The Nostalgia of Childhood

She was going through this since the past few months. She knew what had passed and definitely what was coming. But she shunned those powerful thought waves that recurrently tried to narrate to her the prologue of the book which was written in a language which she had never come across. She shut the pages of the book whenever they unfurled to acquaint her to the messages hidden in them with her complacence. But she had to read them one day, and then was it when she had to come out of her abode of immunity and face the real world. “Independence” is what people call this. For a few days even she was beguiled by the beauty of the novel experiences that were splashing onto her and the contentment of achieving what she had dreamed of. But she was unknown of the intermittent changes that were slowly modifying the definition of her life. And then one day she found herself landed on a destination from where she could never go retreat to the other side. Suddenly she realized  that now she was a “grown up” and could never even imagine to go back to the lovely land of childhood. Those wonderful days guarded by parenthood and free from the shackles of responsibility, she wondered where they had disappeared suddenly. But she felt even more miserable when it struck to her that those were never to come again.  

Can I ever again run back to my mother to complain when I am hit by the wall,

Can I ever again fight with my sister over a Barbie doll,

Can I ever again bug my father for my favourite chocolate,

Can I ever again fight with my best friend for scribbling on my slate,

Can I ever again go high in a swing and laugh out on touching the sky,

Will I ever again be scolded by my mom on telling a lie,

Will I ever again innocently enjoy watching a cartoon,

And doze off to sleep when mother narrates the story of uncle moon........

Such thoughts were pouncing onto her again and again and she had to combat them to find peace. She stopped those thoughts from hitting her by her intellectual maturity. This was a part and parcel of the journey called life, she finally understood and may be “Responsibility” has a charm of its own she thought and smiled...................

Arising Inquests

Finally feel like writing something after a long interlude :). Life was absolutely adorable,enjoyable and adequate for the last one and a half month. Spent some really mirthful and merry moments with my family. I felt as if I had unfurled the pages of my life tagged " childhood. "Met some long lost friends and relatives. It was like "reliving" my childhood without any worries about the past or the future. I had my parents to take care of my day to day needs and my siblings to have fun with.
I had plenty of time to chat with my family,watch my favourite programmes, eat the food I relish the most, get up late in the morning, no need to worry that I have to get up early tomorrow...
An innervation that everything was well and at the best it can be overwhelmed my heart.
But as life is, nothing is everlasting...
It is time life demands higher responsibilities from me and I "am" ready for them or am I" not"? I "can" handle them or "not"? I "can" fiddle with the newer circumstances or "not"? I "can" survive the rat race or "not"? I "can" live up to my expectations or "not"? These and many more inquests  inflict influence on my mind throughout the day.
A clash between optimism and pessimism echoes the walls of my mind.
But by the end of the day when I close my eyes, and peep into my mind waiting to acclimatize myself with the winner of the duel, I find optimism beaming with victory and bagging the trophy of confidence.
I know I am nervous because it is new, once I befriend the changes that life is bringing to me I will rediscover my alacrity. :)

Discovering the jewel called hope......

The porch was where you could spot her in the day. She spent her day gazing at the school children hustling and bustling in and out of the school nearby. A smile would unfurl on her face when she found her son frolicking merrily with other children. But in no time the smile would fade and diminish somewhere when she realized that this was nothing but an illusion, a dream that could never be true. Her eyes would well up with tears imagining where her son was in the universe. Life for her was like a dried river since she had lost him. Life for her now was lifeless. Even with so many people around she felt uninhabited. No rain could flourish the river with water again.
It was just another monotonous and melancholy day, and she was trying hard to resolve the conflicts raging between the realities and mirages enshrouding her life. She was again lost in the sweet disillusions that her deepest whims had set before her. That was when she saw a little boy approaching her. She couldn’t help confuse him with her son and was overwhelmed with bubbling joy. She instinctively moved forward to hug him, but the reverie was shattered when the boy uttered something,” Madam, will you buy these toys?”
Her exuberance was smashed to smithereens. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she hastily wiped them off to save herself from the ignominy.
She asked the boy,”How much do they cost?” The boy replied by asking, “Which one do you want Madam?”
“Which is your favourite one?” she asked.
“This is my favourite toy, my home which was made by my father.”
She asked him still visualizing her son in the little boy,"Where is your home?"
“It was near the fields before my parents died in the drought, and now the entire universe is my home”, he softly articulated. She was amazed by the boy’s braveness.
The boy continued innocently, “I am glad I did not die in the drought, otherwise who would have taken care of my Chotu.....” There stood Chotu besides him wagging his tail. He patted Chotu with his little but warm hands softly.
There was then a shower that brought water to her dried river. She was sanctified and rejuvenated by the hopefulness and optimism portrayed by this little angel whom God had sent to transform her life. She couldn’t stop the smile spreading like broad day light on her face.
The boy interrupted her felicity by asking” Madam, which one shall I give you?” She smiled and said “Come in my boy, I’ll tell you which one do I want.”She had already decided what she wanted.
She took him in, fed him with food and asked lovingly”Will you be my son?”

The Happiest Moment Of My Life :)

Whenever I came up across the question, “What is the happiest moment of your life?” I wondered what could it be and my answer was that it is yet to come. My life in the past few years has been a journey to find a solution to this question and my companions being the faiths I hold. I have always believed that patience will bear its fruit. But time and circumstances sometimes tried to throttle my faith. There were times when I felt helpless; I struggled to find a destination and more precisely a path leading to it. I stumbled and tried hard to keep my faith ablaze. The airs of uncertainty and apprehension tried to extinguish it. But today the same flame has illuminated my life.

                I always felt that something integral was missing from my life. People call it happiness and I call it satisfaction. But I had to wait to feel the real aroma and euphony. Believe me though the wait is the toughest part of the journey; it makes the destination sweeter.

Today, the bliss beatifying my parents, the love lighting their voices, the pride perforating their hearts, the trust emanating from their eyes and the faith flowing through their souls is what adorns me with the greatest achievement of my life and I can confidently say “This is the happiest moment of my life.”

Happiness

The sun was returning to its abode after a day's work. The waters seemed placid. The sand across the shore was glowing and glittering making the beach look like a field covered with gems. The wind played its leitmotif silently and plucked her eardrums softly.She tried to unravel what the wind whispered to her. The cold waters were moistening her slender feet, splashing water droplets on her delicate face.
She was relishing the joy of looking at her little boy play with the waters and the sand. Suddenly she had discovered the purpose of her life.She felt a great pleasure and a great sense of responsibility racing through her veins at the same time. She was again lost in her own thoughts when her reverie was broken by something that her son asked, "Maa, what is happiness?" Firstly she was amazed by her son's incredibility and then was shocked that she had never given it a thought. She emphasized her gray cells to get an apt reply of her son's question. She said, "That is what you feel when you get a chocolate."
The boy said," Maa, i feel like having one more." She smiled at her blatant defeat. She said,"It is what makes you smile."
The boy asked,"Is it a cartoon?"
She again tried hard to satisfy her son's quest for the answer by saying," It is what you feel after we go out for dinner." The boy replied innocently," I feel tired Maa."
It was getting tougher. Then she said,"It is what you feel when you hug me tightly."
The boy smiled and came running into his mother's arms  and then he said, "Maa I feel very happy."
She could instantaneously feel his happiness and could not distinguish it from hers.
And now there was an eternal smile on her face that shone and sparkled in the dusk.She was the most beutiful woman on the earth with that priceless beauty.
She felt something pulsing through her body and rejuvenating her soul and she softly echoed," This is what is happiness."

Rose-Coloured Glasses

The grey autumn is galvanising because, the blossoming spring is yet to entrance.....

The weary journey is what makes the destination dainty and jocund......

The enigma of the dark is enthralling because, the tranquil morning is sure to dawn......


The ignominy of failure is what makes the success expedition facile and grand......


The pain of parting is pleasurable because, it makes the reunion blithe and bouyant.....

The beauty of hope is what makes the odyssey of life spiteful and serene......

Thank you

Thank you for holding my hand when I needed one to pull me forward,
Thank you for tuning your heart to the motifs played by my heart....

Thank you for your caressing strokes that healed my grievances,
Thank you for never misunderstanding me even when I offered you to.....

Thank you for reading through my drenched eyes,
Whenever I couldn't see you on the other side......

Thank you for decrypting the arcane emotions which made my heart heavy,
Thank you for standing by me as a pillar of support and solace.....

Thank you for entering my life and letting me into yours,
Thank you for trusting me when there were times I breached your trust by doubting you......

Thank you for letting our amity conquer the tests that time had put us through,
Thank you for never letting my overweening insecurities stir your affection for me.....

Thank you for adding to my treasure trove a friend so precious and rare like you........