Pieces of Life!

The muttering fan reminded her about the endless quarrels she used to have with her husband, while he was around and alive. Now at her 70, she got no one to visit her. Only a teenage girl from the next street visits her often. How their friendship evolved is a vague story to them. Hestia is this old lady’s name, Meaning goddess of hearth but she was calm as a stream.  Once her life was like a party and so happening. No one rather she knows why she has moved to this aloof place so abandoned.  I have introduced enough; I will let Hestia do the talking now.

Hestia speaks….

I felt like the Sun was gazing at me, golden and glittering. Afternoon window peeps have become my habit. Bird chirps are so good. Today I feel like dusting my showcase. It’s crazy that I have a showcase but have no one to show in here. Though I don’t have a fancy for tidy housekeeping, each piece this show case holds, holds a great memory too. Each of it was from different people, at different phase of life, as a gift, as a remembrance, as a thanks note and more. Each piece has sediments to cherish. I stare them for a while with pride and took soft pink linen to clean them.

First, my hand met a beautiful porcelain saucer in ocean blue. It had black stone embellishments; each of it reflected my chest length shadow.

The Blue Saucer and the Laughter

Rhea was my closest teen-friend.  That day was when we met for the last time since she had to move abroad with her husband. With tea and cake always comes a chat.

“Fire! (She calls me so) So tell me how you like him? Good for your library?”

I smiled. “Ree, I liked him. Love books. And that’s where I fell.”

“Hmmmm. So am I hearing wedding bells soon?” She winked.

“Yeah Ree! Of that kind.  You are gonna be missed this season”

“Dah-ling! I would love to stay here but things are different at my side.”

“I understand. If not will I spare?” I hit her softly.

She grinned.”Here, I have something for you. Taa-daaa!! A saucer fortune. Like it?”

I took it in my hands gently and felt it. “Oh I love it!! Too good for words to describe”

I gave a hug. I was really happy. The best thing is it was hand crafted.

“Well. Next time I visit, you are gonna serve me a cup of special cardamom tea on top of it.”

“Order taken, mademoiselle!!”

We had a long chat of gossips, books, movies and future.

She left me feeling warm and waving bye. I never met her again. It’s crazy how once-so-close friend go hidden for life from you and you make no efforts to find them. They just remain in your memory but afresh.

If you have one such person, write here _________________ .

After rubbing it to shine, I placed the saucer carefully back. Next to it was a wooden paper cutter, blunted long back.

The wooden paper cutter and Berry candies

The dull finish surface of the cutter had faded painting of a dove. It smelt like old true rosewood. I always wish my closet had one such fragrance to spray on.

It was given to me by an old lady who stays a furlong ahead my aunt’s house in the hills. My family visits my aunt every vacation and I never fail to have chats with that old lady. She was called ‘Kuntoo’, by herself.  She gives me pink candies of berry flavor each time I go to her. That candy tasted so unique and had a touch of love.

“Hello Miss Honey cake! What brought you here this morning?”. She has a husky grany-type voice.

“Kuntoooooo it’s my birthday today. I gave her candies this time.

“Wow my sugar jelly! Am so happy my kid”. She took a pink candy n began to unwrap.

“Alright what you have to give me today? Definitely not candies”. I extended my palm.

“ Haaaaaaa! My bubbly bunch of berry I have nothing so special with me now… umm.. But wait.” She rummaged her draw narrowing her tiny eyes. “Oh my cherry blossom! Here is it. Tell me how you like it?” she clasped her palm and dunked something into mine with a wide grin.

It was this paper cutter. Shining and new, I thought it was a new one.

“Plum jam! My granny gave this to me long back. She used it for her craft classes. I so loved it”. She kept seeing my face with expectant eyes waiting for my reaction.

“Kuntoo, I just love this. Thank you”. I smiled and planted a kiss on her cheek, for the first time. She was moved.

“Honey dumpling! Today you got to answer this. What is life? Tell me tell me”

“ahh! Not again Kuntoo am bored.”

“But you never gave me an answer jelly jar!” she frowned.

“Life is life. Byeeeee Kuntoo. Time to go” I rushed from that place not waiting for any reply. I was busy researching the paper cutter and wanted to use it right away.

“Happy bithd-a-yyyy…” I heard a voice fading out. That was the last time I visited her since my aunt moved abroad then. I never had a wish to meet her again. Not even now. Some relations are meant to be so, too good to be bothered.

Coming to the point, have you ever asked someone “What’s life?” Got any answers??                  

Now tell me, what is life?

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I am so lost into this wooden piece. It reminds me of Kuntoo’s beautiful garden, maintained so well by her. The unique taste of the berry candies she gave me, I can still feel it.

By the way, my memories made me so occupied. Let me sip some tea. Would you like to join?

Little pandora!!

. . . . . .  APPLE, MOMA, CHOCOLATE, DADDY, I LIKE BHEEM. . . . .

Its up to you, how can the above words relate to each other. Fortune took me there. The bliss of leafing through a little fairy's rough book, an incorrigible book of complete mistakes. By the first page information filled by his parent, I know his name and age (around 5). I had no glimpse about how he looked or what he is. Now let me pull you too into this rough book world. Dump the intellect-logic-orient-officer in you to the nearest basket seen.

To all of us, a rough book is such an essential, close companion and a trustworthy friend. We never realize how special we use to be, while switching into other. The one I got in my hands was such a book he left behind. I took and leafed over the pages. Few first pages were neatly written. Words in track of five, repeating poem lines and pinch of other details said he was really concerned about mom’s spat on shabby pages. Continued by still more pages of same clan, well, few were informative too!

Then came a mountain with two arms spread, a crowd of human like figures smiling towards a pool of water, a boy dedicating a bunch of flowers to the garden before, a stick man with 42 teeth. Little more pages again ring around A…B… C… D… (May be a teacher- pastime). “I love you mom,” hailed a page in vibrant colors. Flipping through pages of scratches and scribbles, “hi,” said an angry bird, smiling!

How feather-like is that. Firstly, a mountain smiling amicably with the arms widely spread. Past childhood, have you ever imagined a mountain pal? It’s all the little brain, which can make a majestic piece of earth, a friend. And that bunch of flower, have you ever felt like attributing the colourful bunch to the plant that gave those, and thanking them with a smile? Plucking a flower and thanking the plant! Wierdo is it? Yet try once when you own a flower. A stick man with 42 teeth is a toffee to muse. 10 teeth, why not? ‘I love you moma,’ doesn’t need long lines to explain. Just to watch the line, I felt gifted. A purple colored angry bird, at least I have not seen this game hunk, a new punch a punchy game, kids knew it, passing on clichés.

Then again few pages of emptiness, a red dragon, empty, pink frock, emptiness and there ended the little notebook, with a blow of my happy sigh and filled heart. A single book of a tiny fairy had creativity, out of the box thinking, musing, fantasy, message, philosophy, fun, games, love and life. It did teach me so much. Those counts-less moment were countless! When I got so attached, I could relate many things with the filled and unfilled pages. It conveyed me the flow of life. Laconic yet deepness is what I travelled through.

Hope I took you through a happy journey through the flipping papers, wishing you could relate things with your own instincts. Try grabbing a rough book and skim through at least once in a life time.  I really wish I could go back and see how my rough book was. Teach children to save few rough books to chew upon in future, so that they can spur with naivety when grown.

Hah!! This tot has put me into a different world of cognitive demand and ignorantly playing in some part of my earth. God bless you angel!

                                                          have a happy time!!

Fruit Salad!!

Hey !! Bored up with your usual salad recipes?? Well, anyways I am not giving you one

here ( blam!! :P ) . This Fruit salad is a pot of my musings that felt delicious to me, and thought I could share with you. I just wanted to refrain from naming it ' Hotch Potch'. Ok!! Guess that is a long explanation for the title. Now I will take you and my pen along to my musings.

We all ponder, muse, brood over ( with respect to our vocabulary ) our minds shuddered by many moments, incidents, scenes that we pass by and keep chewing on it and may be we register few for a life time waver. Here, what I write is in no way much special from your's but just a soul given a body. As I will start with my musings, you do travel along. I assure all my musings are as simple still useless as the other and nothing to deal with anti-corruption or life resolving strata.

• I would like to start with something our Mom, Amma, Mama ( whatever the magic word be) do in the evenings. All of us, I promise have seen her doing this but I am weirdly surprised at this of late. At tea time and on, a very interesting "something" would be on the TV machine and we but for her would be sitting, jaws down before. We keep discussing, chatting and interrogating on that "something" where in she would be busy with kitchen or house chores ( probably a self pick ). She will peep in to the TV  hall with a vessel, cutlery or a piece of cloth at regular intervals asking for the topic of discussion and gets back to her business. What and how could she manage the urge/tempt to watch that scrap box when everyone else is fixed on it?

• That was one of my unfortunate moments. When my train's arrival was announced to be delayed for three hours with that monotonous voice ending with "din din" that too in a language I can never understand. My hotel room was checked out too. With no other option I sat gazing at the people around me. At the end of the first hour, I could just yuck out. I continued the same with less possibility for any other choice. Another hour passed and guess what?? Now the place seemed so beautiful and deep to me. How wide were the spectrum of people around me! My grimace danced face transformed eventually to a face that looks after a warm water splash. The colours, moods, age, emotions and attitude..... Wah!! I felt gifted to get time and mind for such contemplation. A family was sleeping beneath my stone chair in the floor. I noticed them only now. All their mouths were opened grappling with a deep sleep, which few of us cannot imagine to experience in such a place, I realized my perfumed duppatta over my nose! Here, who would be richer, happier and giving face up to life?? I am sure their "lungi turned travel bags" had more meaning than my American tourister (anyways I dint mean to showcase my travel accessories).

• I felt so down and so I took a temple trip around and let my mind-written essays to the statues or the "may-be" soul inside it, in seek for fulfilled wishes. Every where I stepped in, I was lucky to stand by and watch the small kids out there. At the end of this little yatra, I  could deeply imbibe smething, those little tots had no essays, not even one lined request to keep before the God. They could not stand their eyes closed for a minute. What made them so independent of prayers? More than prayer, what made them be free spirits not wanting anything more from brain but heart? I f that is a childish innocence, what made us grow up and decide growing up means increasing your age with your needs? Why do we become so cynical with our own life?

• This is something very simple. Giving your face to the rustling breeze, cool and fresh. What a sorcerous thing it does with our mood and sometime soul! Sitting by a window, travelling in slow pace and monsoon walks can give you such a "wind palm-touching-your cheek" experience. Nothing but only this can give you a tender, lush, moist feel that is so humble and lace. How is it possible for such a small touch to make a giant change in hearts?

• I am not a philanthropist but how beautiful is this human-race, I will put it as human-ship. Evolution or God made, the transcend inflections through eras and years, How was it possible? Like cassettes passed on to iPods, so do the human mind, soul and emotions.What is the green-light of all great and sin things that exist now? Why are we so intricately woven with changes and transient stay? How do we learn to accept it? Docile but stubborn.

• Have you ever tried placing a spider or an ant from one place to another? It rounds the same point for few seconds, confused and starts marching for the next task. Just as that, when kids are picked and dropped into a whole new environment, in minutes they make friends and smile so broad, the changes are just acceptable and adaptable for them. Now who is matured here? 6th sense, growing up, getting intelligent means being or hedging towards an immature mindset, where in we forget to happily get fit to changes?

This and many puts me into my abyss world and my mind keeps wondering while wandering, I do have so much to add and I will update here too.Thanks for your patience. Hope at least one of the above had a same-to-same HI5 with you :) do share it.

PS: Excuse me for the question marks for I really meant each one of it and dint use to make my writing

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Have a nice day!!

Jack and Jill, went up the hill!!

                                              I was musing about the emotions that fill in our days, at-least more than one each day. Egos, expectations, disappointments, heart breaks, love, truth, false, fault, experience, regrets, money, fun to be, future, family, feud, cheating, hypocrites,criticism and what not??. To explain or discuss about the days we pass on, any one of the emotions from the said list had to be picked up. We pull in an invisible cover and be never out of that. As we grow, the topics to discuss grow along with us. But is this the real "we"? To turn and walk back to see a long road walked through.

"Jack and jill, went up the hill, to fetch a pail of waaaaaaaaaaater...............!", cute rhymes, cute chairs, cute dressing, cute bags and pencil box, cute friends around, cute lessons to know, cute fights, cute us and a cute world. Those days were golden. Following what our 'miss' said us to do, wrote ABCD as much criss cross we could, having a great laughter for jack falling off from the hill, comparing pencil designs with friends, unaware of stolen erasers, utmost happiness when our friend has birthday, because we are allowed to have more than one to many chocolates, stammering, dancing like a poisoned cockroach and feeling it to be so classic, life becomes miserable for few minutes when teacher growls, fighting with our classmate and he turns out to be the bad character of our favorite cartoons, a scoop of icecream and a couple of chocolate can put us into the hands of any 'x', color pencils and sketches can make our day complete, Terminator and spy kids made us feel we were born, one to be, grandmom and granddad were our so best friends and this list may prolong or shrink depending on each of us. But to put it in a point, Ignorance is such a bliss, some one has said it so true!!

Jack is still falling off from the hill, in different cute voices. He is happy to fall everytime to make a child happy. We have moved on too far from him. I recently saw a kid being forcefully pulled out of his home by his father to attend school. He whined so louder. He was asking his dad to let him stay at home. H e had no mood for school. His dad tried so hard to convince him but in vain. Suddenly glared with an idea, told that he would ride the bike through the park. The flip side of the last word from his dad, his weeping eyes took steps back and smiles, he happily hugged his dad from the back seat and started to school. Another kid, felt so reluctant to take a test in a tuition center, untill the teacher said she would paste a star sticker in his note if he will do it well. This was captive enough to make the kid perform good!!

We all were so once. Is that the same case with us now? Would we flip our strongest decision for a ride in dad's bike? Would we work more productive if we are offered a star sticker? I mean just the sticker. That looks so absurd to us right? But how happier things would have been if demands were only this!

Such questions and exclamations can often pop in our mind often. But just think, how we actually were when we were kids. Did we know ignorance was bliss? Did we at least know we were ignorant? Certainly not. As office or lab is now, so were schools to us. As GATE,IIT-JAM,CSIR is now, so were the class tests. As insentives and increments now, so were lollypops and candies. As we were kids, things happened around us and the way we looked at it were the whole enough to give us all kind of emotions we had that days. But as we grow up the things tat would give us all such emotions has also grown up equally. Does that mean not we are getting stronger?:)

Confusing isn't it? I too wrote it with such confusions. To hold it all as one, what I had to share is, as we grow, so do our emotions. When we try to understand Higgs boson, ABCD would look nowhere and nothing to us. But as a kid, we all twiddled between our eyes, ears and brain to make it stand in mind. So is life and emotions. Now we feel life as a kid was happier and easier, but then they were the tune that made our lives. Beauty lies in accepting we are growing in every means each day.Saying "I was happy when I was a child" is uncertain. You must put it as"I will be happy if I am still so, emotionally and mentally". But world will call you insane. People who have strong heart to accept it can continue to be. There are already few people who has accepted it and living with that rue bliss. The point to be accounted is we ourself have an indifferent attitude towards such people.

So wishing to be a child again is as meaningless as you wish to grow older and weaker in every ways. The only thing that can make us happy yet is, we all definitely possess at least one among the moments, wishes, emotions that we once had wen we were a kid. Take a sigh and feel good for that. Search that few things within you and make your life contented for that part of you. That is what life is.

Thanks for your patience. Hope I had renewed few of your childhood memories and let your lips to go a lower crescent!! :) 

Have a happy day !!