Baby, you make me sing!

It is amazing how a little human being with tiny feet, pink cheeks and hair like strands of silk, can make a singer out of anyone.

The beauty of singing for a child is in its spontaneity. You have no idea whatsoever of what you’re singing; you just start ‘la-la’ing off to make the baby stop crying. And when it seems to work, when the frown is gone, and the eyes shift focus on to you, or close peacefully in slumber, you suddenly realize that the gibberish you sang was really a tune. And you sing it again and in loop. Right then, at that point, you become a singer. No matter how harsh a voice you think you have, when the baby in your palms will start to cry, you will sing. And that song will be the most beautiful, because you will have no idea of where the song came from, and you will want to sing it again and again, just to re-experience the joy of having relieved the divine little being of its restlessness.

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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.

5 Questions…

– If you were to wake up tomorrow with only the things you were grateful for, would you be satisfied?

– If money didn’t exist, would you still be doing what you do for a living?

– If every word you said would get inscribed on your skin, what words would you speak?

– They say that it’s likely that at least one person thinks of you every night before going to bed. Do you know who that could be in your life? Do they feel loved in return?

– What if, with all the good and bad stuff that makes your life right now, life is just as good as it gets? What if you wake up every day for the rest of your life living today over again?

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)”

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.

One at a time

Can we really live life one day at a time?

 

Or do we spend life one day after another?

 

Can a singer live life one song at a time?

Can he find that one song inside him, and not deviate until he has brought it out into the world? Then soon, he’ll find another song…

 

Can a writer live life one story at a time?

Can he refrain from putting his imagination and effort to rest until he’s written that one story he’s been wanting to write? Then soon, he’ll find another story….

 

Can a Continue reading “One at a time”

We, the joke

I love what Russell Peters does. I hope that you’re the kind that loves it, too. If not, you’re probably taking life too seriously to laugh about it. Don’t.

The guy loves to talk about Indians, and though his comedy is quite harsh, it is almost never untrue. Last night was one of those nights when I needed a good laugh, so after I was home from work, I picked a couple of Russell videos to watch (no one can watch just one!) In one of the videos, he was talking about arranged marriage, a very common and complex Indian tradition, wherein he narrates that his mom once told him: I will pick you some nice girls, then you choose which one you want.

And Russell said: This is crazy! My mom wants to pick a girl for me? I don’t even let her pick my clothes!

Interesting thought. How many of us can say that about ourselves? Continue reading “We, the joke”