over the evening sky –
every moment is new;
every second I feel alive.
First the mellow yellow
and its golden tones
pull me deeper and deeper
into a pensive mood.
Then the sun turns crimson red
painting the baby blue sky,
and my thoughts,
prettier yet with pink anew.
Words fail, poems melt
when the scene changes
and the carpet above now
dons purple hues.
All this magnificence
that surrounds the
reminds me of none but you!
Did you to learn this language –
to speak without words
yet convey to all
kindness and compassion
through your eyes
through your deeds
from the setting sun
that uses no words
yet inspires everyone
by splashing colors
over the evening sky?
The mystique of your mind – so beautiful, so moving.
…when everything else around seemed to slowly drown in the sea of ordinary, and there I was, lifted above, catching a glimpse of an emotion so pure that it’s hard to put in words.
On a hot sunny afternoon we (eight of us) take a stroll on the Brooklyn Bridge. While K leads the way, I keep to the back of the line to make sure no one gets lost. Everyone takes their time to absorb the views of the city from different spots, marveling at its grandiose, to click photos here and there, freezing those moments over and over again.
Me? I am lost in a world of my own as is the case most of the times.
The surrounding crowd of tourists stopped at every foot to capture their dazed expressions with the city in the background makes me smile. The surrounding crowd of locals, walking or cycling along, infuriated to some extent by the sightseers’ antics makes me smile. The surrounding crowd of vehicles moving inch by inch, playing music so loud, at times, making the conversations of the person next to one inaudible makes me smile.
Happy faces, tired faces; English speaking minority, non-English speaking majority; excited voices, exasperated voices; calm river underneath, frantic drivers to the side; colors aplenty. Walking amidst this chaos brings me peace, so undefinable.
Suddenly, I hear someone calling out my name. I know exactly what it is that I am being invited to do – pose for a photo with everyone except K as he more than gladly
hides takes the spot behind the camera. And what do I do? Well, shockingly, not the usual. I don’t pretend never to have heard my name being hollered across the bridge; I don’t turn around to grin and then protest vehemently the need for a photo with me in it; I don’t roll my eyes or grit my teeth or cringe before walking over unwillingly to stand in front of the camera.
To my disbelief (and, possibly, the others’ too), I hop over, as if there’s a spring under my feet, without any inhibitions and take my place next to Mum (K‘s mom). I am not over thinking these two seconds, making it a trice of refreshing change. But before I can pat myself on my back for being such a good team player for once something of more importance happens.
Mum puts her hand around my shoulders and pulls me closer to her. Readily, my feet move an inch or two. She then places her palm on my cheek and draws my head close enough to have it lie on her shoulder; I gladly follow her lead. She lovingly pinches my cheek, as a mother would her child’s; my eyes – they are both beaming and tearful.
The tenderness and purity of emotions of these few seconds makes my day. This raw display of affection in the most unexpected time and way makes my smile wide. This gentleness of it all screaming of motherly love clouds my eyes. My heart skips a beat.
The photo is taken.
I wear my goggles to make sure my misty eyes go unnoticed and try to move over, but I feel a hand tightly holding mine. Mum, again. I hold hers back, savoring every bit of what is being showered on me. My mind wanders to whether it was my immediate acceptance of the invitation to be in a photograph that has made her communicate with me in this way, out of the blue. But then I quickly come back to the present – why / how does that matter? I cherish the time, for then and for ever, and move on with a heart overflowing with deep sentiments.
To anyone noticing the two of us those few seconds it may have seemed like a simple, random, insignificant, ordinary act. But to me that flash in time is / will always be monumental. I can’t put a pin on exactly why, but why should there be a need for that? I know what will stay with me indefinitely when I look back at this trip anytime in the future, near or far; I know precisely what has made an eternal mark in my mind’s eye. It’s not the reason why there’s so much love, but the fact that there is abundance of love in my life. And for that I am infinitely grateful.
The sweet drumming of various utensils in the kitchen heard alongside the birds’ chirping early in the morning. The voices of people merrily sharing stories as they sit together sipping on tea or eating breakfast. The chorus of good mornings / good evenings heard as K or I walk into the living room. The phone bell ringing every now and then in the house where phone was used oh so rarely. The musical hum of laughter from someone or the other heard throughout the day. The clatter of more than a dozen pair of shoes as the invitation to embrace the evening outdoors is welcomed. The pleasant hullabaloo in the hurry to narrate the day’s happenings to us as we return home from work. The big bustle in the dining room every night as everyone settles down for dinner. The hushed sigh of relief as we all gather in the living room after finishing all the chores in the kitchen and elsewhere.
And the silent sound of love that lingers even during those wee hours of night when everyone has blissfully fallen asleep.
P.S: Mummy and Papa (K’s parents), along with their friends, and two of K’s cousins are visiting us from India. They’ve been here for about ten days now and will be around until October. A few more relatives (his sister, Aunt and Uncle) are scheduled to arrive in June. Needless to say, it’s been a full house, and I’ve been thoroughly enjoying their company.
Come with me
to that happy place
that we once built
with colorful dreams –
to that place where every wall carries paintings of our togetherness;
to that place where every corner echoes with our smiles;
to that place where every tear shed was of joy;
to that place where our souls’ marks have been etched to stay through eternity -
Come with me
to that happy place
that gushes with love
We, K and I, are waiting at the oral surgeon’s office for a consultation. I am not too anxious, but in the hopes of calming my slightly tense nerves K has this to say –
Look at the bright side – imagine all that weight you’ll lose after the few hours of surgery. Getting rid of 4 wisdom teeth at one go definitely will help towards your weight loss goal.
Yupe, that sure perked me up right away.
…rings throughout our home.
Peanut and her folks (parents, grandparents and grandaunt) have come over to stay at our place for a couple of days. Their apartment flooded this morning due to some malfunction in their washer. Hence they were forced to take sanctuary here until their place is dehumidified and cleared of all the soaked carpets.
As much trouble as it is for the new parents and others, I am unable to contain my glee every time I see Peanut. I beam every time I hear her squeaky voice; I run over to be by her side every time she opens her eyes and steps out of her state of slumber. Her tiny palms and those long fingers, her little toes, her beady eyes, her rose bud lips – I can stare her all day long and not be bored for a second. The calmness that surrounds just by looking at her has no comparison. She imparts serenity wherever she is, I tell you. She is just so perfect and oh so beautiful, in every little way.
I am head over heels in love with this little darling.