When I look outside my window...I see it raining in the sea. My face brightens, just when the sky darkens. The dark clouds gather far beyond the horizon and it slowly moves forward...like an African American model sashaying across the ramp. With her long legs deliberately and sensually , one, put in front of the other. Left and right. Left and right. Pitter- patter. Pitter- patter. A slight jig. Somewhere the music dances with her movement, not the other way....From afar her blue dress caresses the floor and then bounces off and swishes when she stops and takes a swift turn and glances at you in the centre. Her body turns away from you while her eyes still holds your stare. And she turns her head away almost reluctantly...and walks away, making way for the other raven beauty...
As much as I curse the rains when it finally arrives, there is nothing more romantic than the monsoons. Inconveniencing my daily routine, the lover (the rain) has arrived, nonchalantly, arrogantly, unapologetically at my door. You smile within. Can I imagine the clouds not gathering in the sky, as it hides the sun and my entire universe takes on a pale indigo hue? I smile and wink at the gloom for it does lighten my mundane existence. The habit of routine is broken, I need to change everything. I am forgiving for the break in my practice. I Wonder how my life would’ve been, if not for this visit, how mysterious, the plain and the simple looks now, as the atmosphere so pregnant with rain in its belly, waiting to wet me with its showers. When the rain reaches my vista...I run to my window stretch out my hands to capture the first shower....like satin it caresses my skin. I step outside, like a reluctant, shy, wanting bride...the cool breeze and I gasp. Then the spray. And then the torrent. The thunder and then the lightening...what a ruckus, chaos, madness....but such beautiful method to it all....teasing you, egging you forward and you feel so dangerously alive. Livid but nevertheless alive!
Next time I see my son dancing in the rain, I will tell him, “dance, dance all you want...for when you grow up, this becomes an indulgence and you become the mad one for wanting to court the downpour of God’s apparent blessing.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Memoir Of a ‘Wannabe’
I had the audacity to call myself a writer. The other day some people asked me an innocent question... “What do you do?” They asked. “I am a writer”, cringing within, because I couldn’t remember the last honest piece of anything even closely resembling ‘ literary,’ I had written. Hopefully they would stop with this line of questioning...I prayed. Smiling bravely I remained with the company, eager that their attention would now turn to the delicious meal we were having.
“What do you write?” they probed...
“Well! I write anything and everything.” That was vague enough. They would probably stop asking now. I thought. Intrigued they might move on and talk among themselves, “what an interesting person she is” they might say...I dreamed.
“Oh interesting!” They all said. By about now, their expressions were of serious awe...Encouraged... I continued.... “I write profiles for companies, people and services”... I should’ve stopped there, but pride got the better of me. There is nothing more seductive than attention of a crowd of people with every eye focused at you...”I write content for websites”....
“Oh!”
“You’re a copy writer...is it?”
“...aha!”
“You write brochures and pamphlets isn’t it?”
“Well! That too”...I said sheepishly. Feeling rather exposed. So much for referring to myself as a writer. I was losing ground. They were losing interest. Sniggering they started dispersing. Like a defiant drowning man gasping for air..... “I am a content writer”...but by then there was hardly anybody listening to me...
The appeal had clearly vanished. All their attention was now directed at the food, where it belonged right from the start. And I for one was forgotten and pushed to the oblivion.
But I didn’t really give up. To save the honour of every copy writer on planet Earth I bidded time...for some serious damage control.
“I should’ve just said I am a blogger...damn!”
“What do you write?” they probed...
“Well! I write anything and everything.” That was vague enough. They would probably stop asking now. I thought. Intrigued they might move on and talk among themselves, “what an interesting person she is” they might say...I dreamed.
“Oh interesting!” They all said. By about now, their expressions were of serious awe...Encouraged... I continued.... “I write profiles for companies, people and services”... I should’ve stopped there, but pride got the better of me. There is nothing more seductive than attention of a crowd of people with every eye focused at you...”I write content for websites”....
“Oh!”
“You’re a copy writer...is it?”
“...aha!”
“You write brochures and pamphlets isn’t it?”
“Well! That too”...I said sheepishly. Feeling rather exposed. So much for referring to myself as a writer. I was losing ground. They were losing interest. Sniggering they started dispersing. Like a defiant drowning man gasping for air..... “I am a content writer”...but by then there was hardly anybody listening to me...
The appeal had clearly vanished. All their attention was now directed at the food, where it belonged right from the start. And I for one was forgotten and pushed to the oblivion.
But I didn’t really give up. To save the honour of every copy writer on planet Earth I bidded time...for some serious damage control.
“I should’ve just said I am a blogger...damn!”
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Soul Cafe
"cantare amantis est... Singing belongs to one who loves" Music brewed for the soul. All are invited to Soul Cafe. 29th Of June, 6:00pm-8:00pm Avenue Centre, Panampilly Nagar. Ernakulam.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Writing is a balm
To be able to write is an act of mercy God bestows on us. For some days now i have been able to write...grace was overflowing. And grace often took the form of special people and tiny inspirations. One day it was an SMS on my mobile early in the morning. Another day it was a good laugh with a friend over the phone. Still another day it was a sad moment. Tonight it was a late night realisation that life is a gift...that beckons me at this odd hour to write.
(I can never claim to be a good writer. For that matter not even a thinker.But i wish to believe that some good can come out of me as well. After all God did create me.And for some crazy reason i have chosen this path of writing.)
The gift of life, always leads us into varied experiences. Tonight I experience excruciating pain in my soul.But for some unknown reason, the pain is accompanied by a balm. The balm being: By making a choice, i just might have let the bird free...., I might have just saved a life...I just might have returned to someone what was never mine.
And being able to write about it is like a balm that soothes my insides. Therefore tonight i have decided to smile at my pain and accept it. There is no conflict here. Just sheer joy of writing about my excruciating pain.
While Christ experienced pain knowing he was to die this terrible death, the conviction that His death can save mankind must've floated like fragrance among the rocks of Gathesmane.
(I can never claim to be a good writer. For that matter not even a thinker.But i wish to believe that some good can come out of me as well. After all God did create me.And for some crazy reason i have chosen this path of writing.)
The gift of life, always leads us into varied experiences. Tonight I experience excruciating pain in my soul.But for some unknown reason, the pain is accompanied by a balm. The balm being: By making a choice, i just might have let the bird free...., I might have just saved a life...I just might have returned to someone what was never mine.
And being able to write about it is like a balm that soothes my insides. Therefore tonight i have decided to smile at my pain and accept it. There is no conflict here. Just sheer joy of writing about my excruciating pain.
While Christ experienced pain knowing he was to die this terrible death, the conviction that His death can save mankind must've floated like fragrance among the rocks of Gathesmane.
What a world!
The world we live in is construed as such a bad place so often. The times we live in even worse. Have you noticed there is hardly any cheering good news in the papers these days? I don’t know if it’s because good news doesn’t sell papers...now that’s a whole different issue....altogether. Even if it means bad news sells, it does expose the morbid psych of the society. Our children grow up to believe that optimism, good cheer and beauty are merely illusions. Fantasies we weave. They truly believe that pragmatism means to be dark, cynical and calculating. That life is really a string of deceptions and there is nothing in the world that is for real. You start with the myth of Santa Claus. Prince and Princess living happily ever after are just fairy tales. Teachers are not really interested in you just their pay cheque. The discovery does not stop there. Then they grow up to realise success is all about knowing the right people and nothing to do with your talent. And that money buys everything. Even when the best things in life come free, you would rather pay for it. Like, you would prefer to pay a fat dowry and get married than fall in love and marry soul mates.
No wonder children laugh a lot less now. No wonder they rather watch Power Rangers than listen to Snow White and the seven dwarfs. They are born prematurely wise. They already know there are no roses, just guns. They know that there are no smiles just smirks. They know that are is no childhood just hopeless adult life.
Pity, don’t you think? We adults have sketched such a sorry image.
No wonder children laugh a lot less now. No wonder they rather watch Power Rangers than listen to Snow White and the seven dwarfs. They are born prematurely wise. They already know there are no roses, just guns. They know that there are no smiles just smirks. They know that are is no childhood just hopeless adult life.
Pity, don’t you think? We adults have sketched such a sorry image.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Love in Action
In my last post I pondered about love....but today I know what it is.
Maybe someday I will acquire the skill to write about it. But today I am humbled, overwhelmed, teary eyed most of all, finally at peace. For today I understood what it is to love and be loved. Today I know that it is humanly possible. Today i know that when Jesus died on the cross and said it was for love, and you can too..He meant it. Because today I saw somebody dying so that the one he loves can live. So fortunate for her to be loved like that. For fortunate for us, for Christ loves us thus. So fortunate for me that I understood finally what it means to love.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
If love makes the world go round, what could it be?
I was sitting with friends for a brainstorming of a website the other day as usual in between business, everyday- life- conversations seeped in. And my friend, an elderly lady, was talking about someone whom she had a problem with. Her voice filled with emotion blurted out suddenly, “I shall love her, but don’t ask me to like her.” For a moment I thought the statement was absurd. But after giving it some thought, I was struck by its depth......
Love is a much misunderstood concept, I realised. But the Greek philosophers and the post reformation theologist say that there are different kinds of love.....But, now I don’t wish delve into those high thinking. I just want to try and understand this concept like a regular person.
What is love? Is love a feeling? An emotion? An expression? A person? A thing? Perhaps even a synonym for beauty? I continue to shrug my shoulder with every one of these questions. I simply don’t have an answer.
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