My lost lore and self-discovery

From that of lost self, lost relationships, now I have a new addition to my lost lore!

The thing I am talking about is not as valuable  compared to the dent that a relationship or self-awareness can make; but it was dear to me.

I was looking forward to it like a lost beloved. searching frantically for the other partner in every tiny room of her memory, in the music that reminds her of the other, in the words spoken, in the care expressed and made to be believed as the truth, in every way she never existed but was carved out from her ordinary being and then... puff! it all disappears. 

The thing I am talking about is the tiny postcard I had written to myself. Earlier this June, I was visiting Singapore for an official event and while I was there, I met this kind hearted, bubbly colleague of mine. She follows this ritual to send a note to her friends, husband and to herself from every place she visits, either on work or leisure.

I don't know what made her pick-up one such postcard for me and she surprised me at the murugan idli shop, on the last evening of our Singapore stay by saying - " here you go! Write on these cards, one to your family and make sure the other is for you. I am telling you, you will love it when you receive these cards and read the message you wrote on them. It is an experience one should definitely try firsthand".

Though, this sounded little silly to me and the emotional state, I was in; I was reluctant and was behaving more like a tarnished soul (someone living with deep hopelessness and victimized kind of self image) but I couldn't stand the genuine request of my colleague and her kindness to even think of me and buy me two cards without my knowledge.

I sat to to write, the first postcard was addressed to my family, back at my hometown... Just wrote -  enquiring about their well-being and that I am writing from Singapore at a Murugan idly shop which appears too funny to me. I also shared a bit about my colleague and her postcard ritual"

When it was second one - special to me. I don't know what changed after the first postcard, my spirits were uplifted, I was elated to write the second. Especially, because it was for myself. 

The whole thought of - me sitting far away from the motherland and addressing the future me who may receive the postcard and more importantly the message in it. And all I knew was - I wanted it to be a special one. One that I deserve! One filled with words dipped in ink of compassion and honour for my own self. 

And that's what I did. I that limited space to write, I opened my heart for myself, acknowledging how much I am loved and adored, honouring the courage and grace, how far I have come and yet the joy I find in simplest of life's treasures and how such miracles (Colleague and the postcard) are God sent for my wellbeing and ease.

There was something so magical about this whole experience. And now, that my Colleague has already received her postcard whereas I haven't... It makes me long for it but this lost lore also helps me  keep the experience as timeless and beautiful as I please to; forever in my heart ❤️.

Gajra - Garland with the fragrance of Love

It was one of those usual Sunday. But mine was special because I was gradually ramping-up back with  my wellbeing, recovering after a two days of bed-rest due to flu. And I believe that was partially because I had fun filled and carefree bath under the rain showers (absolutely no regrets!! but only love :)) and partially because of all the extra work stress at office, my revolt and eventually the emotional breakdown...:(

Never mind, I was in the 'today' and back to the event that touched me the most. It was the Gajra's. 
Gajra's are floral garlands worn as hair accessories, primarily by the women of the house. I do not know much about the cultural significance of them but I get deeply allured by them. I believe Gajra's adds a magical touch to a women's radiance and vital energy of bliss and grace. I have also seen my mom's love for it and she wearing them at rare occasions.

While writing this post, I remembered - Twelve years ago, I had a chance to travel with my roommate to her native place and we visited a temple near Vijaywada (Andhra) where the women's are required to follow dressing rules and are allowed with a traditional attire only. Because I was carrying only indo-western dresses, I choose one from my friend's old traditional dress stock -The south-indian Half Saree and upon her Mom's insistence wore a Garja too. There was a deep sense of Joy and freedom. I somehow felt whole and at peace. 

Probably getting ready in an Indian traditional attire was something deeply rooted to my childhood happy memories. It reminded me of Navratri Festival, when Mom would dress-me up in different Sarees each of those nine days celebration and I would go to play Garba (Dandiya). I would spend hours in-front of the mirror just staring at me, in the sheer awe of my being in traditional dress. Those are one of my most cherished memories.  

.               

          (The south-indian Half Saree)

Well, today it wasn't me who had donned the Gajra, but my neighbour, her mother-in-law and distant relative as they were heading for a family function. When they got ready and were waiting for the cab to arrive, I offered to click pictures so that they don't feel bored with the unexpected long-wait for the cab and they all happily agreed. They were two elderly couples and a younger one (my friend & her husband). 

The ladies were all beautifully dressed in different bright silk sarees and all had tied the Gajra to their hairs. The flowers looked fresh and added a different aura to each of their personalities. I complimented them for those Gajra's and my friend acknowledged that her husband went out this morning and on his return he picked some from a flower vendor and surprised us all. 

The thing that touched me most was how pure and wholistic is the love of a guy who understands his women and her needs without even being asked for. It shows the devotion, dedication and humbling sensitivity which is translated in such gracious gesture. 

Each of those ladies (A mother, a Wife and an Aunt) was flaunting their Gajra's like a Queen and swayed it  with an inexplainable pride. May the feminine continues to bloom in the unspoken love of the masculine and May each of these energies weave and blossom in there highest potential navigating above and far from the shackles of false ego, shame, guilt, stereotype and baseless societal view points. 

Grateful for Everyday blessings

Today I struggled to pin on one particular topic to write about, to the extent that I felt I can probably call it a closure for this blog. The underlying thought was - I shouldn't be forcing myself to write. Whereas on the other extreme of all this, I remembered a few cheerful events like how one day, out of no-where my brother sends me a sweet video thanking me for being his sister. This made my day and it brought a smile on my face and filled my heart with peace in the knowing that atleast in some arena of my life I am of some value to someone.

Then I remembered the beautiful double decker rainbow that I witnessed day before, from my balcony after a soulful rain shower at terrace and some random chitchat with my neighbour friend and how she is such a blessing in my life and how I had missed her when I went home this time. It was a strange and a bit overwhelming feeling to know that she also missed me a lot while she was away for a month or so. 

(There are two rainbow in this pic) 

Then I remembered, this recurring thought of resigning from my job and how I started to replay my last working day in my mind and became  attentive to every blessing that I have just because I have this job... including the very phone/ laptop I am using to share my thoughts via this blog. The car that pick me up and drop me back home from work, two meals of the day, even the beverages of choice all thru the day, the citrus fruit that I took that day and the fun people around me, the best of managers who genuinely care for me and they hear me out when I am disturbed, seeking meaningful advices etc. 

How on days when I am unwell, I can just stay in my bed, my neighbour's kindness and love will feed me all three meals, my account will still get the salary and I can feel free to detach from work where as, I know a few folks who are denied of such blessings and can't even rest with a throbbing headache, have to travel for work irrespective, have to be dependent on hotels for each meal of the day and some are heavily dependent on medicines.

All this made me realise there could be a day I might run out of topics to write about but never a day to not be able to count on my blessings.

With gratitude in my heart and mind, prayers for everyone's wellbeing and ease, I signoff. ❣️

Old songs and watercolors..

Yup! Old songs (in loop), some inspiration and watercolors...gives me a different kind of high!

And....

Those old songs reminded me of home

 and I deeply missed Mummy and Papa🥰🫂.

While writing this, I realised both Maa and Papa has a great taste in music. They both love meaningful old melodies and sing well too.  

Perhaps this is a new found awareness :)

I loved myself a little more today, for taking this time against all the mental chatter and distractions and for following my heart

..to sit, listen to songs, paint 🎨 and loose myself in the unfolding of the painting...

#SpecialThanks to Sromona Chakraborty for singing 'Zindagi ke safar me guzar jaate hai jo...'💕

And Atif Aslam for such soulful unplugged records.

I wish there was a wiggle room...

I wish there was a wiggle room... Between the silenced heart and  the Roaring emotions... 

I wish there was a wiggle room...

Between the strong waves of triggered hurt

And Tears struggling it's way, in the day-light

I wish there was a wiggle room...

Between the flashes of memories, itched Hard

And the sinking reality, far-apart.

I wish there was a wiggle room...

Between the lessons that life throws at us and 

The lines we seek, in-between.

I wish there was a wiggle room...

From the path I was taking and

the one I was meant to...

I wish there was a wiggle room...

Between surrender and 

Being uprooted...

I wish there was a wiggle room...

Between the literacy of 'acceptance'

And the wisdom of 'deliberate rehearsals'...

I wish there was a wiggle room...

Between a bond of faith and friendship and

that of cerritude and estrangement

I wish there was a wiggle room...

In what looked like eternity and 

Lived only to define 'mortality'.

I wish there was a wiggle room...

To breath and choose,

To walk a new path and be my-own.

Wonderful bond of Faith - Brahminy Kite and me

7th July 2024

(Artificial intelligence version)

A cold wind whipped across the terrace yesterday evening as I paced in an "infinity loop," audiobook playing but unheard. My mind was a whirlwind – thoughts of relocation, work, self-doubt, all swirling together. Suddenly, a sticky web brought me back to reality with a jolt. This wasn't your average spiderweb; it was strangely strong and clung to me like a thousand invisible spikes.

A giggle escaped my lips as I imagined the scene from my neighbor's perspective – a spotlight illuminating my frantic attempts to disentangle myself, a scene straight out of a Mr. Bean show.

Needing a break from the mental clutter, I looked up. The vast sky, ever-present, offered solace. Birds dotted the twilight canvas, their silhouettes a calming sight. My heart quieted, replaced by a peaceful exhaustion.

One last gaze skyward before bidding it goodnight, a deep longing filled me. The Brahminy Kite, a rare and auspicious visitor, had been absent for far too long. Often, I'd spot them while doing chores or enjoying a cup of tea on my balcony, their graceful flight a source of constant joy.

With a silent request, I expressed my wish to see them again.

This morning, amidst a flurry of other kites, a Brahminy Kite appeared. Elated and filled with awe, I stood there, the magic of the moment a beautiful answer to a simple yearning.

This experience served as a reminder – sometimes, the greatest comfort lies in the simple act of looking up, appreciating the vastness above, and reconnecting with nature's wonders.

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(raw draft - human version)

This morning, between 7:45 - 8:30 am I got the best surprise for my day. The surprise was even more touching because it was a request answered in the most magical way.

Let's take a step back to 'yesterday evening' when I was feeling a bit low and wanted to engage in some activity to breakaway from the dullness, feeling of exhaustion from overthinking. I chose to play an audio book and take 'infinity-loop' walk on the terrace. The weather was cold and bit windy too...with no traces of rains.

Though, I was listening to the audio book, my thoughts eventually drifted from: relocating to home-town, the practicality of it, to whether continue with the current employer or move away or even re-start with permaculture and a farm-stay back at home, to ongoing events at office, to sports (I would like to engage with), to self doubt, to present - maintain an 'infinity loop' with my foot steps, to the messy, sticky and itchy spider or ant's web that I got entangled with! 

Oops....God really has a wonderful way of bringing me back to track :). I then lost the train of my thoughts and got busy feeling that weird stickiness on my right cheek and the lower arm that was lifted to de-tangle me...:P (I know, too dramatic). 

My thoughts were now busy analyzing the strong and strange web. 'Strong' because this was consecutively the third day when I bumped into it (probably it was too dark) and this time, I unknowingly scraped it from each of it's anchoring points: clothes line wires, the TV dish antenna and the terrace floor. 'Strange' because, this one in-particular, felt very different. The thread glued to my body was like a thin strand with invisible spikes which would open-up in all its mightiness when in-touch with humans. 

I was also giggling at the realization - how the night lamp from neighbor's terrace, shining on me like a spot light and how with all my shake-it-off gestures, the neighbour's would feel I may probably the live streaming of of one of Mr. Bean's show. 

Well, then I had to continue with my walk and a thought crossed my mind, what was it that use to bring me ease on such walks? And I looked-up at the sky. No matter what time or day of my life, this sky has always been my constant and shelter, my sounding board and my guiding canvas. I continued to walk with my head held up, towards the sky and saw a few birds heading back home, some bats, few grey and late Herons (I could identify from their silhouette). And the chatter in mind stopped, heart was at peace, in the moment and body tired and sleepy.

Just before greeting goodnight to the sky, I looked-up for one final time and had this deep urge and longing to see the Brahminy Kite. Which are a very rare-sight. And this time its been so long that it made a visit to me. I consider them as an auspicious presence which would fill me with ecstasy and my eyes would be glued to the sky following their calming flight trajectory

I use to often spot them in te afternoons, while washing clothes on terrece or during early evenings from my balcony which overlooks the vast sky in a panaromic view, where I would be having my evening tea.  . I always loved their carefree fight and have developed a special bond with them.

And that night, I requested the kite to pay me a visit and that I am missing seeing it. 

This morning it quietly appeared amongst other kites and I stood elated - filled with awe.

From Gentle Hands to Brushed Aside: A Lesson in Lost Sensitivity

I have been avoiding writing about this event that pulled my attention inwardly, on the lack of sensitivity for tiny living beings.

Growing up, in a joint family setup, I have had the privilege of absorbing (mostly unconsciously) some certain religious beliefs and customs, including ways in which one love and live life with the ecosystem around.

For instance, my grandmother was extremely loving, jovial and deeply understanding. She was very devoted to clean surroundings and I have seen how Diwali cleaning would literally mean deep cleaning; with every nook and corner of a household of 13 members being looked at. The biggest and longest project would be kitchen. Though it meant grueling times for my Mom and aunts, it was the most fun exercise for me.

Among other kids, being the closest one to Grandmother, I was also her right hand. I can say our vibes matched :). I would be the helping hand for tasks that needs some acrobatic (or say Monkey :P) skills like climbing the wooden stool, mopping the fan with a piece of discarded sock worn over a wooden brush with bristles (usually used to clean bedsheets), or to clean any top shelves, a showcase or even the top surface of a cabinet like wooden temple mounted on a wall. With the showcase, it was like a Pandora's box. If we stumbled upon any long-lost item or a forgotten one, there would be numerous stories that would pour out from recalling those episodes

I used to thoroughly enjoyed it all and the feeling of accomplishment after seeing my Grandmother's happy face was out of this world. Well...that was about Diwali cleaning.

There is another event I recall about the eldest of my Aunt who was deeply devoted and followed all the Jain rituals with discipline and she would do daily Pratikaman which is supposed to be done twice a day. And I would observe her dedication and devotion...and use to think she probably got it from her parents. I had met them and they were the most simplest of all yet the kindest.

My eldest Aunt, she is and the most disciplined and detached but extremely adjusting in her nature and also the most considerate among all the other ladies in the house. With all the knowledge that she would share with me, I always felt there are very few people who understood her...but felt she was blessed to have the most loving and caring Husband (my Bade papa). I recall from my childhood that whenever she would sit to do the Pratikaman, before putting the mat on the floor, she would makesure to sweep the floor with a white soft wool broom with a small loop handle. This was done to avoid harming any tiny insects.

Also, growing-up I have seen how we would never hurt any mice or any other insects like lizard or cockroaches but we would rather capture them and release them in the open grounds...far away from the home.

What nudged me to write blogpost was - this incident that took place three days back. At my BLR residence, I was in the kitchen making me some snacks (got hungry after my commute from office). From my kitchen, what I saw was an active black patch on the opposite wall, the one next to main entrance door of the house. The instant feeling was that of ugh! :(

With a knife in my one hand and broomstick in the other, I rushed closer to find that there is a whole colony of tiny humble black ants..each holding a white tiny cotton ellipse-like ball with it....but out of anger or disgust, I thought brushing them with broom would be the best and I can straight away land them out of my home in one powerful broom stroke and that's what I did! the next moment I realized, I was such a fool to have thought they would be obedient and will go as per my plan! rather, half of them landed on my foot!!

And then what, the next moment I stomped on some of them in my effort to shoo them away from over my foot, but all in vane. The rest of them have already sensed the panic and the whole colony was all over the floor of my living room. I was heart broken coz I never intended to hurt them but I couldn't control my irritation and felt disgusted about me. My neighbor was around and her sister said...just put some sugar or rice grains and they will disappear in few mins. This was the exact moment I was nostalgic, (remembering something similar growing-up and we would add wheat flour and not hurt a single insect), I was sad and teary eyed for killing some of those innocent insects and their babies, I was disgusted with myself for making a mountain out of an anthill (read - molehill). And I questioned myself, how this rushed-up life has changed me to be less sensitive :(.

I pray for those tiny life which were lost that day...May God bless their soul and bless me with compassion to be a little gentler in general with self and others.