Old Tales

There’s this tale one of my grandmothers would often reiterate. She’d say that whenever we ask a question of life; the answer comes to us in our sleep and stays by our side till we figure it out. As a young girl who obsessed over fairy godmothers and guardian angels, I found it soothing. I embraced the idea of having a clearer line of communication with life than just hindsight. So none of this was new to me or surprising when my meditation teacher reinforced the same belief. She as well as my grandmother however, failed to inform me how annoying it could become when you don’t comprehend the message.

For a while now, there’s a song that will pop into my head completely unanounced. I could be completely immersed in whatever I’m doing and before I know it, I’m humming. I could be walking about aimlessly, and there it is; acting as my most faithful companion. There I am, talking to someone and it’s twirling around in my head. I hadn’t heard it in forever and then one day, when I wake up in the morning, it’s all I can think of. And I don’t remember having asked a question of life. So it’s akin to you seeing a big red circle around the date on the calendar and having no recollection of why you put it there. But you know it’s crucial…that’s what the red circles are for. So you think, really hard about everything that you possibly could have found urgent. And then you ask all the people who you think might have an inkling. When no answers come forth, your search becomes more frantic, less effective.

So before I became completely inefficient, I took a breath to ask for the message to come to me in another way. For life to atleast give me an additional clue. But I don’t see it coming, and I don’t know if the song will somehow abate. What I do know is that when I tell my young ones the story of how life communicates, I’m going to emphasize on how much of it feels like a puzzle. I’m going to reiterate that when you’re not completely ready for the answers you seek, they do come to you, but perhaps they’re in a language you are yet to learn to speak.

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Filed under Childhood, Introspective, The world around me, Things that confuse me

As I kissed you
while you were asleep;
you unraveled like a flower
submitting to the bees.

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Filed under Inspired by other creative works, Poetry, The world around me

Addiction

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We meet everyday
for coffee
even though you
can barely stomach
the taste of  it.
For years,
of our friendship,
I didn’t know better
and thought you simply
did not prefer it.
Even now, when we meet,
I have a cup
and so do you.
I’m addicted…
as are you.

 

Photo courtesy Anamika

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Filed under Introspective, Poetry, Reminiscing, The world around me

Boxed, broken memories

Boxes littered in every space
half full of fragmented memories.
All stifled in bubble-wrap
to fade away in the attic.

Halved sets of china,
incomplete sets of cutlery
One from a pair of crystal flutes
One half of a wedding portrait
One quarter of a family
One lifetime of enduring stories.

Maybe someday, the trinkets will be lost
and perhaps, the shadow on my finger will fade
But what of the broken promises?
And of the heartache that does not fade?

Inspired by the childhood game of creating boxes on an empty piece of paper. 😀 Yes! The mind does work in crazy ways. 😀

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Filed under Introspective, Poetry

Your eyes…

The world is full of beauty,
laughter and mystery
as are your eyes.

The world is full of possibility,
when I see it through
the prism of your eyes.

You tell me not to love them;
to you they are spiritless.
But for me…

My soul swims satedly
in the sea of sensuality
as I look into your eyes.

If I were to deny myself sight,
I still couldn’t unsee
the stars shining in your eyes.

And why would I even want a life that is so deprived?

*Inspired by a rough translation of a song in a language I do not understand.

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Filed under Inspired by other creative works, Poetry, The world around me

Autumn Days…

If I stay still
for the smallest spell
I can drown in the silence
surrounding the rustling leaves
when it’s ravaged by breeze.

If I pause
to gather a breath
the crisp, dry air fills
my lungs and pierces me
with musk and mulch.

And if I amble alongside
the meandering gravel path
the fallen leaves
decay into clay
beneath my cumbersome feet.

But for all its romanticism,
autumn is cold and daunting
with the threat of icy winters
kissing you goodmorning…

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Filed under Life at University, Poetry, The world around me

Distant…

For everyday that we spend apart
and I cannot speak
the words of my heart;
I find a snippet by someone else
that would tell you
how much my heart’s bled.

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Filed under Poetry