sponge and soaked in those free gaps of time. She contains all of me - my childhood, my dreams, my incessant metamorphosis of thoughts. Sree is like that old trinket box; I can pour her contents all atop my bed and leisurely search for the perfect pair of earrings for the day.
"Sree" refers to being powerfully beautiful. Used in several ways, this term happens to strike a chord every time she crosses my path. Being in a Bengali household, we often witness a pretty work of art called the "Sree", created with dough kneaded out of flour and coloured powder and modeled into shapes out of sheer creativity. It is then placed upon a plate and soaked in mustard oil. It forms a mandatory part of wedding, thread ceremonies and certain pujos. I do not have a picture of the Sree that Maa had made for Jagaddhatri Pujo last November, hence a watermarked internet photo for reference :
I named my first one Sree in the mind, when I felt the immense power she was inducing within me the moment I held her in my arms, famished and sweated out after 9 hours of labour. She was a pretty little one, patiently carved and added a lot of colour to the blue and grey labour room. Later, it was modified by her father into something longer with Sree in it; so the second time, I held on to the zeal and used the name to connect at a deeper level.
Sree is here to remind, not all greys are sad. The clouds, Maa's hair and our faithful 13 year old Santro Xing are some of the most powerful commitments I witness through grey. Life will showcase a grey wardrobe only to test how one can pair it with the right colour, before she walks the ramp. Aren't we "rangmanch ki kath-putliyan" (wooden dolls upon a stage) after all?
I know traditionally it should be Shree, as per the Devanagari spelling of the Sanskrit word. But I preferred to keep the homely, earthen touch to the pronunciation to keep the lines flowing, just like over tea mugs on a rainy afternoon.
Also, Sree evokes the most inspirational
P.S : Mistake me not for a religious person. I visit temples and dargas and churches out of cultural curiosity, appreciation for architecture or tourism itineraries. I read the Gita, to find solace in uncanny similarities to some downhill drive at work or a sour discussion at the dining table. I define religion by sensational, high-giving, take-a-bow picks like Fire & Ice pizzas, Dhakai sarees, single malt scotch, F.R.I.E.N.D.S, terracotta, kajal and Kajol-SRK films.
Sree is the religion I found for myself.
