And He laughed and laughed and laughed..

I watched the kites fly with the wind
And teased their dearth for a will to rebel.
I wrote my name along the shore
And challenged the waves to strike its core. 
While He simply watched and laughed..

I guarded my words, I guided my steps
Lest perfection lost way, lest the clown within trips.
I refused words that soothed, the hand that calmed
Being way too strong, beyond hurt never wronged.
And yet again He watched and laughed..

I painted the world in black and white
I carved my beliefs with an iron-willed might.
I felt no stutter, no stumble, no sway
I walked head held high and feet slightly on air
This time He watched and smirked..

When the time came nigh for Him to show
How wrong I was, how life changed its flow.
He did so with that smile intact
A gentle hand to hold me tight.
While I stood there struck in awe.

He stopped the rebel, He crushed the ego
He taught me to be free, be full, let go
To accept the help, stretch out my hand
Fall to the earth, make peace with the land
Confused I watched the me grow..

.... I just re read and found my last para as totally crappy. Trying to find a way to end it.. Till then let it be incomplete.. :)

..Bcos the entire universe conspired to help me find you..

Its funny how some people leave such an imprint on your life, and you shudder to think that a moment's lapse and you would have missed them forever. He was one of them. Though there are quite a number of special people you know happened to you in such moments, he tops them all simply because he was the one I thought of when I heard this line. That is how much he played a role in my life. And he would have slightly never been there.
We were in the same city together for a quite significant portion of our lives, walked the same roads, probably even crossed paths, never to even give the other a second glance. Fate intervened enough to keep our lives to just a mile apart but we never cared to try. It took us more years and many more miles to discover each other in the most convoluted way. A guy randomly held his hands out to me and I reluctantly slipped mine into them just to be pulled into a vortex from where there was no return. And right somewhere near the middle of this never ending whirlpool I chanced upon him.
Avana pathi naan enna solla....
I am not here to describe him, I wouldn't even try to. Every day I see something new, something different, each day is a discovery of who he is. From the first moment when he pinged me to the last ping I sent him every moment has been a journey. Of laughter and tears, of discussions and arguments, of complaints and consolations, of insane and insensible rants, of crazy theories and impossible philosophies, of secrets that somehow just make their way out of a dark and deep slumber. Its not that he needed to be there for me, its not that I needed to be there for him. I was there, so was he and somehow it made sense to be there for the other. At certain points in life you just need a ear, probably a feeling that someone was listening, someone was concerned, someone cared. Because at the end of the day your problems are for you to solve, no matter what the solution the world tries to give. But still for that moment when all you want to do is shout or sing or simply blabber, you're glad someone had the patience to listen. I'm glad you did.

Sometimes you need to let go..

It feels heavy and it feels hard, but then you know you did the right thing. Because deep inside despite all the misgivings you know any more of holding would just increase the pain when the inevitable happens. There are moments when you understand that the thing that makes you feel your best and gives you a happiness you never knew before was not meant for you. And by keeping it to yourself you were actually crushing it and ruining it of its own happiness. You were causing it an unbearable pain and in the course causing pain to you too.
Its in moments like this that you see who you really are. The monster living deep inside you who was waiting for the right victim to attack and devour. Its a moment of self-realization, to make you understand a part of yourself, something you see you need to change and work on. Something you would never have known otherwise. You just feel sorry that you had to show it all on the one thing which dared to open up a whole new world to you.
Though now deep inside I wish I could reach out and call it back again, I know I shouldn't. I know it was right to let go. Because it might be numb now, but I've made sure that need not last forever. I can see it living its life of happiness in the future. And that makes me smile.

"Hmmm"

When silence makes up most of the time that actually need conversations, it might not really mean what the world says. Maybe there is something beneath that you are not much aware of. Or maybe you are aware but then think you're acting quite clever by closing your eyes. Being blind never means that the sun doesn't rise every day, the moon doesn't go through its phases, the tides don't ebb and flow. It just means that you don't see them happening and don't know how they are happening, but they are. Ask the blind what they are missing, ask the dumb what they want to say, ask the deaf if they miss hearing the birds chirp. They will all tell you how lucky you are to have all these senses and still so thankless not to use it.
Silence is good, for people who are in meditation, who are solitary and want to be away from the world. What you forget is that with each increasing day of not using God's greatest gift to mankind, you get so used to the quietness around you that you forget the days of directionless banter that actually gave you sanity. You reach a point where you think before you talk because you rarely talk and so when you do you want to make sure it has its importance. And some other time you just hate that silence being disturbed. You like it to stay that way.

Where lies my 25%?

The greatest gift God gave to every child was the mother. And then to augment it He gave a grandmother.. No, he gave two, to tell them stories of times gone by, to sing a lullaby of periods lost, to bring them into the fold they lived in, to be the buffer when the mother boils over. God blessed me with those two. And then he decided to give me one more. To explain to me by actions a virtue expected normally in a family - unconditional love.  Just that this was not the bond that pulled us together. What bound me to her was not something that could be defined using the labels this world created for the myriad relations that existed here. But for simplicity sake I called her Ammachy.
So what did I share with her? Probably just our birthday month. But what did she share with me? Anything that a grandmother should.. and some more. That silent prayer, the caring touch, the smile of encouragement, the look of displeasure, the addressal signifying a belonging and then that odd but cute "thank you" she ended all our calls or meets with. She didn't have to give me any of that but she did, and with such passion combined with the rigid belief that it was her duty. She felt she had a right over me at times even stronger than my parents and I loved every bit of that.
Spending days with her, listening to her talk endlessly on mundane stuff with more attention on the delicacies she prepared, was a sort of ritual I needed to do at least every quarter. She was the reason I developed the love for good food, the patience to listen, the interest to build, maintain and especially remember familial ties. I was awed by the way she kept such awesomely close contact with her super extended family sans Facebook or mobile phones.. with just hand-written letters. Unfortunately try as I might I could never emulate it. I still remember how years back when this girl took a playful turn to church by talking and goofing around right in front of the altar Ammachy quietly pulled her towards herself and kept her there making her understand the sanctity of the whole service more with her stern looks than by words. She was the inspiration for my belief in God, she showed me how much He would help through her life, her experiences. Even when she scolded I felt it funny, funny because I was taken back by how she could so effortlessly take full control of us, because I didn't understand how or why she bothered so much,  because it amazed me that someone could take note of such intricacies and point it out. When she complained I smiled, at the innocence, the childishness, the expressions her face took. When she cooked I stood admiring her sense of detail and oh yes, the cleanliness. I think I can go on about her need for linearity and order. Her likes, her interests, her practices which had been constantly the same over the forever years that I have known her. Forever years..
And beneath all this I felt a love I knew would be missed for the rest of my unknown life. In this world where everyone gives only with a surety for some distant future I got from her something I would never be able to measure up to. I was gifted with a bond that I could not give a physical description to. It all stemmed from the heart.

Nothing to complain..

Nothing is permanent in this world. No one stays forever. No feeling is unconditional and no act is selfless. And being a part of this self-centred world why should I complain of people who come and leave at their own will, who make use of what u give them when your gift itself has a ring of selfishness associated to it. You cling on to people for your own needs, where is the justice in you expecting them to be otherwise. The world is as good as you get. If what u did was good, so was what people did to you. And feel good that you were good enough, which is why you were saved from worse states. Its been a good life, always was, always will be.

Love blossoms..

Every Sunday for many years as I could remember I used to wait at the entrance of my church for that Corolla which stopped there. And then as the doors open a smiling grandma in her pastel shaded sari n grandpa in his spotless white mundu emerged, the wide smiles on their face as they gave each other a moment's glance, a few words exchanged, sometimes a laugh and finally the entry to the church. They looked more like siblings than husband and wife each glowing in the others light. I never managed to ask them what was special about their love. But I could see that over years and years it had grown and molded into an inseparable bond.
He was never the perfect man, but over the years, she said, she had grown to learn what he liked and adjust to it. Life was devoid of all the romance that movies and books talked about but then it wasn't a life she wanted either. She toiled at home without much of an expectation accepting all she got as the greatest gift from God. It would never have been a perfect life, no life is. But every single time I see them both hand in hand as two little kids who look over one another, I get the hope that perfection can be created. A little bit of letting go on either side, patience and the will to see through everything together will make any journey much wonderful. And over the years it grows into something beautiful.. if only you try.

No More Words

Words sting worse than actions. And especially when they're are written words, they stay for posterity, until erased off or deleted, for the affected to revisit till it gets ingrained in thier hearts. Like a birthmark, never to go. From time immemorial we have learnt of wars fought, kingdoms lost, civilizations destroyed all because of the ill-used words. And still we don't learn. When God created Man, he gave him a major boon.. or so He thought. The mouth. And then Man created words.

Life is all so simple and uncomplicated when you don't know to speak, when all that you said were just words which made no coherent sense. At that time, it was all cute to everyone's ears. And finally when it started making sense, you're talk becomes senseless, your words become meaningless, your thoughts become heartless.

And you finally understand how it was all so better when you just didn't talk. When all you did was smile at people and get back home to talk to that pillow on your bed. At least you didnt have to touch up your grammer, tone your accent or prune your words to make sure it was not hurt!