May I always see you smiling !

 

Once you were so small

you fit easily within my hands.

Today you have grown so much

that even my arms cannot hold you the same way.

Back then my heart carried quiet worries,

wondering if I would make mistakes

while raising my son,

learning motherhood step by step.

Muttasi would smile at my anxious thoughts

and gently remind me,

“Children are all the same in this world—

sons and daughters alike.”

You were the youngest in our home,

showered with love from every corner.

Yet you never took advantage of that affection;

simplicity and kindness stayed with you.

Nineteen years have passed,

but a mother’s heart remains the same—

filled with care, pride, and quiet joy.

Stay happy always.

Never bring sorrow to another soul.

Whenever you can, lend a helping hand,

for humanity still lives in such acts.

My only prayer is simple:

may life treat you kindly,

and may I always see you smiling

as you walk your own path in this world.

~ Dawn

With love, today and always —

 

Your smile lights every heart,

Your friendship is a beautiful art.

You bring loved ones closer in every way,

Spreading joy wherever you stay.

May your life be filled with cheer,

Blessings, laughter, year after year.

With love, today and always —

Have a truly wonderful birthday !

~ Dawn

Let Go !!!

 There is a limit to all things—

to goodness, to cruelty, to beauty and decay.

A limit to what we hear,

what we see,

what we allow our tongues and hearts to carry.

We all have thresholds,

quiet lines drawn by the soul.

No one has the right

to bruise us with words,

to dress harm as advice,

or raise their voice as power.

Even sweetness, they say,

can turn bitter in excess.

So do not bow

just because you choose civility.

Strength can be gentle.

Leaving can be brave.

Walk away.

Let go.

~ Dawn

Raindrops and Reverie

 

Raindrops fall, and in their silver light,

Tears descend softly, mingling with the night.

With friends beside you, sorrow finds its balm,

Every shadow lifts, replaced by gentle calm.

If fire burns within, it brings its own glow,

Yet if it rages too fierce, it leaves but ashes below.

Sometimes rain caresses, a tender, soulful touch,

Sometimes it floods, washing doubts and fears as such.

Life drifts like a boat upon restless waves,

Bowing in prayer, yet steady, it braves.

Like a rainy umbrella, its path may twist and turn,

But still it moves forward, each breath a lesson to learn.

Years come and go, like whispers of time,

Life is fleeting, yet love makes the spirit climb.

The sun sends messages of hope to the day,

The moon spills light in Dawn’s gentle way.

Whoever lives with zest, with heart alive and free,

Finds life complete, as it was meant to be.

~ Dawn

Movie Review: Papa Buka

On December 8th, 2025, I had the privilege of watching the screening of Papa Buka at the Cine Grand in Fremont, an experience made even more special that our friend Prakash Bare co-produced the film and delivered a compelling performance as Anand Kunjiraman. This new film—Papua New Guinea’s official Oscar nomination is a heartfelt and visually captivating film that immerses the audience in the rugged beauty of New Guinea and the rich lives of its native tribes. The cinematography exquisitely showcases the land’s untouched landscapes, while the outstanding music elevates every scene with emotional depth. Each character leaves a strong and lasting impact. What moved me most was the sincere and powerful presence of Papa Buka, who steps into his first acting role with remarkable honesty. His performance feels natural, deeply human, and emotionally resonant—he becomes the soul of the story.

The narrative, set in 2010, offers an intimate glimpse into the region’s culture and its people. At the same time, it stirs broader reflections tied to the World War II struggles. Why do wars happen ? Who truly benefits from the war? Perhaps no one.

Papa Buka transcends the boundaries of a traditional film—it's an emotional journey into a world rarely seen on screen, one that stays with you long after the credits roll.

Heartfelt congratulations to Prakash Bare, Dr. Biju, and actress Ritabhari Chakraborty as Rumila, who was present at the preview.

Wishing all the more success and awards to promote many such stories that are yet to come out to the world!

~ Dawn

In Memory of an Onion Uttapam — And the Purab Restaurant That Defined My Pune Days

Growing up in NDA Khadakwasla, Pune, the world around Deccan Gymkhana felt like an extended neighborhood. The nearby stores, the familiar restaurants, the thelas, and even the old movie theater were all part of a daily rhythm—especially for those of us who hopped on and off the PMT buses that stopped at the Gymkhana bus stand.

On practical-lab days, my friends and I would leave home before sunrise, catching the early 7:00–7:30 a.m. bus from NDA to Ferguson College. By the time we returned around 5:30 or 6:00 p.m., we were exhausted and running on the remnants of the single lunchbox we carried with us. Those were the moments when the real dilemma struck:

Should we run to catch the 6 p.m. bus home… or let it go and give in to the temptation of Purab Restaurant?

More often than not, Purab tugged harder at our tired hearts (and empty stomachs). Its legendary onion uttapam—thin, large, generously loaded with onions and green peas, topped with just the right amount of green chilies—was unmatched. So good, in fact, that I never bothered looking at anything else on their menu. Paired with their chikoo milkshake, it was pure comfort, a small luxury for tired students who didn’t mind missing a bus for it.

After I left Pune, I don’t think I ever truly tried uttapam again. Nothing ever came close to Purab’s version. Maybe I didn’t want to risk breaking the memory.

But today, at Mylapore, I decided to be brave. I was nervous—What if it disappoints? What if it ruins my favorite memory?

When two small uttapams arrived with coconut chutney, tomato chutney, and sambar, I could almost feel my subconscious apologizing to Purab for daring to compare. I took the first bite. It was good—really good—but it wasn’t that uttapam. It couldn’t be.

Some flavors belong not just to a kitchen, but to a time, a place, and a version of ourselves long gone.

I don’t know if Purab Restaurant still stands, but I hope it does. I hope it’s still serving that iconic onion uttapam to students rushing between buses and practicals, creating new memories just like it did for us.

In loving memory of Purab Restaurant—and the onion uttapam that will forever taste like my Pune days.

~ Dawn

Rhythm of life’s cycle

 

A smiling, blossoming seed takes the form of a plant,

And from that plant’s embrace, a new seed is born again.

From seed to plant, and plant to seed once more—

Such is the quiet, endless rhythm of life’s cycle.

Life, too, is woven with its own strange mysteries;

Not every turn is simple, not every path runs straight.

Autumn arrives in its own season,

Yet sometimes branches betray us before their time.

Who truly belongs to whom in this world?

Even from the same root, everyone grows with a different identity.

~ Dawn