Daily

It has always been my dream to wander the world with you- go places, find beauty in nature and in simple things and live life to the fullest. What I have always wanted is to wake up early and watch the streaks of dawn across the sky and then snuggle you to wakefulness. 

The other dream has been to visit my native place near the River Green and watch the snakeboats glide in the river during Onam. Once in a while, to get soaked in its waters like in a lost childhood near the River. Also, to go a graveyard with my people in it to see the graves that have lost their names in renovation and forgetfulness. 

May be to find love once again in life, the beauty lost with time and the lost art of smiling many times daily like an innocent child does. May be to wear a spot of sindhoor on my forehead like a newly wed woman with pride in her acquired happiness.  

Desire

You have been my home and my solace in times of trouble. It is with you that I learnt how to travel in a magical land of dreams. Though we have never been together in life, it is in this world that I run to you, whenever your thoughts come to my mind. Throughout the years, I have missed you so many times but more than that I would like to tell you that I have never forgotten you even for a day.

We have wandered through this life in many lands and drank deep from desire. Your gaze pulls me closer and I am jolted into a whirlpool of desire. I give my everything to you getting carried away by the moment. Your eyes sing melodies that has always lured mermaids from every land and brought them to you without fail. 

Your words pull me to you and I dream about our moments of togetherness like eating a candy in secrecy. Your passion is something that gives me more to dream of and I watch you sleep soundly after this bout of lovemaking. You look peaceful like a small baby and that comforts my soul. 

We wander in green fields watching the dew on the blades of grass and drinking from words and from silence. We watch the sudden downpour that drenches us and celebrate nature and our moments of togetherness. Though miles away, we are together in thoughts and dreams. Everyday our wanderings across time and space are marked by the stories we tell and the places we inhabit. 

Rain Raga

Beneath the banyan tree, a woman sat singing some ragas. She was singing in her melodious voice some songs that invited the monsoons.  The land was dried up and the sky devoid of any trace of rain and the people draped in cottons gathered around with the sun scorching their brown skins.

The ragas reverberated 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 in the scorching summer season. 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 sat chattering with the juice of ripe mangoes oozing on their hands and faces.

The singer went on singing and the people listened to the songs that praised the advent of the rains: oh you rain; much awaited the boon of heavens that brings joy to the earth, solace to the people, oh you rain, come with thunder and lightning and soak our brown skins with delight. Oh rain, the fulfilment 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 invoked 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, the singer went on crooning the rain songs and soon and suddenly a wind blew over the land. The trees began to sway with the gust of wind and grey clouds rose to silhouette the sky with hints of a sudden outburst.

Then it started raining heavily. 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 pelted 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 land and the people danced in the rain with the beaming children screaming with delight when the droplets of rain drenched their brown bodies. The singer sat drenched still humming the megh malhar raga.

 

My roots strangely

Sometimes, you learn how to feel this sense of belonging to an unreal world and I belong only to you, my love. 

I have never felt this sense of belonging to this place that I left as a child where my brother and I stood in the cemetery every year praying for his dead soul. 

I do not belong to my father's family since its all dead and gone, with a few bones scattered in a churchyard long and far away though you get occasional visits, calls and messages from people who look just like you. 

I  do not belong to the place where I grew up in my mother's native place beside the River Green, where it was always fun to be playing in water yet there were rightful inheritors who belonged just because they grew up there. Then there were homecoming that were full of affection from your grandparents or their visits to our city that were memorable. 

Now, I belong by marriage to a family which calls me my own though the blood that runs through my veins is hardly theirs and sometimes I get the feeling that I am home, finally free from this sense of not belonging. 

Do I belong to my co-workers who call me my formal name and I am a familiar stranger who does not have many stories to tell but nods and smiles and passes them by. Yet, there are times when you connect with someone and you feel that you have always belonged there and you sense this bond that goes beyond words. 

Then, in an imaginary realm, my love, you are the one who star in my all my dreams, the one whose thoughts occupy this arid life and I long for your presence just like one longs for rain in summer. 

You know me inside out like the palm of your hand or like the page of a well-thumbed book and what makes me a woman when I am with you. You know my

feminine spirit and tenderness and not my occasional clownishness in trying to belong to some name, some family, some tribe, where I do not belong.

It is to you that I belong, your complement that fulfills and completes you,  in the melting down of the barriers between you and me, and the all engulfing tenderness that follows our lovemaking. 

That is the space where I see myself as feeling belonged and as having a pet name that you call me always. 

Daily

My heart has always yearned to explore the world with you by my side-to wander through uncharted lands, to discover hidden gems of beauty and to find beauty in the simplest of things. I have always dreamed of waking up next to you by my side and watch the streak of dawn across the sky.

One of my deepest desires is to visit my ancestral home near the River Green, to witness the majestic snakeboats gliding effortlessly across the water during the Onam festival. I long to feel the cool water envelop me, to laugh like a carefree child, and to relive the joy of my childhood.

I also hope to visit the old graveyard where my loved ones rest, to pay my respects to those who have passed on, and to remember the stories of their lives. Perhaps, in the silence of the graveyard, I will find a glimpse of the love and beauty that has been lost with time.

My dreams are not just about places and experiences, but also about the emotions and connections that make life worth living. I yearn to find love again, to rediscover the beauty that has faded with time, and to relearn the art of smiling like a child, with abandon and joy.

And, maybe, I'll find the courage to wear a spot of sindhoor on my forehead, like a newly wed woman, with pride and happiness in my heart. To feel the warmth of love and connection, to know that I am cherished and to radiate joy and contentment.

These are my dreams, my desires, and my hopes- to live life to the fullest, to love without fear, and to find beauty in every moment, with you by my side.

Us

I have a self that knows years of sense and more nonsense. I stand alone in crowds yet walk with you in green fields at the same time. I run in many new paths sitting at my armchair though I never leave my  world but for fresh signs or old paths. 

You are my other self, whom I do not know for I have never seen you as you really are, for I was struck blind by your light. and love was something that naturally followed. You were not with me in the physical sense yet I know you were with me in each and every circle round the holy fire and will find you near me in every dream.  

You are my favourite daydream that I return to time and again just to hold your hand in an unreal realm where rules don't matter and hearts speak only the truth. In another world, in a different circle of life, you and I will win our eternal game of love and may understand each other perfectly well. For us, time and space have never been important concerns for both of us and all that remains is the sense of unconditional love for the self and the other. 

#twinflamereunion 

#love

Masks

You and me have worn many masks with each other. Any other woman would leap and violently tear that mask of silence off your face. But I watch in silence, everyday, how far will you carry the game. You will only smile and say the same words of courtesy. But when your silence is broken by hoarse laughter that sounds so hollow, all my anger disappears and I find you the same as ever, childish and ever trying to hide your insecurity in being aloof and in being funny. After finding out how you feel, I see that I try to do the same with you.

Déjà vu

The place looks familiar to me though I have come here for the first time. It's as if you've been here before, though you know you haven't. The scene before you is like a dream, one that you've had before, but can't quite remember. I experience a sense of déjà vu looking at the blue waters and the houseboats wading in the water. 

As you stand there, lost in the tranquility of the moment, you start to wonder if the waves might hold some secrets, some whispers of the past that could reveal the truth about your connection to this place. Maybe, just maybe, if you stay a while longer, the waves will tell you the story of how you could hear the song of a home. 

You feel a sense of longing, a yearning to know more about this place, about the person whose home might be this place. You're so caught up in the trance of the blue waters that you barely notice the stranger smiling at you, their eyes crinkling at the corners as they take in the sight of you, lost in thought.

For a moment, you wonder if this stranger might be the answer to the questions that have been in your mind. Maybe they're the one who can tell you more about this place and about the song that's been echoing in your heart. 

Maybe the answer lies within you, in the depths of your own heart, where the memories of your dreams and the longings of your soul reside. 

Us

I have a self that knows years of sense and more nonsense. I stand alone in crowds yet walk with you in green fields at the same time. I run in many new paths sitting at my armchair though I never leave my  world but for fresh signs or old paths. 

You are my other self, whom I do not know for I have never seen you as you really are, for I was struck blind by your light. and love was something that naturally followed. You were not with me in the physical sense yet I know you were with me in each and every circle round the holy fire and will find you near me in every dream.  

You are my favourite daydream that I return to time and again just to hold your hand in an unreal realm where rules don't matter and hearts speak only the truth. In another world, in a different circle of life, you and I will win our eternal game of love and may understand each other perfectly well. For us, time and space have never been important concerns for both of us and all that remains is the sense of unconditional love for the self and the other.

handpicked

You cherish the Earth's palette: mud's earthy brown, leaves' vibrant emerald, sky's brilliant blue, ocean's soothing aquamarine, and sunset's golden hues. Like an expert buyer of sarees, you select unique drapes that whisper stories. Your eyes settle on a saree that captivates you and its pattern talks of a lifelong desire.

You marvel at how a maiden's love entranced her beloved, their hands entwined through life's joys and sorrows. Memories of your own youthful bridehood glow, basking in his love. Your heart skips a beat recalling his enchanted expression when you wore his favorite hue.

You remember his gaze of wordless wonder when you wear a beautiful saree he had bought for you. You recall his face when he first saw you in a saree and how he had looked at you in wonder. Inspired by this memory, I choose a neelakurinji printed drape waiting to bring that same awestruck look on his face. 

Us

I have a self that knows years of sense and more nonsense. I stand alone in crowds yet walk with you in green fields at the same time. I run in many new paths sitting at my armchair though I never leave my  world but for fresh signs or old paths.

You are my other self, whom I do not know for I have never seen you as you really are, for I was struck blind by your light. and love was something that naturally followed. You were not with me in the physical sense  yet I know you were with me in each and every circle round the holy fire and will find you near me in every dream. 

You are my favourite daydream that I return to time and again just to hold your hand in an unreal realm where rules don't matter and hearts speak only the truth. In another world, in a different circle of life, you and I will win our eternal game of love and may understand each other perfectly well. For us, time and space have never been important concerns for both of us and all that remains is the sense of unconditional love for the self and the other. 

Journal: Serious and Trivial

The pages of my journal await to record a few thoughts. These could serious, trivial or even a mixture of both just like life. All these rambling thoughts were gathered from the same quixotic heart that has loved to dream, to fly, to win and to keep.

The serious thoughts were all about love and the longing to be with the one you love and the need to make him your heart's anchorage and sacred space, how from a chance

acquaintance he grew into my world and how this love is celebrated in an alternate universe of togetherness. 

The trivial thoughts were scribbled on early mornings as a bundle of words in the dream journal as a celebration of the pure delight of being alive, when a burst of fresh air, a bit of bright blue sky or a belief in the goodness of life were more than enough to keep this heart on cloud nine. 

But the best ones are the mixed ones, a little serious and a little trivial about things that celebrate the joy of life that finds room in today's dream journal. 

Girl in the Painting

This painting told the story of a girl who won the heart of the guy she wanted and how she turned into a woman from a naive young girl in a short span of time. Her song spoke of how her heart remained his in every circle around the sun till death separated them. Her song of triumph about how she overcame obstacles in her path of love was depicted in the painting for all to see. 

home

Once again, you are back in the city that you grew up in and you know it like the palm of your hand. You love exploring its nooks along with your friend and you just love the comfort of your favourite hangouts such as the Museum or the coffee houses or roads.

These are the same places you have walked along with your friend on your daily walks from the bus stop to your house and the hangouts that you shared from college days sharing the cutlets and coffees from the Indian Coffee House.

When you were away for an year, you missed the fun, the food and the feel of your city. You missed the coffeeshops, the evening walks in the museum compound, the sweets from your favourite sweetshops or even the ease with which you could find what you wanted.

You love this city where you grew up so much that when you see in it in a film, you feel thrilled that it was shot in your city. You love to learn the lores of this place and explore new places just to quench your wanderlust. And  you spend the evening roaming around in the museum compound smelling the evening air and munching chaat under the ancient trees and it feels like you have come home again.

#home
#trivandrum

home

Once again, you are back in the city that you grew up in and you know it like the palm of your hand. You love exploring its nooks along with your friend and you just love the comfort of your favourite hangouts such as the Museum or the coffee houses or roads.

These are the same places you have walked along with your friend on your daily walks from the bus stop to your house and the hangouts that you shared from college days sharing the cutlets and coffees from the Indian Coffee House.

When you were away for an year, you missed the fun, the food and the feel of your city. You missed the coffeeshops, the evening walks in the museum compound, the sweets from your favourite sweetshops or even the ease with which you could find what you wanted.

You love this city where you grew up so much that when you see in it in a film, you feel thrilled that it was shot in your city. You love to learn the lores of this place and explore new places just to quench your wanderlust. And  you spend the evening roaming around in the museum compound smelling the evening air and munching chaat under the ancient trees and it feels like you have come home again.

#home
#trivandrum

home

Once again, you are back in the city that you grew up in and you know it like the palm of your hand. You love exploring its nooks along with your friend and you just love the comfort of your favourite hangouts such as the Museum or the coffee houses or roads.

These are the same places you have walked along with your friend on your daily walks from the bus stop to your house and the hangouts that you shared from college days sharing the cutlets and coffees from the Indian Coffee House.

When you were away for an year, you missed the fun, the food and the feel of your city. You missed the coffeeshops, the evening walks in the museum compound, the sweets from your favourite sweetshops or even the ease with which you could find what you wanted.

You love this city where you grew up so much that when you see in it in a film, you feel thrilled that it was shot in your city. You love to learn the lores of this place and explore new places just to quench your wanderlust. And  you spend the evening roaming around in the museum compound smelling the evening air and munching chaat under the ancient trees and it feels like you have come home again.

#home
#trivandrum

Dreamtime

 

This is the part of the dreaming earth that you become part of when you sleep or when you reach the ecstasy of creation, the place from where you learn the mysteries of the universe, from this deep slumber where you wake up refreshed and rejuvenated. 

The place where your flow activities take you, where you lose your sense of time and you step into kairos time and return back to chronos time having been part of creative forces. 

The place where your body rests in the rhythms of nature, in the cycles of sun, moon and the transits of the planets and you feel one with life in the universe. Then, this food that you eat and the love that you cherish becomes medicine that feeds your joy of living. 

You learn that all this knowledge shared in the times about this universe is all relative and arbitrary; that you need to learn wisdom from the wise to help you live better and to trust your own intuition so that you can recognise what your heart wants. 

This rest, this break, this act of doing nothing but rest and sleep and restore has been nothing but magic, of trusting in the divine timing of the universe. 

The Garam Masala Box

The smell of spices wafting from the spice shop nearby took me back to the year we got married and started setting up a home for ourselves. As part of building a home together, I went visiting a number of shops and among the things I had bought was a traditional masala box along with many other things. The box filled with a mixture of spices sat proudly on our kitchen counter as a symbol of the culinary experiments that awaited us. 

As we set up a home together, every day became an adventure. In the arena of cooking, I found joy in recreating dishes that brought a sparkle to your eyes. The subtle art of blending spices, the dance of flavors, and the aroma of dishes wafting from the kitchen all combined to create a magical effect. 

The evenings, in particular, hold a special place in my memory. In the evenings, I will select and find recipes that you might like and carefully prepare a meal, anticipating the look of surprise on your face when you walked through the door, weary from a long day's work. The compliment that followed, accompanied by a loving glance, was all the reward I needed, warming my heart for a long while. 

Akashdeep

On a beautiful Diwali night, she stands on the terrace watching the many diwali lamps set outside. She is holding the traditional lamp they had lit together on their wedding day when he had brought her home. 

As she set the lamps on the terrace, she prayed for all the living and dead souls in the family. She prayed for her husband before the tulsi so that they can watch together a thousand full moons. 

On a similar Diwali new moon night decades back, he had brought her home a beautiful bride, dressed in red silks and jewels, covered in red from tip to toe and bathed in a vermillion glow. In the meantime a good old wedding song played in the background the whole night. 

“Where shall I place my lamp in your silent home? Where shall I set my this heart? Once I set my eyes on you, there haven't been any other thought. You light up my life with your love and on this festival of lights I remember the time when we fell in love with each other. I love it when you hold me by the force of your love and do not let me go at all any moment. I have forgotten my roots and my troubles to come home with you and I will never leave your hand till the day I die, the song went. 

She feels at ease in her lighted courtyard, looks around and hums that song that was played on her first Diwali night in this home. She remembers how this place became her home after that day and she has always kept it well throughout the years. 

She takes a look at her husband, sleeping on his favourite armchair with a book in his hand. He must have slept off waiting for her to turn up after the household chores. She went up to him and caressed his unshaven face while looking at him affectionately. She played with strands of his grey hair while he moved and sighed in his sleep muttering her name. 

She goes on humming the same old wedding song and the sound of diwali crackers resound and echo across the whole place. She recalls how trials had come visiting them after their marriage and how they had stood by each other through them all. She thought of how they would celebrate this day every year as a reminder of how they had survived the obstacles that they had to face quite early in life and how this helped them bond with each other. 

Till midnight, she watches the diwali lights and the firecrackers from her balcony with him and they chat about the good times they shared and once again it's like the first time together. She smiled shyly at how he had looked at her with desire in his eyes, the first time he had embraced her and told her how beautiful she looked in the red saree he brought as her manthrakodi. 

Handpicked

You cherish the Earth's palette: mud's earthy brown, the leaves' vibrant emerald, the sky's brilliant blue, ocean's soothing aquamarine, and sunset's golden hues. Like an expert buyer of sarees, you select unique drapes that whisper stories. Your eyes settle on a saree that captivates you and its pattern talks of a lifelong desire.

You marvel at how a maiden's love entranced her beloved, their hands entwined through life's joys and sorrows. Memories of your own youthful bridehood glow, basking in his love. Your heart skips a beat recalling his enchanted expression when you wore his favorite hue.

You remember his gaze of wordless wonder when you wear a beautiful saree he had bought for you. You recall his face when he first saw you in a saree and how he had looked at you in wonder. Inspired by this memory, I choose a neelakurinji printed drape waiting to bring that same awestruck look on his face.