Even though she could feel the warmth of his breaths upon his lips, she could feel his chest rise and fall, and hear his heart beat and hers stop, she did not dare turn her head and look towards him. Even though he was a touch away, she did not dare make that contact.
All her life she waited for this. Could she ever believe she would sit by him and they will witness the eternity of sky, together. There they were, but she did not dare put him to test. She had been poise all her life, staunch like a determined sea not tearing up to any storm.
But this moment was fragile. She had carefully embellished her to the thread of her heart, she was scared to be disintegrated at its hand. How long has it been? She asked.
I don’t know, but I’m sure this is what eternity feels like. He replied.
They both sighed.
They loved this sight. There was something sublime about it. There were no day, no night in the gardens of Eden. It was like the sun and the moon were in a divine contentment, a state of blue between rise and fall.
Every fortnight they met. The moon, the tree, and she. Dressed in moonlight, her gorgeous locks flowing in the air, caressing them, she crossed the dark mystic field without a worry in her eyes. Upon gazing her, the moon and the tree sighed.
Step by step she walked towards her, each step felt like centuries to the tree. Even though she had to wait a fortnight, the longest was after having her in sight.
The moon blinked. He knew how tree felt about her. They often talked about how she baffled their senses. They talked in whispers about their fear of not having to see her after another fortnight. Fear was but their expression of longing, of desire and desperation. They were helpless.
What were they to call it? Love was often taken as mating of bodies. But they were mating dreams. Together was when people were bound to each other, but they were free with each other. So this was neither love, nor togetherness.
What is it then?
Whats better than tidying up the most dynamic year of my life with a thread of gratitude. Before I begin and if anyone is interested, here’s a link to Part I, the Scars. Here I go,
I am Home
I say, home is where there are people who will put up with your worst and who just won’t leave.
To find peace and harmony in your home is one of the greatest blessings ever. One I’ve been bestowed with, and one I will not let go for the rest of my life.
I took up writing merely to appease a heart in turmoil. This blog is my heart inside out. And what it has returned me is love, acceptance and the miracle of sharing. I consider this a huge compensation from the Divine for all the upheaval, and its worth it.
I haven’t been the most easy child to be dealt with. For one, I’m different. They don’t know how to console me, on most days I don’t know that myself. But they’ve stayed.
My mother is a woman of incredible strength and grace. How has she been able to wear her gorgeous smile all these years, through light and dark is beyond me. She is angelic.
My dad is a tough man. But he doesn’t give up. One of the reasons I haven’t given up on my life, was because he was standing beside me, despite our differences not letting me give up. I don’t know if I will reach somewhere or not, but I have learnt the art to carry on from these two incredible folks.
Thank you God.
A Beautiful Life
There are a million other things I’m thankful for, but I will sum it as a Beautiful Life. A life filled with amazing friends, privileges and comfort, and a soul. All my down days have left me with a heart that knows how to acknowledge beauty, and the source of all beauty is God.
She was the girl who wanted lilies. He was the boy from the maze. Why had they met? I don’t know.
When he first saw her, she was a haughty, stubborn being spending all day, everyday at the doorway of her garden waiting for something magical to happen. It was Summer time. When the sun used to be at the peak of its reign, snobbish, ruthless, depriving people of their minds and hearts. He used to be worried of what the sun might do to her tender heart so everyday he carried with himself a dense cloud of his gentle words to protect her while she sits and waits, adamant not to move.
I can fairly say now, if it wasn’t for his efforts to shade her, she could have burnt herself in the blazing sun. And for her, she didn’t take the privilege well.
Fall came. The sun grew milder, and his cloud lost a bit of its purpose. One day sitting as usual, waiting for magic, she looked up and saw a dense cloud blocking the rays of sun from reaching her. She grew furious. She pointed at the cloud and told him that it made her days blue. She hushed it away. He silently watched. He walked away, and never came back.
It was fall, after all.Someone was meant to lose something.
Little did she know, all this time looking ahead expecting magic to happen, she hadn’t even learnt to recognise it. For, magic was already there. She had to look up.
Winter came. And stayed. Years went by.
She had none of the magic left in her life. Her heart was a frozen speck in a forest of perpetual winter. She could ignite it for the night, but every morning the wood was damp and the fire went out. How many snowfalls there has to be before the Spring, she didn’t know. Or would there even be one? Nobody knew.
Perhaps the cold was a memoir to the magic that was once a part of her life.
This was her sanctuary. She used to go there everytime something stirred her heart. She would sit there for hours and silently gaze at the calm sea.
Some days she took me with her. The days she wanted to talk. Or hear her own voice. Everytime we sat together, she would look at the endless sea and say:
“Do you see how calm the sea is today? Someday I will be like her. Someday but not today, because the winds are circling up and I must prepare for the storm that is imminent.
The sea is magnanimous. When the storm hits her, it is not herself that she has to protect, it is the countless life forms that depend on her. Is it the sea in these life forms or are these life forms in sea? We don’t know. But everytime she faces a storm, she has a choice to make, she could either sustain them or crush them. And she chooses to sustain.”
Once she has reassured herself of the right choice, she would lay with eyes closed and hear the waves collide subtly with the rocks.
There was a strange tranquility in watching her lay beside the sea. It was intoxicating. I felt like I was gazing at two seas opening up to each other forming an ocean that was so compelling, it would sink any heart that wandered too close.
Open to gratitude and gladness. Explore what these experiences are like, and keep them going. Gently help them become as rich and intense as possible, filling your whole body. Open to related feelings such as joy, ease, or fulfillment. Embody gratitude and gladness by smiling, bouncing up and down in delight, softening your face, or reaching your arms out to the world.