A-Z April - Day 22 - What's with Windows?

I wish

I figured

What's with the windows

Using these windows -

The endowments of anatomy

Built in the visage.

I wish I carved them

On every surface that's worth a delve

On hearts, on thoughts, on fears and hopes!

What if windows substituted words?

If they raised curtains on visuals

The guarded, masquerading ones

That carry the magic in them

The talismans of life.

What if they were the only sources of wisdom

The subtle road maps to tremendous treasures?

What if they were the telescopes offering dekkos of outer space

What if they were formulas of success!

If they were user manuals

Speaking fluent showings

Unraveling the unsaid

That needs to be noticed!

I wish these windows never close on me.

On Retrospect

It's naive that I wish so 

As the wise and the learned say

Widows open when doors close.

Except we keep looking at the doors a tad too long!

What if they connected us like networks

In the transparency of their shining surfaces

What if we clean them with soap suds, ever so often

So the view on the other side is never distorted.

Do we even need wishing wells and magic wands to unravel the myths

Aren't windows enough??

A-Z April - Day 21 - V for Va Va Voom

Spring has sprung - and Finally! I don't feel anything else as intensely as I feel spring. (Or I am compelled to feel) There's a tingling warmth in the air that urges one to go for that old tee and lounging pants. The eyes respond endlessly, making their physical presence felt with an itch that almost feels like a tickle. There's a sense of well being and then there's a sense of being under the weather. There's options in OTC allergy meds and then there are side effects that almost make you feel like it is a 'lose lose' situation because you are either plonked by the allergies or by the antihistamines.

Thug Life.

And somehow the mojo dons the lethargy too.

If you know me well, you know how I am a wannabe monk. If you skim through my writings and deduce any sense off of them, you might also know that I am heavily inspired by my spiritual findings and quest lately. So as I type my head off catching up with V, I had this sudden whack to write about something that is very unusual of me. Pray what I find on my YouTube suggestions? A gossip columnist and Rahul Khanna. My senses do a pop and I get into a detour I am happy to get into and watch this poetry of a Man in conversation. Why not make him my muse for the day I thought?

Life is a balance. And mine had been one since I remember. I was a very 'aware' child with controlled emotions. I didn't react to things much. I observed them and my experience of those observations were my reward. When my teen years hit, I had few (but lasting) crushes. Rahul Khanna wasn't your quintessential teen crush. He wasn't even main stream in the 90s. So my eclectic tag comes handy here I guess and as little of print and media I was exposed to and as little as I spotted of Khanna, He had my head spinning and eyes shining. But like the rest of the 'observant' me, my crushes were ethereal and subtle if I can use that word. I never looked at him and thought of myself as 'Mrs. Khanna" even in that hormonal teen phase. It was a beautiful, almost empowering feeling I got when I saw the peace in his eyes and the refinement in his body language. Then the realization dawned upon me that all my relationships were more or less balanced. I look at the people I love from a distance, drawing a lovely inspiration and a smug flutter in my heart and using it to be happy by myself - In theory, Rahul Khanna gives me the same joy as my father or daughter gives me. I'll leave it at that ;)

As I watched the QA session, I was probably watching with a smile plastered to my face, much like a parent would watch an evolved child. I was kind of amused that this has 30k views. I mean a nation of 1.3 Billion, that's not even a drop in the ocean. What's the world upto seriously? Watching item numbers in billions and counting?? We do need some taste injected into us ;)

So He cooks. He sketches? He smiles incessantly. He was good at writing essays! (Dayum) He talks about Tom Ford and a local Designer. He mentions his friend's book. He says "call me" with a smirk when someone says they find him hot! He says "be adaptable" - And people, Why would you ask him why Houndstooth is named that way? Are you delusional about him being Google? "Suit yourself" is all I would say and do a little swoon over how he makes sense of the etymology. Intelligence and all that!
Of course, age is a number! It doesn't need to be quoted and abused everywhere and everyhow! Specially when you are dealing with timeless specimens such as Mr. Khanna. And those eyes - Like infinity pools. Heck, let's say the Pacific - calm and peaceful :)

That gummybear art? Mr. Khanna are you Midas??

And his signature style is Simple! Did you hear? He doesn’t like to complicate things and is a minimalist! what? wait.... Bingo, Hallelujah, Holy Guacamole, ravioli, puran poli :)  Did u have a long lost sibling in Khumb mela Mr. Khanna? Pls check with your elders. I might know where she lives ;)

Oh I forgot to mention - when twitter wasn't really a thing, I created an account to just follow this dude. I'll swear on the Gita, Koran and Bible that he used to send personal messages to tweets. He did send me 3-4 messages that I have screen captures of. I am not asking you to believe me :D But just goes to say how he strives to fill that space between two humans, with that magic called connection.

So we'll come back to the 30k views. May your tribe increase Mr Poetry posing as a man. Or wait a minute - may my tribe increase! We need more of Bees to appreciate God's perfection.

Nuff Said. Now let me replay the video and swim in the Pacific.

A-Z April Day 20 - U for Upon the dawning

A Tribute 

To my Father

Mother

Friend

Lover

Love

Child

Everything.

Sri Sainadh Maharaj

Here's a bow

A salute

Awe

For your premediation

For how you guide me

Stand my by side

Walk with me everywhere I go.

Here's a smile

For the dawning

That You have my back

And you tread my path with me

Dwelling in my heart

My art!

Here's absolute faith

That you'll lead the way

Into the magic light!

Here's a heart full of love and peace

Happy for nothing!

Here's your child

Doing a free fall

Knowing You'll come catch her

And release her into Bliss.

A-Z April - Day 19 -Thank You Notes

When I vowed to be silent on my blogging space this year, I had this idea of writing what I called as LOGs - The idea isn't original. I met this person I really looked up to and he said he was in the process of writing thank you letters to all the people in his life that had touched him in big and small ways. This exchange of information happened just around the dawn of 2020 and viola, I had to kind of get inspired and borrow that idea. Now these weren't meant to be blogged about but to be delivered to the person in receipt of that gratitude and I thought I'd have the writing fix of the year and a very focused and purposeful one at that.

But things changed and here I am blogging away and somewhere down the cracks fell my idea of writing letters of gratitude. But as much as the idea escaped me, the essence of gratitude lingered around. Consciously or otherwise, the seed of that idea that germinated in my heart led to what I call as a ripple effect - of intense gratitude and immense joy as I combed through my everyday life to look for things and people to be thankful about. The littlest of things started generating that love and joy in me and I for once understood why all the wise and the lofty folks harp on the importance of being grateful. A grateful heart is a happy one, no? I want to claim myself to be an out and out happy person, a pathological optimist and this simple thought that someone else had, somehow changed the aura of my year in ways I cannot extract into words.

There's a lot of things that I plan to do and don't do. But there are things that are so powerful that just the thought transforms us into something bigger, something better and something meaningful.

To all the souls that made me who I am today, Mucho Gracias!

A-Z April - DAY 18 - S for Sublime

Sometime down the sidewalk

Something hits you

Like a freight train in slow motion.

You dissipate into pieces

And come together in the strewn gory!

Then you see things as they are

Not as you see them.

Glory or gory? you would wonder!

The lurking images in the shadows

Start making perfect sense.

A course correction, if you will

Scatters itself on your being

Sewing you together.

Shaded, peeakboo actuals

Play a subtle light on your visual.

That sagging laugh line over your lips

Looks like a whatnot

Like a streak of highlight that enhances a facade

Almost sexy, if I might say

In the most non sexual way!

Sometimes down the windy path

Something fuses into you

And you cease to love and become love

You cease to wonder and become wonder

You understand soul erotica

You Look within for everything you need!

You exclude and you become an Inclusion

In fluid fusion.

You look at a sag in the skin 

And see a muse.

You smile without a reason

You see the divine orchestration

And laugh out loud 

At your stupid need to plan and ponder,

Worry and wander.

You understand you don't need to be perfect

To be pure!

A - Z April- Day 17 - R for Rapture lies in what you (choose to) notice.

One day, I woke up to an imagination. I know, we usually wake up to reality, but this time around, may be the universe was in a mood to love me a little more than a normal day. I would say it was sprinkling love on me because the lane I walked in was filled with all things love joy and peace are made of - I was walking on a road that had creation everywhere - God made and man made that is made in the love of His skill, like the proverbial flattery, in humble imitation. I walked past in stillness, there were no personal commentaries going on in my head, like they are going on right now, after I woke up from that visual. I was just in there - sinking in the detail of everything around me, without naming them or naming my own reaction to them. The road was opening its arms to me. I saw birds flying and tweeting love messages in the air, I heard the gurgle of the river, saw the glide of the clouds, I felt the moisture of morning dew on my skin, I devoured the pinkness of the roses strewn on the path. The fragrance of the place was something else. It was soul feeding, it was transformation in motion. The moment was eternal, the joy was without an abyss. There was no fear of the unknown, no plans for the end of the road, no sorting of the thoughts, heck, there were no thoughts.

As I walked by, I noticed big things, small things. A young woman's smile, a young man's heart beating in response. I walked through the unfolding of an epic, like it was an ordinary occurrence. May be it was an ordinary occurrence but it felt like an Epic. I saw people revel in a celebration, cry in a mourning. It made no difference to me. I just saw it as it was. But the peace inside stayed untouched, unscratched. There was a reassurance that felt like a mother's embrace. A hand wrapped on the shoulder that was best described as a father's assurance. An invisible presence walked next to me - much like a friend in need. The space between me and everything and everyone was filled with magic, with connection, with eternal love.

One day I woke up to an imagination, an imagination called life, I had this Emcee by my side, screaming her voice hoarse, guiding me through the unfolding. She had a great perspective she was wise by and large. She had emotions busting at her seams, she was a little mad and a little delusional, lost in that translation of the life around her, doing the rounds in her mind. Somewhere in that delusion, she lost her way on the road. She roamed around aimlessly knocking random doors to see if that was where she belonged, she cried her heart out, drilled huge voids into her being, all for the heck of it. I couldn't watch her anymore, I had to intervene. I made her sit back and relax, I coaxed her to take a deep breath, I convinced her to close her eyes and look behind the darkness. I inspired her to shut it up. She didn't give in readily. I didn't give in either. May be we both won at the end. She is enjoying the visual without the mental exertion and I am watching her like a proud parent. And then I gave her a tight hug and said, we don't know why life leads us to where it leads us, we don't know what roles we have to play in each other's lives. Trust the process, go with the flow. She listened. And there was peace.

And then one day, I just woke up. There was nothing. And it felt like home!

A-Z April - Day 16 - P for Paddle your own Canoe

I was very tempted to sprinkle a few words here and there and write the self proclaimed verse today. But somehow the 'time' angels are benevolent on me  for the better part of the day, I wanted to write a short story. Then the interaction with the first born lent a new food for thought and here I am kicking off this ponder as a GenX, old woman, looking down upon the gen Z Zoomers. But it'll take a twist I promise. Or I presume.

Not too long ago, the first born got an Instagram account. I wasn't consenting of the  idea (or the consenting parent at least, which is not moi - the other part of the parenting unit is the arch nemesis to this bad cop) So, we agreed to disagree and kid1 got her Instagram account. I sent her a follow request from my benami (nameless) cooking page that has a whooping follower tally of three, and she promptly declined. I didn't, in the least do this as an attempt to moderate her activity in there. She is fourteen and is old enough to make her decisions and appreciate her freedom. But somehow she sent me a request later in the day. Which I accepted. In three hours time, this tot of mine garnered over 250 followers and I am sitting here nodding this neutral nod as she proceeded to be  Narcissus personified and click a gazillion pouty selfies to zero upon her social media portfolio. Thus 'operation profile picture' kicked off. I let things be and did my neutral observation.

I chanced upon this other kid's profile in her account. The said kid had some creativity going on. Great shots of his everyday, carefully placed so as to take the focus off of him and put it on his picture stories. "I love this kid" I said to her. "Why don't you do something original?, now that you are at it, why don't you bake, or sew, or take pictures of the spring blooms in the garden, or sketch or sing...why don't you sing?" I did get the characteristic eye roll as a response. "But mother, this is what kids in 2020 do. They have tiktok videos, dub themselves to pretentious bits of dialogues and bask in the glory of full blown narcissism" I mean, she didn't say this verbatim but that's how the translation sounded to me.

Again, I would not know what got into her, but the kid said she'd want to open another Instagram "Singing" account this time around. I'll risk sounding like the mother I am, but this kid does have some singing talent. Playing the piano and learning Indian classical vocal probably set the precursor to it. I finally was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The kid uploaded parts of a karaoke that spoke about 'herself' - now when she played it for me, I asked, "Is this original?" - "You expect this to be original? Really?" came the answer. I mean, the lyrics were this self glorified fetish of pain that teens subject themselves to these days, and I thought, it could be original. Anyway, She got them up and aired and the likes and comments came in.

Shortly afterwards, she came down saying, "Mom" you got to love someone like N as a friend. Now the N in question is a girl that went to school with the firstborn for a few years now. They knew each other as little kids. "So I asked N which one of these three parts she liked and she gave me a critique. N is so transparent and frank mom" she added. "So if someone offers you advice, you are not offended anymore" I opined. "No, I see the point. People are entitled to their opinions and we cannot and should not attempt to change them. Even when my teachers reprimand, correct or scold me, I don't get offended anymore. I see their point. I extract the lesson and move on"

This tidbit of wisdom didn't dawn upon the fourteen year old backside over night. There were instances when she would come home blowing her nose to a beet red, offended that someone didn't include her in something, someone made condescending remarks about her dress sense or someone else thought she was too shy and introverted for her own good. In the capacity of a mother I used to feel bad for the kid but never really sponsored her pity party. I would casually dismiss it and say "People talk what they want to talk, don't ever place your self worth in someone else's hands"
"Be careful whom you let to access your emotions, specially the negative ones. What irritates you defeats you, what angers you conquers you" This pep talk sometimes used to continue into the wee hours of the fated night of heartbreaks. During the course of these parenting ordeals, I used to learn my own new lessons trying to help her cope with her challenges. Isn't life complicated enough, does it not have enough drama by itself? Why should we sit and produce/direct more complications and drama by giving traction to what others think?

When I saw her handling all the good and not so good of the feedback she was getting with great aplomb, I gave a second thought about the 'narcissism' I see in the current generation. We probably put our self worth vested into someone liking us so much that rejection and criticism pulverizes us to miserable beings and words of encouragement inflates our egos making us think we are the next in line to that Grammy or that Chanel supermodel contract. The more we seek for outside validation to fulfill our emotional needs, the bigger our needs become. "Love yourself" I catch myself telling her. "know yourself" "Ground yourself" "Learn to say no" "Learn to take a no" "Learn to understand your limitation, and learn to accept them"

Paddle your own Canoe. It's only us that are responsible for our well being. We cannot burden another human being, no matter who they are or how close they stand to us in life, to make us feel worthwhile, or loved, or happy!

On that note, I have to add, I learned this a lot later than the first born did. But I am glad there's a road map to the offspring in the mistakes I made, the overlooking I did and the trail and error of the decades I put behind me.
Life, dearies, is a subtle teaching of wisdom posing as everyday mundanes. I hope we had access to blinders that guard us from the unnecessary and beams of spotlights that guide us to the necessary. In the absence of these both, we are responsible for our own blinders and beams. Let's manufacture them and rock on!

Place your happiness no where else, except in your own hands! That sums up my P :)

Day 15 - O for On a Tangent - On a Swoon!

Jo and Joe meet, somewhere, where the the script demands. It is seamless, not forced - a play of fate that is meant to be. Jo is bright and confident, Joe is shy and sincere. When such matches happen, the world freezes. Perhaps only for Jo and Joe. The violins play - perhaps no one hears them except Jo and Joe - But isn't that enough?

They sneak out from the judging world, like little kids bent upon extending their play date, looking for silly excuses to prolong their rendezvous. Jo throws caution to the wind and dances in the open. Joe plays to her tunes. The giggle and snuggle, holding each other close in chaste security. For a moment, time stands still - no one feels it perhaps, except Jo and Joe. But that's definitely enough!

They chase each other in the filtered sunlight of the nostalgic room. They feed each other's soul, smiling all along, oblivious to the plots of life. They eat out of each others hand, smooching tenderly and making a divine connect, fusing their eternal souls in that reverie. Destiny pauses - the world keeps spinning, but Jo and Joe pause too...losing each other to each other.

They fight a bit too, and Joe pacifies his Jo. Pleading in silence, offering flowers, groveling at her feet. Jo gives in her act - she cannot stay mad at her Joe for too long. Their losing in each other brings forth a new entity - of progeny, of love,of support! There's a load of caring, a heap of concern, a sprinkle of lust, a sparkle of giving - all mixed up with forgiveness and understanding. Joe and Jo - true destiny's children.

They prank around like best buddies, offer each other a shoulder like philosophers. Carrying the loads of their emotions in unison - holding each other close like they would hold on to their own lives.

Joe and Jo set out on a roller coaster ride, they brave the high tide, they chase the rainbow, they talk, they listen, they nurse loss together, they grow faith in that pairing - sometimes, they just hold each other's hands. And all those challenges step back. No one notices perhaps, but it really doesn't matter as Jo and Joe only exist for each other, in each other, always and forever!

They had heartbreaks, tears - those too did pass. They just did pass. As nothing stands a chance against love for the sake of love.

Such stories, such divine designs - but there's a free will in there, that Jo and Joe write for themselves - the subtle art of loving just because.

Such stories exist! Art, dearies, imitates life! Have faith in art, have faith in life! Be a Jo to your Joe or a Joe to your Jo - there's no other magic than the magic of love. Amen :)

A-Z April - Day 14 - Now to Nothing

Nobody and Nothing 

Had a date in the Now.

They sat in the seat

Of each other's soul.

They conversed

 In pure silence,

The companionship

Launched a thousand fireworks.

The space in between them

Had Magic swirling in bliss

The connect was fluid

Grazing the being's abyss.

Specks of gold glimmered in the ambient light

A swell of joy and a hue of white!

Where all us humans look for the stuff we seek

In Red herrings of owning and wanting.

When Nobody and Nothing merged into one

All identities dismantled and heaped into a blank!

They expected zilch and emerged as one

Into this thing that looks like a  void!

But what do us humans know?

We are confusion masters.

Our vocab of joy is such a disaster!

So I stand by Nobody and Nothing

In that miracle called Now.

And then the truth unfolded

And I got to see How!!

A-Z April Day 13 - M for Mind be gone

I started meditation a couple of years ago. One day, all of a sudden, I dropped everything I did and sat still for ten minutes. Now, I wasn't able to completely switch my mind off - it kept thinking its usual thoughts, plotting its usual plots - but I sat there, in a sincere attempt to unglue myself from my mind. The results were astounding. I mean, this is no tall claim. All it was was just ten minutes of silence, with the spine held straight. At the end of it, I felt like I passed through a quick flash and could sense a well being spread to my every nook and cranny like a gentle aroma.

It's been two years since, and the soap opera of the mind does do its rounds in the head corridors. I go with the flow, let it do what it has to do and I do what I have to - which is to identify myself as different form the mind rodent and gain an internal balance back. I fail sometimes. Miserably. But by and large, the anchor of these meditating practices does make a huge HUGE difference.

Not too long ago, there was a time when I called this blog as "Chronic Thinker Chronicles"
And when I explicitly labeled myself that, it goes without saying that it was a badge I was proud to wear. "Thinking" I thought, had defined me in the most profound way I could imagine. And then the new road, the new understanding, the new perspective! In a flash, I laughed at myself for the biggest delusion I was subjected to. Thus  'The Disillusioned" tag emerged.

It is funny how our minds are our commentators, our glasses through which we see the world. All the sensory perceptions are guided and guarded by the mind. 'My thought' 'My opinion' 'My perspective' 'My preference' 'My understanding' - It is all this mad frenzy to fit that Me into everything we see - And as a result, we torment and abuse ourselves. We create mental pain which creates physical disease.

So now, the ever learning moi knows where to park the mind - but the might the mind has is something else - it makes its existence felt no matter how hard I try. But I try. I don't give up - I listen to this pesky little voice, I play along sometimes but I know I am playing along. But one day, I'll make it stand there, on the other side of the line, never encroaching the real me that is inside, the one that doesn't need an I to feel empowered.

Its all right there, crystal clear, we even seem to know it in theory. Mind the mind. Don't let the mind mind you :)

A-Z April - Day 12 - L for Let's make sense

The other day, That was actually more than a month ago, before the shelter in place was implemented, The second born and I were getting ready for her pre-k drop off. As I juggled her bag, water bottle and her cuddle toy that she was to share with her friends during circle time, I instructed her to find her jacket and wear it so we won't be late. 

I kept an eye on her as she collected the jacket and slipped her little hands into it. This was one of those knit jackets she has. "Did you get your jacket on?" I asked. 

"But this is a sweater!" was the quick reply. 

Over the years of being a mother, I realized one thing. I don't get into a banter when there is a bait for such. So I said - "Yes, it is a sweater. Did you put on your sweater?"

"Yes I did!" came the cheerful answer. As I was dashing to the door to load this tot in her car seat and drive away, the much dreaded banter took the front seat. Now 'sweater' is a term she picked up form her grandparents back in India. It isn't very mainstream in the US. So over to the banter now - 

"Amma, why is a sweater called a sweater?, do you wear it when you sweat?"

Now, what better would you expect of my child right? But I really was thinking to myself how to approach this discussion. I answered - "Actually, a sweater is something you put on when you feel cold"

"That doesn't make sense" She added. "The name is so funny!" "Why would you call it a sweater then?"

That dear brethren, is why I don't engage in QA sessions with a four year old toddler, or even a 14 year old teen - I mean, the topics of dissection would be different but you have this frozen brain moment where you are torn in between feeling dumb, or confused or both!

While I dropped her off and drove back home, I had this plethora of things that are named in all confusion hit me from right left and center. For instance, why would you call a console table a console table? It is just to one wall of your entryway - consoling what?? I mean, why do we have to name things this way? 

I mean, I am sure there is etymology to all this nomenclature but what if we take this senseless naming and look at it in our head space, the space where we name everything that we are put through.  if we were to make sense out of everything, do we really need a name tag to it? When we go through an experience, there's a lot of residue that it leaves back - emotion for instance, or a judgement. A wound sometimes, or a smile. But what if we examine a mistake and instead of being stuck with that name, give it a twist and call it a learning? What if we examined a failure and called it a stepping stone, what if we look at an enemy and called them a 'team player' that teaches us something?

Or what if we didn't try to make sense of everything and just let them be - let them come, pass through and leave without a turbulence, without this confusion to name them and hold on to them - what if we just let them go and seamlessly move on to the next moment without the residue of the sense that we made out of it?

May be we could look at a hurt and be so stuck with it that we miss the 'blessing' it could be if only we were not so bent upon calling it a hurt.

Today, I didn't have the urge to write. I was in that 'leave me alone mood' brooding over nothing in particular. May be the air quality is a different kind of heavy now - with all the transmission of fear, uncertainty and emptiness we experience in this global pandemic that had literally reduced us to prisoners in our own home - with no parole in sight! Whoa - that was a heavy thought. But when I remembered how a sweater was named so confusingly, I got this new angle to look at my lack of 'mood' to write.

Yet, here I am, with an entry. Trying to make sense. May be I should just abort that and be in the moment, welcome it as it is, live it as it is, without this commentary. After all, we don't need to name everything and shove it into our baggage to lug it along! 

Let's leave sense to the senseless and live!

What the Trope this life. Thug Life - So - L my dahlings is for Live after all ;)

Pictured - the packs of mackerel going somewhere - They don't have a name or a narrative for that journey. They are just at it. Living it up!

Shot with my smartphone in Montery Bay Aquarium - CA.