Ladies

Ladies
representing different times and moods

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

My strawberry dress

Today, I donned my strawberry dress and ventured out of our tiny, precious little house. I have been a hermit for the last few days, and it was liberating to go on a walk.

Wearing a well loved dress has a power of its own. It gave me back all my good memories, humor and enchanting times that I have had wearing it. Life becomes brighter in those well loved clothes.

After a long time, as I walked, my brain was forming pros. It was not painfully sifting through visions and shadows which I couldn't stop and which in turn made me want to bash my head against something, HARD. My eyes constantly fighting tears. Not a day going past on which I'd be alone and hadn't shed a tear.

Today, (13 - 04 - 16) I was looking around , touching the flowers and kissing them, looking up inside the moving branches of trees, listening to their whispers. Saying hello to the birds. I was walking on the thin verge ,balancing and then jumping off and on, my skirts twitched and flared as my long, voluminous dress comforted me with its silk lining on my naked skin, with its reassuring weight on my slight frame. Men, on their evening runs, slowing down and acknowledging me. Two even stopping to say they had noticed I hadn't been around much. I've never needed to do more than be me and people are kind to me. I do not know when I have become the main character, but of course ,I am the heroin of my own story.  It feels good, To again be me.

For a while I was afraid I may have lost my magic.

In the past few months, so many have called me crazy. Yes of course I am crazy. But for one who has so idealized love her whole life for its power, truth and purity, this is maybe understandable . My own innocence drives me to bedlam. I expect it to do the impossible though - I have found the kind of love that can shift mountains, only if I would let it. 

I found my soul wishing for something really hard, something that was not in my hands , something I couldn't control or change. This feeling intensified as my own feelings of worthlessness and insecurity increased and then part of me started living in the past, the past became the present for me, it still is the present in some parts. It has a pulsating life of its own and we are trying to make peace.

Why? Why? Why? Why didn't you wait? My soul cried out in pain every waking moment. Why not me? Why those? How those? How? How? How do I erase those? How do I know I am really better then them? Am I? Why won't someone say so? Why can't I have more validation and re assurance ? Why can't I know about it? Why hide anything from me? Why? Why?

Knowing the senselessness and meaninglessness of my thoughts didn't stop them.I called myself many bad names, attributed things to myself which I in all honesty , didn't do. I pulled myself even lower because I was behaving less than perfectly in my own eyes.

I had indeed plunged in to one of the darkest times in my life. Where even thoughts of death seemed to occur at times in my supposedly "ever bright" brain. I have emerged slightly with a lot of self talk but mostly , with great help from the people that love me, unconditionally. Almost.

I will be brave.
Because I can't pretend that the past didn't happen,
I can't ignore.
So I must take the harder path,
and come to terms with things.

I don't like secrets. They act like thorns in my sides. I can't ignore something that I know I don't know. I tried burying my thoughts under work, movies and stories - and thus the thoughts came to me in my dreams. They became nightmares, pushing me to acknowledge and either keep dreaming up stories or find out the truth. I found the truth was much more bearable than the ghosts playing in my imagination. Yes admittedly, there are some more fringe questions that might need answering, but I am much at peace.

I do understand how my consciousness works. I am lucky to have a lover who has chosen to support me, in probably my worst patch. So much that I hardly recognize some of my behavioral patterns. I don't like the food that I cook, I don't feel hungry. I don't want to bubble over with news and excitement to my friends. He has stood by me strong and true. I've tried to not make it hard on him -   However, this also says something about our love and how we have developed admirably. So that makes me happy indeed.

I've put myself under strict rules of behavior , and each day that passes makes me I wish I hadn't. Its hard ,extremely hard to not talk about things when I've cultivated my whole personality around honest and clear communication. I can not wait to finish this disciplinary actions that I have taken on myself ( Did it because I want to be fair, to give him some breathing space. I know he needs it and to check myself - if it is wanton curiosity, there is no need to entertain it) New questions pop up to torture me, and nightmares still haunt me. Admittedly, the intensity and frequency has decreased, and my little experiment has had a considerable and laudable success. The amount of questions popping up has decreased too. Once one knows everything, logically, there should be no more to ask. Either that, or one would have talked about something so much that there would be no more to ask about it. I am aiming for that peaceful exit one day! I am not one who can ignore something that is hard, I have to do the hard first.

Glad, so very glad, for the success! For the relief!

There is still a presence that taints my every unwary moment, and in my sleep , stalks me. It is dark and it taunts me. There are still secrets and some questions,, Because things still don't make sense or add up and make me imagine. I awaken and it is there, laughing in my face. Spiteful and contemptuous. Early ,dark lonely hours of the last two mornings are the ones that made me regret making my promise but then as the day rises I feel better, I actively be better. I will be true. I know I can do it. Meanwhile I sincerely hope they will go without requiring answers and I am going to give it my honest, full force go. We shall see. If not, we shall fix it too. We can. I know.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger! same goes for love. Every battle you have to fight together brings you closer, teaches you the intricacies of anther's brain. As long as you choose to fight on the same side, together. Nothing will be able to beat that combined force of love. Make sure you're on the same side and not against each other. Ever.

Even arguments against each other should be resolved from the same side, together.

This has brought us more close, if that was possible. It has. I may hurt, but I can see that plain fact. I kind of suspect this year is also a test year, I remember saying this at the start of the year, my gut told me that we shall learn a lot this year and if we manage to pass it together, comforting, supporting and loving each other, we would have passed the ultimate test set us by the universe. We would know, without a single doubt, but I for one already do know. Without a doubt. 

I shall also be kind to myself. No more name calling. I am a good hearted person. I am a kind, gentle, happy and empathetic person who , for once in her life, needs the same back. I love fully and without reservations. I hide nothing. One who has a vivid imagination and a pure soul which is rather naive. That's all.

Who said love is static? It simply grows , as you keep being fascinated, how delightful that there will always be something new to do, and learn.

"Half Knowledge is deadly, it does so much damage, (whereas full knowledge is liberating, saddening or not) as it leaves so much room for imagination, and an active imagination can kill one too."

Read the last post from January. I knew something was coming. I knew about this year. I can not say I was prepared. Nothing would have prepared me for this much sorrow.

Do you ever wonder at the heightened hues of flowers as the light rapidly dissipates at dusk? What makes them glow fiery reds and mystical violets , and blues of the most resplendent hues? They know the magic of the night is coming, and they are ready to dance in their best finery. Nights are my friends. Dreams are my vehicles of enchantment. I will get back my peace er' nights. I shall again learn to sleep peacefully when on my own. To like my food and bubble over with excitement for life. I shall once again fall asleep with an all knowing, playful, innocent smile on my lips as the sweet perfume of the fragile night flowers floats around me, and sweet dreams will keep me company in my peaceful slumber. This shall happen again. I know it shall.

Whatever discomfort this year brings, it also brings revelations. It is requiring us to strip down to our souls and bare all of our hearts. Maybe it is because this is a year of miracles, it has seen quite a few miracles already actually. Even when I plunge so in misery, I believe it has a reason.

So many intimate moments. So many grand adventures. Trips, tramps and first experiences. So many true words of love. My mother. This country. My man. His family.

My graduation, Dolphins, Snorkeling, seals, Kangaroos, Meals, meeting parents,camping, touring, traveling, having big big talks, all grown up for us little ones. And cats!! and Kids. And lots of walks, New places and snow like sands, races, camping and celestial bodies. Walking in pitch dark, becoming nocturnal and observing the stars, becoming time travelers.

Oh the grandness of so many things happening all at once. The gladness it fills me with. I still do count my blessings, which are many. He is one of them.

Someday I shall look back at this year with wonderment and amusement.... Perhaps even I shall shake my head at the folly of my soul for the torment it has experienced. However I do believe that I am growing from this experience.

I am grieving about something that is gone, which I am powerless to change. I am also healing, because while knowledge may sadden me, it also allows me to heal.

Oh, how good does it feel to be mending again. To be living again. To be whole, and fully present. Slowly and slowly I shall be me again. It is a good feeling to know I have support. Thank you, my dearest.

Everyone thinks their love is great. Why not? We are all living, breathing worlds that almost have separate universes. We reserve the right to say so then, don't we?

"The real currency of true love is open - hearted transparency. Love keeps no secrets.
The ability to own your truth,desires, pain, fears, dreams, hopes and all. The desire to support the other ones no matter what it takes. Love allows you to be human. Then there is faith - that you are allowed to be less than perfect, to be you, in your changing - shifting form, an unwavering belief in something you find true, good & beautiful. Faith requires an unreasonable audacity. It is something you create in yourself, by yourself and hold on to bravely when doubts try to jolt you. True love is cultivated with intention, over patches of clover fields and sharp slopes of mountains, wherever you may be however, the view is beautiful. You are alive. So rejoice, for you are truly living and not just existing. You touch the divine. Full open hearted loving can be the hardest thing,but it is also the bravest - not everyone can do it. Shrinking back to mediocrity would be sad, more so when you don't have any evidence of resurrection and of a divine love again.
A grand love is for the brave."

 Sometimes, I do feel lonely. I feel like every one is too far away. As if only one person is too much of my world here. My friends rely on me for emotional support , but I have personally only really been open to very few people, and mostly it has been family / the one that I love. It is my insecurity talking ,when I feel scared. I haven't missed him so much ever before,the need to run to him has never been greater. even when I was over seas - because in the time of turmoil, when I am with him, I am most secure. Calm and collected.But good judgment and discipline will prevail.

I will be my own again , though. I will be with him because I want to and not because I need to.

He is like a calm harbor, over hung by fruit trees. Where I may anchor and jump off in the water, with him and be safe. He will provide shadow and sustenance. In his wisdom, like ripe fruit. Like a serene river, he soothes me. Even when he annoys me, he makes me laugh. I remember the time when he held my hand through out two long snorkeling swims on Rottnest, introducing me to the wonderful world underwater. When I gasped and panicked as I saw the sparkling sand wayyyyyy under, and realized my feet had no chance of touching there if I suddenly forgot how to swim.  He pulled me up and calmed me. Every single time I did that. Held my hand all the time, magic at its best. Also When he put me behind him, securing me, shielding me with his body from jelly fish stings.When he came to me to check my snorkels before each of my swims with the dolphins, removing my hair from under it, strapping it, keeping a close eye on me even while he took pictures. Always my rock. He has no affected manners, he wins by his honesty and his good heart. His caring. He is my champion, each time he opens my door, cleans my seat, cooks for me or pays me a compliment with his eyes or words. His words are very special. He wins my heart again. But he wins me most when he lets me in, trusts me implicitly and opens up his heart when I need to see it. I value the trust more than even my own comfort or feelings. He is a brave boy but he calls me brave. I am probably just less frightened about some things.

We once got lost on our tramps, it was frustrating, it was infuriating and saddening to know that we might not reach our final destination after so much planning and a whole day of driving, but, in the nick of time, we did. Like many travelers will testify is wont to happen if you really wish for something. Those trips are always the most magical. Last it happened with the valley of flowers for me, and then it did with the Pinnacles. We however, kept it together , and didn't get annoyed. We were rewarded by the most magical evening in one of the most unique landscapes in the world.

Then we went climbing. A journey that was pretty challenging and we saw again how we support one another when the going gets tough. How we can rely on each other. How insightful a mountain can be, how revealing and how challenging. The rewards are great and the springs taste of paradise.

When he complained to his little niece, about her stealing his kisses from me, That melted my heart to glowing golden liquid of pure, golden joy.

Feeling grateful to have your loved one is the key to lasting enchantment with each other. Always focus on the kindness, the selfless support and encouragement. Ask for what you need, but do not blame.Be gentle, do the one extra bit.  Do not keep secrets. Be giving. Try to not hold back, but communicate if you are fearful. Understand each others pain and views. Understand how each others brains work.This will stay when the bodies grow frail - love will stay, it will grow. If you allow it to, if you don't expect it to just work, but you make it work , not as a chore, but because you get to ! not many do! Not many have that love, that much truth and generosity and kindness for each other.

It is true that we influence each other more than we realize, do your best to inspire the things you want.

And talk, always talk, no matter how crazy it may sound.
Remember - you get to, not that you have to.

Sometimes, when you plunge in the darkest ,deepest waters, you find the pearls. The stars shine the brightest on the darkest of nights. One understands so many new things and grows. We learn that all our love talk is not made of fluff, but is diamond solid inside. Hearts open up and grow more closer and confident, trusting.Not shying away from our past. Thus we find that we are , after all, indeed extraordinary.



This one was written before the strawberry dress and never published. So I thought while I am at it, I might as well. (written around Feb 20 -16)

<3 <3 <3 <3

He will be,
worth the wait.
Because, aren't you?

Love blossoms, when you think the other one is awesome.

Love, how can it be practical. How can it be the usual or the mediocre, everything else in life is ....

love makes the world go around, well technically its the gravity. The dent in the carpet of the universe. Maybe, its the pull of the love between the celestial bodies, the pull of the lovers. There is an attraction between everything, even the universes are rushing around trying to collide! Why, if all is not love - what is it?
Love is that everyday thing that remains special. It stays constant.

I used to dream of having a poem weaving lover, one who would weave off words to me ,for me, on his each breath. I seem to be doing it myself. Each thing that I used to dream of, I make it happen. I do them myself. I am my own lover, to rely on others may not always happen. Each time one has to remind them , a little fairy dies in my heart. But one waits, and keeps waiting. For that letter than hasn't come yet, but which might someday, for those special endearments, because I would really appreciate it. One waits, and expects , because one does the same.

"What is to dream, if not to hope, and what is to hope, if not to expect." Miss Jane could gauge us hopeless romantics so very well.
 Poor Elinore, no wonder she almost died.

How you love is the most accurate portrayal of how you wish to be loved. Each time there is a slight tiff, I feel physically sick.

Finding out that someone is still not sure of you enough when you have put away all your inhibitions and disregarded all the whispers of caution to flagrantly declare yourself is an extremely bitter pill to swallow, one tries to be graceful with it.
Love, what a torturous thing it is.It teaches one so much patience.

An artist's life is essentially sorrowful, and joyful in that sorrow. There is an existential crisis happening in the minds of those that think - at all times. The finite time we all are given is a constantly remembered happenstance , but the vanity or need - whatever you may choose to call it makes them strive just as much. They are also the most joyous and celebratory - for why would you not celebrate such a beautiful life. An artist, a philosopher, a thinker or just a spiritual person can never be mindlessly sad - but they will have a lurking sorrow just behind their mindless joy of being alive.  ( - hah!! )

Every ending is simply a new beginning.
Nothing ends, nothing.
All is a beginning.
Welcome to the new now.

*New End note - True love heals, it doesn't flee at the first hurdle. It strives and tries, soothes and understands , is courageous and kind.  I now know how well I am loved. Thank you, O Universe for I am grateful.

Saturday, January 2, 2016

This year of adventures.

I said to my life, I want adventures.

This chant has haunted me all my life. Running through my blood which is probably too red. I dream in a horrifyingly rapid succession that can be somewhat exhausting. Like those who know me will tell you, my "I want to do something new" never runs dry.


Means not that I don't like a stoic and gentle life. I can meditate your pants off and keep the kitchen cleaner than your mom. (why am I writing like this?) But give my brain an unimaginative day and I will start feeling desperate. Its not how much you do in a day, but how much you use your brain, make something new, feel something new or express something deep (hypocrisy much? )Or meditate on the quality of light filtering through a window pane.. Sometimes so much that I make a running dash from those who I love, and start feeling the need to find something else. But I have always come back, as love is a bright, brilliant, warm flame, guiding me home. I need a home, an anchor.
Sometimes I think so much that I have to simply shut down. Breath, put on brakes like I have trained myself to and just look at the leaves. Then I feel like myself again.

If you are someone who doesn't belong in the 5 people that I talk to most in the world. This blog post is not going to make sense to you. Leave. Now. Save your time. 

Yesterday someone asked me what was the point of having a good imagination? I don't think there will be much left to me if it was taken away. I have started this year on a restless note - this sure promises to be a year of many happenings of interest and passionate doings. Sometimes I fear myself and how much I feel. I have two sides, one is extremely emotional, wild and intuitive. The other one is scientific, reasonable and collected/calm. They make a very colourful personality and I try and do justice to all and myselve/s but this can be very confusing too.

And surprises,  I love surprises. I like efforts. I love flowers, Bunches of them tied in a string. Wild or cultivated, But mostly wild. In my hair, on my dresses and in my hand. Twinkling lights, moon lit walks and fire flies. Unexpected letters and heart felt words - Relationships that never grow old. Silly gestures of romance brighten my memory lane like throbbing orbs of light. I like being taken care of by gallant gentlemen in my life and those that I meet who keep me feeling very ladylike - crazy but a lady nonetheless.

This blog post is going to be shamelessly about me, I care not to say anything about the world in this or of anyone else - unless they are related to me - its about me. Sit back and relax, as I ride out the waves of emotions flowing through my body, confusing and erupting me in to flames and cold sweat of dread. Indecision / confusion has never sat well with me. 

So - love. Its torturous. Why do we love. We love because its beautiful, It is the most beautiful of emotions, almost as good as hope and as bright as happiness but with these two combined with something more darker, more deeper. It doesn't complete us however, neither should it. Its not its purpose. Its purpose is to teach us about us. About the world and this universe, but mostly about us. What we learn from it is up to us and how we incorporate this in our personality is up to us too. I've become me through love. By loving the people that I do love and fully loving myself in all my quirkiness. I learn my limitations, my kindness and my pettiness, the things that I let go of, what irritates me more than that other thing ,things that are truly important to me and things that make me worry as I love more, as I love others. For all my claims at being a wild woman at heart, I worry for everyone and everything that I care for - not  sure how that is not my purpose however, as that is what the wild mothers do, too.

I miss Ireland even without ever having been there. Venice and Roma - the same. More than any of those however, I miss Africa, its swaying golden grass and lions that roar of the ancient secrets.

I want to learn to dance this year, something that suits my kind of red. I will write more, a lot more than what I did last year , a year that went by in a flash. A year in which I was blissfully happy so many times, A year in which I created so many breath taking moments, things that are special,very special. I am ever so grateful for 2015, but now I want more, so I shall create more. Sometimes, even  blissfully happy doesn't work. Sometimes life makes me restless and makes me want to pace, like a caged lioness. I have this almost inhuman need to be productive of something that will last ,even after I am gone. Its this annoying thing about wanting to live forever. I used to dream of it as a child. I say I want satisfaction and happiness - but well, for me they also look like world domination ;)  That is just a lame joke - I really care not to conquer by anything but love, but there is some truth in what I have implied. I need to be loved and appreciated, I like that lime light on me. I like to shine. That seems to be a core purpose of my life. To shine. I am fire, if I am not burning , it means I am dying.
Every creative soul feels too much. see the parallels.

Enough about my dreams and stuff. I am feeling rebellious and that is why I am writing. Much better be burning up with passions of a hundred colours than be complacent and bored.  I have this unbearable yearning for the girl that I was, with a breast full of tumultuous feelings , a heart brimming over with phrases that shout to be written down and remembered. I am a creature of nights when I am like this, and heady cool summer winds make me more crazy. My heart expands and there is pain, as I look at and feel the beauty of the world, its so beautiful it makes my heart hurt. There is this contained restless energy in me, how do I love back this awesome world that loves me so and gives me perfect, breezy , star studded nights. I want to run and let the breeze cool my skin which seems to radiate all the heat that my heart creates. I want to flow too, like water at times. But most of all, I want to wear beautiful dresses and look mysterious.


There is a reason why I am in a complete complaint mode lately. I figure things out as I write them. I haven't been creating - in a long while. I haven't made time to create.  To write for myself, make something with my hands and towards the life that I want to live. I do not respect you when I complain about what you like, you don't complain about what I like to do. When I judge other people, I am also judging myself. I look for the things in them that I want in myself. I can't wish for anyone to be me, what's the point in that. I also fear being wrong, completely terrified of the thought and almost ready to chicken out, The cowardly admission. I am Diva, I don't chicken out just because its more challenging, I face up to it, and I love the out of the comfort zone idea. I expect so much of myself and of you. We must pay attention to each other, no matter what. You risk so much more as you grow closer and more closer. It is here and it is scary. Why the hell am I - a person who loves so much, always so scared about love? Not the all encompassing love, but the pointed, exclusive and sacred love. Sharply in focus. I have to not let my self consume myself at times. This is the problem with the likes of us, we love too much and then feel scared at its potency. Must learn to be balanced, but the brain files a new passion along with all the other passions and makes it a driving force of life, as if your life depended on it. That is too much, says my rational side. Poor thing. 

Be warned, I am not always rational. No creative soul is. 

So, world, I come to you this year. Expecting to be more successful, more blessed and more magical. Let life glitter - I am greedy, I am driven. I want so much out of life. I am not writing considerately for the world today, but the world knows I will always have its best at heart. I can not help it , what I love - I must preserve and nurture.  Let me come closer to my goals, let my intentions be pure and my actions true. But most of all, let me be brave, let me be passionate and colourful, let me be wise and patient. But most of all, let me stay true to myself. Only then can I stay true to others. 

Truth be told, I am pretty satisfied with life, along with the little ups and downs, I actually am living a dream of mine. I always wanted to live alone in a country other than mine, where I had to start from scratch, maybe even with a cat, watching what I want, reading what I want and doing what I want. No other girl has had such freedom in my family before, you are never allowed to live alone in India or out of India. I don't know anyone with this description, actually. It took a lot of determination to have my way, always gently but solidly. I know I can. I know its always better to discuss and give and take, rather than be stubborn, there is no sense in it. I don't mind working, as long as I am feeling that I am working towards another dream, another aspiration. Work is a power that you constantly employ to live the kind of life that you want. I am greedy, yet I am thankful. I am in love.  I can do more. I can always do more. What a great and powerful possibility. There will always be a new place to visit, a new fruit to try and a new book to read and more love to give, A new dance to learn. Everyday will bring new surprises and people that will show you love.

Let me always be me.  What is precious is when you find someone who lets you be you.



It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.


It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for Love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with Wildness!
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
 of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

We can love this world together.

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Wishin on Meteors



Twinkling, shuddering, blazing sky.
All the colours of a rainbow,
Red, blue and white.
Meteors rain on,bringing light.
As, the sky retains its darkness, in all that light,
I was enough - before.
The whole world was, alas, enough before.
Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t met you.
Pains of parting were a plenty, before you.
But yours has a keenness of a different hue.
Sometimes it seems unfair,
To have so many, away.
Whichever side, each stays half,
Complete – ever are we?
Free, we are bound, and bound, we are free.
Hopefully.


Wednesday, April 15, 2015

On the first night of winter

The rustled whispers,
Of moving boughs.
Go through my eyes,
To my heart.

Talk to us, they say,
Let us see, they say.
Under those layers,
beats a warm heart.

Overflowing with wonder,
Ah! what a blessing.
That the magic of the night,
Should always survive.

Delight, that you can hear,
The howls of the Saharan winds,
Carried, on the whispers here.
Or the scent of the gurgling ocean,
so near.
So much - oh delight!
That you can smell the Savannah,
ere light!

Blessed, Blessed, sung my heart,
In reply to the wind's demand.
For I am a particle,
here and no where, thus everywhere.
I am a thought,
A vision,
An idea.

Feet, weary, of polished floors,
fall naked, on cushions of green.
Grass, full of pearls,
half a quiver, half freezing.
Roses, a bloom, in a garden,
Regained their perfumes,
Tonight.

Each a subtle song,
Carried on the cool air.
What changed O' flowers?
You never smelled in Summer.
Maybe all that is touched,
By this wind of everywhere,
Echoes and calls,
Sings everywhere.

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I want to walk with you,
These streets , full of memories,
Let us not talk,
Let us not speak.
Just walk,
Observe,
Discover
And delight.

I show you something, you show me something else,
I talk to the flowers, you laugh with them,
We, in a reverie , but not alone,
not together either.
Just being.
There.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I came home after work and was excited with the prospect of having an evening off , usually, my days are full to the brim, up until 9 pm most days, after which I come home, shower and go to bed after talking with people.I went for a walk, I wrote, and am still excited  at the prospect of cooking hot dinner and eating it off of a plate and not a lunch box, a hasty something put together in the wee hours of the morning, cold but sustaining. I am going to cook something amazing and gorge on it.

Love me world :)

Friday, April 3, 2015

Indescribable beauty of moments.

I was sitting in the university lab and working on the Ebola rapid response Hospital in Kenema, the only place with a specialized Lassa fever ward. I have formed a special affinity with that place thanks to the New Yorker's amazing correspondent Richard Preston,(http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/10/27/ebola-wars)  and that led me to the Viral Hemorrhagic Fever Consortium (http://vhfc.org/home) . Such inspiring people!

Working twice on studios which have a specific humanitarian and sustainability focus, I have newly discovered a new direction.

Anyhow, that all being the professional passion chatter, I was talking with mom and she told me to go home as I am unwell, why - what is the point of going home? She said you should rest. Agreed, I should, but what is there to go home for? No one awaits me, those who care about my being sick are thousands of miles away.(Though my room and my creating projects do exude a sublime kind of love to me.)At least, in University, there are people who have shared grievances, the minds working rapidly and to solve some problems of the world, and the university offered up a friend who came and gave me a hug.

The right work is always right, the right time and place will come and find me. I now know why people devote their lives to causes, it just is such a powerful thing, knowing that you can make a difference, if you tried. In this world of the west - only a single life style change has the potential to end so much suffering.

As an artist, as a person driven by the need to capture beauty,  sometimes I am overwhelmed by some looks of myself, like now while working on the computer, I see my reflection, in a repose, resting my arm and staring at the black window of the drawing - I am struck by the view and the need to capture it in the right way - and then I feel the helplessness, the inability to actually capture the right view by the virtue of being entirely unable to move - what a waste , I go on, that I am stuck in this body, limiting my ability to capture it. Here is no vanity, nor any pride, just a slight sense of loss and frustration.

How absolutely weird.
I wish I could paint.

Then, late at night, walking home to feed myself and to sleep, I came up on a clump of grass, perfect in its roundness, with the circular periphery made of high greens quivering in the night air. I stepped neatly in that circle, and looked up at the stars framing the moon , I could have been in the Savannah, in Africa , with lions rustling away slowly towards their prey. My heart expands and envelopes my mind, as I get transported just by mere imagination, I can even smell it.

I think a silent observer would really be intrigued as I walk down anywhere, night or day , as I am constantly in communication with the elements, things and seasons. I'd flop and frisk, look at things with dancing eyes or forlornly, bow down low and run, speak and sing- how can one not, in our world of absolute beauty. My walks are the tools of connection, of being inspired, and of healing when I miss people too much. Being me, I have had to learn exactly how to hug myself close and form a cocoon, doesn't always work - and the world always helps and shows me love. I don't make it easy on myself, I am a harsh task master, sometimes it is a lonely journey requiring courage, but then, we must remain true to a life with purpose. There is no more sure fire way to unhappiness,as you will hate yourself and those who love you if you don't remain true to yourself. But this of course doesn't mean that I am not there for them, in a way I am more with them than ever before- I believe I am much more open and connected to them after I have come away, I've seen their qualities that I hadn't noticed before, their faith and courage, and also how much they actually mean to me, how very important their being in my life is. Si, Distance does open up our eyes and we no longer have the luxury to take anyone for granted.

Loneliness leads to a deeper understanding of self. It has been a philosophical experience as much as a cultural and social one. I now understand what they mean that life is, in its essence, a walk alone.
Not that I would mind having my brother to show all the insects, or my dad to teach me about all those insects so that I can teach it to my brother.
And mom,so she can tell me about the pickle recipe or how the Kitchen is a chemistry lab. 
I am truly blessed to have the people that are in my life.

Going by the number of fascinating, lovely people I meet everyday - you'd think I would just be overrun with friendships and connections! :) That is a blessing too.

Another eternal truth, no matter how much you know someone,something, there is always something new to discover, be pleasantly surprised at, to celebrate. If two people grow together, I do not see how this new notion of "bored of them" works.

Last night, I was coming back from university, awaiting my bus and working out a fulfilling way of loving.

"I look at the stars, and the moon,
In their eternal love for me,
I do not feel alone.

I smile at the flowers,
Kissing them with dewy lips,
Only they relieve the hunger,
For yours."


Once, I was passing by the Art Gallery, the cultural precinct is such an interesting place, and overheard this from an older lady, "I don't know why you listen to me, I never would!"  :)

I dream of grand escapades and adventures, and indeed, they are AWESOME, I do value the everyday beauty of the dandelions, I do not understand how anyone can be bored - it is just an unwillingness to face up to the uncomfortable feelings generated within, I believe this generation is the most hidden one, they hide their qualities, the ability to be kind, loving, generous, they are afraid to love, they are afraid to show loss, or to grieve in public, to show all the natural emotions, but they are not afraid to be profane, to be rude or to hurt. 

We need to be more compassionate, to ourselves, first of all. Compassion doesn't make you weak, it makes you courageous enough to face up to the realities of what you are feeling. You are not bored, you are afraid to be alone, you are afraid of thinking, of feeling. The hiding behind screens and televisions discourages thoughtfulness, creating, and living. Though, not meant in the regimental sense, as there is always so much to learn.

"See it all, observe, its around you. Everywhere you go, find all the pleasure there is in this world and live it. Smile at every passer by and touch every leaf..... love is always in the air."

I believe I would like half an hour every night of just lying under the stars with my beloved.

We are meant to look at the stars, its in our genes and good for the heart.
 "How gladdening and ennobling it is to look up at the night sky,fringed with the dark silhouette of leafy trees, that in the scheme of life, that beauty is eternal."

Now, dear reader, get ready to form a picture in your head.
"The bus passing by. A young man of about 20 ,on a bicycle, framed by leafy trees. A cloudy afternoon with diffused lights and high wind. His features are very delicate, Noble yet frail, dark green lively eyes, accentuated by the same green of his jacket. Through the glass our eyes meet and I smile, wanting to convey my pleasure at the beauty of the human form."

I am sure this conjured up very different images for each one - I really wonder if pictured, what each would look like?

If I pass by something that pleases me, I tell it, for the world tells me the same and it pleases me to no end and I like to keep the circle going. Beauty is no one's property, nor is spirit, it comes and fades,though one hopes the spirit keeps.

Last night, I dreamt of being home, I dreamt of my mother,hugging me and cooking for me,I dreamt of helping her like usual in the kitchen, and my brother there, telling me of one of his escapades as I put my head on his lap. I was also writing this to someone special - telling him how amazing it felt to be taken care of, and to be there, and while writing, I was crying, then I woke up crying, mumbling something to my mother. My eyes slowly focused on the bird on my wall, sent by my friend in Canada to help make me make my room mine , and I realised I was no where near that sun drenched room opening up to tall trees and loud calls of birds. Oh the emptiness.

Recently, it must have been a rougher ride than I gave it credit for. I've grown to love toiling away, this must also have a rather obvious connection to the other students complaining about how their mother was always asking why they are late for dinner and how inconvenient it is to go home to eat (well! you have someone who cooks for you and wants you to come and eat! :P ) and my chat with a married lady yesterday, who is one of the students under my care and she is almost having a breakdown with the amount of work in her Bachelors first year and how she can't cope with Architecture and family. She has three kids, and architectural studies seem to require a full time relationship with it only :P I am not the wisest in that situation, but blocking off certain time zones usually helps, as well as asking for help. So while there are kids, there is a husband too - see! There,already a silver lining.

At least I get to feel empty, that gets me creating! It is like I feed on words when I write, I always seem to skip meals :P

Recently, a friend posted this image, and to end I shall put this out for anyone who wants to use it again (of course it isn't mine)
I'd say, why just a photographer? That is inadequate - it should be a video and you can always do a screen grab! :P

“The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter —often an unconscious but still a faithful interpreter—in the eye.” ~ Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

 



Monday, March 9, 2015

Embittered hearts and the healing of the species.

Human kind needs to be healed.

It suffers from imagined problems as well as the very real ones, created mostly by the imagined ideas of misguided people in powerful positions.


It has never before been so clear to me that human kind has gone around and around and hurt its psyche so much that all I can feel is pity and sorrow for it. It is sad.

I am going to proceed on to feeling angelic!*

 Well, to be honest, I just want to keep writing sentimental poetry and not write about the social problems. Really, who cares.
I do. Which is the problem.

I can't do "impersonal" so well as the westerners. Gosh, can they do that !

Neil was going on about why it is important to be "unavailable, selfish and mysterious" to stay in a marriage, that if you left your better half hanging, always not quite fulfilling their need of your availability and affection, it will keep them hooked to you.
 I said, "So keep the relationship a unhappy, unhealthy one,


 As they say, you always have a choice, don't let bad experiences harden you so much that you miss out on living.
 I don't do venom ,or vindictiveness
 Too much energy that can be used for better pursuits.
 if I don't like something ,I say it. I get angry, I get sad. I don't get jealous or want revenge.

" connection and attraction are not mutually exclusive " I firmly believe this.

 I really don't understand today's generations sadistic views towards what they shall find in love, why presume what you don't even know. I just find that the more partners people change, the more dissatisfied they are,for they leave a little bit of themselves with them, and that is never back no matter how you move on. That is why today's relationships are so fragile. Everyone is also ready to "find someone better". People didn't complain so much ,they used to be happy ,in love and content with their love, they did all the things they wanted together. And also understood that sometimes, setting those we love free is the greatest expression of love. Love is not dependency, and when you rely on someone else to make you happy, you put too much on their shoulders, they might buckle under the weight. That being said, love is also doing things for each other without being asked, when you have to ask, this might breed resentment. When we do things just cause we know that will make the other ones happy, we make them pure and true. No one changes for anyone, and one shouldn't expect them to, but there is no bigger a proof of love, when they change ,slowly, from within, to better love you.




People seem to have forgotten that everyone is essentially different, yet it is worth making the effort for someone. They also seem to be so lost to the fact that love drives the world, and love is not "only" the romantic kind, (which is only a meagre 10% of all types of love). To me, most sacred is the love between friends, love that comes without expectations of any kind.

Questioning how I know if their sex lives were (of those old days) "oh so amazingly hot" is futile- as I don't. But most were more happier and truer.and more "together" (That's the kind of questions Neil does ask sometimes)

The truth can not be denied that the society was much more happier as a whole when there were less sexual partners involved.I am not advocating staying a virgin until you marry or something like that, nor am I religiously inclined - don't get me wrong.I am just stating facts as they appear. I am totally advocating waiting for the special connection, and for someone who truly is worthy of such intimacy. When we value what is happening and cherish it. 

 That a little bit of control or understanding before indulgence would do this society a world of good.
 Because, today it seems, the sacredness of that particular human contact is essentially lost.That is all. Keep it important.
(until here, it was written a while back, with some new edits - I am so horrible) 

Do we really want to live in a world where the idea of love is mocked, hearts are lonely and young ones become cynics before they hit puberty.

Connections of kindness if what we need, where we do things that have no reciprocation apart from spreading the feeling of having done something that we wanted to do because it felt good.

And - on that note, I will admit that there are many such things and doings that I encounter ,each day, everyday! SO the world is running well and true and I need not feel so bad after all! (and not let the cynics drive the ideas!)

I love to write letters, I wrote a letter to a family who extended their warm hospitality and love to us when we travelled to the desert of Kutchh some years back. The son of the house wrote to me on facebook with the photo of the letter after a few years, asking if it was me, and inviting us back whenever we might be able to go.

Pretty ,beautiful, old fashioned letters!


Just like the Lamas from the monasteries high up in my favourite mountains, kindness connects us all. (A Buddhist friend recently told me they shouldn't have been corresponding with me anyway , poor creatures - I was a breach of their vows, woops,sorry guys )

And after having said this all  - I have no clue what romantic love is supposed to feel like, and it frightens me to death. Each time when I think of it, I feel the charisma of the thought , the magic of the connection, the eternalness of it - and also the horrific notion of being tied down, of becoming complacent and comfortable,of loosing my aspirations.

I do not know how to balance it, how to not be so frightened. I, the one who loves the world, frightened of love? What kind of a twisted joke is that.

Maybe there is a start of an answer here , in this article that I found this morning. I always seem to find what I really need to read. (well I am no where NEAR those two questions mentioned there) She is right, some times, we asks too many questions. Maybe I am putting too much pressure on things and I need to live in the now, just in the now. Which is very hard for someone like me who is a thinker - but don't we always learn :)

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/08/is-he-or-she-the-one-ask-these-2-questions-kimby-maxson/

So apparently, for the first time, mother is unable to understand or help, she is the one who questioned and shook me up, so I must dig around in the brains of the brilliants (no more brill than me ma ya hear!) to bolster my courage. Bloody hell, how can it feel so right and be so scary ( the element of having only grudging approval?) . Or is it just a fancy of my extravagant mind that always insists on over analysing.

Maybe I just need to go away on a trip :)

Maybe it is just the question of balancing my ego - the notion of "I" and another. With my people, they feel like an extension of me , or I feel like an extension of their existence. We are essentially not a different people, while yes we are different persons. Forging another such covalent bond might very naturally feel alien, like a foreign body entering the blood stream. The key is to give it time, to not rush things and trust in the universe.

But mostly, it is the question of not questioning the fear , it is there because it is natural, it is real. It is there because I care a lot. To understand that what we have been fed as a "general idea of romance" is a fad , real love takes work and time and it is frighting. I am probably not the only one who has questions, and it is ok to have them. Just like my attitude towards things outside of my comfort zone, what seems too complicated has something that makes it worth it. Rational awareness and being open to change, growth and uncertainty teaches us how to be our better selves. There are no maps in life. Firstly, I must relate well to what scares me, so that I can learn from it - after all, accepting this doesn't make me weak, it just makes me an artist who sees the alchemical properties of beautiful, wild things that roam free in the dark enchanted forests and know that each are there.      

Like Steinback said very wisely to his son, "Nothing good gets away."

http://www.brainpickings.org/2012/01/12/john-steinbeck-on-love-1958/ 

Understand that this is definitely not designed to push anyone away :) 

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Now is the time to share what I wrote to my beloved-s on/ near V day. (one of the advantages of being that close to me , you get pearls of words :P )

Thank you Mr.stardust for your usual, enchanting words and flowers.But mostly for your continued love and being SO you that you always paint everything associated with you with the colour of childhood mischiefs and adventures. It is like living in our favourite books.As if the years haven't passed at all.

"My beautiful, it is raining, storming. I am in a bus, it has the air conditioning on, but it has that misty, rather cool yet fresh quality to it that I associate with the smell one gets under a freezing waterfall that runs over dark green leaves. It is slightly enchanting. It transports my soul there. How very mundane a thing though? Maybe even undesirable , when you consider that the machine must be not working properly. Then, the bus turns a corner, there is a shallow carpet of dry leaves, formed like maple. Every leaf is wet, apart from one, which still holds sunshine and summer on it, it hurls itself in the wind and swirls, like a happy maiden in her summer dress.

I look at it, and think of you , for you may see the poetry in it as I do. Wistful rainy evenings. Thank you for the grass flower in the book."


I encountered a change of dynamics with my aunt recently, which was imminent ,with her having found her other half :)
"I want to recapture the magic that we are, when we go out at night, hand in hand to explore.

We can be anywhere, and it becomes new york. "

I am sure it is still there, I am extremely excited about getting to dip in to this new equation.


And then, the most bare faced, sentiment strewn writing that makes me dewy eyed, that is for my brother. 

"My dear darling, you not only hold my heart, you permeate my soul.You are in my every pore. We rightly share the blood, for it is true that you are the child of my heart. Every rainy evening that passes without you, cries for the sorrow of not sharing the tinkling laughters that we would have shared together. Even the memories of our places in time, each marked by its breathtaking quality, wrench my heart so that even the enchantment of a rainy evening fades, almost, but not quite. For you reside fully, even in these memories, and our hearts are together, wherever we may physically be." 

you all lucky orchids!

"I like your nose, I like your eyes, but I like you the most."

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Compilation over a few months.

I have big eyes, now they are so clear and bright, brimming red. Lashes well defined with the mascara of moisture.

If only Captain Vidur was around, he would know what to do. He would never ask me why I was crying, because he would know - if not the trigger than at least the sorrow that built up to it. He would only hold me tight and let me wet the front of his t shirt up with all those slobbery things one does while crying quite non elegantly. (yeah - I am not a sniffer) He would wait it out. He would not say anything other than comforting nonsense and say yes to every outrageous claim that I may make (Do make quite a few). His bright philosophy would come only after I'd grown breathless and tired of my sobs and would be quite clear headed ,even if a bit dazed.

Oh my brother! I miss you. I miss my mom's comforting touch and my dad's wise diction. It seems life is not as important without those who you love near you, even with their annoying ways and opinions and constant irritations. It is life half lived that is lived alone.

Some can, but I can not live without my family. I am a rooted overgrown tree with branches that strive to expand and the roots that go down deeper and deeper. Maybe I should learn something from the Banian tree.

Counter intuitive , but true.
This has always been the problem.
Maybe ..... As I told my dad , I would like to live six months in India, and six anywhere else. Somehow make enough money to support this and have a farm.

The west is a great place to make money, it is safer , calmer, more appreciative, more polite and civilised (yes, in a way) and charming in its own way. (I stopped there and yes don't know what the thing was about)
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Having cleaned the kitchen, I was about to retire for bed and someone knocks on the security screen, as I like to keep the door open. It is touching 11 PM and my heart jumps a little as I am alone in the house. ( I love it)
"Delivery"

"oh! ok, must be for the one in the back"
I go out and guide the young Chinese  through. I come back in,I hear him go to the door and tentatively try to get it all done- in those moments, I feel very close and sympathetic to the delivery guy.  You may wonder why dear reader, I did because I heard the same kind of tentative nervousness in his voice that I feel. That feeling of loneliness one gets when one knows that there is not one here who would care or readily help - the tentativeness born of being unsure, born of distance and the aloneness.. I wish him luck and I also made sure I wished him good night. I felt close to him because while he might be from our rival country, he was still an international student like me, trying his best to do his work.All alone.  

These moments fraught with adventure and nervousness . Ah! I've had so many of them. They never lose their charm I suppose. But the one with "loneliness" mixed together in it are no fun.
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When you invite someone, they should either accept or deny the invitation. Plainly ignoring it is the hight of insulting behaviour.
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There is an old saying in our language, (Gujarati)

"Manma Paranvu ne Manma Randvu"

Which translates to, "Marrying in your own mind and widowing in your own mind"

I always agreed that it is a very wise saying. It is for when you can not be open about your feelings and are in a desperate pickle because of it! And in all probability, the other person doesn't even know about it.Such fun times eh sailor?
http://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/09/to-love-a-girl-who-wanders-toby-israel/

"A guy wouldn't inquire unless he intends to go!"
I told my tormented girl friend who was the glum- s because her new love interest hadn't written to her about their proposed outing , heck ,he hadn't written to her for 4 days.

That is torture to us women, mind you all guys!

She says I am becoming more British in my speech by the day, and she also said I am too open.
Well, at least I don't feel as stifled and helpless as her. I have never done stifled too well, I burst when I try to.

She gave me an insight, she said men (I will say people) are like ducks , if one goes near them too fast, they flap away squawking.I think we all have developed this fear of emotional "getting close" , while that very thing is what is the most precious, beautiful thing in the world.
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And that shows how soon I can let go, over the years I have changed, changed so much. I used to think that I will never grow out my tempestuous temper, one that scared anyone and everyone in to silence. I have had to work on it, and I still flare up, but rationality has taken a new, healthy hold. I suppose it was the age too.  Being right is not as important any more. What goads me now, if anything , is when someone near my heart does something that will be harmful to them later on. Granted, I glint and sparkle in my anger, but it is a pure anger, not vicious or jealous. Envy has no place, awe does.I never did get the green monster's bite.

More than anything, I am sure of my love for myself and others, my heart has never been so open before.

Why am I going on about that anyway?

One day,I dreamt of flying,
High high, up in the air.

Not that I love not the Earth,
but for my heart feels snared.
It is a humming bird,
It loves its wings of gold. 
As the motions swell and flare.
They become, addictive.
But more than that,
my heart is an idea.
An idea precious and pure,
too vivid to be real,
too real to be false.

It worries and it twists,
for the path is unknown.
It questions and answers,
It yearns and shies away.
For I thought I knew it all,
But I do not, But I don't.
Ideas must change, sometimes.
Or evolve in to a new meaning.
But more importantly,
Ideas should be fearless.
Scared not in to complacence.
So I breath,I breath.
Again.

Sush,dear heart,
Hush now,my love.
You mustn't ask too much,
Nor be silently accepting,
For that is untrue.
Remain true, 
Remain you,
All else,
We shall see.

Someone very lovingly told me recently, when I said to him, "You know, everyone loves me"

"yes, I know, and if they don't , they should."

How do you contain such confidence in you in your little heart :)