Slipping like Sand

through our fingers

Namaste Readers,

It has been more than a month since I last posted. Tragedy after tragedy has found us. On the two-month anniversary of my father’s death, I lost one of my cats. He was four and a half years old. He developed a hemoprotozoa infection. Just four days before he died, he was his usual, playful self. His departure was so sudden and traumatic that I am visibly struggling to find ways to integrate all of this as I navigate through my waking life.

I hope you, my friends in the colder parts of the planet, have been soaking up the grace of the summer light. Here in the Eastern Ghats of India, the monsoon is making its way through the Bay of Bengal, bringing with it torrential rain and storms. The anticipatory mating calls of the magpie robins at the windowsill cannot be missed, even for city dwellers. Mynas and crows have been arriving with higher demands for grains and crackers to feed their hatchlings. The little ones are harbingers of the monsoon winds and the season of survi…