when i am jumping from a cliff down in the deep waters, there is this moment of truth that flutters between diving straight in and staying on the ground. the heart beats, shivers, supportless... i am not too ready to dive in but not too boring to stay on the ground. there is a risk there. oh not of losing my life etc, a risk nonetheless, of leaving the comfort behind and exploring the mysterious waters, of being in the air without wings, of experiences unknown.

i understand what they say when they say , what is life without risks. its breaking these walls, these fears, untying unknown knots...being in the discomfort, in search of comfort, but moving away in another discomfort again, persistently, in search of comfort.

we are a funny species.

I have been rediscovering an extremely common statement of fact. Perhaps a reader of this post will sigh at the pronouncement i am just about to make, and not care to read what else follows. it is so obvious. but it is one thing to think something, and another to live it, to realize it. have i realized it or is it just a thought lingering in my head too long? but let me not regress, and pile up this post in the other unpublished ones in my blog account (because most of the things i want to write about are left unwritten with the amount of questions words ask me, when i place them down here, and then i take a detour and try to satisfy them, and it leaves me extremely unsatisfied, because it is not easy to satisfy words...precisely this. today i am going to let the glaring stares of a few questions just be. and move forward with what i think i want to say (why am i saying this at all? and who is going to read this anyway) whatever. i will still say this. (i realized i didn't find a spot to even close the parenthesis i opened.) oh well.

so, to state the quite obvious. People are different. period. and the difference is impenetrable, its like saying, the sky is infinite. what do i mean by it? i know what. but i can't limit it with definitions. one can never know how exactly the other is perceiving-smelling, touching, feeling, looking at the world. what we know is what we think we know. i walked a beautiful shadow strewn road in the sunny late afternoon today, and met someone very nice. we shared a very rare moment in life, and the more i spoke with this person, i realized that i am a person so different from this person. and in sensing this, i was defining my own self. realizing my own framework of viewing the world. we both saw though, how the flowers were in full bloom by the side of the road and the shadows of big banyan trees made our faces look really pretty. it is one thing to travel together. to journey together. share, care, love, fight, argue, hate etc. and quite another to know the other's journey.

i don't mean to adopt a solipsists position. i only want to convey the realization, that we are saying too much, when we say we know the other. there is nothing like that. it is merely a convenient thought. we could understand the other. but never know, in the philosophical real sense of 'knowing'.

to accept this, to take it for what it is, is where the real question arises. can we really love?

my heart asks me shut up. and lets me love. :)

honestly, if the heart could think, it would stop beating. phew!

i sit by the window that pours in pure sunlight. there is such peace here. i am a little weary of poetic descriptions of where i am, what i am doing. (i blame it on excessess)  but somethings are just truly, phenomenally, beautiful. and then if i use the word beautiful too often, its not my fault. how else shall i begin writing about this incandescent moment but place it in the serenity and calmness of maitraban. a moment of candid conversation with the self. perhaps not a conversation, but a moment of seeing the self, existing wholly, trully, as it is, in the blue quiet water below. and when this moment lingers in the heart, even the laptop screen reflects me, exactly as what i am.

 at such moments, most certainly, there is a feeling of incompleteness. of a lack. i realized though, as i saw ten thousand stars blinking in the night sky, that there is no urgency to fill this blank, that life's strongest and most intense moments are in waiting. waiting with dignity, waiting with hope, waiting with persistent growth, waiting without helplessness, waiting without sorrow. there is a rhythm to life one can't dream of meddling with. how i admire that elephant there, slowly walking, with the burden of his being, with childlike innocence in his little eyes, slowly, steadily, like a King out on his journey, oh but without indifference! there is an acceptance of the world, of the people, of the soft breeze touching his eyelids, of the hard dusty ground he walks on. no, waiting is a wait only as much as a seed is a tree. there is happiness in being the seed too... i didn't know...

in the whirlwind of life, the center should hold. it shouldn't tremble. we live so many realities, we wake up from dreamy nights, sleepless sleeps, thoughts mulled over and feelings clogged up. and every day there is something new, some new thought, some new face, some new newness. and we are dealing with it. i only wish the center to stay. only if i knew which is the center exactly. a formless pervaded life can have a center, i know, but the task is to find it and hold on to it. no, i don't want to be swept away. not so soon. and the center cannot be the ego...

the long black tar road

i walked down the foggy road this morning, which, rolled itself up suddenly and punched me on my face! no kidding! i was like, what the hell?, what did i do wrong? wasn't this a perfectly beautiful day and perfectly beautiful morning and wasn't i out on a great creative new journey? i was really taken aback. the road however, rolled itself up with more strength and punched me harder. 

obviously, i sank in a black hole. can you fight a long black tar road? if you can, let me know how. but i couldn't. and i drowned and drowned. as i drowned i saw all the dirt accumulated in corners and the rotting little live bugs i wished to have forgotten. i tried to cry. so many tears sprang up that i wanted to stop. the cruel punch from the road was not enough or what? what will i do with all those tears?! so they stopped. then i called some people i knew will lift me up and kiss me on the cheek and smile a smile that'll make me take another road, not this mean one. one after the other, i called. all of them said its ok. please be better. we love you. i looked at the black tar road and made a funny face. i knew, someday, i will have climbed the hill and rolled the silly road myself  :) and i can't let it occupy a rent-less place in my heart like that. better to be forgiven! punch as much as you want, mean tar road!

indissoluble

what is it that you want?

 love.

 yes love. but what does that mean? 

care. attention. 

well, granted. ok? 

no, i want something more. 

what?

 i want love.

what exactly do you mean? 

well, love. you see. love.

that i do. i do love you. i don't have to say it all the time right? 

oh yes, of course. you don't, you shouldn't say it all the time.

then? you should know what you want. you have what you want. 

no. i want something else. 

tell me. put it in words.

i want to spend more time with you.

that we don't have.

well then, i want to spend more of myself with you. 

:)

and want to know more of you too.

well. we have our lives for that. 

oh no. this is not what i mean.

what do you mean?

i mean i want to be loved. intensely. the way i do.

really?

yes. thats what i want.

i can't give you that. there is only so much i can give.

but i want it from you.

where from?

where from?

this is me. 

but i can't live without you.

:)

eh? 

i dunno. 

sunset. songs. night. nightmares. sunrise. a smile. a new blossom outside the window. and another day... 

Ajji

I cannot help admiring the grace with which some people grow old. and equally so, cannot help hating people who don't.one thing is for sure, i don't want to tread the world for 75 years and then rest in bed because my knees hurt! shouldn't these many years add to the strength of the spirit of life? 

today i met a beautiful grandma. she wore a soft cotton sari, (signature beautiful-grandma-sari) and smiled with her eyes as much as with her wrinkled cheeks. i got slightly annoyed when she couldn't tell me her own address (how am i supposed to know where she lives when i was to meet her for the first time?) but that snapped away the instant i saw her open the door. i hugged her, as i cannot help affection overwhelm me most of the times, touched her feet too. she innocently looked at me when i gave her the apples i got her but made a face that said 'was this necessary?' and then she thrust in my hand a big mug of mild milk-less and sugarless amazing ginger tea! it was a foggy morning and we sat in the porch, sipping tea. i was in love with her, instantly. the way she walked around and made a fuss when i tried to help her and went on with her "when will i do the walking then?, shouldn't i get some exercise too?" (aww). her hero is Winni the Pooh, him all over her blankets and mugs and cushions and bookshelf! she has a wooden old swing all for herself in the garden! she has a study scattered with books and diaries and papers! she writes! she has friends she cares about (still)! and she stays alone...accepting the darkness as much as the light and realizing life every day, with a new spirit.

That must be nice, to grow old like this, fully, as a human being. i almost felt like i cannot wait to be a grandma.