In the stillness of the early morning hours, the empty page stares at me. My pen is poised, ready to chart the course of the flight of my thoughts. The pristine whiteness of the page soothes my mind. Even before I have written anything, I am calm. With the process of writing I get in touch with that part of my soul which is nurtured by silence and blossoms with the light of attention.
She was sitting some distance away from me. Alone, just like me. We were both waiting patiently. Our eyes met and we shared a smile. Then she got busy looking out of the window and I scrutinised the busy scene around me. People were coming and going, there was the sound
IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER – by Erma Bombeck (written after she found out she was dying from cancer). I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earthwould go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day. I would have burned
A painful throat condition rendered me speechless, literally. There was quiet celebration amongst the kids as reality hit that there wouldn’t be any sound coming from me for a few days. Without the benefit of speech, I was completely lost. Talking as a way of expressing everything I felt was always
I heard this line in an advertisement some time back and have never forgotten it since. It gives me a sense of excitement and hope. It tells me that there are still things out there that have the power to shake me out of my adult complacency and bring a
One little stick is all that I can see. It is in the ground where it was planted many days back. The solitary leaf that was hanging, alerting me to it’s being alive, has long since fallen off. Now it is just a thin brown stick. I pass it every
Once, not too long ago, I asked the gardener to change the indoor plants in the living room. Dutifully, he removed them and brought in several new pots with lush green foliage. As he left, we got down to the business of cleaning the mess of fallen mud and debris.
On a sun-drenched patch in the lawnAn old, frayed blanket, carelessly thrownOn this I languidly lieObserving the cool, blue, winter skyBirds dance and twitter overheadWhile unmoving in the sun, I play deadI wait for the Koels sweet and lilting callTo reach me through leaves that rustle and fallBut she’s flown
Unbeknown to mom, dad’s lively mind hatched a plan that included his three kids, his scooter and a long journey. The occasion was our summer break and the reason was my mom’s sudden departure to her hometown, making dad realise that taking care of us was going to require more than
Keeping a fast on Gurpurab ostensibly takes the place of Karva Chauth for many. It’s very simple and basic. No food or water till the evening when the full moon makes its appearance. After spotting the moon, a small prayer is said along with the husband and the fast broken
