No amount of hurrying will lessen that time.
I know you dont want to listen
It matters not how many adult words you use
but how many touched your soul
Random observations of, in and about life.
She lives up to her name
With a warm, sunny disposition
Warmth oozed from her with ease
In the reach of her hand
And the touch of her palm
In the tilt of her head
And the smile of her eyes
In the lilt of her voice
And the pout of her lips
Her face, a mirror to her soul
What she felt showed.
So if you saw her cold,
And feel unease,
Learn to see,
Through her eyes.
You will find,
A mile of unresolved thoughts,
A horde of un-forgiven deeds,
A hive of unforgotten trespasses,
With, layers of analysis, to get through.
For all her easy warm summers
There are those eerie winters.
So if you profess to love her
Remember to be the summer in her winters
And keep her warm with ease.
As much as I care about you.
As much as I love you.
As much as I enjoy doing things for you.
As much as I wish to erase the things that hurt you,
I cant.
I see the tear line your eyes.
And let my tears flow, in your stead.
While I will you strength, to carry on.
Hoping, you know I am here,
No matter where you are,
I will be thinking of you.
Its all I can do for you.
Dearest Death,
I know it seems a tad insane to receive a letter from someone who is "living". I have finally picked up the courage to say what I want to say to you. You have been my first love, ever since I felt the existence of love. I try not to obsessively think of you, to not talk of you, though you are always on my mind. I have seen that it pains the ones who love me to hear me talk of you. They worry that I am depressed when they hear me talk of you, when I am actually happy, feeling alive and very curious about you. I couldnt let them experience hurt for loving me, 'cause to me Love is painless, effortless, freeing, non-suffering, like how I love you, and I wish to leave my definition of love with the ones who love me.
I am glad you exist, for I cannot imagine life and living without you. You make every waking hour, every living moment worth it. As much as I crave you, I also know, that should I commit to you, I should do so without regret. So I work each day at having no regrets for what I did or I didnt do, what I said or didnt say, what I thought or didnt think. You complete my existence, giving it a full stop. You, are the only one who has the right to "The End" of my story.
I have heard the way people talk of you, some with reverence, some with awe but most with Fear. I understand most would avoid looking you in the eye. I find the idea of you curiously thrilling. I dream of staring into your eyes and smiling. Sometimes I day-dream of conversing with you, while sharing a cup of coffee with you. I wonder what your answers will be to my questions of the existence or non-existence of soul, what happens when the living are dead, if its really the end, what credentials are required to go away with you. I dont know if I satisfy all your criteria for your acceptance of me but I always hope and work towards qualifying at some point in time.
In anticipation of your friendship,
Your Secret Admirer.
When I stand before you
Alone in our alone-ness
I suffer a sensory overload
Your eyes drown my thoughts
Your voice entices my being
Your lips make me yearn
Your hands make me yield
What I hold dear
My sanity, becomes insane
In that moment,
who I am, is forgotten
My mind's map becomes invisible
My voice is lost in silence
A part of me is torn
Between wanting to be Me
And melding with you, in one-ness .
Holding on to the tiny sliver of sanity
I turn my back and walk away.
When the distance blurs you
From my sight,
I sit down and pour what I feel,
On to parchments, of verse, prose or imaginings.
It is just a cup of tea. It would remain just a cup of tea, if we didn’t ask any questions or ponder the expressions of those sipping from the cup. In a world where only the practical matter, it would be, Just a cup of Tea. But it wasn’t so in Ria’s world. In Ria’s world, a cup of tea had its own personality. It became a different character, depending on the type of tea, the people involved in making and drinking the tea. It created an ambience of its own. It had its own vocabulary, diction and dictionary, albeit without words. It had meanings which, outside world hadn’t yet grasped and probably never will.
As a child, tea meant the arrival of a guest. Usually an honored guest she hasn’t seen in a while; a guest, valued above her own family. Her family drank coffee, which at the time was the most common beverage of the South. Preparation of tea in the house meant the guest was of a higher socio-economic stratum than herself. Tea meant the royals have arrived. Everyone was in their best garb and behavior. There will be no raised voices, or un-necessary laughter. Just dignified conversation, with formal words, some so formal that Ria never knew their meaning. There will be the faint hint of perfume, lingering after the guest leaves and a wish that lingers in Ria’s heart that they would visit again so she could watch and imprint the mannerism of the royals. Of course, that was the excuse. The real reason was, to look upon the Handsome Prince in that family of Royals.
Over time, Ria understood that Tea had a versatile personality. As she entered her teens, tea meant an announcement of great importance, like India winning the cricket match or a marriage or birth announcement in the family. Her first cup of tea, meant she was now an adult. The presence of tea bound her to her classmates at the college cafeteria. It meant being able to talk to Professors and Lecturers in a cloak of maturity. Tea was the silent witness to meetings, peace makings and deal breakings. Sometimes the silence of the tea acted as the symbol for the silence of un-uttered words between people. Words like “Ah! It feels warm” that seemed too obvious to say on a cold rainy day; or “I hope you know I care” that is difficult to say to people whose ego comes in the way of humane interactions.
Serving tea was a means to sharing with people. At least until the tea is drunk, they will stay and spend time with you. Hopefully, share and exchange ideas and parts of themselves. Hot milky sweet tea early in the morning, iced lemon and ginger tea on hot afternoons, mint tea after dinner, shared with loved ones, neighbours, friends and family, in quiet togetherness. It was important to feel that human touch for however small a while, however shy you were and tea, was a perfect excuse, an asking and giving of ourselves without making it obvious.
Her wish for the visiting Royals was answered many times over. She continued to look upon the Prince hoping he would look upon her the way she did. The Prince maintained Princely dignity. He was polite, friendly and civil but kept an ambiguous distance. It was never lost upon her, that he was from a long line of tea drinkers and she was a common coffee drinker. The distance between tea drinkers and coffee drinkers, was the same as the distance between collective tradition and individual ambition. In communities like the one Ria lived in, what was expected and what she expected were never same. And she knew it well.
It was 4 pm the last time the Prince drank tea with her. It was the only time she ever met the Prince alone. Tea eased the awkwardness of that situation. It was then that Ria knew that the Prince was assigned his Princess. He spoke to her as he always did, in a friendly voice that did not betray that he knew of the pain that she felt except when he said with a faltering, trailing “If only you were a tea drinker….”. That was enough for Ria. She needed no elaboration from him. “Would you like some tea?” She asked. He looked up at her with eyes that hoped she understood, wished there was another way, wanted time to stop here and softly said “yes”. She made the tea and served it in silence. In their minds, their wordless thoughts overlapped each other. Their soul hands reach out to hold each other in a hug, the kind that didn’t let go. Their unseen tears mingled with each other, each heard the other sob and they comforted each other with sips of tea in silence. Outside their minds, calm reigned, all was in order, none wiser, conventions were in their place, protocols were followed and decorum maintained.
For the last two decades since that day, without fail, how ever busy the day was, at 4 pm every evening, the Prince drank tea alone in his study. It was protocol to let him be alone. With each sip of tea, he remembered Ria’s smile, her eyes and imagined conversations with her. While Ria served tea to her now husband at around the same time…wondering if the Prince still drank tea, and if he did, did it remind the Prince of her the way it reminds her of him? After all these years, one can't tell she isn’t royalty, for she drank tea, walked with an aura of dignity, spoke softly with formal words and never laughed unnecessarily, yet there was a feeling of something missing - The Prince by her side.
The Prince and Ria sip on the tea, enjoying their moment together, each day, unbeknownst to others around them. They were never apart.
It will take me a while
To go back in time
To when I didnt know you
When we walked alone.
You were a forgotten memory
way back in time.
It will take me a while
To go back in time
To when I didnt know your love
When we were happy by ourselves
You didnt exist in my world
way back in time
It will take me a while
To go back in time
To when I didnt know of the Ache
When spaces in my heart was filled
You were not a need
way back in time.
It will take me a while
A long, long while
To go back in time
way back in time.
“She passed away”, said the voice over the phone. I knew who, without any mention of names or titles. I agreed and disagreed but let my agreement show with “I see” and buried my disagreement “She’s in me and in you, she passed yet she hasn’t” within the deepest caves of my being.
I wait for the heavy silence to make a noise…Nothing, absolutely nothing broke the silence, except for the lines click, breaking the connection.
Somewhere I hear the echo "This moment will have passed too, in a moment or two, Just as she did pass away, within my life’s span, this day"
So many others have passed too…without an acknowledgement of their passing. In the days of childhood was She; She, in my youth; She, in my memories; She, in my experiences; She, within the days of impulsivity; She, the nights of yearning; She, my dream star; She, my fickle desire, She, my obsessive ambition, all, now past. I count the ones who left without a whisper, yet the biggest noise was apparent in the way I passed away, in each moment, from what I was, to what I am only to become what I was. The seemingly unimportant, mundane times, that came in without fanfare and left without a farewell, or funeral, or wreaths or people in procession or tears of loss, marking the moments of my life. Yet, it was Her passing that brought these thoughts.
With each passing, I unconsciously record my history…I think it should be her-story. The things that shaped me are in those passing. What I am, became etched, like invisible tattoos, from those passing through, passed by and will pass by. I look back at how far I have come, how many I have lost, how many I left behind, digging into the records, only to realize, the far, was near, the lost, are found and the left, are with me. I understand, I cannot live from my history, I can only move forward, consciously making new pathways. I can only imagine a future and fervently wish its manifesting. I can only be in this Moment, and Know it will Pass. What I see, touch, taste, smell and feel become important, only because I know it will Pass and I can only hold on so long. And so, I feel grateful, for memories…and work at keeping them true.
Theres nothing New
Only old, repackaged as New.
Yet, brightness reigns
In the Dreary Rains.
Sentencing new sentences,
With old words.
Pretending new pretences,
Amidst curtain folds.
Scent noses its way, into my nose
Poppies snatch their afternoon doze.
Love hides on the lip of the toad
Loving floats on lily pad road.
Hate stealthy pilfers the heart,
Deligent Mind rends it apart.
Tickles laugh behind my knee.
As Ears begin to see.
New thoughts form
With unearthly norm.
Death, lives on
While Life, dies off.
Sweet dreams, sleep
As sleep, dreams.
Yearning Fruits
From harvested Truths.
P.S. This was inspired by Teresa's blog - Under the Sun.
In your long absence,
I kept my silence.
We meet again,
In emotional drought
Each in pain,
Playing our station's part
You asked me "Did you think of me?".
I said I didnt,
And Watch you walk away, hurt.
I hurt too, but was glad,
For if you stayed and asked,
Why I didnt think of you.
I would have told you
"If I did, I cant stop with mere thinking,
I will want to
talk to you,
see you,
hold you
and be with you."
If you listened to that
And stayed by me
It will be difficult for you.
If you left,
It will be difficult for me
So, I let myself be Silent.
1. Whatever happens, coffee makes me feel good...Maybe Coffee is my God.
2.Its fall and I have proof, its raining, cold, leaves are on the ground, I have to rake, I have a massive allergy attack - a gong in my head and a faucet for a nose.
3. Still laughing at this funny conversation - Scene : Its evening, the kids just finished homework and they were reading. Son looks up from his book and says : Mamma, why are mammals called mammals?
Me : The word is derived from Mammary glands, which is a Scientific name for breast, which produces milk for the young. So a mammal is any animal that has milk for its young..
Son : So then Men are not mammals.. They dont have milk and they cant have babies..Hmph! I dont like that. But then we could be birds, I would love that.
We all became very quiet, trapped in silence and my daughter started to laugh. Yep, that was a laughter fest.
4. Reading as usual.. I got "The fifth agreement" by Miguel Ruiz. Not done with the books on Korea, Not done with The Tale of Genji, but I am happy just staring at them.. I must be nuts.
5. I have so much to say about the Topic for the Creative Challenge word-Solitude, I dont know where to start and I know by the time I write, I would have struck down 90 percent of my thoughts.
6. We finally bought the van we have been talking about for over a year and a half.. Now I am glad we can move on and talk about something else.
7. The squirrels are at it again, my plants have soil all around them..its beginning to look like an abandoned project.
8. Got 5 more chillies from the plant.. Thank you! chilli plant.
9. With the cold and cough merry go round in our home, I need a genie to clean up. I am tired.
10. Hmm.. maybe I should use the genie to cure the cold, I dont mind the work if I am not tired.
Thank you for reading.. Have a wonderful day. Remember to Smile and be Amused.
P. S. just read about the Tsunami in Indonesia...Lets hope the damage to life is minimal.
Peace
Rashmi.
As I unwind
Under closed eyes
Going over the days events
Like a tape on rewind
I see you lurking
In every frame
My soul’s witness
For the day’s happening
Your loving eyes, graceful smiles
Hold me in my
Waking
Working
Resting
Sleeping
Dreaming hours
There wasn’t a time
You weren’t on my mind.
© K P Rashmi – July 2010
Tour Creative Challenge #110Dearest Dad,
You may think I dont see you. It might surprise you that I do, not just with eyes but with my whole being.
You may think I dont remember those moments far back in time, when you let my delicate little fingers curl around yours, of their own accord. It might surprise you that I do, not with the curl of my fingers but with the smile in my soul.
You may think I dont remember the moment you put your hand on my back and assured me when I was dejected yet acted like I didnt care. It might surprise you that I do, I did care and it mattered more than you know to feel the strength of your hand on my shoulder.
You may think I dont remember the moment you sat quietly with me when I lost my best friend and felt betrayed. I want you to know I do, I remember what I heard in your silence "You will be alright, trust yourself. I am here if you need me".
You may think I dont remember the moment you put your foot down when I wanted to go off with my friends to do the things you knew were not alright. Yes, I resented you then, yet I knew you did that out of your love for me. I want you to know, I know you love me even when you didnt say the words.
You may think I never knew the times you walked to my bed while I was asleep to check on me and kissed my forehead when you thought I was unaware. I want you to know, I knew and I was grateful I have a father like you.
I am grateful, you stayed inspite of all the examples around us of Fathers who left their children, Fathers who thought there was nothing they could do to be there for their children, Fathers who resented the work and effort they had to make to raise a child, Fathers who thought giving you their DNA was enough.
I am grateful, for the times you were firm, for the times you taught me hard lessons, for the times you were the rock in my life, for guiding me to be the person I am.
All those Moments you thought I didnt Know, Remember or Cared about...Those Moments Mattered. They mattered more than all the stuff you bought for me, more than all the times you scolded, rebuked and pushed me to be more than I thought I was capable of.Those Moments Mattered.
Thank you Dad.
Your Child Forever.
P. S. Happy Father's Day!! to all the Father's Visiting here...
Because I love, I watch from a distance
Watch you as you fall
I hope you know you could always get up
Brush off the dust,
And keep walking to where you want to go.
Because I love, I stayed silent
As you threw the words in anger
I hoped the aftermath would clear your vision
Start you thinking through before saying
Making it easier for you to Walk the Talk.
Because I love, I held you without putting my arms around you
As you made life changing decisions
I hope you know, you are free always
To stay or leave, to receive or give without asking
Learning how to stay and give without losing yourself.
Because I love, I put my faith in you
As you faced the storm,
I hoped you know, to trust yourself always
What ever happens, theres a way to work things through
Learning about yourself is what you are here for.
Because I love, I am here
Seen without seeing
Being without being
Holding without holding
Just Because, I love.
Its been two decades since they broke off from each other. They managed to stay out of each other's radar though they lived in the same city. They were to each other, their first love, their first holding of hands, their first kiss and first acknowlegement of soul-mate. Yet, on this day, destiny bowled a googly. They bumped into each other at a street corner food stall. This stall wasnt anywhere close to where either lived. Yet they ended up here at this stall, on that day, at the same time, without a prior appointment, without ever calling each other, without ever really thinking of the other, without any expectation of this ever happening. The world suddenly is quiet within Her and within Him. All they hear is the heartbeat of the other standing across them. All they see is the reflection of themselves in the others eye, as they were when they had first met, all those years ago, in their youth, when the word, Impossible, did not exist within their existence, when Forever was not unachievable, when Love was their only nourishment. In those few seconds, each met the other in a world invisible to others around them. Neither said a word, as they quietly ordered their food. They eat in silence and walked together to the Taxi stand. Each very aware of the other's breath, walking through pictures of each other memories, like a movie through time. Each enveloped with a the chill of Regret and the warmth of Love that never went away all these years. Each with the "if only's and what if's" sparring many rounds in their minds.
He puts out his hand for the taxi, which stops for him. Opens the door, as she climbs in. Without a voice, a sentence starts within his mind "If this leaving was only...." finishes in her mind "to come back to you again." He hails another taxi and gets in. On the sidewalk where the taxi stopped for the two them...a Lingering Mist Stayed where each left their invisible self to never say goodbye.
You, I and exchanged vows
Beneath the umbrella of sky above.
The clasp of our hands
Beside the Sacred Fire
Blessings from unseen lands
Within our souls lair.
We walk together
Each other's support
Come Rain or Shine
Each other's comfort.
The touch of our hands
Holding depths of our love
This be Our destiny
For Lifetimes to come.
The art this week is by Julie Zarate, click on her name to see more of her works.
Gently
Hold my heart,
Between your fingers
Keep it beating
With sweetly Whispered words
Know my heart
Into its unknown depths
Caress my being
Like breeze in my hair
For it is told,
Every Fragile heart
Grows Strong,
With Tender Loving Care.