The mind, the heart

‘No, I am not a party to this

free flow of emotions

the gush of uninhibited affections

the steadfast of love

(fasting, fasting!!!!)

seriously this output sans input’

the mind said sarcastically

ticking off boxes

rolling eyes

curling sly lips

‘gets to me totally

its sinful, wasteful to say the least!’

but the heart, ah, the heart

shameless in love puerile affirmed again

that which should die of want of succor

doth here flourish in dreams and make beliefs

blushing unseen and nodding to self

building castles in the air.

Finding such conversation

remarkably stupid

a classic waste of time

she cried, ‘hush, you fools

let me get this report on the table!’

A Leap of Faith

Faith,some times strangely weak and low but at other times surging in waves of optimism, of dreams, of ideas, of thoughts, of being able to do something.

Something, what is that something, where does it begin? Will it see its own flourish or decline, will it in that process, let me grow or pull me down?

Will I be bewildered at my own audacity and suddenly quit?

Will I, so often terrified of being lonely, be able to stand up and fight and build something beautiful despite fear, of failure, of mockery, of being a very public and unique disaster?

Will I be able to manage the queries about a life so uninteresting and yet different in its own way?

How will I be able to justify, even if I care not, will I have the strength to steer through?

Listening to Paul Kalanithi’s When Breath Becomes Air, it is impossible for me to not think of possible pitfalls of a leap of faith.

I listened to my fellow colleague who had quit recently a lady of a stern spine, one who refused to placate and plead as she urged me to stay on’you put in a lot of hard work and thought, you should not be deprived of its benefits’, she said.

I wondered if I really wanted that. I wondered if there was ambition enough in me to scale up professionally.

Perhaps I don’t want to be in a fight for petty causes over pettier things, my chair, your chair, my view, yours….

There should be something better.

There has to be a purpose for every life.

Even mine.

When life times are measured against set standards, I am sure of being found a failure, but in my own ways, I have protested and stayed clear of expectations, treasuring my freedom of thought, and now independence in living.

A friend invited to set up a new system, ‘ you could be a good asset’, I thanked for the invitation. Very tempting indeed. What would I not give for the freedom of expression and the company of a friendly mentor and guide?

While efforts to get to the purposes of life should never go lax, it is important to acknowledge and understand the many factors beyond, forces and times that have a life of their and will still have the power to impact you.

Hold on to dear faith

seek always new ways

forget and forgive

what is not to be

who are not around

nothing matters

except for living

a clean state

so smile, smile and live.

Meowing Mantras

a handsome cat

with a pretty posterior

to boot

at least he thinks so

he carefully places

his rump on the softest

of materials

mostly dresses

one likes to wear

to plunge in to a mode

of emptying the can

an expulsion of

the unwanted

now the otherwise

gentle seemingly wise

marjara, andrew, the cat

assumes a rather

saintly disposition

when in ‘vajrasana’

he seats himself

closing his eyes

in deep contemplation

a master at meditation

chanting meowing mantras

on the purposes of lives

catly and otherwise

slyly scheming to leave a mark

wet and rather stinky

a territorial conquest

in this game of hide and seek

he comes out the winner

despite what I believe

is my foresight

even daintily making

choices of material, color and contour

he thus expounds

truths of living

commentary on my life history

metaphorically conveyed

of which I am yet to decipher

the comprehensive truths

hidden behind such

seemingly savage acts of ceremonial expulsion.

Nothing else matters

Not in the sudden stormy

outpourings of suppressed emotions

but the warm steadiness of the waves

lashing against the shore

in gentle lullabies

lies the secret of a heart’s

true yearnings

small steady steps to

a far away mountain

whisper of love that is true

a light far too small

yet burning in the darkness

far too long

moves a heart too often

when ‘times hurrying chariot’

claims lives aplenty

a hand familiar

is what a heart desires

a soul gentle and kind

a forever companion to keep

for when eyes turn bleak

bones go frail

spirit falters

whatever mattered more than love!

All set and nowhere to go

Strange are the ways of the universe!

Having led me to believe in change, she turns back and shuts a door.

Another door shut.

Well, it is not the first time so I sigh and say to myself, perhaps there is something better.

A change of place, not to be.

A change of a city, not to be.

New place, new challenges, new experiences. That was the idea.

Well! they say its just in the stars, the complications and the twists.

Perhaps, perhaps not.

Maybe it is not that bleak after all

I just a saw a few silver linings!

Got to hang on to hopes!

Change, wow great

no change, ok will survive…

coz if you made it this far

won’t you just make it a little more

besides what is the point in sulking?!!!

what will come, will come

but then you ask

quando, quando

sweet friend!!!

Quando Quando

Sweet life, quando, quando!!!!


The musings of a wallflower

So, there was she, all excited to receive her guests in transit. That is right, so her guests were moving on and had decided to have a pit stop at her home.

She was ecstatic. Going overboard and very much misreading the date, she went on to cook some delicious stuff and when the reality hit her, she felt like a fool.

Fool she was but most importantly it made her realize the deep desire in her heart to be among those she thought as valuable to her.

(How often does she not return calls? eh?, the grass is greener on the other side!!!)

Silly of course.When indeed the week after when they landed up at her door, she had already done everything she could to receive them with love.

How beautiful it is to have family?How wonderful is it to be able to sit down together? How sweet that she should be chosen to be with?

With such thoughts and thinking of a certain someone who chose to leave for his heavenly abode too early, she sighed but felt ‘ecstatic’.

What surprised her was that she was just ‘a wall flower’, a ‘cupboard’ or some thing in the house, her home to her visitors.

Having called over their friends, the guests and their guests chilled and had a good time, so they said and thanked profusely.

She turned around in disbelief at how she was definitely not in the league to make good conversation!

Funny, she nodded, and the girl chirped, I thought so too,mom and they sighed.

Such are times.

Courtesy of a visitor:

*Be polite

* Make conversation

*Find time and take effort to personalize conversation

*Ask about the people, pets at home.

*Spend time

Perhaps it is not right to expect so much.

Perhaps it is just the expectation that makes it weird.

Perhaps you are like that too when you visit.


But then, she asked herself, ‘Tell me honestly, haven’t you been guilty of the same?’!!!! Cough! Cough!!!

you heard her right

You heard her right

when she told you straight

she walks with courage

dreams with passion

needs none but a friend

hear her out

hold her tight

walk beside

read a bit

think together

laugh out loud

no savior with a bleeding heart

no warrior with violent words

no sympathy seeping in deeds

no knight in shining armor

just a kind human heart

now, said she, ‘is that too much to ask?’

Old is gold, the sari story

Knowing that the girl will move out of home for studies, and then work, maybe, one is holding on to those precious moments of companionship.

The other day while arranging my wardrobe, I found myself peddling my saris in all serious to my daughter.

“This is good you know, looks simple, but has an elegance to it, I said showing off a mrignayanee one”. “Yeah” maybe said she,” I will pair it with a turtle neck top”.

Now this , now that, I went on showing off saris one after another as if they were trophies or medals won at some prestigious tournaments.

There was a certain pride in me, a desire to see her wear those, even a desperation for her approval of my choices may be, I don’t know .

Later I thought to myself of what sort of validation was I seeking by pushing this agenda?!!!! Some sinister motherly ones for sure!!!!

Hmm..clever manipulations of something of a sinister plot by a mother disguised and dressed in the form of concern and care….sounds diabolical almost!!! Crazy!!!

I also realized that back home amma does pretty much the same thing, when she rattles off stories of her sari whenever I steal a look into her almirah.

Time has indeed come a full circle.

Sprouting thrift shops for saris have some how changed this scenario where ladies of the house are peddling their precious five and a half metre garment online in exchange for others, after isn’t change the only constant.

Incidentally, I have actively participated in this ‘Old is gold’ concept by being a consumer myself.The experiences have been a mixed bag so far, what drives me is the thought that these practices do somehow dent (???) the human impact on the planet.

Repurposing saris is a big time business these days.From cushion covers to table tops to bags to everything is being a lift with a brocade or a cutting lifted from a discard worthy sari.

Good enough. In fact, sharing of resources is nothing new to mankind. Until recently entire generations of men and women grew up entirely on hands down garments from relatives and friends and well, it was not looked down upon.

Well, one needs to perhaps remember and reiterate the old values of ‘don’t waste’,or waste is criminal negligence from our parents and elders.

But ‘thrifting’ is big business on Instagram and it is amazing to see youngsters especially accepting and practicing it with enthusiasm.

Looks like the younger are also more wiser! What say!

Have we met before?

How often have I stopped

startled in my dreams

to see you yonder

friend and lover

to feel a fantasy so real

is yet a tragedy for sure

for tears have welled

and heart swelled in pain

yet knowing how

way leads to way

and living one day to another

to hold. to tell. to breathe

care and love as I know

is what floats life

transient in this world

when I feel deep and real

a presence I cannot hold

yet near every time

words I have none

but hold make real a dream

and this be life

such be living

The yoga mat conundrum& the useless cardboard box of the toothpaste

The yoga mat at my home serves more as a scratch pad for my cat Andrew than anything else. It looks like the one below but is much more traumatized and weather beaten.

Yoga mats available in the market, non durable, environment unfriendly

This means that every day the rug is torn apart and tiny rolls of plastic and rubber material floats around in the house.

In fact, every day I sweep the dirt off the floor before the arrival of the maid so that she does not complain or feel offended.

As it is Andrew’s attempts to snatch at the broom or take ownership of accumulated dust every single day must irritate her!

But think of the collective dirt that is being dumped into the waste bin. Now if this much dirt can go from one home, the kind of dirt , I mean avoidable mess that has to be swept off millions of houses must truly be overwhelming.

That is why I now realize that mindful shopping is a thing we need to reinvent from the past. My parents for instance would never spend a penny to buy anything they think won’t last two generations, and that is a minimum.

I am sure in my place,my mom would have looked for a cotton jhamkalan or carpet like material to serve as a yoga mat. Not for her the fancy stuff!

While it looks like being thrifty one also understands today why being thrifty is a good virtue after all.

Long lasting, made of cloth

But how we shift thinking towards being more environment friendly, how do we decide that balloons are really not essential for every party, even though they are cheap, how do we now accept that sparse is good after the overt indulgences in glitter and pom poms to beautify?How do we now tell our children that mall grazing is not perhaps conducive to good health and that going to a park or sitting down by the lakeside is as good or even better.

What is the mid way to stop the mess we are dumping on the planet? I do not have any answer.

In Iceland for instance, tooth paste is sold without the cardboard. Can you think of any single purpose of packaging tooth paste and other such consumables in card board when they are already sealed and leak proof?

Read the article below for more details.

Stop cardboardbox for toothpaste. We don’t need it.