Send them love

“Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that’s all. You can’t see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.”

~ Mitch Albom

It breaks my heart to have parted ways with so many dear people…people that used to be such a tremendous source of belonging in my life. I don’t know what the future brings, whether these paths might converge again, but I cherish them, I miss them sorely, and I send them love.

Freedom from…conformity (The Life Laboratory)

If only we all took pride in thinking for ourselves.

And did not weave our entire lives in order to conform with what has been thought for us.

What if we could envision that this whole world is one big laboratory, the ‘Life’ laboratory, where each of us is born, and we conduct our own experiments, have our own little accidents, and come to our very own findings before we leave the laboratory, just as empty and wonderful as it was?

Continue reading “Freedom from…conformity (The Life Laboratory)”

Freedom From…Perfection

Picked white flowers fallen on the rain-soaked road on a breezy post-shower evening.

Walked all alone with myself, breathed in the sweet smell of wet mud, and sighed.

As the skies got darker, and so did all the colours of nature around me, I saw the miracle and the life that exists in that changing.

Life exists in changing.

I was alone, and I felt safe in my arms and in my mind.

I looked around, and for a moment, I felt like an invisible particle of the universe, something that existed only to observe and rejoice in the observation.

Then when I closed my eyes and looked nowhere, I felt that what was inside me was the centre of the universe.

I held those flowers together in my muddy hands. I felt the graininess of the moist soil on my fingers. The graininess, that which I came from.

I saw with magnifying eyes, traces of earth, black and brown, sprinkled and smeared across those pretty little whitelings.

What beauty in imperfection! I thought.

I caressed their petals, as the thought caressed my soul.

The Song of the Sufi

A huge, wide center-stage. The faint smell of jasmine and incense wafting in the silent air.
Men dressed in white, wearing white laced-caps, seated in a wide semi-circle.
Each one of them has their eyes closed, and the men in the centre
are seated with instruments before them; a tabla, a harmonium,
and then a couple of singers who hold their heads high and gaze within themselves with closed eyes;
breathing deep, before the first song of prayer and celebration is sung out from the depth of their hearts. Continue reading “The Song of the Sufi”

What I learnt about Love from Maya Angelou

Giving unconditionally.

Knowing that we are all the children of God, beyond age, race or creed.

Protecting, but liberating from protection.

Nurturing, but also a offering a free mould from the nurturing.

Not judging nor classifying as deserving or undeserving.

Not expecting it to be returned.

Forgiving, and accepting completely of having forgiven.

Love is: I love you if you are in the next room, I love you if you are in China, I love you if you are on a different hemisphere. And I’d love you even if you weren’t around anymore.

Love is: I love you for the soul that you are, that cannot be touched, only experienced. I’d love you even if you were a janitor.

Love is: I love you and what you have done to me doesn’t change that. I have forgiven you, and you shouldn’t feel indebted, you should feel loved.

Love is: I raised you, and I did it with more love than sense of duty. I’d like to fiercely protect you and treat you as my responsibility till I die, and I’d like to see you happy and hear you say I did good things for you always. But when you must go, and you ought to, because it is a beautiful world for you to explore, and your explorations will be unique and different from mine. I want you to be happy, and find your own happiness. And you can always come home. I love you. Go.

Love is: I love the human form you gave me, and everything else you gave me ever since. You steered through tough times and made sacrifices, many of which I wasn’t even aware of it. And you taught me that all I want I must work to get. There are still a lot of things to find, a lot of truths to seek. I will find them, but never impose them on you, or try to change you. Because I love you and how you liberated me. And you shall never be forgotten. And your life shall truly be your message. And your child shall be a blessing to the world.

Love is: I love my spirit, and I embrace the mind and body it came with. I love how close I am to the universe, and I can make choices in life every day. I love every bit of my life, and every moment, and every face, and every colour and landscape I see. Because I am empty of everything. But love.

Die today

People who know they’re going to die soon, are people with some of the craziest, busiest, happiest lives.

They have every reason to be that: they could, after all, die unhappy of a wasted minute.

They’re so busy doing things they wanted to, saying things they wanted to, making trips and learning music and searching for long lost friends, that they don’t realize how much they’ve lived in their few counted days.

What’s sad is people who are still in the dark about their deadline. People who live with the belief that they have a long life to plan for, to secure, to fear for.

And in the process, forget to make trips, to learn music, and keep in touch with long lost friends. And forget, that they might never be lucky enough to know their deadline in advance.

And when it comes, we would die unhappy of unthinkably too many wasted minutes.

In 50 or less: post 5: sleep

The lover grieves a broken dream.

The parent counts his worries.

The young girl tries to solve her wonderments.

Their eyes want to draw in.

The mind won’t stop ticking.

And the night passes, unappreciated.

And the morning sun shines with little effect over our sleep and wake.