Meandering

From the crystals that speak
colours that cry
textures that leap

droplets of water on leaf green leaves
smell rising from the wet earth
wisps of smoke curling upwards
rythems of life - day night day
seasons
patterns
change

meandering..

Wood

Its amazing how much I love this living breathing material. Today, on the way back home, saw these unbelievably lovely pieces of chopped wood on the road, made the car turn around and just felt them, picked up a few and brought them home for some Rs. The rings, the brown core, no clue what am going to do with these, just delighted to possess them for the moment!

The Bird with a Missing Feather

This evening, took a rare five minutes off to just sit and gaze outside. From the huge window, its a vista of green forest.. a cloud of white birds flew up, up and beyond my window on the thirteenth floor.

There was one with a feather missing from its left wing, it's silhouette clearly visible in the evening sky. It flew well.
I thought to myself, 'as well as the others'.

And then a thought popped up - Why 'as well as the others'?
It flew the very best it could and that’s what it is - full stop. Who am I to judge? How many other birds flew with something missing which I couldn't see.

To strive for doing one's best, isn't that then an ideal of sorts, does it really matter better than who, as long as its quality in what you do..
While I may have been living it myself, I may still have been judging others - no more.
Will alteast make an effort not to.

Imperfection

I don't know where I was reading about perfection and how a bit of imperfection is good sometime back. But is struck a chord. A Virgo, have spent away many hours of my life fretting over small stuff, small imperfections..in objects/ possessions, tasks..

It's amazing really, how something, if it strikes a chord has the potential to change your outlook and actions. Maybe this is evolution too.. Sorry Robert Kegan, while I am trying to acquaint myself with your fabulous theories these days, I come up with such an over simplistic observation on evolution!

So is the ability to manifest change in self on the strength of a thought (perhaps some written words) evolution too?

Looks like. I would really love to remember what I read on imperfection but I can't exactly or where. But it was about celebrating imperfection as the final touch in something 'nearly perfect'.

So the implication is, that that extra bit of space between those two pearls in my favourite string of round white pearls, otherwise perfectly spaced, is just the thing I needed!
Because that imperfection draws the eye and renders further beauty and charm to something which would otherwise have been too perfect and perhaps not noticeable..
It also means while I have obviously now given up the thought of having it restrung, something which used to nag at me every time I would wear it, I actually rejoice in that imperfection!

The implications are of course much more far reaching in my life. But the point is, something to think about and give a chance to - the strength of a single thought.. IF it strikes the right chord.. (Over simplistic again..?? :))

Human Web

It’s so hard to put in words. (Perhaps it’s just my own inability to do so, let me not state it like a general truth.)And let me also not get diverted from what I want to capture at this moment.
One's existence in this world along with other human beings literally creates a web. And this post is not about the relationships you have in your life - your family, friends, relations, loved ones, people you know well..Then what is this human web all about? Well, I did say am finding it hard to give this thought shape in words.
Yet, it’s not so vague that it cannot be expressed, an attempt can be made!
I believe as a person, an individual when we enter say a room, or a public place or any place with people, you may or may not know, you are giving out these different coloured threads, so is everyone else. Some vibe some don't, there are thousands you probably wouldn't even notice, there are hundreds you notice mildly, some which interest you and a few which really captivate you, intrigue you. This may happen right away or take a lot of time to come to your notice. In fact, you may never notice some. Sometimes, you may notice only when someone else is intrigued by your threads and then you notice theirs.
What is this? What is this phenomenon? It is from an individual to an individual, it has nothing to do with what you do, what age, sex, social class, profession, it’s just about the threads.. Are these captivating threads mind waves? A part of the larger cosmos where things are connected eternally and you just feel that connection in some vague way? Is it that the thread belongs to a person who can contribute to your journey in some way, perhaps very small but has a role to play in your journey and vice versa? Do we explore? Do we feel the need and then do we feel up to the effort? Do we risk being misunderstood? After all, it’s hard to put in words on paper, how does one even express it to a person. (Hello, I saw some coloured threads, the one coming from you intrigued me, (did the one coming from me intrigue you too?) while there are hundreds which didn't, should we have a chat and explore why, maybe the sole purpose of this intrigue is this one chat and it will perhaps add to my journey in some small way and in all probability to yours, that’s it... nah!)
Maybe not. And that’s just the way it is.
Till then there is this tangle of coloured threads, some bright some sombre, all over the place and one just sails past, enjoying the colours but not looking too closely.

The Breeze Kissed Me...

From the green hills beyond, it came, a whispering dancing trail and kissed me am sure, I touched my cheek and found its moist mark..fluttering my clothes, playing with my perfume, my hair it's toy! The lightening of my heart, the gladness and the blush on my cheek, the breeze kissed me am sure :)

Wisps of Smoke

Wisps of smoke
And the dark of the night
Now I see them now I don't
But they are
Against the velvety night
And the hard light
Grey, diaphanous?
Or iridescent.. silver, golden even?
They are.
Both.

Hurt

How deeply can you get hurt?
Are there layers?
How deep within?
Is each successive layer softer
Easier to crush
More vulnerable?
How would you know?
Is hurt measured in the hotness of tears?
How many times they were shed or when?
Is it measured at how sharp it is
Or how deep it is?
Are there layers?
Let's not talk about the core
But the hurt probably has layers
Like a rose bud cut with a knife
Petal by petal

Hues of the Rainbow..

We debate if this is the real world or that is
Wise ones say it is what you believe it is
(I could question their wisdom)
But what's the point
The question remains unanswered..

The many hues of the rainbow are pretty
Not just the blues and the yellows
But also all the ones in-between

Shall I clasp it with both hands
(and risk the discovery, it isn't)
Or continue with the belief it's within reach..
Not just a mirage or an illusion
But solid as iron rods
The question remains unanswered..

Night

I search for answers and find more questions instead,
I part the screen and see there are many layers yet
Sleep evades
Dawn is far
The lights burn low..

A Touch of Green

Its amazing what a dash of green can do to your home, veranda, special corner or wash room. Would I say green is my favourite colour? No, not... red maybe purple in its various hues of violet, mauve, lavender,burgundy but not green.
But its amazing how I crave green in the form of verdant foliage, leaves, stems, bamboos, green hearts of flowers..

Summers are approaching and much that they are my passion, the only little thing is that cut flowers don't last.. but then there are enough leaves, twigs and stems to more than make up for that..
A rich waxy green leaf or two of Plumeria, a few smaller green leaves from my garden and a refreshing eye rest for my study is ready... an artistically twisted wine of money plant with a tiny red tropical flower and its the perfect little touch to my wash room, to greet me every morning. A stately duo of umbrella palms in a long elegant vase and its all that I need for the living room..

Of course ferns remain elusive, those delicate fragile little things. They are fussy and temperamental, how I would love to have them with their white undersides and thin black stems..

In the meantime,an occasional plumeria or jasmine flower is a refreshing welcome addition to my pots and pans of green!

A Poem from the Heart

I looked for a poem to describe the lift of my heart
At the sight of flowers in vivid colours and hues
But found none
That matched what I felt
The exuberation and the content
The sea of love and joie de vivre
At their uplifting scent…

Petunias in their ruffled frocks
Sporting perfumes of an unknown stock
Mauve and purple, cranberry and grey
Striped and dappled
Fairy stories they say…

Carnations with their pretty heads
Tiny cut work in their wing
Waxy green their necks
Songs of spring they sing…

Every time I see
They wink and dance with glee
They are the ones who make my day
With their simple beauty and heady charm
I welcome them in my home and heart..

Ginger Tea..

The winters are here, a bit early...
All I can think of is a cup of hot fresh tea brewed with ginger root, some super spicy potato chips, a soft blanket and a good book..
Peace and contentment sometimes comes in small packages and small installments.. :)

The Exile by Pearl S Buck

Some authors are magical, some books are spell binding and some pages within books leave you in love. Here are a few such pages from my favourite author Pearl S Buck. These are from her book - The Exile,which is a potrait of her mother. A book well worth reading, so beautiful that it can only be experienced not talked about.

The Promise of Life

I am lucky and blessed to have spring come right to my door. This amazing tree (I wish I knew what it is called) had been repeating this miracle year on year and I have been a witness to it. Come spring and its transformation is so utterly complete and breathtaking that it leaves one wondering about some quintessential questions of life.

Not only is the transformation beautiful, it is so quick that it really makes one wonder, why it takes human beings so long to pick themselves up, dust their seats and move on when they stumble.

Within a week, this tree changes from being dusty dry and dull to be bare and within hours filled with juicy ripe buds just bursting at their seams with life, next morning when you wake up, you find that the tree's world is all golden and green. Lovely fresh young leaves tender and velvety have burst forth and now clothe the tree from top to bottom.

This splendour is breathtaking, its awe inspiring and its a lesson in life.

Such beauty, life is attracted to life and this tree becomes home to birds, butterflies and squirrels. Birds chirp, sing and play all day.

Once this amazing tree has shown the world its golden colours, it takes on a beautiful, stable

darker green hue. Showing how important it is to reveal what you have within at the right time and then gracefully keeping it within and drawing on it but never being arrogant about it or showing it off unnecessarily.

I always say one can learn immeasurably form these wise old creatures. From this one I learned, The Promise of Life.

The Last 10 Rs Note

My gym bag is an interesting little thing, no larger than 8 inches by 4 inches, it was I believe a purse to carry cosmetics, with its pale green silken finish, but well, am putting it to good use.
Now this bag contains a number of things, some cash, my home and car keys, the gym diet plan, ear phones and some other stuff. Every now and then I love to shop after the gym for household stuff - visit the vegetable shop, the grocer, the chemist.

A couple of days ago, I bought a whole lot of stuff and then my eye caught a small kiosk selling fresh hot steaming momos and I walked towards it without being consciously aware of it...

Opened my gym bag and saw only a single 10 Rs note in it. To my delight, it was enough to buy half a plate of vegetable momos. I bought the half plate, complete with a spicy sauce, popped it next to me on the car seat and drove back home enjoying Yani and the spicy aroma of the momos. Parked the car at home and decided to take a couple of moments for myself to savour my treat. With the windows rolled down and music playing, I enjoyed the dish in complete privacy, it was delicious, a complete delight! Devoured the 4 pieces on my plate and wished I had a paper napkin to wipe my hands on and behold! there it was neatly folded and tucked under my plate. My heart blessed the boy who owned the momo kiosk for such a complete and delectable experience. The last 10 Rs note bought me much more than its official worth .

The Composition of Silence

While on a holiday to God's own country, Kerala with my mom and daughter, I heard silence after a long long time. It was early evening, my baby had just woken up from a nap, mom had gone for a river cruise, I took my baby and sat on the wrought iron bench right by the backwaters.

That evening the silence had so many shades, it was the fresh cool grass under my feet, it was my baby's innocent playful smile, it was the molten grey water and the lap lap of its gentle waves, the crimson stemmed palm trees, the rustling of wind in the coconut fonds, the magnificient sunset.

It was beautiul music - the composition of silence.

A Poem by my Sister for her Little Girl

How did those long days pass...

How did my heart feel full..

The space I give to you now--what filled it in?

your smile--that fills it now

your tiny hands--they fill it now

your little sounds of joy,

And your big wails of discontent..

These fill my heart and my time now

How did I live without you?

:- Anuja

Winters

She approaches again - the snow lady with frost on her lips and mist on her breath. Ice cold feet and chilled hands. Snow flakes sparkling like diamonds in her long hair, covered in fur from throat to ankle, neck to wrist.
and I always wonder, do I like her, hate her or dislike her? I know I don't love her.
It's her twin, the warm hearted, light footed lady in rosy pink who has my heart, the summer maiden. And loyal to her I remain. No, I don't love this lady in white; choices are only like, dislike or hate.
Yes, she does bring with her cold wind and some cheerless bleak days, cold feet, layers and layers of clothes to lug around, such brief hours of clear day light. Yet I can't deny that its in her time that I venture out in the sun and sit basking in it's glory morning to noon.
Flowers bloom and - Stay. Nuts appear. All sorts of good eats and soft downy quilts to snuggle in.

Maybe, she too has a role to play.

A few Essentials

Comforts and Luxuries not worth forgoing:

• A bowl of hot soup at the end of a tiring/sad day
• High density pure cotton sheets for a restful nap
• Soft wool socks on cold winter evenings
• A steaming lavender scented foot bath
• Refreshing sweet tea to sip while watching the sun set
• Waking up early morning and knowing you can still sleep some more!
• Flowers in the bathroom
• A small piece of rich chocolate
• Wearing your favourite perfume to bed (mine is Ja'dor)
• Silk
• Soft towel slippers
• The fragrance of hot apple pie with cinamon
• A five course meal now and then
• Your latest book, your favourite snack and an hour of peace