Sun in my eyes is the son in my eyes

I untied a knot, a lie that I had told many years ago. Here, in this blog, and out there by a wall in Mumbai. About sun. About dreaming about it. About being intimidated by his glory. Tested by time, strengthened by faith and humoured by time's barely suppressed and now released mischief, today,  suns have no unnecessary veils with me.

And that being so, there I will go out out again and again, to look up believing I can see him.

The Leonine Age is back,

fear

It terrifies me.
The thought that i may never get to see you again.


25/01/2017

Ha. Allah Got me out of that fear too.

Now what terrifies me is that I may stray away from him. And that is a fear I don't want to get rid of.

Simple Chopsticks 1.1

There is a geography of psychology. As one journeys through life's situations, here and there, the terrain changes dramatically.. I have been seeing the foreshadowing of a tall mountain. A mountain of Regret.

I am gonna start writing this blog again so that I remind myself, life with all its jerks and sashays have been as it should have been only. Searching, filling, empanelling it with pins and words of what all were right in the past years of my life. I was so surprised to chance upon my own blog posting years ago when I wrote about Kancheepuram temple in another post and 6 years down the lane here I am living so close to the temple. (Remember, Febna, to write about it and don't forget Srilega's role)

But today, I begin with, I start with Yuki and Schuyler. People I deem my siblings. Married to each other. I was lucky enough to be there for the wedding. To officiate the wedding. Back then, it was a huge travesty that I did. Not going to my husband's brother's wedding but choosing to go to my friends'.

When time and diagnoses passed by, at the tethering end of a divorce, the siblings still remain. And it appears, the story was indeed played right.

Chopsticks, transport the food to our being. Events such as Schuyler and Yuki's wedding and me being in it, was a Chopstick event for me. It was big enough for me to feel that the whole question of Why was I ever in U.S could be answered. To be answered by saying- I was there to humbly witness in the closest proximity of a witness the beauty of a magical union.

No woman like my Yuki-chan. How I missed today the days we spent travelling Nicaragua. Back then did I know, a few years down the lane, I shall be sniffing the air in my memory lanes for the coffee beans we played with. And Schuyler, If I hadnt married Andrew and thereby landing up in that beach in Costa Rica, how would I have been there to see the Milky Way when you showed it to me for the first time?



Indeed. I have passed a good path. The important thing as I write and remember the good time, is not to be greedy and wish I was there stuck in time in those moments still. This geography too shall pass. For, even if my feet turn numb, the earth she rolls. On and On. 

Grafted Heart

Can you love a grafted heart?

Grafted it must be.
It was pale blue, tickled beat when I went to bed.

The sun now is by my window
And what that beats now, is red flame,
It thuds steel not tickles so, anymore and yes, it must be grafted.

I am lost because what's grafted beats truer than the one remembered.

I look at my fading face in the mirror and cry because
Whats grafted, is now shaming what is owned.

Body Consciousness

I have listened to my body for a hundred reasons..in my 28 years of living. But never before have I so feverishly, dedicatedly held on to my body. Held on to it for dear sanity. When the mental world rumbles, one just cannot afford to live in it. There are too many possibilities- some good some good but all equally persistent black holes that suck one's psyche in with all the tempted hypothesisations. In such events, the simple humble body of mine, it is my tripod, my refuge. I watch it breathe, I watch it move, I tell it stories of growing muscles and toning up.. and it holds me strong. Grounded.

My body makes me a tree. 

I Believe in Truth

Truth is stranger than fiction my friend.

It has wings, It makes me breathe, makes me fly.

Though the silver sword it cuts with, hurts my spine

I will take pain anyday, instead of the Fear of Flying And Knowing. 

Blink, Its a Dance.

Life it comes, lingers, never leaves, and then it comes some more
Memories upon memories, piling
Desires upon inhibitions
Even Oranges on Apple trees
Life, as it comes, swerve a little my friend.

See the sprain in my ankle as I strike a pose
So am I, for I ran to catch life head on


Hey Open Eyes, for you, a thought is a dance
Hey Wide Open Eyes, for you, a pause be a dance too
My Wide Eyed friend who lives to watch a loved dance,
To Watch the thought and pause dance.

Blink a Little.

Or one day, the dance breathes you in
And suspended, there remains no thought, no pause
No body to warm that spectator's seat.