Saturday, April 09, 2022

Soul Friend




This heart has been a wanderer who loves to ramble and find ways where none existed before. It never understands the wisdom of other’s words nor can it choose anything other than what it wants for itself. Sometimes, it creates raging fires in places where a soft little word would have done.

Not that there were no mazes in the olden days. There were many that it burnt down or flew past, though not with a victorious smile or swelling pride but with quiet equanimity; it didn’t have much left behind to boast of.

For years, it has searched for beauty in all places- in the serenity of nature, in the spontaneity of a child’s smile, or in the most beautiful thoughts where it has always dwelt. It has often wandered in the serenest places on earth, where it took in with amazement, the feeling of being so minute in a huge beautiful world. Sometimes, it has wandered alone, partly to its dismay and partly to create a pride in solitude. There were also times, when in another wanderer’s eyes, it read solace, warmth and strange delight.

A new strength came from a kindred spirit in whose eyes, the world was made anew or paths made merrier with zesty songs and bright sunshine. With a soulmate, an anam cara, it has often dreamt of wandering again through the same mazes differently.Though there might be new invites from around, the cascading waterfalls, the beautiful mountain-tops, the endless beaches or beautiful fields of green delight, it needs a soul friend to listen to its endless amazement.

Though there might not be many words and many hurdles to jump over, this heart still wants to watch the stars fade away all along with its soul companion.Often it dreams of flights across all its mazes just to find solace in the comfort of a friend and at times, it feels that the time has passed and the magic gone. Despite of constant mistakes while wandering, it seeks within itself an answer, to wait patiently for its dream to come back again.

May be this heart would hum a new song or dance a new dance, a never-seen wonder of rejoice when it comes home, all safe in the arms of its soul friend. Till that day, this wanderer searches on weary faces a semblance of its dream, feels down when it finds nothing familiar and ends every journey with heavy feet and grim thoughts. Yet, with a spring of delight, it waits on every corner to see what surprise life holds in its sudden trips and turns, turning a deaf ear to the noises that are around it the whole time. 





Life in Small Pixels

A life in small pixels,
For an eye that has loved
To wander and stare at life,
As far as it goes,
Without any inherent fervour
Or the joy of life.

Joy of life,
The much-quoted joie de vivre,
Common among all cousins,
Friends and the young,
Somehow found missing,
From the beginning.

Yet the mind knows
And understands fully well;
That this life is mine alone
A sum of all experiences,
Yours and mine,
Bitter sweet.

Your eyes trailing on words
Splashed across the page,
Ah! the magic of that smile,
Cryptic, heavenly and mine,
A moment too momentous,
To capture in small pixels.

What we try to do together
Is to find beauty in the gross
And loveliness in the wordless
Limitless boundless blue skies,
To still the flowing river
Sip the magic of togetherness.

Many more days of silence wait,
Till this rambler can set forth
On faraway adventures across seas,
To watch the red-orange sunset
To feel the foaming waves dash,
Once more against our feet.

Till then, life goes around,
Prisms that capture moments
Made from minutest abstractions,
Versions of beauty around,
A mind in pastel shades
Capturing a life in small pixels.

Wanderlust


For a heart like this full of love for wandering in the serenest places on earth, each and every picture of natural beauty is an invite. The cascading waterfalls that astonish, the beautiful mountain-tops, the endless beaches and patches of green everywhere.

May be on a day like this, looking at this beautiful earth, I may not write a word but only sigh and think; for what to write about a work of art that is more beautiful than any word can describe. Yet I sit at home and dream of visiting all these wonderlands after looking at their pictures.

It might happen that one fine day, I will be able to wander as long as I please and as far as I please. But right now, the travels occur in dreams that carry me to these imagined places of delight.

Travel

Travel

Travel

Deja Vu





I don't think I have been to this place before but as I look around I get a feeling of deja vu. The blue waters and the houseboats look a very familiar sight, a place I might have been to many times.

May be if I stayed around, the waves might tell me from whose dreams I stole you, through whose heart I heard the song of a home of rest ahead. May be if I stayed around, it might tell me more about you, the one I might want to hear more about.

I am so immersed in the trance of the blue waters that I hardly see a stranger smiling at me. May be that's my answer or may be not.

Friday, April 08, 2022

From Your Valentine-3


The morning is only hours away and the need to see her has become so strong almost like hunger or pain. The first time I saw her she was so fragile and sick. Those days, I was not a prisoner as I am today. I was a priest who was condemned to exile for marrying off young lovers. When I was sent to live in the prison under Asterius, I took all my belongings- my books of learning, my secret potions and even my Arabian horses. 


I was taken to the bedchamber of the sick girl. There was a smell of decay in that room and when I looked at her closely, she was a frail creature with huge eyes and a feverish look. But on speaking to her, I felt that her eyes had lost their focus and she was unable to see me. Then I remembered the recipe for a herbal potion that I have read of and my next few days were spent in preparation of that cure for her illness. 


My first suggestion was a change of her rooms to somewhere with more light and sunshine. She was given a room on the Eastern side of the castle. For days together, she was my sole thought, my reason to be, the only delight in a confusing world of high ideals and disillusionment. I was at her side, observing her and how she became better day by day. 


My room was on the Western side but every now and then, I would cross the yard to come and see her. There was a strange delight in being responsible for a person’s well-being. Then, I remember the day when she opened her eyes and saw me. She mumbled some words of recognition at her mother who stood by her. When her father visited her, she was at a loss for words. 


There at times, when I wonder, had I been a layman and not a priest, I would have loved this girl who said my name Valentinus quietly and deliberately. She did not address me as “father” like the girls in my church nor did she give much thought to the fact that I was a priest. May be she knew what Emperor Claudius had in mind.

From Your Valentine-2


I was born in Terni in Italy. My childhood was a happy one with loving parents, plenty of siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles. I was the eldest in the family and I wanted to become a priest so that I could serve God. I loved reading the Bible out loud and also had the power to create potions and concoctions. 

On becoming a priest, just like the others, I did my share of baptisms, marriages and deaths. I was celebrated for my singing voice and my solemn speeches. However, I got into trouble when Emperor Claudius came to power. He was of the opinion the soldiers loved their families more leading to less attention to the duties of the nation. This made him antagonistic towards the instuition of marriage. Oh, I did disagree. 

There was Anna and Simon who were in love for years. Moreover, they could hardly wait as Anna was already in the family way. They were betrothed to each other since the Lupercalia when Anna came of age. The church took mercy in the matters of the heart and a special license was issued to get them married. It was at that time that the Emperor Claudius made a declaration of compulsory bachelorhood for all soldiers. According to him, men married so that they don’t have to go for war but stay around in the village looking after their families. 

What happened the next week was a secret marriage in the church attended only by the bridegroom and the bride. Looking at them and the simple ceremony of exchanging vows, I felt I was God in the Garden of Eden making a match between Adam and Eve. I blessed the couple and their unborn baby with a special blessing and sent them home. 

It was that night that I received an order from my Abbot asking me to leave the place immediately. In the letter, it was written that the Priest Valentinus was asked to enjoy his stay with the jailer Asterius in his castle for a few days. It meant in a veiled manner, a place of exile away from home till I was called back. But before, I left what I did was to gather some more young couples and get them married in God’s name.

From Your Valentine


The rose is red, the violet's blue,
The honey's sweet, and so are you.
Thou art my love and I am thine;
I drew thee to my Valentine:
The lot was cast and then I drew,
And Fortune said it shou'd be you.

From Your Valentine 1


The month of February is the month of festivities, the time when birds find their mates and that of the Lupercalia, the festival of the god of fertility. For Rome, this is the time when the mobs crowd the streets and there are festivities everywhere. Yet for me, this is the month when I have experienced the optimum happiness in my life with a tinge of regret especially when I have to come to terms with the fact that my days have become numbered. 

It is very cold and even my bones can feel the chill of this night. I don’t know what hour it is. But the little glimpse of sky that I view from my barred window, it looks dark blue with a glow. Looks like it must be three hours past midnight. Not that I was a reader of the skies but judging from the months of captivity and the hours when the watch changed in the tower, I think I have become adept at it. But there is something very special about this day as it might be the last one I might see. This day I go to face my death in the gallows before the huge crowd gathered for the Lupercalia this week. 

There are occasional shouts and celebrations from the streets. Just like every year, this year too many young men will prove their valour in the competitions held before the emperor. The women will be showered with the ceremonial blood from the sacrifice of animals before the god of fertility near the caves of Romulus and Remus. Then, there will be the choosing of one’s bride from the urn of good fortune. Julia will also be chosen by some warrior or the other. Even the thought makes me angry as it brings to my mind a very unpleasant memory of having to tend for her for days on end and then having to leave her side on new orders from the Emperor.

Thursday, April 07, 2022

Happy Birthday Wordsworth

Summer Tedium



The summer heat sizzles and burns, while one longs for the rain. On the way back from work, I look at the water drizzled in the orchards and dream of soaking myself in the river back home, in the village that I grew up in.

On the roads, one looks at the heaps of green and ripe mangoes, watermelons and ripe guava. In the lazy evenings, you smear sandalwood on your body to cool you down and drink tall glasses of spicy buttermilk to quench your thirst.

My heart reaches for you in these eons of absence with a longing that I have never known before, dreaming of the times when our love was a constant source of happiness. Like one longs for the rains in the scorching heat, one longs for your presence in this long summer tedium. 

Sunday, April 03, 2022

Perfect




How long have we belonged to only to each other?
That day since we took a quiet walk of togetherness,
Though it is as though we have always belonged
To each other across the ages in a sacred sense.

Coffee kisses, pasta lunches, candlelit dinners,
Shared moments of togetherness well-cherished
The perfect wine that we tasted last and so deep,
Not first love nor the first riot of purple passions.

There might have been others before you and me
Countless love-stories that taught us heartbreaks;
The many roles that you and I played across lives,
The sense of having known each other all along.

But I do remember us walking around the holy fire
Quietly chanting mantras of eternal togetherness.

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 ram...