Day 18 - R for Reason

They decide to ride the public transport to the city. She settles next to the window spreading her elbows out and resting her chin on her palms. He settles next to her and scoots closer. "So you have your window to the world to entertain you and you don't even want to look at me. Now I have to entertain myself. " He sighs.

" You don't need a pretext to pull out your screen, do you? I thought your screen and you are inseparable"

"Ouch what burn. I get the message. But you need to entertain me then. Tell me a story and I'll promise I'll switch off my phone"

"So I am your personal volume of 'bedtime stories for toddlers'?"

"Nope - you are my personal volume of commute time stories for handsome young men"

"Oh I see? So I get to keep mum and watch through my window to the world then"

"Aha...you are on a burn roll" He laughs.

"Never mind. I'll tell you a story. As cryptic as..."

"You are?"

"You judge what you hear, alright?"

"Yes Senorita"

And she starts her narration
                                                                  ****************
Once upon a time, in a city by the river a young woman named Ganga lived a happy life. She was a bit of a mystery to all and sundry cause she did a lot of things. She smiled, she helped others, she spoke to people when they needed counsel, she listened intently and with empathy when folks spoke to her about whatever they wished to share. She cooked for and fed the hungry, she played with children, she smiled at strangers and made small talk with them in long queues or at the river banks on her evening stroll.  She was nice to everyone she crossed paths with. All of the above she did without a reason. She just seemed to do things for the sake of doing them.

People around her would ask her "So you just called to say Hello?"

"Yes" She would reply. "I had been thinking of you and wanted to hear your voice."

 She seemed to have found the fountain of happiness as no one ever spotted her looking grim. This was puzzling to the world that was constantly calculating about their benefit in all things they did - doing things without a motive. Some used Ganga to their means but the wise, sorted one she is, she let them. She somehow found being of help to others as very fulfilling and didn't care about being acknowledged, thanked or even judged. Ganga's friends called her foolish. A people pleaser. Some even went to the extent of wondering aloud that she has a sure shot selfish means behind all this facade and if there was some hidden agenda behind her niceness. She never paused and reflected upon how she was perceived by others. Ganga looked like she decoded life and found eternal bliss. Once a dear friend of hers who looked up to her asked why she does what she does and how it is humanly possible to be such a selfless giver.

"Givers are the biggest seekers, When we rise to a level where we obliterate the fine line between our ego and the world, we have attained the biggest of prizes" She replied.

"So you do everything without a reason?"

"Not true" She responds. I have a reason for everything I do.  And it is Love"

Ganga flows like the river she lives by, lending a magic touch to every path she treads - nourishing the crops, quenching the thirst of countless living beings and doing all this for no reason.

                                                    *****************


She stops and leans back on the seat, looking at him. He looks lost, his gaze peering into the other side of the coach.

"That is so corny - not anything in a ten mile radius to cryptic, Ms. Cryptic" he says.

"I know, it has to be. But let's hope, against hope, that art imitates life and somewhere, somehow, some life imitates art as well"

"That is so deep" he says this time and making an intense eye contact. "You get your cryptic card back" "Love me for a reason and let the reason be love" He hums.

"Tell me another story now - and I know you'll somehow twist it and make it corny" He adds.

"You have no respite from that. Just saying" She winks.

And they both smile. For a reason.

:-)


Pictured -  The Ganges in her Monsoon glory. Dasashwamedha Ghat, Varnasi.

Day 17 - Q for Quest

I cast a net 

Over the ethereal 

In an attempt to capture

What skips the sight

Hoping those abstract heartstrings

Breath in a form

And escape into freedom.

I shed a tear

That plays the dual role

Of inexplicable vibes

In an identity crisis.

Pain blurs into pleasure

Over the matters of heart

Ah, the bittersweet sting

That sprouts from love.

I ponder over the meaning of life

And its precarious temper

Tricking us into distortion 

Shunning wisdom

Embracing avarice.

I pine to surmise

The reason of the breath

Sinking into depths

Of tangible endeavors,

The hide and seek 

Of illusions

That pop like bubbles

But little do I change

Notwithstanding the insight.

Quest, this existence that I seek to resolve.

Pic Credit - Chandra Elango

Day 16 - P for Poem

Let me propose a toast

To the coping mechanism of my life

Those many lines etched onto my heart

That flowed out of mighty pens,

Letting new perspective

To life's little maladies

Fine tuning my vision

Through this corrective lens called verse

Unfolding the beauty of living

Armed with the map of wordings

Making me sigh and gasp

From falling in love

Over and over again,

When the world is captured and confined

To the elegance of expression.

Daffodils looked brighter

Unheard melodies sweeter

I learn that love doesn't alter when confronted with an alteration.

Idle tears gathered in my heart and raised to my eyes

As I heard a strain that filled the Vale profound,

The dark and deep woods beckoned

And I gather I have miles to go

It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all

When I wandered lonely as a cloud,

While my soul shook in the power of phrasing.

Let me attempt gratitude

To all those line that softened my insides

Glorified my outsides

A lowly tribute I pay

With a cheap but sincere imitation

To my soul food,

Poems.

Pic courtesy - with many thanks to Dhiren Shah.

Day 15 - O for Oneness

Once upon a time, in a place of abundance, there lived a lady that had it all. She was all encompassing, spreading her grace across unfathomable territories. Her magnificence  inspired odes to beauty. Her promise set sail to many expeditions of power and prosperity. Her wrath was feared by all, her allure gave solace to many seekers of peace. She held inside her heart a plethora of species, carefully tucked inside of her like well guarded secrets. The lady of beauty, power and riches had a void that couldn't be filled with all her beauty, power and riches put together. Every night, her emotions overflowed her boundaries like tears trying to cleanse her yearning. She spread her being, defying gravity, trying to reach to the skies, seeking to meet her object of affection that enticed her from far above. He would peek in little by little, night after night, till one day his form came a full circle making her go mad with the hankering she had to reach out to him. She would wile and throw a fit, her untamed longing making futile attempts to reach out to his arms. And then one day he would disappear, as if to give her a break from the tides of her tireless attempts. Then she would withdraw herself like a hurt child sulking for attention and stay calm till he starts his graduating show of charming her yet again. This story of her love, her unquenched, tireless love is repeated every night in varying degrees of intensity, never to settle or give in.

The lady they say - Foolish lady. Poor lady. She disregards everything and reaches out to her lover splashing her raw, untamed affection. Alas! They all pity her...for all her riches render useless in her unyielding love for the unattainable - But little do the passers by realize that love lost cannot be compensated with tangible riches.

They call her the Ocean and she looks as ravishing as she sounds. I think they call her lover the Moon and taunt her not to ask for the Moon. Stubborn lady the Ocean. But some wise souls say her asking would outlive all the uncalled advisers and judges around her. Love it is, It has no hope - Poor lady, the Ocean.

Picture courtesy -  The Indian Ocean as seen from the Galle fort, Sri Lanka - by Dhiren Shah 

Day 14 - N for Narration (A fond remembrance)

I met Nessa when she was a baby. A few moths old perhaps, being carried around in a party we hosted for my uncle's 50th surprise birthday. I didn't know her parents personally up until I met them then. Nessa stood out in a crowd with a placidity that was unusual for a child that age. She had an enlightened feel about her. I know it might sound absurd to use enlightened and baby in a sentence, but believe it or not, this was a very special child and I had her specialty unfold in front of me over the next few years.

After that first introduction, I kept bumping into Nessa like it was meant to be. In common parties, at the farmer's market, the mall -  and soon enough, we became quick friends with her wonderful family. A couple years later Nessa and her parents welcomed her brother into this world.

Nessa had it rough. And it is a rough that puts the word rough to shame. She was born with physical impediments that made her a regular at the hospital. She had a congenital heart condition that translated into developmental delays and frailty that was susceptible to fractures. Her iron clad spirit shone through all those ordeals. In the many times I met her, (like I said, she did cross my path more often that I could categorize as chance though it was more often by chance than by plan) I used to trace her tender, dimple indented smile with awe and admiration. Her wide, shiny eyes always had a film of moisture to them while her lips told a story of the gentlest, most happy life one could spot. Her peaches and cream complexion shone with the brightness of her spirit. She is a breathtakingly beautiful soul, the way she handled all the hurdles that were thrown at her.

By eight years of age, Nessa survived major surgeries. We were a part of her celebratory post surgery prayer ceremony in a Gurudwara and Nessa greeted all the guests with her smile that made one wonder if she had won the mega million lottery to be that ecstatic and grinning. My senses used to freeze, looking for unspoken lessons of grit, endurance and peace in her tender disposition. Once when her family had us over for dinner, I spotted Nessa running up and down the carpeted stairs, leaving her shoes by the wooden floor as per instructions of her parents - and she did that every single time she ran upstairs while the other kids of the gathering just did what kids their age were supposed to do when drunk on the excitement of playing and running around in a group. They all, at one time or all times disregarded instructions.

I could sense that Nessa had a special liking for me. She used to communicate more with her smile and used sparing whispers when I engaged her in a conversation. She somehow made me feel like she sensed my awe for her by being nice to me, it felt as if she had a mystic ability to feel my love and a magical empathy that she graced upon me by acknowledging my love for her with that warmth she radiated.

Nessa passed on from her mortal form shortly after her tenth birthday, after surviving many surgeries to her heart and brain with the smile of a saint. Her frail form succumbed to a nasty fall. The morning I walked into their home to meet her parents after her passing, I was greeted by a photograph of hers taken on her tenth birthday with a Princess entertainer. She had the same gentle, enlightened smile lighting up her tender face, outshining the perpetual film of moisture that lined her eyes. Later her mom told me that she was mighty inspired after attending a princess party I hosted for my child  and wished to have one for herself on her tenth birthday. I couldn't cry when Nessa passed. Cause she taught me differently. In her few years she spent among us, I was always fascinated and enamored by the strength of her smile. A smile that cut through severe infliction of physical and perhaps a bigger emotional pain. I had heard of stories where she had pacified her parents in their tears, enduring all she did during her visit to earth. Nessa came to the world with a lot of purpose. And showing me how to live life was one of them.

Thank you Nessa darling, for existing. For smiling. For somehow bringing into my life a lesson that would have been left unlearned and  left me a little meaningless if I had not met you.

Pic credit - Chaithanya Kanni

Day 13 - M for Miracle

Merging into oneness

Matching like meant to be

Meet, they both

Molding meaning out of

Meaninglessness.

Many voids they fill

Mining deep discoveries of themselves

Marriage of fine tuned understanding,

Making sense out of silence

Mingling like twin flames.

Magic? Marvel?

Miracle this union?

More than that, perhaps!