I'm On My Way

Tell everybody I'm on my way
New friends and new places to see
With blue skies ahead yes
I'm on my way
And there's nowhere else
that I'd rather be

Tell everybody I'm on my way
And I'm loving every step I take
With the sun beating down yes
I'm on my way
And I can't keep the smile off my face

'Cause there's nothing like seeing each other again
No matter what the distance between
And the stories that we tell
Will make you smile
Oh it really lifts my heart

So tell 'em all I'm on my way
New friends and new places to see
And to sleep under the stars
Who could ask for more
With the moon keeping watch over me

Not the snow, not the rain
Can change my mind
The sun will come out, wait and see
And the feeling of the wind in your face
Can lift your heart
Oh there's nowhere else I would rather be

'Cause I'm on my way now
well and truly
I'm on my way now

Tell everybody I'm on my way
And I just can't wait to be there
With blue skies ahead yes
I'm on my way
And nothing but good times to share

So tell everybody I'm on my way
And I just can't wait to be home
With the sun beating down yes
I'm on my way
And nothing but good times to show
I'm on my way


What Life Is All About

Treasure Trove Peek

What Life is All About

The last rays of the sun dance on the blue green waves, as they crash onto the shore. A soft wind blows, carrying with it thin, wispy strands of sand. The last of the seagulls fly home, their wings slicing through cotton clouds tinged with blue, reflecting the colour of the oncoming midnight sky.

Her squeals of joy are heard by many a passer-by and as they turn to see where the sound is coming from, their faces light up with a smile to see the adorable little child dancing in the creamy white foam that outlines the shore. The tumbling curls frame a chubby little face creased by a dimpled smile and the occasional shouts of, "Mommy, look," are carried way up the beach, accompanied by excited gurgles.

The chubby hands try desperately to grasp the slippery sand and the tiny cotton T-shirt, which was once a starched white, is now a musty brown. The denim shorts are in a worse state and one would think that "mommy" would definitely have a tough job getting the stains out. But the mother's face is filled with love and pride. Obviously, to see her little one almost delirious with joy is worth a ton of wash load.

Suddenly, the little one is pushing something into her mother's hands. "Look mommy," the cry is almost desperate. They both gaze at the exquisite wonder of creation in the little hand, a beautiful shell tanned brown at the edges and a soft pink on the inside. They create a picture so pretty, so filled with emotion that it would be a challenge to any artist to capture the very essence of their being on canvas. The look of contentment on the child's face as she lies in her mother's arms just about matches what the latter feels as she caresses her daughter's soft curls, not unlike her own.

Then, hand in hand, they stroll up towards the dunes, away from their favourite haunt, away from the peace and serenity of it all and back to the world of reality. There exists a bond so deep that nothing or no one could possibly shatter this precious time they share together. But who knows what lies ahead?

This is what we tend to forget as we race forward in our egocentric lives. We tend to forget what is really important and what truly counts when all we have to do is stop and look around us. We will realise that what matters the most is right there, within arm's reach. It's there all around us. We have to remember that it's important and if we don't take good care of it, we may lose it sooner than we could imagine.

Lauren Lopes


The judge drops his gavel down hard.
Silence stands proof to the shock of the moment.
A silence, shattered only by the fall of a long forgotten glass frame hanging on the wall;
A silence, filled with the sudden outpour of old worn-out papers flying out as if eager to reveal a mystery..
Seems like the Universe dropped its gavel too.

The Symphonial Trilogy

I don't like thinking of things I'd dare not write about
I don't like writing things I'd dare not act upon
I don't like doing things I'd dare not think about

But it so happens at times,
that a persistent thought dares me to act it out
that a persistent word dares me to think it over
that a persistent act dares me to write it away

It's like a Symphonial Trilogy
Of thought, word, deed
Stimuli, Response, Completion
Action, Reaction, Explosion
Trigger, Process, Climax
Body, Mind, Soul
Conscious, Subconscious, Unconscious
Brahma, Vishnu, Mahesh
Creation, Operation, Destruction

It's ironical how comfortable we find ourselves being just one of the three
How hard we try to keep them separate for fear of losing sense
While all the three streams of melody are naturally gravitating into a single stream of the Song of the Universe
A single stream that is all and that is truly you

Do you hear the symphonial trilogies?
Are you letting them play the music of the Universe through you?
They try to talk to you through instinct and hunches
And when you let the impulses guide you
Your life becomes a Symphonial Trilogy of Joy and Mischief, Love and Respect, Honesty and Truth

It's funny how our tendency to define and label leaves us confined and frustrated
But that too is maybe just a stimuli for breaking free in disguise of apparent constriction?
The point is not being one or being all is it?
The point is to continue flowing this way or that, breaking the self-constructed dams of illusion
The point is to stop yourself from stopping the melodies from playing naturally
To soak in the moments of ecstatic pause among the chaos
Until a point when you end up becoming the Song of Ecstasy...?
What then?
Flow endlessly?
Or start again?
Does the trilogy ever rest?
After long continual making, pausing, breaking over ages unknown;
Don't the symphonies find you faster, like the exponential graph over time
It surely must end with a shooting up through space...
To where?
I wonder...

Or probably like Gandalf and Balrog who fell through the dark pit only to crash-land into another world
Shooting up through sky, will we shoot up through the land of another world?

There's Black, White and Grey too
But I already know the way out of that one!
Rainbow! How silly of me to forget!
There ain't no wonderless wondering in the Rainbow land!
Only a wonderful wondering stream of Septology!
Now isn't that a Sound richer than the Trilogy?

Love and Time

Treasure Trove Peek

Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all constructed boats and left. Except for Love.

Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment. When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help.

Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said, "Richness, can you take me with you?" Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you."

Love decided to ask vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. "Vanity, please help me!"
"I can't help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat," Vanity answered.

Sadness was close by so Love asked, "Sadness, let me go with you."
"Oh... Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!"

Happiness passed by Love, too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her.

Suddenly, there was a voice, "Come, Love, I will take you." It was an elder. So blessed and overjoyed, Love even forgot to ask the elder where they were going.
When they arrived at dry land, the elder went her own way.

Realising how much Love owed the elder, Love asked Knowledge, "Who Helped me?"
"It was Time," Knowledge answered.
"Time?" asked Love. "But why did Time help me?"
Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, "Because only Time is capable of understanding how valuable Love is."

If I don't like it

If I don't like it,
'it' being anything I am told, especially if it is a scold

There are two options:
If I don't know the person, it wouldn't matter
But if I know the person,

 There are two options:
 If I don't know the person personally, it wouldn't matter
 But if I know the person personally,

  There are two options:
  If I know that they won't listen, it wouldn't matter
  But if I know that they will listen,

   There are two options:
   If I know that they don't know me as I am, it wouldn't matter
   But if I know that they know me for who I am,

    I'd tell them unabashedly with a calm dignity and a mischievous smile- I didn't like it.
    'It wouldn't matter' for the others cos I'd know it came from a limited vision,
    With this awareness:

   I'll tell them so too, who wouldn't care to know me for who I am; but they might throw a label again
  I'll tell them so too, who wouldn't listen; but they wouldn't understand and neither might they bother
 I'll tell them so too, who I don't know personally; but they'd miss the point and might call me names
I'll tell them so too, who I don't know at all; but they might throw a hundred more 'it's to not like.
Yet I'll them so because I'd know where they come from and thus wouldn't let it matter anyway.
Yes I'll tell them so because I'd like to help them through in expanding their horizons,
What else is there to do anyway?

All in all, the matter will end there itself without any matter,
no matter who it is and I'll be my cheerful self again.

If I love the person for who they are, there won't be a matter to lose heart over,
The matter of not liking itself wouldn't arise cos I'd be busy listening to start over.

So, that's how the matter of the moment would dissolve,
or in rare precious cases transform into a clue for a resolve.
That's how a reaction would transform making scope for creative action.
And that's how I won't let a mere reaction trouble me over inaction.

The Tapestry of Life

Excerpt from The Rose and The Yew Tree:

Teresa went on, 'You will insist on making your own design for life, Hugh, and trying to fit other people into it. But they've got their own design. Everyone has got their own design - that's what makes life so confusing. Because the designs are interlaced - superimposed.'

Here, I'd like to share with you a story, another treasure from the trove! :
(What's this treasure trove I speak of?

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package.
"What food might this contain?" the mouse thought. He was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap. Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning. "A mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, " Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it." The mouse turned to the goat and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house."
The goat sympathised, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."
The mouse turned to the cow. She said, "Wow, Mr Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."
So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house - like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey. The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught. The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever.
Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient. But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbours came to sit with her around the clock.
To feed them, the farmer butchered the goat for mutton. The farmer's wife did not get well; she died.
So many people came for her funeral the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.

So, the next time someone is facing a problem and you think it doesn't concern you, remember - when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another. Each of us is a vital thread in another person's tapestry. Our lives are woven together for a reason.

Source: A newspaper from long ago. Since the Universe knows exactly where it came from and who wrote it: Dear universe, relay my heartiest wishes and gratitude to where this story comes from.

I'd like to end this post (and begin your musings) with a song from my favorite singer song-writer Don Mclean (click the link below):

That Unique Pot

One fine day I picked up a nice, different looking small earthenware pot from a lady sitting by the road. It really stood out among the rest and on impulse I decided to take it home.

Very happy with my choice, I showed it off upon reaching home, to my mom. Imagine my disappointment with her reaction when she said that this kinda pot is generally used to carry a dead one's ashes...it was inauspicious! (I think she even feared for my dad who was away working in another land without his family by his side.)
Well, I still liked the pot! But, she with her beliefs couldn't let it stay eh?

So well, until that fateful day, it was just lying on edge outside the window, passing days watching the changing weather until my mom in the guise of Diwali cleaning picked it up again and started asking me what to do with it. I was on a call and observed a few deep cracks along the pot base. Before I could say anything, taking advantage of my diverted attention, she went on ahead and banged it (on purpose?) on the bathroom floor- Just enough for the cracks to widen and break it into pieces and very innocently she shows the broken pot to me saying without regret- It broke. Something else broke too.

She happily went and dumped the remains in the bin, glad that finally the bad omen that was 'causing all the trouble' has left. I could imagine all this while, a scene (for a future movie) where during her daily chores when she spots the pot each day, everything goes slow motion and dark with her mind conjuring all sorts of wicked trouble that it would cause while giving the poor pot menacing looks, who could never understand why this lady hated it so much.

I wish I could tell that lovely pot, it wasn't him; it was my mom and that he needn't take it on himself.
I wish I could tell him that she was the victim of her own thoughts and beliefs which had nothing to do with him personally.
I wish I would have disconnected the call and been more alert to the sense of urgency of that moment!
Alas! Guess it is for the best- At least now I know how important it is to be in the moment, alert and conscious; and that everything else distracting one from the immediate surroundings, can wait.


Hiding out watching the proceeding in stealth
He and me cower behind the wall peeping now and again
You sure don't want them to find you out spyin' em all
Jingles are streaming from within the homely house
The bears are busy preparing for some celebration
It feels Christmasy
And here I am struggling to paint the eyebrow with chocolate
His? Mine? Whose? I don't know; as if the eyebrow was a character in itself!
With a sense of urgency, fly the brush strokes
This way and that way and every which way
And yet it doesn't seem to work, just the way it should be, so it feels just right!
"HELLO THERE!" calls out a voice startling me out of my wits
I wasn't supposed to get caught!
I look up and I see Mama bear looking at me straight in the eye
I stand stumped
They aren't supposed to be smiling at intruders!
It wasn't supposed to be this way, or so I was told...
I see her smiling at me as if she was glad she found me!
What was there to be scared of? I wonder why they told me so...
In a clear crisp jolly tone, she said, "My name is Sunset!"
"My man there, he is called Sunrise!
I am waking up and I hear her call out loud
"Don't forget (dear?) Myyyy naaaame iiiiis Sunseeeeet!"
I remember thinking, no wonder she is so pink
I wake up smiling and wondering which magical world I just came from?
Why did I go there in the first place?
Mama bear's call- Was it a plea of sorts?
I wish I was allowed to go back there
I wish I could join them as a guest
I wish Mama bear and I could have a looooong chat
I wish she told me more of her story!
She seemed quite enthusiastic to meet me!
She was looking straight at me I tell you!
As if she knew where I came from
As if she knew I was travelling in a dream
Her straight piercing look I guess pierced through my dream and broke the link...
I know I'll meet her again when she'll think I'm ready to
If you're listening Mama bear, I'm here! Come find me!
And who was with me anyway?
I thought twas my grand-dad, like Gandalf or Tolkien?
Or is that wishful thinking?
And now I'm not sure at all if it even was an old man after all.
Has anyone else here met Sunset? Or Sunrise?
I'd love to hear from you!

O You Ball of Fire

I remember that time when you went all red and sneakily peeped out of hiding now and then enticing me to play hide and seek with you
I remember that time during the lecture when I was almost nodding off to sleep when you suddenly appeared and jerked me awake with your bright array leaving me agape and disappeared with a devious chuckle
I remember that time when you sneaked through the hidden slit between the curtains watching me asleep and woke me up with your presence in a blush
I notice the times when you play with the soft-spoken drifting kids that come alive in your presence creating a dance of light and shadow
I notice the times when you bring out the rainbow from among the apparent gloom just when it seems the world would drown in tears
I notice the times when you are being over-shadowed by your friends and foes alike, only to return with an ever more dazzling presence
I notice you when your brilliance shines upon the world and the world rejoices in the various shifting shades you cast upon it creating a magic like no other
I remember each of those fleeting unregistered moments when I watched you and yet didn't see you, when I felt you watching me and even yet didn't see you
I see you now
You Ball of Fire!
Shining on the whole world without any tire
Surely it's you I talk about here and admire
If you are listening as I'm sure you are,
Just remember me:
That I truly appreciate your existence and your entire being
If ever you feel even a bit unworthy or even a bit unimportant,
Just remember that I am here:
I'll be there to remind you,
I'll be there to show you,
Just how beautiful you truly are!
I don't lie.
I speak the truth.
Trust me.
Trust yourself.

Where Does All the Shit Go?

Have you ever wondered as to where does all the shit really really go?
I'm not here to answer that question but to share an amusing story that my mom happened to mention when we were discussing this confusticating question.
Caution: Shit alert. Don't tell me I didn't warn you. You'd prefer not to be eating anything while reading this.

Now, you may be wondering how the heck we ended up even discussing this? Here's the prelude: So, we have these really stinky full-of-filth and garbage nallah(s) [Don't go by the original definition. Here for the city folks it means- Run as far from it as possible] running all across in the city(Mumbai in case you are wondering). Nallahs have always been quite intriguing for me [I even ended up with a group project in 1st yr based on it ha!] I think it's very unfair the way they are treated. On the one hand they are the lifelines for the city and ya- the slums lining them (just like the early civilisations coming up near rivers eh?) and on the other, they never really were meant to become filthy gutters! They originally were rivulets of fresh water-In fact they begin their journey from the mountains too all fresh and sparkling! It's tragic that they end up as gutters into the oceans. Ironically, it's us only who dirty it, dumping garbage and sewage into it and then complain like silly dumb asses that it's so filthy. BIGGEST CRINGE at this ignorant immature behaviour that worsens the condition by making the nullah feel ugly while it actually is born and meant to be beautiful!
What if we chose to take responsibility to maintain that pure fresh state of the river and be careful not to overload it with more than it can naturally take? Wouldn't the city be more vibrant and paradisical?

As usual I can't help but compare the tragedy of the nallah with that of people.
We were all born into this world all fresh and sparkling. As the journey continues, we throw garbage at each other and poison each other with filth and then like silly ignorant and immature dumb asses complain and cringe at each other's filthy state and worsen the condition. We make each other feel ugly to hide our own faults while in actuality we all are innately beautiful! What a sickening irony.
What if we chose to take responsibility to help maintain that innately pure state we all are meant to be and were sensitive and careful not to overload each other with more than we can naturally take? Wouldn't the world be more vibrant and paradisical?

Anyway, I needed to know how shit was managed before- who better than dear mommy with experience from the previous generation? (Oh I must say, her life has been so full of adventure-lots n lots of amazing stories and still digging. You could chat up with the elders in your family to glimpse the treasures they have gleaned- Nothing better than sharing the real-life experiences of inspiration and wonder!)

Here, I'll give you an idea of the setting, so you can imagine the scene and the characters as to where they come from:

So, our native is Kutch, pretty much a desert but a wonderful place in Gujarat; taking baby steps into 'development' thanks to the 2001 Earthquake that brought the spotlight there. (Gotta do something-Can't let it make the same mistakes being made everywhere-that'll be a lifetime study and work I guess)
My mom grew up in a humble family in Anjar, a town in a time when for them, electricity was a luxury. There is this system of phariyas (areas) in Kutch; each with its own set of community facilities and idiosyncracies. She along with her grandma, parents, 3 brothers and 2 sisters lived in the Gandhi phariya in a rented deli [a typology of a house with a wooden gate in a high wall along the street that opens into an angna(courtyard-open space) with the rooms at the back.] Guess the rent? Per month, twas Re. 1 in her grandma's time, increased to Rs. 6 and then Rs. 9 over time and finally her elder brother increased it to Rs. 20 when the landlady was widowed- She had three sons to take care of after all and by that time they were better off.

There were 40 houses in this phariya and she said there were only about 6-7 families who weren't that well-off, they being one of them. Her dad rolled bidis each day for a job and also made yummy chikis occasionally which my mom used to go selling that included amusing incidents of either cows or naughty boys making it difficult for her, leaving her fuming and cursing. Her mom and her elder sister used to do house-cleaning work for a few better-off families, with my mom managing the household while earning a few bucks at another house too. Oh and the girls in the phariya all used to gather in the evenings and separate cotton from the pods, carrying the material back and forth on their heads from faraway places. You should see the glow on her face when she is recalling her childhood days so full of fun and carefree spirit in spite of not being financially well-off, as she likes pointing out every time she gets an opportunity. You should listen to how she talks with pride shining in her eyes about how the girls got together and managed the festivals and kept fasts and organised Navaratri in their phariya with her even pitching in to sing occasionally! She earned her own money and her dad also gave a little each day for spending apart from getting some goodies(sweets or chocolates or snacks) each evening for the family. She loved buying bangles and clothes for herself- She is quite girly(unlike me) and loved dressing up and shopping for herself, and still does!

Now, they didn't have an attached toilet like most of the other houses. She says they had these open-to-sky areas for the community called vaadaas set out for No. 2 (alright defecating); where the shit exposed to the glaring sunlight just dried up and was cleared away regularly by the bhangiyaanis (a caste treated as untouchables that did all the cleaning- It's unfair that they are considered untouchables, they do the most important task, don't they?). Their phariya had a vaadaa for the ladies. Some other one far away had one for gents. When she was about 6-7 years old, water pipeline supply came into the town and to the homes that could afford the cost of installation. My mom said they too wanted to get the supply home when they were better off, thanks to the elder brother taking charge but the landlady wouldn't allow. Anyway they left that place much later. Until the pipeline arrived, the ladies filled water from the taps constructed at certain places far away that drew water from wells- It was a common sight (and still is in the interiors) of ladies with matkas on their heads and hips walking great distances for water. Oh and they washed their clothes at the lake.

With the water supply, in time came the drainage facility too. The vaadaas now had these toilet structures built- individual and common; with 2-3 steps leading up to the cubicle at a higher level with a box beneath that acted like a septic tank with a door so the bhangiyaanis could clear it away regularly. There was a big tank too covered carelessly with iron sheets, that gathered the waste from the common areas. Mom said these places used to stink a lot because the ladies carried only enough water with them and barely did they bother or even have enough water to wash down the loos properly. No wonder- contrast this horrible condition with the natural drying up of faeces exposed to Sun. Thankfully for her as she grew up, she went to Shanta Fui's house for the necessary rituals. (Shanta Fui has 9 sons and 1 daughter, who is a good friend of my mom) She's not really her Fui (as one calls ones dad's sister) but called her so as she was very patronizing towards my mom. My mom makes it a point to visit her each time we go there.

All set; now I'll tell you the amusing story I mentioned in the beginning in case you forgot.

So, there was this girl, daughter of a well-off family and this is her story. Once there was a big wedding in their phariya and that day, she with a friend went to the vaadaa since her house was far and God knows how (brace yourself!) fell into that big tank of poop (Ewwwww) Yes...the one with the iron shutters carelessly covering the top. While her friend ran for help, she sank deeper into shit with only her hand showing in all the shit. Thankfully, one lady from the harijan caste (another caste considered to be the untouchables by some) saw that hand popping out and pulled her out of that shit. Phew! Her mom arrived and washed her off profusely and the girl was taken to the hospital just in time as the doctor declared her safely alive and well. I hope that lady who pulled her out was in some way recognized or rewarded for this kind feat. I hope this even shone a light on the hypocritical irony of the concept of untouchability. (I'd recommend you to read Untouchable by Mulk Raj Anand, an important book set in the time of Independence.)

Now(this is my favorite part) guess what her mom told her after she returned from the whole ordeal? She told her that she must have done some sins that she had to actually go through hell in life itself! (Actually she was known to be quite haughty especially the way she treated other girls and never failed to throw taunts at my mom.) Now, which mother would have the presence of mind (or even guts?) to say such a thing to her own daughter after she went through such a mess? It seems that after the incident, the girl literally transformed and changed her ways. In fact she and my mom became good friends too!

One thing is for sure,
If there is a hell, it is right here
If there is a heaven, it is right here
If there is a paradise, it can be right here.
What do you choose for yourself?
And are you ready to take responsibility for that choice-
Are you willing to do your bit for the vision You hold?

Are You Willing?

Somewhere in there,
Everyone has dreams.
Everyone has a vision.

What is your vision?
What are your dreams?

And you know what?
The least and the most that you can do is:
Watch yourself.
Everything else will fall in place.

Are you willing to see the Magic you are immersed in?
The Magic that you are made up of?

You become what you imagine
You become what you dream
You become what you think

What do you wish to become?

The Water of Love

Dad: Did you water the plants yesterday?

Me: Of course YES!
(As if challenging my surety, I uncomfortably remember that in the hurry of leaving home, I'd actually forgotten to water 2 of them! Yikes!)

I immediately went off to the window with my heart beating fast hoping they are fine but am held deeply by the sight of the drooping dying leaves of one! Aloe was sturdier and managed through the H2O miss but this one...
I immediately apologise profusely to the plant while also resolving to water it daily without fail and spring to action by watering it in the hope that it will revive as if the strong yearning for it to be alright will cause it to magically transform into its healthy self again right in front of my eyes- Of course that happens only in cartoons...

Of course it didn't grow healthy instantly and I got on with other work while constantly praying for the greeny! I wasn't surprised to see in the evening that it had indeed revived and looked happy too! I thanked it a million times because it revived my faith too! Yay!

I couldn't help but draw comparison with the way we humans behave too!

We are all little plants taking care of each other with the water of love! Some of us are sturdier and manage to go without it for longer(perhaps with experience over time hardening us a bit forming a shell strong on the outside but still supple and glowing on the inside) as compared to others who find it difficult and if ignored for long, we risk losing out on the flowers and fruits that plant would bear if showered with love! So, go around sharing your fruits, sprinkling the water of love all around and see how the world blossoms with mind blowing colours shining from every particle in existence setting the Universe aglow!


Nothing to Prove, Only gotta Listen
Nothing to Approve, Only gotta Unfurl
Nothing to Improve, Only gotta Grasp
Nothing to Reprove, Only gotta See
Nothing to Hide, Only gotta Reveal
Nothing to Fear, Only gotta Face Up
Nothing to Complain, Only gotta Understand
Nothing to Expect, Only gotta Explore
Nothing to Worry, Only gotta Trust
Nothing to Judge, Only gotta Observe
Nothing to Fight, Only gotta Open up
Nothing to Blame, Only gotta Accept
Nothing to Impose, Only gotta Let Be

Kindly contribute a few of your own in the comments section. Thank you!
To know more about where this comes from, check previous post.

I'm Living. Thank you. How about You?

D: So! what have you been doing these days?

(A pause. At a loss of words to describe the nothingness so full of somethingness)

Me: Living!

(A surprised look on D's face. No wonder because I'm surprised too, just hoping he wouldn't ask for an explanation-How could I possibly explain?)

D: So... what had you been doing before that?

Me(immediately with a beaming look): Dying!

(An incredulous look on D's face and he lets me be probably thinking I've gone mad; not that he wasn't suspicious anyway. Phew! At least he spared me from further questions thus sparing himself from a needlessly long incoherent attempt at an answer. God bless him with wondrous happenings on Earth!)

And I continue pondering over the hidden truth of these simple words that escaped from the knot of everythingness that surprisingly very succinctly explained the inexplicable situation!

Only today, a few moments ago did I recall the above magical happening;
After a failed (not really else how'd I have known?) sibling tete-a-tete attempt (mind you just an attempt) left me with the residues of:

Anxiety troubling me (Really this one is so pointless that it can be killed just by the question Now what?)
Trying-too-hard draining me (whoever said "try try until you succeed" never knew the idea of Letting Be)
Explaining my case losing me (The most tiring of all, easily killed by the question- So What?)

I plainly see the symptoms of dying that ATE up the living!

NOW I think I know what it means to be actually:


Nothing to Prove.   
Only a Listening!
Nothing to Approve.
Only an Unfurling!
Nothing to Improve.
Only a Grasping!
Nothing to Reprove.
Only a Seeing!

Just Remember: Don't let the PAIRs EAT away the LUGS of LIVING!

Live On dear Friend!

PS: I invite you to drop in your own addition to the PAIR LUGS!
All you've gotta do is reflect on the problematic areas in your life that you feel are draining you- Put on your detective robe and dig out your intention for that part of your life and then just transform it into something positive!

(You see, the Universe is what it is. It is the way WE see and perceive things that reflects in our lives. So if something doesn't seem fine in your life, you've only gotta transform your view of it by putting things in perspective.

A very simple example: The Wind. It is very recently (considering the 22 years on Earth I've been here) that I've actually started getting conscious of it's presence. Every time a gush comes in or a breeze goes past me- I feel as if the Wind's saying hello to me! Magic eh? But the magic, i.e. the Wind has been here all along since centuries! It's only ME that has started noticing it now! The same goes for the stars, the moon, the birds, the greenies... Though, Sun and clouds have kinda always been around for me.... Jeez. I'll stop.

So what is negative? Universe is one right? So, anything that goes against this natural oneness ends up causing trouble...The best way is to always treat others(living and non-living: There's life in everything. Everything's so Alive!) the way you'd wish to be treated yourself. So if there's something you are doing or thinking that you wouldn't want someone else to be wishing the same for you: Bingo! That's your area of work right there! Life's all about opening up eh?!)

Hey, I just got one!
Nothing to Hide; Only a Revealing.
(haha! Treasure Hunt!)

Drop in a glimpse of yer treasure! I'm listening!

The Weave, As if key to a hidden world

A bearded man with contorted lopsided features,
As if just woken from a drunken stupor
A pointy-nosed sharp-featured woman, eyes closed, lips twirling into a smile,
As if lost in a dreamed moment of bliss
A bushy eyebrowed young boy turning away guilt-ridden,
As if afraid he's seen something he shouldn't have
A slant-eyed fox grinning and looking upon the boy,
As if with sly understanding
A big nosed onlooker with widely-spaced eyes sympathising,
As if he's almost upon a decision on whether to help or not

Beneath them all,
Alerted penguins of all builds- fattest to thinnest, all spaced out,
As if to cover the ground well

Digging further below, through the heavy crusty earth,
A pointy-nosed, pointy-jawed sharp-featured lady looking suspicious(perhaps her mother?)
As if she smells something foul
An emaciated single-toothed ball-faced 'thing' maliciously telling a secret,
As if it's the most enjoyable thing to do
An amused tiger giving full heed and listening with all intent,
As if it's just for fun with no real consequence for him
An angry fluffed up pointy-beaked bird reproaching them,
As if demanding quiet for the trail of birdlings following behind

Beneath a few more incomprehensible layers of landscape of silent turmoil,
A great number of owls bunching together like you've never seen before,
As if gathering all their wisdom to tackle the sense of urgency in the air
A funny-hatted jolly looking man posing with a smart-hatted stupid looking dog,
As if they didn't see anything
Right below them mirroring a striking contrast,
A stupid looking man with no hat posing with a smart looking dog with no hat but an intelligent eye,
As if he sees everything.
(Even me!)

Rushing further below through the tapestry of the confused unknown,
A bench of ministers aligned in such a worsening order of cleverly posed faces,
As if gradually getting aware of their own dumbness with the increasing feeling of helplessness.

Beneath it all occupying great spaces,
Generic empty designs with no meaning,
As if filling up the meaningfully empty space for no reason.

The atmosphere of this weave reminded of the one called My Name is Red, woven by Orhan Pamuk.
I wonder...
What story do these faces belong to?
Where do they come from?
What happens next?
Who are these characters frozen in these peculiarly striking moments in this weave?

I'll tell you what's more striking:
They immediately disappear into the dense wild texture the moment I shift my gaze,
As if there's only one angle to grasp their tale,
As if that particular angle was the only portal into their world, in that particular moment.
As if it was the only chance glimpse that I could afford, Or
As if it was the only glimpse that they could afford me to have?
I wonder...

At the Gate

Ready for more magic?

Yeeahh! Brrrrrrring it on!

A loving embrace and we shoot up through the sky leaving a dazzling trail so bright and wide such as never seen before; coming to rest into a rainbowical star that gleams in the night and glows in the morning white!


Ok, so this is something that's been doing rounds in me and poured out a few days ago. I'm sharing this now because I just found this really awesome kindred spirit(or she found me? I'd liked her song "Not As We" then but now I'm back and here to stay!) who reminded me of these splutterings that wane in front of her crisply clear lines!

The moment I say something, something else comes along challenging that statement. If I say I'll do this, I never get around to doing it, as if just the saying of it killed it or got done with.
If I say I won't do something, somehow circumstances force me into that and I see how baseless my statement of not doing it was.
It's as if the Universe is just waiting to pounce on every assumption and statement I'm making as if trying to say how limited it is!
Indeed it is as I look at the journey so far! Now, I feel like I've arrived on an edge from where I can see everything- this side and the other side and I see how pointless and limited it is being on one side. Maybe I don't belong anywhere specific except perhaps the edge where I can see nothing yet everything.
I do feel at home while on the move and I get restless eventually if I linger at a place too long. Unless that place is transforming too!

Alanis sums it up just tooooo well:
If I arrive at some concretized version of what I'm investigating (aka: an answer" a theory" a chart"!), I giggle and move to crack it and dissolve it. These days, the whole process of my life involves defining things, crystallizing and distilling them, then letting even that go. And then letting even this concept of letting that go, go.


So, dearest Universe, I'm glad that you are right here- out to break me free from me-to drive away all the illusumptions(illusionistic assumptions in case you are wondering where that came from) that limit the limitless possibilities I can be; transforming each moment into a gift that are opening more and more doors and windows left and right and around. I'm loving it! Bring it on!

The Present of Presence

Staring out the window with quiet all around
A gush of wind comes in full-face with cool breezes abound
Making the little white flower growing away, turn around
As if imploring me to accept this gift before it fell to the ground
I thank you O dear Wind for this present of presence
And of course accept the gift of Nature's essence!
With the little white flower now adorning my mane
And the Wind blowing through it now and again
I swing along to the tunes of imaginary rain
And rejoice in the wonders that gleam in the solitude of pain