View

The brew

That penetrates into the breeze

Of the little house,

(not on the Prairie)

(Though one wishes it is!)

Fill the air with aroma

And the being with life.

The vine ripe roma tomatoes

Dangle on the bush

Much like illuminations

Greeting through the french window 

(This isn't the view of the Acropolis)

(But feels as magnificent)

Feet up, hair down

Wee thoughts like wisps

Lingering around

Roses in many hues

A few days old, 

Huddled in the ceramic teapot

Donning signs of aging 

With such grace!

Stacks of books,

Sink of dishes to be done

A plush throw that lazes about

Carelessly on the couch.

Frayed ends of the living room carpet

With dander that needs to be vacuumed.

And a to-do task

Ticked off from the unending list

By the virtue of this

Vista point

Of a significantly small life.

 Photo by NourAlhoda Al: https://www.pexels.com

Consider

I suffer from this strange condition - I call it 'choice paralysis' and I wonder/assume at the same time as to how many others among us suffer from something similar. I log into my OTT services and spend half the time of a feature presentation (no exaggeration here) to find the feature presentation I wish to watch, and more often than not, my free time is up and I abandon the thought of watching. Same goes with most other recreational things I do.

For instance I browse through hundreds of pictures to find that one pic that would be a perfect tag along to my blog post and I spend more time than I allocate to blog. On a digress, come to think, why is the picture even necessary right? - Oh may be because we have increasingly become a visual species. We need a pic in tow for everything we speak or say (remembering how I used to click pics of my dish to share it on my iMessage along with the conversation about what's cooking in the kitchen.

Digress over, and back to the condition I suffer from. So during my childhood in the 80s - we used to cluelessly wait for that one feature film on Saturdays, clamor around our modest TVs and consume it with great enthusiasm. Everything followed the circadian rhythm, including the TV sets wherein programs bid adieu no later than 11pm. And then as I progressed into my teens, the channels, the choices, the 24x7x365s made their advent. Do I recollect spending 30 mts choosing a book to read? No. The local library had a shelf of books and I used to grab the one that I didn't read yet and finding that one was a gratification in itself!

When I sit to blog, I have this influx of topics that hit me and I end up aborting the idea of blogging altogether before I choose one. It is a great deal of time drain, come to think of it and then I endlessly ponder about how I do not have time to do the things I love. So what is it that has gotten the likes of me into this condition? Is it the abundance of everything we have right here at our finger tips? Was life simpler and more enjoyable when moderation was the name of the game? Did we collectively shift the energy of the planet into an over consumption mode be it the things we use or the things we get to do?? I can't help but wonder about the rhetorical question. And what's the effect of all this on the quality of our life?

Today I chose the picture before doing my first scroll on the virtual album. Today I typed a title on the top of my head and got to writing without trying to make it some sort of a deep hitting masterpiece. Today I blogged in record time. Today I am trying to find prompt cures to the problems I seem to understand and ponder about.

And see? -  it isn't as hard as I thought it would be.

Photo by Marija Piliskic: https://www.pexels.com

Ponder

I'd have no clue how these words are going to shape shift as I type away - cause if you had known how many times I undid what I wrote, you might take away my blogger card! And as I keep at this, I wonder how the authors out there keep churning up volume after volume of books and get them to be bestsellers and motion pictures. 

I don't know where to place the blame for this stagnation of sorts. No, I wouldn't call this a block anymore - this is a full blown creative rut! I keep searching far and wide for the reasons to blame my stagnation now - instead of searching  for topics to blog about. Come to think of topics, it isn't as if I have a dearth of them. I had been making a list of things I wanted to ponder over. Given the fact that the last few months have been a rollercoaster of emotions, I do have a plethora of things to rave and rant about - but it could be the infamous female hormones that hijack my flow and launch me into a stupor. But excuses aren't a tender as of now, to flake out on the task so here I go blabbering away!

A part of this confidence to blabber perhaps comes from the comfort of talking to myself I guess. For all practical purposes, this space feels like an abandoned castle in the middle of the woods, that kids from nearby neighborhoods discover and make hubs out of! I swear I heard a friend (from Scotland) telling me that he and his brothers used to haunt the nearby abandoned castles and play away - I think some of those have become heritage sites lately!

And then, a gingerly caution creeps in. What if someone is going to stumble upon this place and find all these scribbles? I mean, imagine the horror - or may be don't imagine it! If we are to dance like no one is watching, why not write like no one is reading? Anyway, I don't think I have any hopes for privacy when a thought/ place/ product that crosses my mind manifests into my feed in a week or less. Privacy is a dinosaur. Extinct!!

So yeah, the diverse and intense few months I had in 25 so far did leave me with a whole clutter of thoughts to ponder upon, only if I found the peace to look through them and pick one at a time. And that's exactly what I am trying to do as I aimlessly type away.

To be continued....

Photo by Gül Işık: Pexels

Tribute

Her hair was lush

Falling like velvet curtains

Drawn to the sides of her face.

She was quiet but her presence was strong

Stealth strength - Her spirt!

She concealed such pain

Inside her radiant existence

She fought with time

And tamed it to her side.

Petite, pretty, and Prudent

Just as her name suggested!

She had the spirit of a warrior

And the grace of a saint.

She lived all in, drunk on life

Nothing limited her, nor confined her light!

Gentle and kind,

Armed with a shining smile

She lived to the fullest

Redefining limits, busting limitations,

Transforming the struggle

While juggling with fate.

Words would fail to grasp her soul

Nor would they reflect

Her essence in whole!

Like a dream she drifted

Lingering around in memories Profound.

Godspeed my friend. Soar high!

Spread your luster from above,

Until we meet again.

Photo by lil artsy: https://www.pexels.com