Summer Love: Kiss Day

You are my favourite song that I sing day and night till I get tired of singing. You are my summer love of youth that come to me in snatches of songs and as pleasant memories though our love never got a happy ending like others did theirs. With you, it was always the silence that reigned as if we came from some primeval ocean full of ancient longings. You were the sun, the moon, the land, the ocean and all that this heart wanted to see around it.

It was as if we did not need words to speak of the magic that was between us, it was as if we have always known each other minutely and the much-needed words failed to come out though I tried hard when you were around with you. I wanted you to stay around with me always and it is your companionship that I craved throughout all the years.

What I remember is your mellow voice that spoke enthusiastically and warmly of things that moved you and the beautiful way words sounded when you spoke to me. Not that others do not speak enthusiastically or warmly or sweetly but this heart remembers you with fondness and exaggerates how you were, how you spoke and how you behaved. Now, eons later you have become a beautiful song that I know by heart and that might be sung a lifetime. 

words: hug day

There were words that leaped out of neatly bound library books and offered solace in the dark nights of the soul. With wonder, you remembered these miraculous tomes set by a writer whose heart was full of infinite longing and pure love. 

For years, my dream has been to write with the same magical touch that offers solace to the reader. I never knew this dream till you peeked at my midnight dreams that summer. Awake from sleep, I wanted to tell you what I felt for you especially when you were away from me and how my heart beat when you were with me. 

Though you were not mine to own, I started becoming possessive about you. You need to smile at me, talk to me only or enjoy spending time with me, I argued. In the realm of words, I starred writing the songs of silence about what you mean to me. 

This heart wants not to please the mob; only to sing about what it remembers the most of a long-lost love. These songs have no art; they speak of the loss in not having you beside me. They have neither rhyme nor rhythm but only a wild beat of words that are quaint to the ear, yet in their own way, unique and creative. 

Words come, with its thousand limbs, entangled meanings and nuances, like a sudden burst of rain that creates ripples in still water, while the great green forest holds watch over with its mighty silent wombs of understanding, from that moment when you appeared in my midnight dreams for the first time. 

Making memories:Promise day

I want to spend some time with you and I want to know everything about you. I want to spend all the best days across various seasons with you, wandering this world and learning more of you, what you are like and your likes and dislikes, creating some really good moments together. Someday, I want to look back and think that we were creating memories together.

I want to know close, read each and every look, every smile, learn your language and also what you say without using words. I want to see and remember how your eyes light up in a smile and how my world lights up with your smile and how this world lights up making it a better place to live.

Your fingers touch me and I forget myself and the worries of this world. Your lips kiss mine teaching me the art of love every single day.

It is with this pleasant feeling of being loved that I want to go to sleep at night and it is with the certainty of your arms around me that I want to wake up in the morning. 

Teddy Day: Dreams

Though we may be apart, in a sense we are always together, across all lives, present and future. For this sense of being alone, creeps on you even when you stand in crowds and even when you are with your friends.

You are my other half, my twin flame in this life, for it is with you that my dreams run wild and I weave stories of togetherness in an unreal realm. And, I have become like you in the years that followed.

In a way, when I look back on life, like a traditional Indian bride, I have walked with you around every revolution around the sun, I have stayed loyal to your love and held your name holy like a talisman.

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. 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. 

Even when I dream, you are with me and I return to your thoughts 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 parallel universe, we celebrate our life of eternal togetherness.

It is destiny that brought us together and again we spend our time chatting away about how life has been during these years of absence. I dream of a life of togetherness again, stargazing or soul gazing or learning more of each other.

And, though apart in real, in every circambulation around the sun, you and I will grow together in wisdom and though our lives will remain apart, you and I will find that this sense of oneness with each other in spirit, that itself is a reason for celebration.

#teddyday

 

Us: Chocolate day

We met each other for the first time two decades ago when we were in our twenties and within days we were talking to each other about our favourites- books, films, music and food.

You and I spoke of things that were serious and trivial, and formed a bond with common tastes. The first evening was followed by many more tastes and smells that we experienced at the eatery close to our workplace.

You sat beside me for a friendly chat sipping hot coffee in an evening air that smelt of freshly brewed coffee and newly baked bread. It was that book by Robin Sharma that brought you to my mind because I remember how you were so passionate about what you love.

Those days, I think was a transition period because I saw myself transform into a princess and I would spend hours in front of the mirror wondering what you saw in me.

I think it's the magic of those bygone days that come with the smells of hot chocolate and freshly baked bread. And, I remember you because though I am sad that you were never mine, I always wonder how wonderful I have felt with you around me.

Today, your sweet words made me remember our long lost days of togetherness.

Fantasy: Propose day

Years: Rose Day

May be it was part of my bravado to make  fun of love and how lovers feel when they meet after a long time.

Though the hourglass looks still, the days have fled so fast as if on wings. Here we are, the writer and the written, the wanderer and the dreamer, face to face, eye to eye.

I don't know where you have been and whom you have met but I would like to hear what passed day by day, hour by hour, second by second.

I might have to fight back all the tears of absence that have weighed my heart and you may have to slow down the countless words that never found a way to the lips.

But god willing, when that day finally comes,  I want it to remain still like forever and I want to tell you for sure that I know what a love story really feels like.

Letters to the Self

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Goodbyes

Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.

February

Mother Mary Comes to Me

When you read Arundhati Roy's memoir Mother Mary Comes to Me, you are reminded me of the world you stepped into when you first read the opening pages of The God of Small Things. Once again, you are a teenager reading about the Booker and the River Meenachil she has portrayed in The God of Small Things. 

 

Her memoir features her tumultous relationship with her mother whom she calls her shelter and her storm. The book is about her mother Mary Roy, leading educationist and the woman who fought for ancestral property rights in Kerala. Mary Roy was the founder of a school Pallikoodam in Kottayam and is depicted as a strong woman who stood for what she believed in and Roy traces how she meets Laurie Baker and his assistant, creating in her a desire to be an architect. 

 

The book begins with how Arundhati and her brother are addressless children trying to survive with their mother in the maternal family. Her mother had fled from Assam where her husband was working after their marriage ends abruptly. So, the first part traces her  childhood in Ayemenen in Kottayam and her youth as an architecture student in Delhi, her meeting with her future husband Pradip, the literary endeavours that she made throughout her life as a writer.

She has managed to capture the contradictions involved in the relationship with her mother- the devotion and the differences, the need to connect and the need to stay away. She reminisces about her writerly life and her various assignments. The book also captures the last days of Mary Roy including how the epitaph says Dreamer, Warrior, Teacher on her tombstone.  

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Reminders of Self-care

Forget

 

It is strangely pleasing,
To see that you remember,
Each and every word I said,
Every word of nonsense,
Recorded and stored,
In your fond memory
 
All the queer fantasies,
Uneasiness and likes,
Every turn of phrase,
Recorded and stored,
Carefully held close
In your fond memory
 
But I would rather you forget,
Every little thing, every word,
Than remember and store,
Treasure with sharp ache,
Going through every day,
Like on a bed of arrows
 
I would rather you change
Change with the seasons
Dance with the crowds
Shake with roaring laughter
Smile that slowbreaking smile,
Than ever remember me
 
Yet every night the candle burns,
With thoughts sent as waves,
Prayers that may or may not reach,
For all blessings to fill your hands,
And strength to forget, forget, forget
An intense slice of an uneventful life.
 

The plans

The Unsent Letters

Your Compass

Life's secrets

The Story Of Badhiya

There is a story about a cousin of the Buddha whose name was Badhiya. He was governor of a province in the kingdom of Shakya, in present-day India. One day a number of his friends who were monks and students of the Buddha came to him and invited him to join their community. He hesitated. As a governor, he had at his command many soldiers, a lot of money, and a very powerful position. But finally his friends persuaded him. He left it all behind and came empty-handed into the forest, where he was ordained by the Buddha as a monk. He didn't have a fancy house to live in anymore. He only had three robes, one bowl, and a sitting mat.

One night Badhiya was meditating at the foot of a tree. Suddenly, he uttered the words, 'Oh my happiness, oh my happiness. It happened that another monk was sitting nearby. The other monk thought that Badhiya regretted having abandoned his position as governor. So in the early morning l that monk went to the Buddha and reported to him. 'Dear teacher, late last night I was sitting in meditation. Suddenly I heard the monk Badhiya exclaiming, "Oh my happiness, oh my happiness." I think he has some problem.'

The Buddha sent his attendant to invite Badhiya to come. In front of a group of monks the Buddha said, 'Badhiya, is it true that last night during sitting meditation you pronounced two times the sentence, "Oh my happiness, oh my happiness"?" Badhiya said, 'Yes, noble teacher, I did pronounce that sentence twice.

'Could you explain to us why you have pronounced these three words during the night?' the Buddha asked.

Badhiya said, 'Dear teacher, when I was a governor my palace was guarded by hundreds of soldiers. But I was still very afraid. I was afraid robbers would come and kill me or at least take away all my valuables. So day and night I lived in fear. But last night I realized that now I have nothing to lose. I was sitting out in the forest at the foot of a tree, and never in my life have I felt so safe. Nobody wants to kill me anymore because I have no power, no wealth, and no jewels for anyone to take. I have nothing. Yet I finally have everything. I am touching such a great happiness and freedom. That is why I have pronounced the words, "Oh my happiness, oh my happiness." If I have disturbed someone, I am sorry. 

From Thich Nhat Hanh's No Mud, No Lotus