Blog, Blogger, Carrom and Kavin!

First and foremost, I'd like to thank everyone for your comments, suggestions, and concern for my emotional well-being in the previous post. It gives me a boost and energy to do something outside my regular activities, which keeps me continually occupied and ensures that I never have a dull moment or allow the dreary weather to cloud my cheery mood. I'm always an upbeat person who tries to grin even when things are unpleasant; even when things are tough, I keep an ear open for tiny notes of birds or other critters tapping around. 

Someone suggested I play Carrom, which was my childhood favorite. 

"Carrom is an Indian tabletop game that is immensely popular in the Indian subcontinent. It is widely played by families, including children, and at social occasions, with varying standards and rules in different places."

Most of our summer vacations were spent playing carrom (along with other games), and when our cousins visited home, we played carrom, but I don't remember touching the striker in the last ten years. I quit playing carrom when my cousins lost interest (because I can't play the game on my own), and I even lost my carrom board in a 2015 torrential downpour.

I have always wanted to play carrom, but my fingers have either stopped cooperating, or I lost the power to hit the striker afterward. My memories of carrom were always refreshing, and I could close my eyes and return to those treasured memories. I also used to stand and play carrom while wearing caliper shoes. 

Me and my cousins playing carrom from 2009.

My carrom board, which was 20 years old when I lost it, has always had a special place in my heart. My late maternal uncle bought us the carrom board in 1994 or 1995, and I took good care of it, even telling my cousins (born after 1995) that this carrom board is like your older brother so they wouldn't damage it. 

Everyone in our families adored our uncle, so you can tell how special he was. He was a philanthropist, not only financially, but his hard work had earned him great value and respect in the eyes of others. So how could I throw away something that remained as a memory of him, and I had only saved a few things that were also stored away in the loft? I could feel his thoughts were settled in the bottom of the memories like sediments underwater that never resurface until something triggered them.

My blog is significant in my life because it allows me to openly share my sadness, joy, and discomfort with life, which I have done for the past 17 years. Nobody supports me as much as you, bloggers, and friends, and your comments meant so much to me. In contrast to other social media today, where people only like and rarely share thoughts, I find your comment communicates with me individually. 

The hurting has never been a new occurrence in my life, and when it overflows, it bursts here in the expression of thoughts, but lately, I have discovered a delight in life. Kavin! 

My nephew Kavin lightens the mood, and I can't think of anything else in his company, and in his embrace, I am lifted to my emotional core since I haven't felt this way in a long time. I couldn't put it into words; when he hugs and kisses me, it's like the bliss of having accomplished something so pure, innocent, and beautiful that it will never be the same again.

It's something I've realized as he's been away from me for a while now; even though his absence was brief since he was visiting his maternal grandma, I feel the void intensely, but when I think of him, it feels unspecified. Though my nephew Jeswanth (my cousin's sister's boy) was the first to give me that emotion after a long time, Kavin, who is only six months younger than him, inspires me more because we live together in a household, and Jeswanth comes and goes from his house.