A Ditty

Hope is sometimes all we got
It’s important to hold onto-
So we don’t lose the Plot
The events unravel slowly
It’s quite a story
(hopefully with a happy ending).

Naz walks gracefully.

Be an Observer
Don’t be an emotional beggar

Mission in life: Inner Peace

Ditty no 2
Neurological disasters are not
there is always a lemon there–
so count on that–
Don’t get fat contemplating your navel.



You are born and,
Champagne is drunk in my room.
The only boy after a spate of girls—
the 4th child in a flock of five

Seb you are much
more than gender identity.
You are one of the most valuable people I have met
And, not because you are our son. In spite of it.

There is a grace about you that is unsurpassed.

Fun and playfulness become you,
you love a joke or two
I so enjoy our talks —
on books, film and music.

or whatever you put your mind to–

You have the best playlists— wink wink
Super driving skills, I’d drive anywhere with you.
I appreciate your vanity, after all,
who does not like to look good?

blame it on Venus in the 1st house

BUT, it’s your kindness and gentleness that I just adore
You are one in a million who could ask for more?
Today you are 21. A man, my son.
A party at Anderson road is what we’d done

To help celebrate your birthdate

The family is sorry that we are not there
you are in college and have plans in the make.
A celebration will happen when you are back home.
So cheers to you and all you do.

Your goodness is so profound it
makes me want to weep, my love for you,
eternal absolute and deep.

Happy Birthday Seb. Hope there is cake.

isaboo & sebastian 3.jpg

I was looking for a recent photo and believe it or not could not find one.
So here’s looking at you, Seb. Gosh you were cute. The girl next to you is pretty cute, too.

The deep blue sea

Go deep, deeper. As deep as you’ve ever imagined.
The rawness from you bursting forth
a ripe open mangosteen
purple juice staining your lips, darkening your tongue
Truth lies there. Lies does too, but lies does not stay for long.
Truth has the wherewithall to come out and play
Sometimes it’s so painful you can’t go on.
It’s Bach at its finest- quick, brilliant, uninterrupted
The piano playing like it’s in love
And after a long time the pain is excellent
At least you think it is
You’re in love and may have lost him
Why am I howling into the wind? It carries me
Over the sea and dumps me at Dead Man’s Cove.
Under the tamarind trees where I meet a man in a speedo
And Bathing cap. I am guessing he hardly has any hair.
I don’t care I keep swimming out there. In the bluest sea I have ever seen
I look down at the clear water and see the sand.
This is where I find my ring. Unbelievable. My wedding ring.
We thought the monkeys had taken off with the loot and vanished.
we celebrate and say our vows rooted to the spot.
Walk soaking wet as husband and wife to the beach
Sit on the deck chairs and drink gin and tonics.


Sessions with Melanie
consist of walks and talks and
serious physiotherapy

Put one foot in front of another
take long strides
now run, walk, run

Can we beat this?
we can, when joy abounds!
the body freezes
distress creeps in

Melanie is there
to pull one up
from impending despair

Box. mind your head
the upper cut,
from the side,
dive, baby dive.

helps most
train those glutes

What is this?
what are we training
For? Is the disorder out
of order?

Yes. We are ignoring it
out of the box thinking
and hard training will keep
symptoms at bay.

Physiotherapy with Melanie
Is an exercise in discipline.
Manipulation of body brings relief
Mostly, her encouragement brings

Freedom and Confidence.

An intimate memory of childhood

A rusty Humber rattled along
the gears designed on the steering wheel column.
The man driving the car was whistling,
tea bushes sweeping by the curvy roads
6 or 7 hours and they were still going.

The driver shifted gears,
the girl in the back seat kept staring at the steering wheel, and
wondered why the gears were designed to be there?
this detail was taking up her thought process.

The Stars had come out now.
5 degrees north of the equator
there was Venus, then the big dipper and little dipper
there were other forms she recognized
but could not recall their names. Polaris?

Still those tea bushes, still the gear shift
alongside the steering wheel.
Without warning a hedge appeared. Tall and dark
a row of them—and then: St Leonards Estate.

He stood tall, his beret cocked on his head
his long shorts grazing his knee. Waiting by the door
insouciantly leaning against the wall.
whiskey in hand. The kids stumble out
doors opening, spilling out biscuit crumbs,
cream soda bottles, specks of vomit, a pillow.

A bath!  The adults shot a cursory glance as the kids were
whisked away by their nannies.  mother barely acknowledging them,
father accepting a glass of drink from his host.
Clothes were peeled off bodies as they
got into their baths, two together. The water hot.
Soothing, the journey forgotten.



Komari Beach with Tash and friends

The ocean: vast, blue inaccessible
Cliffs stand tall form a barricade to the beach
My brain won’t let me walk
Boys use arms to fashion a seat
Helicopter blades circle,
the clouds help lift
My form—in its infancy of weight—
I am whizzed by, the lads and I
Hot sand beneath our feet

They lay me on the pristine beach
Friends prance, waves dance in the sea.
Overhead; high clouds, shape into shells
Heat, sun, air & salt water combine to bliss.
Crystal clear clarity mimics a winter night:
The moon, full, the trees barren.
A branch cracks and falls.
Except it’s the tropics. The height of summer.
High noon. Remind me of my first kiss.
Surrender to this.

A better woman.

For the umpteenth time this year, She could not get out of bed. Her legs wouldn’t move, her hands felt as if they were floating somewhere near her body. Not attached as they should be. It’s what she calls a global phenomenon, meaning, the symptoms are global, the symptoms affect her entire body.

She tries to sit in lotus position to meditate, but is not successful. She’s not weak — has worked out all her life—ran, swam, did yoga, pressed weights, rode horses. Her brain was not sending the messages to her body for it to function. So, she lay there- – in a flop– and started her deep yogic breath work. She counted her breaths and willed herself to relax. Her body started responding, soon she was one with her breath, inhaled and exhaled timed so the breathing was working in a perfect circular motion. Her husband lay beside her, snoring, Soon, his snores and her breath were in unison. Wonderful, she thought. Our communication skills are on point.

She looked outside the window, dawn was rising, slowly and gently, as it usually did. There were two mynah birds on the temple tree cocking their heads as if to consider their day. The cat crept in through the open window looking a wreck. He jumped on her stomach and she reacted– it took all her will power to throw it off–he did a somersault and landed on his four paws—turned around gave a look of utter contempt and took off.

What had bought this peculiarity on? A movement disorder said the neurologist. It’s Interesting they mused. “Your interesting.” when she hears ‘interesting’ used by doctors’ she smirks. All it means is that they don’t really know what to do. Are they doing the right thing? Are they treating the symptoms the way they should? Are they overmedicating? Do they have a name for this aberration? She experiments with alternative treatments. Acupuncture, pranic healing, massage, ayurvedic retreats, meditation. As long as it does not harm her, she will try it.

Today she had lots of things to do, looking out the window and at life outside was not going to help, She needed to get a move on cross things off her list. Her mother’s estate needed attending, she had to raise some funds for a charity she supported and had an appointment with her physiotherapist, her favourite part of the day. The physio and she would work on interval training. They’d run, walk, run, and keep at it for as long as possible. Her body always felt like a stiff drink the next day, but she ignored that symptom.

She felt something licking her ankles, bent down to see the ginger cat. she picked it up and gave it a squeeze. He purred, in that smug way. Hm. she thought, he’d make a better woman of me.