Memories

Earlier, life was celebrated fully and these cherished moments were captured on the lens. Most of the time, you loved to stand and stare and wander and find joy in the things around you. For you could watch with delight whatever was offered on the wayside and in your wanderings you came across many sights that always caught your eye. 

Every occasion was marked by countless snaps took on the camera and sometimes even our days of togetherness were treasured memories in small pixels. But with the passage of time, on growing older and wiser and lazier, you have changed a lot and you no longer believe in the power of the lens to capture memorable moments. Now, you want to sit still and enjoy the moment, be mindful and present, taking in the whole experience in its entirety. 

The sights that you see around are captured on your mind’s eye as you savour and record each and every sensory detail- the miracle of your child's first cry, the morning sights on the city roads, the sunsets by the beach and the soothing sight of the waves crashing against the shore, the rhythmic way your wayside shopkeeper makes your favourite pani puri and the countless moments that are too good to be caught on the lens. 

I find that there are moments more cherished than all these, like our days of togetherness though not caught on any lens any day. What you and I try to do is to find the magic of togetherness in the everyday life and beauty in the mundane around us. 

You need to wait so that you and I can set forth on our wanderings and find delight in the solace that nature offers. I wish for more days when we can sit idle near the seashore listening to the soothing music of waves thrashing against the shore or wander in the city basking in the morning light. 

Anyway, I would say you are my favourite movie rerun in my mind's eye, with the smallest details and more precious than any captured moments and I would trade everything just to capture your smile on the lens, with you watching the beauty around you.

Memories

When I was in my twenties, I had this habit of capturing moments on the lens and almost very occasion was marked by the countless snaps took on the camera. But with the passing of years, on growing older, you have changed your nature and you no longer believe in taking snaps to treasure memorable moments. 

Most of the time you want to sit idle and be there in the moment, taking in the experience as a whole with your whole self. Then, you come back to your experience and rerun it in your mind's eye savouring each and every detail- the miracle of your child's first cry, the morning sights on the city roads, the sunsets by the beach and the soothing sight of the waves crashing against the shore, the rhythmic way your wayside shopkeeper makes your favourite pani puri and the countless moments that are too good to be caught on the lens. 

I find that there are moments more cherished than all these, like our days of togetherness though not caught on any lens any day. Anyway, I would say you are my favourite movie rerun in my mind's eye, with the smallest details and more precious than any moment ever caught on the lens. 

My Dream World

I belong to only to you, my dream world- not to the place that I have left as a child, or to my native place, to my father's place which I have left as a child. I do not feel that I belong to my father's family as he is dead and gone long back and what I have left of him are a few scattered bones in a graveyard and some books and diaries that he left behind.

I do not belong to the place I grew up as a child beside the River Green, where it was always fun playing in the river yet I never belonged to my mother's family for there were rightful inheritors who belonged more rightful than me. I do not belong to my extended family for I have blindly followed their traditions and values without questioning them and created a tradition of handing over the acquired culture.

I belong only to you, my dream world and my twin flame, who knows my ups and downs, my feminine spirit and tenderness, my occasional clownishness in trying to belong to some name, some family, some tribe,where I do not belong. Yet in the realm of unreality, it is you who define me, in the sacred space of our togetherness,in the melting down of the barriers between you and me, and the all engulfing tenderness that follows, that is the space where I see myself, as yours having a name that you call me when no one is around and being yours other beloging to any place, tribe or family.

Rain Chants

The sacred space by the temple was created on a platform of red bricks and nearby a saffron-clad priest chanted the ancient chants for rain in high tones. The land was dried up and deviod of any trace of life and the people draped in earth-coloured cottons chanted with the sun scorching their wheat-coloured skins.

The chants reverbrated in the blazing summers and were offered to the gods of the sky and the wind and the people remembered all the occasions when the land was blessed with rain following the rituals. The children from the village played by the dried up temple pond, thinking of the days where they splashed in the cool water, sat idly in the cool recesses of the rocks, or chattering with the juice of ripe mangoes oozing on their hands and faces.

The ancient chanting went on incessantly, in a land of purity, where none could wash or bathe except in the muddy pond waters and the summer  blazed along with the hot afternoons, when none could sleep, for the heat numbed and scorched the earth.

The ancient chants went on praising the rains: oh you rain; much awaited, the boon of heavens,
that brings joy to the earth, wealth to its people,oh you rain, come with thunder and lightning,
and soak our brown skins with delight. Oh rain, the fulfillment of forecasts and incessant prayers,
I invoke you in the names of the barren earth, the dried up rivers and lakes, the animals and birds,the silent trees and the people on earth.

The rains were awaited after the prayers to end the blazing afternoons of summer heat with the first drops of summer rain and you set the warm smell of earth rising and you bedeck trees with jewels like brides, from furnace hot afternoons to nights of restless pace. It is for the rains, incense is burnt and prayers chanted and it is for you, the comforter on hot summer days. The land and the people waited for the comfort offered by the summer rains.

However, on the third day of endless repentance and prayers, grey and white dappled clouds rose to silhouette the sky, with hints of a sudden outburst. With the advent of the rain clouds, the entire city rejoiced as the wait was over.  The days of drought are finally over and the soft rain slushed over the crowd with bolts of thunder and lightning. The people received in open hands stretched to skies what the heavens granted as comfort from the scorching heat of Indian summer.

The rain fell over the blazing holy fire, with the land and the people soaked in the rain and the beaming children screamed at delight when the droplets of rain drenched their bodies. Finally, the prayers of the people were answered and the land was blessed with rain.

 

Desires

When we began our days together, I remember how you mentioned your wants, desires and needs as a man and what couple goals you dreamt of when you thought of us. I think our days were spent in the small details that you imagined for our life together. 

 

I think you chose assurance and I chose unconditional love for what we needed from each other. You wanted understanding for your words and thoughts while I needed a lot of shaking laughter for my clownishness. You wanted a realignment in thinking while I wanted healing for my past wounds. 

 

I know that we come from two different worlds of understanding and at times, you need to understand what the other feels like. You know that there are days when the past wounds hurt too much and I want this bond to stay strife from memories that haunt. 

 

And, I want us to drink love wild from our togetherness yet grow old as individuals learning from perfect love. You want this love to have a future while I want it to become a sacred space of refuge for us. Let the past try to haunt us with pain and strife but we have each other and our moments of perfect bliss.

Grand Rising

I have always carried you in my heart, safe from the prying eyes of the world and even after all these years, I find it surprising that you still remember me in the words you write. When I read your words, a springtime of happy memories flash before my eyes and feel transported to a different time when the heart was lighter and the steps sprightly. 

 

In your words, I read your need to store each and every fond word, every strange fantasy and strangest turn of phrase that I may have said. In them, I see myself attain a beauty that I never knew was mine, a strength that I have recognized only in the latter years. 

 

Sometimes, I wonder whether you will be truly happy cherishing a fond memory which is gone from this world. When I leave this world, I may close my eyes and be gone from this world in an instant. You might wait for me to respond to your voice then find out that the breath had left this mortal body. You might try to call out loud and retrieve my soul from the other world. 

 

In the days that follow, I will have a grand rising in another world. I will appear as the tiny sprout of grass on the ground you tread, or as waves that rise to meet your feet, or the air that blows around you or the raindrops that caress you with tender love. Everyday, I will be sending you letters in sky writing, as clouds that bring you rain and nourishment. And, I will be waiting for you to greet me, good morning!