December 27, 2010

Flying Beneath the Birds...

One drop of courage, that's it, and the story would have been different.

You're a fool. The biggest ever.

Love,
A

"The Yellow Sundress"

This just made my birthday special. Thank you Divya! :)
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To A, for her birthday, for 26 years of amazing existence and here is to more amazing moments in life! --Divya 

"The Yellow Sundress"

I met her through a common saint
we both know very well,
too small for 24 then, and still tiny for 26 now,
she spoke of wild roses and scottish highlands
and her love for shoes and men.

She writes the way she speaks
of imprinted emotions, engraved gestures,
strange ways of love and lovers,
the joy of flight, the struggle of fight
the chime of beautiful little dreams,
what I read was familiar,
what I felt was similar.

Is it possible that we might have
shared a common existence in
the yesteryears of fate and destiny?
Perhaps, tucked away in history’s archives,
we were friends, sisters, daughters or
deadly sins from the Holy Testament?

Our tales and battles
of heartbreak and struggles
of longing, lingering ambitions
Vulnerable children of heaven
Both strong, determined and women
of this century of modernity.

We’ve clashed like armies
in the battlefield of perspectives
yet I feel and I know you are the
sweetest product of serendipity
and if all words fail to describe
your essence and presence
in this world of utter chaos,

Your portrait in the museum of living will
be that of adorned tresses,
with lilies from the valley, a sweet scent
of frangipani emanating from the
nape of your neck, and I see you
immersed in your favourite book,
lost in the warmth of a cup of tea
and the stunning, brilliant vision of
sun rays entering your heart of hearts
and the whole wide world celebrating-You. 


For what you are and for what you will be.
And watching you- smile, radiantly,
with the the crown of joy
firmly on your head- in
what only you can wear best
- the yellow sundress.

From An Old Little Read Book...

How do I begin this? 44 years back I would not hesitate. Words would flow freely and emotions would tumble out readily. They were uncontrollable infact. But these days, emotions peek out from their closet first, look around and if they find everything to their liking, they make an appearance, otherwise, they lie in the darkness, dormant.


I am old now. My white hair will tell you that. I am proud of them infact. At my age, having a head full of hair is indeed a lucky thing. I feel lucky to be writing this too. But yes, I am old now. I never thought I would be writing this one day. Today.


She called today. I spoke to her after ages. We talked about the old times, the young times, the uncertain times, the times of much anticipation and possibility. The times when we were standing on the threshold, waiting but impatient, eager, wanting to jump over, run, move to the next phase of our lives. There was such excitement and mystery in those days. There were fears too, but there was also this immense hope that things will turn out okay 20, 30, 40 years later. We talked about all those hopes we had. All those dreams we had weaved. She's moving closer to me. I am happy. We will talk about old times and feel close again. We will have our lunches in the sun and watch our grandchildren play in front of us and we will feel blessed.


You know, looking back, we didn't realise what we had. We had our youth. We were young and restless. We wanted the world for us. Everything was possible. 'Cause we had nothing, we could have everything.


We are here she said. Yes, I told her. Did you dream about this day? No, I did not, I said.


No one dreams of being old you know. At 26, you dream of different things. Being old is not one of them. Old age seemed so far away at 26. Like a whole another world. 26 seems like a whole another world to me now. I look back at those young days and feel an immense sense of loss. An immense sense of sadness for the young girl that I was. I don't know why. Maybe it's the thing we all feel at this point in life. Maybe.


As a 26 year old woman I once wondered what old people dream about. At 26, she had her whole life ahead of her, her dreams could be bold, anything was possible for her. She was young.


Dreams are ever-evolving; this is what I have realised over the years. They are constantly changing. As a little girl I dreamed of having a fabulous career, as a woman my dreams were of having a wonderful family. A loving life-partner, smart happy kids, good friends, a good life. As an old woman, my dreams are different. I don't dream of conquering the world anymore. I dream of conquering the staircase now. So yes, I do dream too. But my dreams are bolder. And yes, I do hope for magical things, for anything to be possible. The quality of dreams doesn't change, just the content. At my age, I dream of seeing my children happy. I dream of sitting on the porch with him in the evenings and having our conversations, our never-ending conversations, for many many years to come. I dream of walking to my granddaughter's graduation ceremony. Of seeing her glow with youth and happiness. I dream of seeing her dreaming. I dream of telling her to dream her biggest, most impossible dreams and I dream of seeing her most audacious dreams come true. I dream of meeting my dear friends and having a good laugh about the old times. I dream of cooking my favourite food and having a house full of happy people, sharing their lives over a good meal. I dream of warm winters and cozy monsoons and bright summers. I dream of seeing a colourful garden in the backyard and feeling the same sense of possibility I felt 40 years back when I stood on top of one of the highest mountains on earth. I dream of living a few more years. That's bold now. Isn't it?


I know what you want to ask me. Did I get everything I wanted? Did I see all my dreams come true? The ones I dreamt 20, 30, 40 years back? Did I compromise?


What I will instead tell you, is that I found what I was looking for, looking all my life. I found it. And some more.


Mmmm...I love this time of year. There slight chill in the air and the aroma of a nice baked cake. And looks like someone's put on a kettle of my favourite tea. We humans don't satisfy easily, do we? But that's what keeps us going. I think I am going to dream of having that chocolate cake now. Oh yes, a chocolate cake! How does a lady celebrate her 70th birthday after all?

December 26, 2010

The Only Girl...

A Plan...

I am going to opt for court marriage, if I get married. Really. All this commotion and confusion and planning and coordinating is enough to drive the sanest of them mad. I don't know how the bride and groom are holding up. I'd just run away and get married. I'd like that infact. A Quiet ceremony. Just the dearest friends in attendance and then a dinner somewhere nice. Perfect.

December 25, 2010

Seedless Grapes...

Some things will always remain unsaid. Telling them will hurt the other person and not telling, will also hurt the other person. And so you wait for a time when telling them will not hurt so much, but by the time it comes to that,  it does not matter anymore. So there, you live with those unsaid things.

A Warm Lazy Kitten...

How nice it is to read a book on a wintery afternoon. When you've just had a nice long warm bath and then generously applied fragrant almond oil all over and now you're skin doesn't stretch and itch due to the dryness anymore and you feel warm lying in your chair under the warm golden sun; your silky hair spread out, whispering in the breeze, chirping birds, a mynah somewhere saying hello and a good book telling you wonderful stories. How beautiful winters are.