Good news !

Everyone around me seems to be either baking one inside their womb , or popping out one these days....

My school time best friend recently give birth to a baby girl.

My neighbor , with whom I go for walks, is expecting a baby girl in a few months.

Another school friend, is carrying...

Other friends keep sharing pics of their babies on facebook/orkut.

The one television soap that I follow, has one of the ladies in it having a baby, and another one expecting one soon.

Everybody keeps asking me...."so when are you giving us the good news?"

Too much baby talk all around me...it makes me want to have one of my own so badly...

 

It must be such a magical feeling to know that another life, from your own flesh and blood, is taking shape inside you...

It is the biggest miracle, the most fascinating phenomenon, and it must feel so special to be a part of a miracle.

 

When a woman is carrying another life in her womb, and is a part of such a miraculous process, does she feel closer to God ?

No wonder, to a woman, then the most important of all relationships, is the relationship with her child. The most important person on earth is the child.

 

Maybe its the hormones, maybe its the biological clock that's ticking away and telling me that its high time I take part in this miracle too....whatever it is, the craving for a baby of my own keeps growing stronger and stronger...each day.

Thus I pray....when the time is right....and when God wills....

Hear and there.

Some sentences / phrases from my recent conversations /readings/ movies  -
- It's not about "who" it's about "when"
- You chose your own battles...
- To love is a conscious choice ...
- Everything around me is created by me - my sadness, my demons, my feelings, my happiness, my fears, my coincidences.
- I know that at any moment someone could lob a bomb into the place where we are sitting and that makes me live, you see? Really live, loving every minute, every second. There's no room for sadness, doubts, nothing ; there's just great love for life.
.....People are happy when they are at war. For them the world has meaning.
- Freedom -  to chose - to chose from different kinds of slavery. Slavery to luxury, slavery to emotions, slavery to the society, slavery to our own selves. We are free to chose  different masters.
- we are prisoners of our own devices.                                  
- They did not forget us, maybe they just forgot to remember us.
- She did not grow in my womb for 9 months, but she grew in my heart.
- Even spider-man needs to take a risk.
And in a lighter mood -
"I Khant ( can't) do Indian Breads you know..." ( heard from a 26-27 years old Indian woman, been living in the States for the past one year." )

Bachpan - 2 "meheki si yaadein"

I am a very "nosy " person. I remember fragrances of different things, people, places, times. Many a times, while taking a walk down the memory lane, I am filled with haunting aromas of different things.

A little about how smells are etched in our memories -

"Dr Yaara Yeshurun, who led the study at the Weizmann Institute of Science in Israel said early smells had a 'privileged' status in our memories.

Scientists have long known that smells are one of the best ways to evoke the past.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-1225564/Can-really-smell-memories-How-childhood-scents-etched-brain.html#ixzz0XiIvy8R3"

I am told, as a child of 3 or 4 yrs, I loved to hang around with my Granddad, even when he sat with his clients for long boring meetings( he was a very well known lawyer), puffing one 'biri' after another ( he was a chain smoker at that time). I seemed to prefer to simply park myself on his lap, head on his chest, and spend hours and hours with him, than to play around like other children did of my age. My Grandma feared I was addicted to his 'biri' smoke. I think I liked the way he smelled...of unlimited biri and coffee. Later, he gave up smoking for good. Then he mostly smelled of coffee and medicines. I still liked to hang around him... inhaling his presence.

Then, I remember how the cemented railings of our balcony smelled after a quick and sudden shower of rain. I remember the strong cravings to lick it....

Summer evenings and nights in Ranchi, are particularly vivid in my olfactory memory......... every evening, we used to sprinkle water on the balcony to cool it down. I loved the heady smells of the dry earth lapping up water. Frangrances of the freshly watered plants, mangoes, the water cooler, drinking water stored in clay pots, fragrances of 'raat ki rani', glasses of rooh-afzah, hail storms, first rain showers.....

School....a packed school bus, the classrooms, the playgrounds, the trees after a shower of rain, the stage, chalk, esp during summers, the wooden tables and chairs, new books, ink, report cards, tiffin box, the open hall after our lunch break, the freshly cleaned toilets early in the morning,....I remember how these and many more such things smelled.

The first cake I baked, the peppermint toffee that I loved, Dairy milk chocolates, the cabinet where we stored all the homeopathic meds, the pooja almira that smelled of incense sticks, dad's office that smelled of files, the winter blankets, old trunks, ...and I can go on and on.....

The bamboo trees behind our house, the huge tamarind tree, mom's roses, the money plants, tulsi, grass, hmmmmm how I loved the smells of leaves, of wilderness...of sunsets, of nights, of stars....

I may not be able to describe these smells, but I remember them, and mostly pretty distinctly.

Am sure I am not the only one who cherishes memories of the smells of fire crackers, sweets, pooja items, diyas, marigold flowers, freshly painted house, etc etc during diwali....

I remember how some of my dresses smelled, and freshly polished school shoes, my Chacha Choudhary comics, my board games, my dolls.....

I even remember the aromas of one of my friends house back in Ranchi !

I remember how some people smelled..thankfully I remember only the good ones ( i mean good smells :-) ). My mom has a very distinct homely fragrance..which has not changed over all these years. If I close my eyes, and think hard enough, of people with whom I have spent a substantial amount of time, times that I cherish, I can smell them, I can smell those times spent with them, and in this way, I can almost experience them again.

My childhood is so rich of such fragrant memories. Strangely, my adulthood is not. There are much fewer memories in the folder 1998-2009. Rainy months in Bangalore, a hot plate of sizzler at 'the elements', baby smells of my neices, certain perfumes that I have used and liked, coffee day outlets in Bangalore, Akash - how he smelled during the time we were dating (which was always very intriguing to me. I even told him then, that he smelled particularly good. That would have made him happy I guess cos he quickly finished his Harley Davidson perfume bottle within a few months :-) ) Maybe I became too busy in life to take notice of the fragrances around me as I grew older. Maybe it is because our senses are constantly bombarded with so many different things around us screaming for our attention, that nothing really registers anymore.

I make it a point now to sometimes stop, breath in, try to capture the moment in small bottles and store them somewhere in my brain, so that when I am old and rocking in a large chair, and when the world mostly smells of machines, medicines, and buildings, and people, and God only knows what.....then, I can relive some of these times, in some of these places, with some of these people again....and again.

Bachpan - 1 "Ghar"

My family shifted into a newly constructed building in Lalpur, in maybe 1985. I was 5 yrs old then. We stayed in that flat for the next 18 yrs. It was in this flat that I spent my entire childhood, teenage, and even college yrs. This has been home to all my childhood memories, my games, the long homework hours, exam times, chicken pox!, fun times with friends and cousins, childhood mistakes, my sister's wedding, my brother's wedding, etc etc.....
There was something about the house. It had a lot of ventilation, light, space..... It looked bigger than it was. It some how had more space than the actual feet it measured. During holidays, it could easily house my entire extended family of 18-20members. It had 3 bedrooms, well 2 actually, cos one was permanently converted into my Dad's office. My sister and I shared one of the bedrooms, for most of our growing up years. My brother slept in the drawing room, and had a study table in dad's office ( which no one was allowed to even touch).There was a huge living room area. This was were we spent most of our family time. All the important talks, the important decisions, dinners, lunches, the dance/song  practice ( for competitions), the diwali poojas, guesting, everything...has happened in this room.

 

There was Ganesha, painted by my sister on one of the walls. I remember the days when she was painting it. I was so jealous of her talent, and at the same time, so proud of her. There was our colored sony tv. The living room  was separated by the dining area by delicate curtains.
I had my own nooks and corners around the house. I loved our huge Balcony. Mom had some potted plants....and I loved each one of them. I tended to the plants, cleaned the Balcony, I spent most of my time at home in the balcony. We called it "chatt". This is where our family gathered every evening for evening tea and snacks. All through the summers, we slept under the sky and yet in the privacy of our home, on this chatt. We spent our winter days sitting here,basking in the sun, munching on plate fulls of salads...

This is where I have memories of fun times with my elder brother and sister, when we were kids, we would fight, cry, laugh, tease each other, trouble each other, and then there were no egos. I once fell from a table top. The sight of me, on the floor, holding my forehead, crying, blood gushing though my fingers....was enough to make my sister ill for several days.
We went to school together. During winters we came back and sat on the chatt to soak in the departing evening sun and munch on sweet sugarcane. We experimented with waxing our legs on our own. My sister even tried her hand at giving me a hair cut! Thank God she gave that up after a few trials. We gave each other facial massages, oil massages....fought over who would sleep on which side of the bed, who would make the bed, we fought over clothes...on every opportunity, when she was away, I would go through her stuff as discreetly a possible, but she always found out.
She would hatch plans of troubling my brother, when ever he was home. I was always party to her mischief. Sometimes, I switched loyalties and went into my brother's team, together we would drive my sister mad. We made such a ruckus around the house sometimes, that my mom had to go to the neighbor's house to sit in some quiet, gather herself again, and come back after the war was over, only to find me crying in one corner, the older ones not on talking terms anymore, slippers, brooms, remote etc etc thrown all over the place...
This is where I spent time with my Grand dad. He would wait for me to come back from school at 3:45. He would open the door, and greet my with a huge smile and would say "aa gayi mera Nehu beta school se"...I would quickly change and prepare his evening cup of coffee and sit down beside him, while he sipped his coffee and the rest of the household slowly woke up from their afternoon siesta.
This is the home. Where I celebrated most of my birthdays, where we organized a surprise party for our parent's 25th wedding anniversary.( it wasn't much of a surprise cos mom saw through our preparations)...
This is home...there are so many memories...so many cherished moments....I hope to capture some of them here...

The Evil eye.

My parents are very happy for me. They are happy that I have found a perfect life partner in Akash. However, whenever they talk about how happy they are for me, their happiness is always accompanied with a looming shadow of fear. My mom always ends up saying "nazar na lage" She is always scared of expressing her happiness in front of others. She fears the "boori nazar". It is like an invisible ghost, that always checks her happiness and reminds her that sorrow may just be waiting around the corner, and if she is too lost in her happiness, she may drop her guards against it...thus inviting trouble.
In India, the new born are adorned with a distinct round mark of "kajal" on the forehead, to ward off the evil eye.
Shop-owners do not fail to hang a few green chillies/red chillies and lemons right in front of their shop to protect their business against any envious glances from other shop owners.
If a child is feeling a little unwell after a school function where she performed well on the stage, the parents are likely to first use prayers or other special procedures to rid her of evil/envious glances she may have attracted, than consider medicines.
Pregnant women are very cautiously guarded against the evil/envious  thoughts of other childless women.
Whatever is considered precious, and may attract envious thoughts by others, is protected. Children, newly weds, new construction, wealth, youth, beauty, new car,...anything.
And if anything does go wrong, the evil eye is the prime suspect.
Evil eye, "buri nazar" ...is held responsible for many illnesses, misfortunes, bad luck. Then there are talismans, chants, beads, and many more such ways to fight the evil energy.
The fact that this belief has been present in different forms all across different civilizations, cultures, religions, makes it difficult to ignore it.
In Greece, a test is performed by placing one drop of olive oil in a glass of holy water. If the drop floats, the test concludes there is no evil eye involved. If the drop sinks, then it is asserted that the evil eye is cast indeed. The Greek accepted the traditional belief in the evil eye but attributed it to the Devil and envy.
The Romans and their cultural descendants in the Mediterranean nations, fortified themselves with charms to avoid the eye.
Judaism says an evil eye is worse than a bad friend, a bad neighbor, or an evil heart. Judaism believes that -  'a "good eye" designates an attitude of good will and kindness towards others. Someone who has this attitude in life will rejoice when his fellow man prospers; he will wish everyone well. An "evil eye" denotes the opposite attitude. A man with "an evil eye" will not only feel no joy but experience actual distress when others prosper, and will rejoice when others suffer. A person of this character represents a great danger to our moral purity.'
Among Muslims, if a compliment is to be made, you are always supposed to say "Masha'Allah" ( It is as God has willed) to ward off the evil eye or "Chashmi bad dur" ("May the evil eye be far").
Every religion, faith has a name for it. It is feared by all.
I find the understanding of the "evil eye" in Judaism very interesting.
My take on the concept of "evil eye" -
Thoughts, Feelings, are very strong forms of energies.  And if it is to be believed that everything is energy, everything around us is nothing but a play of different energies, then, the negative energies cannot be ignored, and can be held responsible for mis-haps, and thus one needs protection against it.
Hatred, jealousy, envy are very strong feelings.
When a mother believes that her child has been a victim of the evil eye, there are two things,
The child could be the object of envy for someone. Or, her mother is simply being fearful. In either case, there is negativity. She believes so....her belief in itself is a strong form of energy(negative), and something needs to be done about it, whether the child is actually a victim of the evil eye or not.
Any talisman, prayer or chant or whatever she believes will ward off the evil, will work. If there has been any negative thoughts around the child, her belief in the prayer, is a strong positive energy that will combat the evil eye. Even if there is no evil eye, her faith in her prayers will surely cure her of the negativity of her fear. And thus protect the child from any negativity around her, generating from the evil eye or from the fear of the evil eye.
So, essentially it is the positive thoughts which overcome the negativity, if any. There has been a lot written and said about the power of positive thinking. Faith, is positive thinking. Vehicles of faith, like talismans, prayers, chants, beads, symbols etc .... are just that, vehicles of faith, or positive energy. If I believe the scary mask will keep away evil from my house, it will.....

Jonathan Livingston Seagull a story by Richard Bach

 

This is one of those books I can read again and again....and enjoy it even more, every time.....

Extracts from the book -

Jonathan Seagull discovered that boredom and fear and anger are the reasons that a gull's life is so short, and with these gone from his thought, he lived a long fine life indeed.

We choose our next world through what we learn in this one.

".....Because any number is  a limit, and perfection doesn't have limits...."

"To fly as fast as thought, to anywhere that is," he said, "you must begin by knowing that you have already arrived..."

The trick according to Chiang, was for Jonathan to stop seeing himself as trapped inside a limited body that had a forty-two-inch wingspan and performance that could be plotted on a chart. The trick was to know that his true nature lived, as perfect as an unwritten number, everywhere at once across space and time.

"Jonathan...keep working on love"

"...and in the middle of here and now, don't you think that we might see each other one or twice?"

Don't believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation. Look with your understanding, find out what you already know, and you'll see the way to fly."

'unlimited idea of freedom'.

Fantasies....

the dictionary meaning of Fantasies is - " imagination, esp. when extravagant and unrestrained."

Imagination - I get that. So I assume these imaginations are borne out of desires....one imagines what one desires, and does not have.

"when extravagant" - So there has to be some standard by which some things are extravagant, and some are not. And these standards can be relative.

"unrestrained" - what are the restrictions? Restrictions on imagination? Restrictions on desires? These are probably the standards set by the society, or ourselves, about what is acceptable and what is not, what is right and what is not. What can we desire and what we SHOULD not desire, what we CAN have...and how much of it etc etc.

So, as I see it, there is a lot of difference between "wishes/desires" and " fantasies". So desires are your legitimate wishes...ones that you are allowed to really fulfill, and fantasies are those desires, which you can only desire..and should not really fulfill...how much ever badly you may want them. And sometimes, it even bad to want them !

I don't know if this difference that exists..is a good thing or a bad thing. I guess a little bit of both.

In my mind, I have two folders, one of wishes, desires...which I wish come true...and its very possible that they may....and nothing wrong with them.

Then there is the "fantasies" folder....these are desires...that I may want to fulfill...but don't have the courage to do so..because they are not in accordance with the "shoulds" and "cans" set by my mind. Sometimes, life moves one of those files from the fantasies folder, to the Wishes folder....and I think...maybe, just maybe, its not too bad to wish for this...and maybe it may even come true....and it may be a nice thing to happen. And some desires, burried under the WISE and RIGHT thinking, just remain there....as fantasies..

An evening walk.

I look forward to my everyday walks. Our apartment is near the harbor - a part of the Atlantic Ocean. There is a board walk near the harbor. One can see boats, ships, yachts, swans, ducks and different types of sea-birds . There are trees, there are clouds, there is the Ocean, there are benches to sit on and enjoy the view, there is also a tiny beach....and it all makes a very picturesque scene.

Mostly, the evenings are rather cold and windy. Lots of people come out with their dogs or children. Here, people always greet each other with a smile, a "Hi", or a "How are you?", or a "Have a good one"...but its strange how these strangers still remain strangers. Nobody seems to have the time to even want to get to know another person.

I like to see their pets. They seem to care a lot for them. Some dogs have hair right above their ears tied neatly in ribbons...like little girls. Some have funky hair styles, or hair streaked purple or red . I saw one even wearing a jacket. Cute. Nice. But we Indians are not used to pampering animals so much. Or should I say ... humanizing animals so much. I like pets. I like dogs. And someday, I would like to have a pet dog, or maybe some fishes. But, I don't see myself tying ribbons to their hair, and spending crazily or their hair-dos. Come on, there are children who don't have clothes to wear. Or forget the homeless, who would spend any amount of money and time on taking a pet to a pet-salon, to get its hair colored? I would play with my dog, take it out for walks...sure....even train it to do stuff like fetch the newspaper, etc etc. But ribbons? No way. Dogs are dogs..I would rather let them be that way....they are nice that way.

I take my i-pod along with me and occasionally my camera too. Yesterday I took some leftover bread crumbs, to feed the swans and ducks. It was fun. As soon as I threw the first crumb in the water, several swans and ducks came swimming hurriedly from no-where. I tried to make sure each one of them got atleast a few crumbs. Then I noticed at a distance, one small duck, its neck was bright green and wings were gray, it looked slightly smaller than the others. It did not come close for the crumbs. It was swimming hesitantly in our direction, changing its mind every other second... once hurriedly swimming away and then back in our direction, and then away again.

It finally came a little close. I had stopped dropping the crumbs and was engrossed in this little duck's journey towards us. The other bigger ducks and swans, realizing that the crumbs and stopped coming, were expectantly but calmly staring at me. But I wanted to save my last piece of bread for the little duck. These bigger guys had had their share. And then, as if following my gaze, one big white swan, turned towards the little duck. The little one hurriedly swam away. So that was it..these bigger guys were bullying the little one. Poor him. I suddenly felt a little let down. Weren't swans supposed to be the symbol of Love, grace and beauty? Imagine a swan bullying a little duck? Not nice. I decided to reserve the rest of the bread for the little one. I walked along the board walk for a while. The gathering of other swans and ducks dispersed in different directions. I kept an eye on the little one. As if it had understood my intentions, it kept up with me. It remained in my sight. We spent the next 15 minutes walking/swimming. And then when the time was just right, it swam under the bridge, to another side of the waters...where there were no other ducks as the water was very very shallow. I quickly dropped the rest of the crumbs one by one...and it excitedly gobbled up each one of them.

My little mission accomplished, it was time to go home. :-)

In case anyone is curious, in the above post, "here" refers to Stamford, CT, USA. "They" refer to the local people here.

Happy Birthday Dear

This was written on 12th August..and was a birthday present for Akash.

Happy Birthday Dear.

Its soon going to be 6 months since we got married.

In these 6 months, I have lived love.

We have a pretty normal life, with our ups and downs, certainties and uncertainties, fights, movies, vacations, dinners, family meets etc etc ... and through all this, we are still getting to know each other better.... At times we are disappointed, angered, irritated, at other times elated, satisfied, happy.....and in between all this, I feel ... something beautiful happens. Every time you do that little thing, add that special touch, show that extra bit of care, be it taking care of me when I am down, helping me with the dishes when the maid doesn't turn up, giving me massages when I need them most, and many many more such things... I fall in love with you over and over again.

There are times I watch you sleeping like a baby...and in my heart I thank my stars...I could not have asked for a better life partner than you.

You make me feel so special and loved....make me feel complete. You have infused life into my life. I feel I was only merely existing before I met you. With you I am learning to live life the way it should be lived. Every day with you, in every thing that we do, there is something for me to learn, grow as a person and become better. :-)

With you I have experienced what they call " acceptance"... You love me the most when I probably deserve it the least. :-)..( am reminded of the day I carelessly lost my wallet...and you were wonderfully supportive ). You have beautifully accepted me into your life, with all my follies, all my shortcomings, and at the same time, you gently motivate me to be better...

The most beautiful thing is that with you I am totally my self. I know that no matter what...what we share will last and you will love me the way you do always...

You have given new definitions to my understanding of many important things in life...

With you, I can visualize a life full of growth, both individual and as a family..a life full of possibilities, a life full of life. :-)

Illusions & Disillusions

Illusions , Disillusions

That which I thought gave me most joy
has brought along a world of pain.
Joy, Pain.
Pain? Joy?
The same which makes my heart smile
also makes my heart weep,
and, the thin line between pain and joy,
fades away.
Remembering yesterday's joys with a tear
greeting today's sorrow with a smile,
while trying to see what lies in tomorrow,
a painful smile? or,
tears of joy?

That which I thought was my greatest strength
has become my greatest weakness.
From where does this weakness derive its strength?

That which makes me stumble and lose control,
same, holds my hand and gives me hope.
Is this, that which is making me stagger and sway?
or, Is this, that which is giving my feet the strength
to move on, and
my hands the grip to hold on?

That which I thought was forever mine,
was never mine.
Is it enough to believe that something is yours,
is it enough to own it in your heart,
or is it not?
Like a mirage - now you believe you see it,
in that moment it is there
and is the answer to your prayers.
And then when you move closer, it is not there,
and you realise it was never there.
But in that one moment, was it not there?
It was so real....
So was that an illusion?
or is this an illusion?

That which was my pride,
is now a subject of ridicule.
What made me so proud?
same which today laughs and ridicules my pride?
and takes pride in my humiliation?

Some things cannot change today...
they are etched in the memories of yesterday.
Some things have changed today...
which tomorrow will not forget

Will there ever be joy without pain?
Will I ever smile without having to fight back tears?
Will I ever be strong again?
Will I ever hold something in my heart, again?
and not know no fears?
Will I ever be proud again?
and not fear humiliation?

Ever Thought ?

Ever Thought?

Knowledge can be power………Knowledge can be crippling
Ignorance can be a crime…Ignorance can be bliss
Togetherness can be fulfilling…Togetherness can be suffocating
Solitude can be frightening…Solitude can be peaceful
Dreams can be unreal…dreams can be a key to reality
Reality can be mundane…reality can be strange.
Truth always wins…but truth is not always a winner.
Lies can be harmful…lies can be saviors
Desires can be fuel…Desires can be hindrance
Expectations can be source of motivation…Expectations can be the source of frustrations.
Perfection can be beautiful…perfection can be discomforting
Imperfection can be ugly…imperfection can be endearing.
Memories can be an asset…memories can be burden
Forgiveness can be surrendering the right to vengeance…Forgiveness can be the sweetest revenge.

A little dramatic

A little dramatic..
Something I wrote long back...was just thinking about it recently....
woh gaya...kuch dhooan dhooan sa reh gaya
sab yahan - wahan, bikhra - bikhra sa reh gaya
woh gaya...mujhe tanha-tanha sa chod gaya
mujhe hairan sa chod gaya, kuch badla badla sa chod gaya
.
sab badal gaya...sab bikhar gaya...sab toot gaya...sab khatm ho gaya...
reh gaya ek soonapan...reh gayi kuch nishaniyan...
reh gaye khali raaste...reh gayi bas dooriyaan...
.
woh awaaz nahin hai par, goonj reh gayi hai...
kuch bacha nahin hai par, yaaden reh gayi hain...
umeed nahin hai par, dua-en reh gayi hain...
shikayat nahin hai par, sawaal reh gaye hain...
.
bandhan nahin hai par, rishte reh gaye hain...
intezar nahin hai par, sannate reh gaye hain......

This little dream of mine

Little dream of mine...
This lil dream of mine…

When the dark gets lonely,
When the silences speak…
When the memories haunt
And I feel weak…
I see no guiding light
I hear no soothing voices

When the vision gets blurred
When nothing makes sense
When nothing seems true
And I wonder what hence?
Have no shoulder to cry on..
I see no reasons to go on

But I hang on…
to a lil dream of mine

A happy home…a happy me..

A place I belong…
Where I am free..
I can be myself..
I can just be me

A spill of laughter..
And warmth of smiles…
A sense of togetherness
And many unknown miles…

Happy bright mornings
And cheerful days..
Busy weeks
And lazy Sundays..

A life full of life..
Free of the past..
Fresh, new…
Right from the start…

And so I hang on…
To this lil dream of mine..

Its Only you

It's only you...

Another one of those poems...I wrote once....when that one person that mattered the most was away...and it seemed like he wouldnt come back...and I wanted to tell him "it's only you..."

Oh you, its only you,its only you...oh you.

Its only you...
In the songs that I humIn my tunes there is none...
In my dreams and my days,In this world and its ways...
its only you...

Its only you...
In my smiles and my tearsIn my courage and my fears....
In my rhymes and my songs,In silly laughs and small wrongs..
its only you...

Its only you...
In bright yellow flowers,In twinkling far away stars,
In the pitter patter of the rains...In my joys and my pains...
its only you...

Its only you...
In the rainbows and the clouds..In my beliefs and my doubts...
In sparkling white snow,And in the morning glows...
its only you...

Its only you...
In yesterdays and tomorrows,In memories and sorrows...
In hope and in faith...In my reasons and my fate..
its only you...
In the crowds ... in loneliness...In my loneliness .... in solitude...In my solitude .... in every breath...In every breath .... in my prayers...In my prayers .... in my love...In my love and in me...In me....there is you....

its only you


There is something about reading these poems again..
Its nice to read something that reflects your state of mind at one point of time.
I have outgrown that state of mind, I have come a long way...but its nice to re-visit it at times...
the innocence and honestly of those feelings...

My Poems

There was a time when there were too many feelings that needed expression, but the right audiance had turned away. These feelings found their way into awkward writings or poems if i can so call them.
After many years now, those feelings have faded away, but memories remain.
Here i sthe first of them -


When I think of you...
Here I go again..I had never thought I would share these poems here...they are a little silly... little kiddish and very personal. But today I want to share them here in this space...

Maybe it means that I truly am over things now..I have moved on .. :-)
And it feels good :-)

This one is very dear to me....


when I think of you....

when I think of you...
I can see your smiling face
and feel your warm embrace.

when I think of you...
I can see you with a can of coke..
smiling at Raymond's joke.

When I think of you...
I can see you typing with amazig speed
and feel my heart skip a beat.

When I think of you...
I can see you driving our car
and you seem not so far.

When I think of you...
I can see you scratch your lip
and my whole self seems to slip from my grip.

When I think of you...
I can feel you hold me tight
and everything seems to be allright.

When I think of you...
I can inhale you, taste you,
feel you...
and in that moment, it's you, you and only you.

When I think of you...
I feel loved and I feel blessed.
and all my worries come to rest.

When I think of you.....

Shivoham

Shivoham
I was once listening to a cd - a recording of someone's "pravachan" or discourse.
I dont know his name, but what he said, made a lot of sense to me.

He said - we must be honest. We must be natural. We must be how nature has inended us to be. In trying to bocome something, or like someone, we move away from what we are, and we move away from the truth, we move towards dishonesty or rather inauthenticity. The more we move away, the more alienated we become, and feel lost.

He quoted an example - to 'Bhagwan Mahaveer Jain' ,- nudity came naturally. it was not planned, it was not an outcome of any effort, it was not intended by him. A bush of thorns tugged away his last peice of clothing - a torn sheet. And he said - 'so be it' and accepted his current state - nudity. He accepted it and became comfortable with it...and made no efforts to change it. Now, taking on nudity, forcing it upon oneself, is not the same..is not natural...and will not lead one to the same path as him.

Come to think of it, we become Jains or Buddhists or Christians or Almanites or ....and so on..but we forget to be ourselves. We drown ourselves in rituals ,symbols, signs, pretences and live in a false notion that all of this will lead us to the ultimate...whatever that is. These great beings, Jesus Christ, or Mahaveer Jain, or Lord Krishna, or Gautam Buddha, had known truth maybe, and they tried to show us the way. But we have made them the destination. They pointed a finger towards something, something beyond them - we refuse to see that and have caught the finger and refuse to see beyond , refuse to let go of the finger and walk the path shown by them.

Somehow, I can never subscribe to a particular "ism" , or become a follower, or worship. There is something that is just not there in me, which leaves me incapacitated to "worship" or totally "surrender to one"(though sometimes I have wished I could). Yes I pray for their blessings and energies , I wish to learn, take lessons, and move on my own path, free and unburdened. I feel closer to myself this way. :-).

Samay

"Samay"
I had heard my Grandfather say many a times, in different situations, "Samay bahut balwan hota hai" (Time is very powerful).
Now, I have experienced it.
Time is the mightiest.
Time alone can heal.
Time is the greatest teacher.
Time is the most effective solution to almost any problem.
Time is the only constant - and it changes every second - every nano second.

In most complicated matters of life, that I have not been able to effectively handle, time alone has set things right and gently guided me into doing the right thing.
With time, I have realised things, with time I have made better decisions, with time, I have learnt the value of certainthings, with time I have changed.

Time/Life really has its own way.

Many a times, I have experienced life (or call it whatever, superpower, God etc etc) communicate with me. Drop hints, give me a sign, or gently prod me into doing something that I would not have otherwise. I have had people come into my life at particular times and then fade away from my life naturally. After they are gone, I have found myself thinking that they were Godsent at that time. They had given me just what I needed then. They had shown me the way, or eased away some pain, or changed me in some way - for the better.
Sometimes I have found answers in TOI daily horoscopes, or in advertisements, or in some newspaper article etc. I have often been accidently hit by just what I needed at that point.

Have you ever, felt time?
I have. I cannot explain how, but lets say I have sometimes become very aware of it. Its a strange feeling.
I sometimes want to surrender to it. At other times I want to fight it.
I have wished I had a remote control to fast forward or rewind. :-)

I never believed in astrology or the concept of good time, bad time etc.
I may still not believe in a lot of those things, though, I am tempted to believe in some of those things.

I have realised that like seasons of the earth, we too have seasons in our life. Our very own seasons.
When autumn sets in, whatever you do, trees will shed leaves, flowers will dry and fall. Winter will be cold no matter what. Fighting it wont help. Denying it will not take away the cold.
And when winter turns into spring, it is miraculous. :-) All things become bright and beautiful, automatically, without any effort, without any doing. Sometimes winter is longer than usual. sometimes there are enough warm clothes, sometimes no logs for a fire. Some springs are better than the previous ones. But seasons change. Time moves on.

Its springtime for me now, and I hope it lasts long, real long...long enough to last forever. :-).

Letters From a Father to his daughter

Letters from a father to his daughter.

- Jawaharlal Nehru.
A very interesting book.
I travelled millions of yrs in time with his letters. Right from the time of formation of our earth,..to the Ice age...the Pre-historic times..understanding evolution of life on this earth....to the evolution of man - to the stone age- the beginning to civilizations...development of races, languages, countries, cultures etc...
These letters were written to his 10 years old daughter. He wanted her to understand and appreciate many things..
like why people of different countries look different ? why are there different races...and what does it mean to us...
why are there different languages? different religions?..
why do we have money? why kings? why classes? why rich and poor? ...
and many other things
I wish he had written more such letters....
I did not know that most people of Europe, Northern India..and some other regions...though they differ so much from each other ...are really descended from the same ancestors - the Aryans. ?
And that the languages - Sanskrit, German, Italian, Greek, English, and French, are all cousins and belong to the same Aryan family?
and I learnt many more such interesting things.... :-)
A good book - is such a treat.