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.
Nature is empathetic.
When the trees have lost their leaves, when the nests have been emptied out, and their hearts reminisce, Nature calls upon chilly winds to console their cold aching hearts. The sky takes on a comforting warm hue as if condoling with the trees.
Then the little ones hatch in a cold world and accept the embrace of naked trees so they warm up their cores for a new cycle of life.
Thus they all heal each other through love and mutualism.
I often hear people express that their favourite age is childhood. And that is because the love and kindness in a child are unparalleled. While it’s true that a child effortlessly lights up a tarnished soul, kindness and love in a child are not his choices, they are the only expressions a child knows. They, as a matter of fact are a reflection of what they see in the eyes of their mother and feel in the hugs of their father.
So perhaps when we look upto the love of a child, we should really look up to who we become as parents. When we see a glowing child, we should walk up to their mother and tell her that we aspire to be as loving as she is!
And this is exactly why adulthood is my favourite age. It is the age in which you can choose to be whoever you want to be. An age where you’re empowered, and love and compassion are not Hobson’s choices.
I love the eyes of an adult man and woman, those that have witnessed the colours of heartbreaks, deceit, and loss, and yet they choose to reflect those of compassion and mercy. A choice that is neither influenced by naivety nor the freckles on their skin. One that is governed solely by character and strength of their will. That to me, is surreal.