Sunday, February 19, 2006
I am lying face up, down under these tall green grasses, a few lilac blue flowers on some of them. My hands outstretched, and the grasses forming a tall green wall around my body lending me a patch of dazzling sky. Dark brown earth feeling soft underneath and crushed grass blades and weeds. It is raining, big sparkling drops falling from the bright sky. Drops falling and splashing, on my forehead, on my eyelids, on my chin, on my lips, on my open palms, feeling like little pin pricks. All around and above the rain is crashing down onto the grass blades making them rustle. I try to keep my eyes open to the blindingly lit up sky, and watch the bright rain fall from nowhere. Rain flows over my body, jumps down and soaks the wet mud till it turns juicy, supple and kind. Rain cuddles around me, making a tender puddle around the perimeter of my body, for tiny drops to popple. Rain, rolling down my face, kiddish yet lovingly insisting that I close my eyes. I lift my right hand up, turn my body slowly, slowly to lie on my left side. I clasp my palms and push them between my knees and fold my legs. I close my eyes. Some stray bird flying over might muse over me lying here like a mirrored question mark.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Suffocation might well be one of the most uneasy, weakening feeling a human being can experience.
Have you ever thought that love can smother you from inside, spread itself as a gelatinous fluid through your innards, its exhausts clogged, and make you gasp? And no, I don't think the answer is to shower that billowing love inside you over all around you, love all, no, this love is just not that kind of love. This love is rather something you nurtured within you for a long long time, something that evolved with you, something that is too much inherent in you and something that finds expression through someone dear, very very dear. Where can that love go, if the someone dear is taken away from you, when you are helpless, and couldn't have done a single thing to prevent it?
On February 11 Saturday, Bhavaniamma, a retired school teacher who gave birth to her much awaited kid at the age of 62 had her loving dear taken away from her. The apple of her eye that she kept under her wings drowned in two feet water when she was away for a few minutes. In her long long wait for him, she married at the age of eighteen, after twenty two years of marriage her husband died of cancer not giving her a kid. She married again, but was not able to have a kid then too. She made her husband remarry to see a kid born, sure one was born, but she was driven out then, not even being allowed to see that child. Then at the age of sixty two she went through the test tube procedure, and carried her longing in her womb for ten enduring months and gave birth to her wildest joy in life one and a half years before. Can you imagine how much she would have loved him? Can you imagine what she must be feeling when he is gone, taken away from her at the flip of a second?
I hope, just hope ... that among tons of people who would tell her that its fate and past and we can't change it and to come into terms with it, there is one .. just one .. who would not say any of these things .. but who would hold her chin up, smile at her and kiss her forehead.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
I recently re-liked one thing, something that I haven't done for a long time .. which is riding my bike along the deserted midnight roads.
Absolutely deserted, at one o' clock in the night, save the lazy yellow sodium vapor lamps and the black black road ... my bike, she doesn't have a dazzling headlight, nor can she do anything more than sixty kilometers per hour .. but she can still make me go slanting into the curves ... sway .. and make me feel like inside the red Ferrari coming out of a chicane ... and suddenly mortal fear is instilled by an approaching blinding headlight .. and you see you are riding into pitch black ... but it goes away, the yellow lights spread their lazy smile again ... and you raise the shield of the helmet and feel the cool breeze flowing in ...
And music, how do I hear music when I am riding? ... :-) .. do I put on an earphone and and mp3 player? .. nay ... :-) .. I have a way to produce better acoustic effects ... now I don't know how to describe it .. it is done by pulling some muscles near your ear.. or inside .. upon which you feel your ears are blocked to the outside ... some kind of a membrane swells inside ... and you feel less sensitive to the sounds outside .. and also you start sensing the tiniest sound you create inside ... amplified ... and I sing ... :-) .. and it trembles inside me ... bassy shrill ... and the acoustics are incredible ... :-)
and I sing ... "Ride in to the danger zone!!" ... and continue to fly .. :-)
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
In that little park, on that paved walkway,
A blissful morning, chirping birds here and there.
Nice little breeze, and just a little sunshine,
Just perfect time, to get a short walk.
I was slow and sluggy, she leading my way,
She leant on my right hand, my left had that bag.
She was pulling me hard, the air was so fresh,
Her laughter filling, cheeks a lil blush.
She ran in circles, me standing still,
She calls from behind, I turn, and she runs.
She smelt the flowers, sneezed, shook her head,
Her wavy hair, floating blithely in breeze.
She had a glimpse, guess that bag caught her glance,
She came jumping down, with an eager, thin face.
Her little finger pressed on my right wrist,
Such a ringing voice, asked me, whts in tht bag ?
I knelt down and smiled, her face still held up,
I said its just, a butterfly bag.
Butterfly bag! she said in a gasp,
how could it be, they just fly always high.
I said its real, she crooked her face,
I said its real, she started to cry.
I said ok, you'll see it open,
But don't blame me then, they'r so prone to fly.
So I stood up, unknotted the bag,
Just for a second, the world stood so still.
Millions is meager, there were so many there,
Bright yellow flies, in blossoming flight.
All in one second, every one of them flew,
All I was left with, just my empty lil bag.
She was still standing, her face still held up,
Said in a sad tone, you let it fly!
I knelt down again, prodded the one,
That was sitting, just on her hair.
It too flew high, her eyes sparkled lit,
I held her close, and kissed her cheeks.