Tag Archives: happiness

How to lose: One event at a time

Now that I do not need a spotless suit…
Do I open my arms to the roaring clouds?

LOSE – In the end, all of life becomes a series of events where every person has lost something at every step. But, the present moment barely allows time to ponder about the things we’ve lost. Probably it is the lack of reflection that prompts us into perceiving loss as a life changing setback. As I write today, I take my time to hark back and notice what all goes by when we lose a prized possession….

Step One: You Grow out of Your Utopia

The essence of a settled and content life is setting up of boundaries. A secure person is the one who has set his boundaries and knows them well. So, a modern day utopia revolves around crossing a set road every day, passing the same order of things daily and hoping for the world to stay the same.

The loss of an element, interrupts the utopian order. And it is only then that the boundaries become a burden and the spirit awakens to a new adventure.

Step Two: You Realize the World’s Bigger

Unlike what anybody says, mathematics is the one subject where no body has ever failed. Had the counter protestations been any true, every person would have been struggling in his/her life. We conveniently add one thing to another and create a microcosmic world for ourselves.

One House + One Car + One (Large) Family + One Job = One Life

It is only when we lose any of our “one’s” that we stare in the eyes of the big, wide world which remained unexplored. From there on, all mathematics fails and boils down to one formula:

One World = One Life

Step Three: You Taste a Pinch of the Greater Good

In the bandwagon of life, one receives since another loses – How often do we remember this phrase during the course of our life, especially in the midst of our celebrations? We seldom do. It is only when the tables turn that we are able to find a consolation in the greater good which we have made possible by sharing an impending loss.

So, with regards to the question that ignited this piece – how do we tackle a loss? – my answer is only one:-

“We keep ourselves ready to shed some feathers and grow new ones”

The Radio Diaries

A sip of tea, a splash of memories on the rhythm of the radio….

Call it an incident or a chance of luck that I stumbled upon a web page which has made all of my coming February 13s remarkable…

Besides being the 24 hours before the day when is Love set free, 13th February is also the World Radio Day. An international observance day like any other, made for granting due respect and recognition to a treasure that has already become a relic. But, this Radio Day is going to be special for me, now that I know why it’s not unimportant.

So why the radio? Probably because it has been a part of so “many first” experiences of people!

From the first music to the first moment of joyful togetherness, it has been the radio which has brought people closer to one another in forms so many that they can barely be counted. It was the radio which drove steps to the music…..

Radio is the most intimate and socially personal medium in the world.  — Harry Von Zell

But as I bring out my childhood friend this 13th February, there might not be my mother’s recognisable chatter or a reminiscent composition from the Past. Rather, there would be my mother’s ageing hand on mine and a glitter of tears in our eyes as we both relive the moments burdened in heaps of memories……

The Reset Button: Can We Create One?

Taking a break from blogging was a necessary evil to find new things to feel and write about…But it isn’t always a humongous case of memorable feelings as an overwhelming emotion that brings us all to write and express…

When things come falling down upon us, our first response is lifting our hand up to seek help and lift off the weight on our chests…With no courage left to lift the weight any more, can we possibly continue to hold on while waiting for an external help? Would we give anything to reset that moment in time and prevent the weights from falling on us when we least expect it?

It is funny that while we can rewrite our realities on paper, we can seldom do that in real life. But should a “reset button” come our way, what would it do to alter our reality, especially when it connects so many others as well?

As far as I could look, I found that our reset button does not change realities as much as it changes us. With its single click, a discouraging word became a challenging provocation, a hopeless moment became an ambition full dream, and lost life became a redeemed promise of fulfillment…Interestingly, the only thing that changed was our feeling or our thought…After all, what else could change?

The Trevelyan and his Tin Heart

Once upon a time, a good many years ago, a traveller set upon a journey and this magical journey was to seem very long when it began, and very short when he got half way through it.

He travelled along a rather dark path for some little time, without meaning anything, until at last he came to a beautiful child. SO, he said to the child, “What do you do here” And the child said, “I am always at play. Come Play with me!”……  #CreativePrompt


Tired from his lonely journey, the traveller decided to enjoy the little event of company which his dark path provided, perhaps to keep him motivated. But the attire of the child was rather peculiar. It was the first time in his days on the road that the traveller saw a garb made of sack and ropes. But it wasn’t just the clothes that made the little boy different.

“What do you think, mister? Would I eat and sleep tonight or would tonight be the day for playing ‘Pretend’?”, asked the soft voice in the sack. Awoken from the perturbed and judging thoughts the traveller sat down and replied, “I fail to see how the two are related. dear friend.”

“Oh! You are lost! That’s why you are here, aren’t you? said the boy with a contempt which was unexpected of his little self. He then started arranging his little “dimes” and “nickels” in rows, as if he was indifferent to the emotional turmoil he had prompted in the traveller’s mind.

In the farther corner of the road, he erected a little wooden box upon which he placed a tin can. After being satisfied with his arrangements he said, “Let’s compete. The one who knocks the tin can from this distance becomes the winner and the loser gets to say goodbye first.”

“I can never say goodbye” though the traveller and for a moment he recalled the night he left home to travel. For in that despicable night, he had let go of himself and all that life had given to him for the fear of being an invalid burden on the ones he loved. “So, I would win” decided the hassled traveller. And the two players started to aim at the tin can dime after nickel, but only to fail.

“Won’t your parents mind you talking to a stranger, dear friend?” asked the traveller as he tried a shot.

With a placid smile on his face the failing competitor replied, “I was born to the world not to my parents. And thus, with the world I live. Yet, I keep for myself a warm and cosy house”.

“I wish I had a house too. A place to call home. But I am nowhere – life has abandoned me” said the aching spirit of the traveller as he failed to deliver his next shot.

“Funny you should say that, because in front of your open eyes the picture stands so clear. Don’t you realise life isn’t an incident but an event that occurs for you? And the aim of that good life is that tin can, whose fall is the only indication of what was earlier possessed.”

Hearing this, the traveller dawned to the uselessness of his journey. In his final chance, with shaking hands, he shot the nickel to a victory which was proclaimed by the clatter of the tin can. “Oh! I won. I won, little friend” he said with a melting voice.

“Indeed, you won” replied the little audience with a smile that spoke more than words. “And yet, I wouldn’t have to say goodbye either. For you stay in my house…”

“I don’t understand!” said the puzzled traveller.

“For you share a memory with me, you now live with me in my house. So, no matter whether you are here with me or not, we shall always share the same roof – that of the house of my heart.”

And in that moment, the traveller only saw the light at the end of his dark path and wondered as to how his tiresome journey ended in a moment of reprise.

“I shall always play with you my dear friend. That I promise!”

Saying these words, the Trevelyan picked up his tin can and glanced at the little figure waving at him. What followed was a parting that was embellished with the feeling of pain and yet secured the warmth between the embracing hearts. With his head to the front and his heart trailing behind the traveller passed silently into a memory of the worldly child’s dream.

 

Thanks for reading! Do let me know how you like my reworked extension of the creative prompt. 🙂

The Mysterious World of Idyllic “Eye”-dentities

Have you ever taken the time to look for a person’s eyes? SO much of the truth is reflected on a face, yet the little of the soul in the eyes is the real picture! Have you found the outline of this very real portrait ever?

Of all the days in the world which pass away almost as easily as they are begotten, today woke up with the same bland notoriety to me. And it wasn’t until I stole a moment to look at the beggar I found daily by the footpath, that I slipped into a “World of its own”. The glowing, expectant eyes of the man on the torn rag made me wonder about the vibrant emotions that they prompted in me. While I sensed a glimpse of happiness, I also found trails of questions, a silent request and a ghost of a smile awaiting to be found…

Could there be a more peculiar combination?

Never could I imagine that the damp black of an eye could reflect such a fusion of numerous other colors. As I rewrote that introspective moment in my mind again and again, I was astonished to find the darkness burst open with such a huge number of colors that evolved separately as I delved deeper, only to fuse with my horizons…..

Could there be a more intriguing case of enchantment?

As I traveled through the common performances of my day, the “World of Eyes” opened itself to me more and more. In the glistening charm of a child’s eyes, the excited iris’ of the street dog, and the blinding darkness of a strangers’ view – I curated every portrait with equal curiosity… Until I returned home to find myself in front of the mirror….

With the contracted pupil, outstretching iris and amazed eye, I looked in myself…

Only to find an incomplete puzzle with missing pieces…

The Elegy of a Man and Stray

Even though I have never been blessed with a four-legged friend, I felt like dedicating a word to their companionship.

In the cold, all light and grey,

The story of a man and stray.

No thing can give the warm bed

To the one left alone at birth,

Than what he gets from crumbs of bread

And a wooden, shiny hearth.

Owning just a tea shop

The Man himself is not unbound,

Family of four lovely lives

Comfort, though is not profound.

In the world all large and held,

Two lives that strangely dwelled.

Give life to each other at dawn,

And meet daily in a phantom lawn.

Thus, the bodies of godly love,

Chat under the sunshine dove.

Complement each other’s new start,

And all these talks are just in hearts.

Yet the two solitary loons

Tired of life, meet at noons.

Eat food and share with each

In a language no one can teach.

Dawn of the day soon ends,

And as dark, the moon sends

The Man begins to leave for home

His humble place, his only dome.

Funny though how he waits

In the cold that kills and shakes.

To farewell his four-legged friend

As he comes from the farther end.

Giving the crumbs the man proclaims,

“We’ll meet again” to whom he tames.

After dinner they leave again,

To end their life’s new begin.

Thus this way the two stay,

And ponder my pen as dawn’s gay.

For is it only life that lays,

The love between man and strays?

Or is it in the times of need

That men can find stray friends indeed…..