The house is quiet, the bedroom is almost spotless. Calm after the through spring clean is in the air and the dog thinks I am rather annoying for not patting her and fiddling with a box.
I sit here, wishing for all the people that I would rather were with me. I spent my morning call home grumbling at dad, trying to convince him to come over. After all, he also deserves a trip on his own after mom. He’d much rather do it later, all of them together.
However, the Bunch of dried lavender tied and left for me by my lover is wafting its calm and love to me from the bedside table, and there is the rather annoyed dog.
I’ve been debating a philosophical and moral question.
Would I, try to save the ones I love at the peril of my own. Do we love enough to share the last bite we may have? I hope we never have to find out, but if it does come, I hope I have that in me, and that I am also loved thus.
Why so morose, you ask? Not morose at all. It started from me being annoyed about something, questioning the principles of giving in love, the selflessness involved (and required) and the forethought that goes into how we treat and plan things for those we love. If its ok to feel that one gives too much, but then to think that there really is no such thing – how can there be?
Now the dog has given up and left the room to maybe roll in the garden. Infinitely more entertaining.
I was thinking about what happened at Bergen Belsen. How much humans can endure, and if the current meat industry isn’t a lot like the concentration camps (only there was no breeding involved), work them until they can’t anymore and then kill them. How the SS women were more distant and cruel than the men. Indeed – a woman can be a lot, in her love, giving, endurance, suffering, wrath, revenge or cruelty – not all, but the ones with minds and backbone can actually be supreme sometimes between the two sexes. What we lack in the physical, we make up for in the mental. A little part of me wonders at what I am currently reading, just at this point in time. When a minute worry niggles at me when I let it, I hope it is never possible to revisit depravities of the Second World War ever again.
The dog is back, covered in bits of dried grass. So much for cleaning. She is looking at me hopefully, dear Babu.
I do find it that it is easier for me to concentrate on my writing, creating or generally enjoy myself when the room and hopefully the house is clean. Not sparkling clean, that never happens, but generally so. With 85% of things where they belong and a few bits of grass here and there. Then I can calm down, sit in the clean room and write. It feels friendlier, productive.
Being in love is, interesting. It makes one wish to crystalize moments and keep them, hanging around us. It’s amazing, challenging, debilitating, utterly magical and charming, and it makes for a happy life. I cannot describe it, but I can say with absolute certainty that one has to learn what love isn’t to learn what love actually is. You cannot make lists of what you want, you can however take note of what is unacceptable, what you do not want. Only that you have some control over. Even after finding love, it is a constant learning process and informing and debating each other about what we do not wish for, and do not want – and then creating, knowingly or unknowingly, things that we do want and come to adore.
Love is courage. The true test of it is not only the extreme moments of saving each other, but also the trials and tribulations of everyday life. Love is effort sometimes, like anything worth its salt should be. Love is the microscope that reveals hidden mysteries about yourself, to you and your lover. Make sure to magnify the good ones and learning from the others. Grow with it, grow with each other (not change –grow), and let it make you the best version of you. You have your whole life to learn and practice. If you can’t do something well today, you will tomorrow, or the day after. Keep trying. Do not despair and think you’re not good enough – that is cowardice. Try again, be kinder, give more than you think is needed. It will come. Love is giving.
I’m so wise. The dog says so. She is also my yoga companion.
Well I was walking back home yesterday evening and saw a very yummy, crunchy looking leaf. I had lots of bags but the joys of stomping over a crunchy leaf are immense and not to be missed. An everyday crunchy leaf has a single good crunch in it, but an extraordinary one has several! This one was a several stomps leaf. It was nice and brown all around, crisped by the summer sun. I stepped on it with one foot and then with the other, and the crackling noise, the feeling of it being crushed underfoot, the crunch, the sheer pleasure was indeed half orgasmic but in a fully non adult way.
Sometimes one comes upon a dried bunch of eucalyptus leaves and the nose joins in on the pleasures.
The stars up here at night are a delight. I go out every night to say hello to them before bed, no matter how sleepy I maybe. They are friendly. Last night I saw that the sky had changed silently while the super moon had been covering up its tracks. The constellations that I could see now are different from the ones in winter. I found Krutika, a constellation I’ve been seeing after midnight on summer nights in the northern hemisphere was rising before 11 here in summer. I made me full of joy. In all despair and in all pleasure, trees, clouds, the sky and stars will stand with you. Always bringing awe, wonder, hope and magic. I also send out love to people afar and hope that they spare a glance at the heavens too. It is full of my love for them, I am sure they’d feel it if they remembered to look.
As time isn’t inside clocks,
Love isn’t inside bodies:
Bodies only tell the love.
Feeling that you are on your own in times of trouble is entirely unpleasant. Even though you know that help will come if needed, the reassurance given without having to ask and voluntarily is much more important than asking.
We have to speak to our loved ones as if they are the wisest, kindest, most beautiful and magical people on earth - for what we believe, we become. I expect a lot and believe that they are capable of it too.
The point is, to choose your partner, its the cherry on to top of loving fully. To choose them is to give them what they need, even when you don't think you can give anymore. Choosing to do so forever and always adoring them like the first few months when you were trying to woo them. Letters, gestures, acts and deeds. Remember, they are a lot more important to you now than then.
I sit outside in the back garden with the dog and time stands still. Reading has come back with love, enfolding me in its comfortable embrace. There are also news to be read outside. The spinach being attacked by the snails being the first headline, the giant moth that had been circling above me as I fell asleep is now being eaten by ants, it's worldly remains almost disappeared. Cries of help coming from the lady bug trying to keep herself afloat in the puppy's water bucket. Then rescue missions.
Life is a pleasant pasture when you have this much, and the love of your loved ones.
Third of December and it rained later that evening. Walking back from the station, in a secluded corner of the park, I saw two teenagers cuddling and kissing. As if they couldn't get enough of each other, the urgency of young love, devouring. I missed that time, of my own. Wishing I could be a teenager with my lover and then realized, I am. Everything from the teen to the devouted, wise, loved lover in her 80s. I have the similar, but better and what's more, the urgency continues on.
Night rain was cleansing, The air laced with the aroma, cool and fragrant. We had peaches to peel and pit. Puppy likes peaches.
Here I shall stop. Uppity up, says the coming year. May it be full of pleasant urgency driven kisses, New adventures, New trips, dreams coming true and successes. Good health, wisdom and more love, experiences and happiness together with my loved ones. Magical in its entirety. May also the world find peace.
Let's make it a pleasant pasture and an amazing year, May our hearts soar.