Rain drops

Rain drops make a sound which seems to tug at a corner of my conscious, which tends to lie dormant or at least appears to be dormant at a glance. It may be the soft pitter-patter or the angry downpour, the sound of the rain appears to arouse the feelings of a discontent of something somewhere which still needs to be attended to, waking me (or is it the my alter ego) up from its dormancy, pushing it to the front.

There was a time when the rain brought about the feelings of despondence and just like the bearers of the rain - the dark clouds, a pall of gloom and darkness used to fill the heart; tears were easy to find. The simple act of breathing became treacherous and herculean, a task which required every cell of the will to act and make it a reality. The gloom was palpable, something that could be touched by extending the tip of a finger.

 Well, that changed, like everything else does - life goes on.

The rain now brings a cheer to the heart, calls out in a seducing whisper to come and share the happiness that it brings to the lands. The tiny drops caress the parched soul of the soil, bringing forth a fragrance which had laid dormant, making the life within to quiver, transporting it from its deep slumber.

Rain whispers, tugging at the corners of y conscious still, but now the call is more calming. It talks and calls me to walk with it. Often I have wandered in the rains, taking my liberation - liberation from the prying eyes, eyes which question, eyes which follow, rationalizations which overwhelm, conjectures which distress.

Rain takes it all away, leaving an unconcerned and unmarred me behind.

Art Attack!! :)

Radio Baby

Born in a house where radio was playing all the time, with the lilting and melodious voice of the old time singers floating in the background I am what can be called a radio baby - if there ever was or would be a term like that.

It was to the musical notes of the religious paeans that the morning used to begin. My mom being an early riser would switch on the radio and the euphonious notes would glide in the morning brilliance, rousing us from the sleep.

Afternoons, after the school were spent listening to the pleasing sounds wafting from the radio.

The daily ritual of listening to the old classics made me so adapt at knowing a song just from the initial music score, that it was a game that I often played, of guessing the song from it, and rare was the chance when I was wrong.

I knew and still know many of the old songs of the '70s and '80s and few from times before that.

It is so sad, that listening to the radio has been put on a back-burner; even if the radio is switched on, after an elapse of 5 minutes, there is not a single song played- it is one advertisement after another. The songs of today, most often are not able to bind the attention of the listener for a long time and even if popular for a short duration, often are forgotten easily.

With the advent of Walkman, I-pods, and other gadgets, the radio generation is well past its living days, especially when the radio has moved online.

Where is the fun in tuning in to a streaming frequency, without the knobs and dials of a radio?

Dreams

Dreams! A word that is defined as 'A series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep'. Important to recall is the mention that dreams happen only when one is sleeping.

What about the times one is sitting and conjures up images of what the future would be like? Is that not a dream?
Dream it is, as the thought is still not tangible, is very fragile, and is still lingering on the outskirts of your thoughts, trying to live on in your imaginations, trying to imbibe in itself the breath of life. The tangibility of life that can be its, if and only if, you are ready to take the plunge to bring it to life.

It is not easy to give birth to a dream; it requires hard-work, grit and determination to birth a dream. Endless, sleepless nights of toil, of days which claim an application of self till there is nothing left to apply, of time lost which you will never regain.

These are the risks one has to own and subjugate if one has to attain a dream.

Many of us often dream of one thing or the other in our lives; maybe a better person, a better boss, a better son/ daughter/mother, or may be a simple dream of living as you.

Dream we all do, but instead of trying to work towards achieving that one dream which keeps us awake, we try and justify the reasons for non-attempts.... and whom do we justify.. to our own self... an excuse - As soon as I am done with this project, a justification - What will my family think?.

Why does everything else become important than that one dream which does not let us sleep?
Is it because we would rather smother our own desires, aspirations to live a life that has been chosen, thrust upon us. Or is it because it is easier to live that life than to fight against it... to try and make the people around you realize that what you aspire for is not that strange.

It is all this and much more. Human beings are social animals and love to be praised and appreciated by the general public at large. Some of us are bitten by a bug, which unfortunately forces us to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. When everything seems to be going okay for them, these poor souls just land themselves into situations which demand that they give their 'much in demand' advise, which obviously no body wants, but these guys have to give it and since they are the once doling out the advise so freely, they generally are the ones ensuring the implementation of the same.

Hehe!!! Easier said than done. So, out go their dreams and in comes the responsibility of wise words.

There are some of the human species who can never say No to anyone, especially if the person asking for the request is from the immediate family or friends. And since saying a simple word 'NO' is soooo difficult, you have to pay the price.

The price is your time, resources, energy being spent on tasks you never had and never will ever have any intention of doing if you had the guts to say No.

Thus, suffice it to say that given the species that we belong to, where from the birth we are taught about the survival of all and not the fittest, we keep on sacrificing our dreams at the behest of the dreams of another.

Maybe, one day the dreamers would have the nerve to achieve their dreams. Till that day comes, let me say, quoting the words of Rabindra Nath Tagore

Open thy mind walk alone
Be not afraid, walk alone

Thyroid - a journey

Tired, jaded, wasted body

Hemoglobin drop, sanguine fluid gone

Yo-yo emotions, crotchety.. not due to age!

Rough, brambly hair.. brittle nails

Oversized, bulky, butterball, I have known it all

Incomplete, insufficient, deficient iodine.. making me sleepless (not in Seattle)

Depressed, abject, blues, dispirited.. emotions which have become cohorts

Surreal

The sun was shining bright; the cuckoo bird was singing with all its glory, hidden in the tree top. A breeze flowed, gently swaying the leaves. She was sitting on the reclining chair in the garden and enjoying a lazy day.  Curled up on the chair, with the books lying forgotten near her, she was as content as a cat after a nap. A lazy unknowing smile stretched across her face, showing her contentment. Someone who would have seen her from the road across, would have been influenced with the smile.

Laying back, she suppressed an inadvertent yawn, stretched and looked up at the sun shining bright. She appeared to be in a mind of challenging the sun to a dual of 'stare'. Sun on its part appeared to be of an indulgent temperament, helping her win with a drifting cloud covering it for a moment, a moment which allowed her to win.

Beaming, she shifted her gaze to the drama unfolding on the garden. Taking her to be part of the verdure, the squirrels had ventured down from the tree tops in search of food morsels, which we as humans often discard as superfluous. They were playing a game of 'catch me' with each other chasing each other from a tree to another. The trees stood majestically looking down with benevolence at macrocosm of which they were a significant part.

She seemed to have floated out of her body and felt she had become one with the cosmos. She became part of the game of 'chase me' the squirrels played. She flew to the tree-top and became one with the cuckoo bird. Soaring higher she became the cloud which covered the sun. Letting herself flow on the waves of the air, she became the breeze, gently swaying the leaves.

She was one with the past when the earth had been borne out of the cosmos. She was one with the future where earth was at its epitome. She became the present when she was intimate with the infinite universe.

She felt the pain of the ant that was squished under the foot of an unaware human, which would never go back to its working brethren  She felt the sadness of the bird which had lost its nest when the tree was cut down. She felt the small body of the bird filling with heart rending anguish.

Leaving the sadness, she moved on, floating away to the sea-shore, the shore where the washed up sea-shells whispered tales untold to her. She felt at peace, a joy so pure which made her feel that her heart would burst.

Her eyes flew open, saw her-self entrapped in the human body. She closed her eyes again, willing herself to the escape from the reality of physical form, except now she was just another human, unseeing, unknowing of the bounties of nature.

Raoul - 16

Earlier

Waving a quick goodbye to Lyana, Raoul looked at Masud who by now appeared so dejected with his shoulders slumped, shuffling his feet. He seemed to be sulking like a child who had been denied his favourite toy. Raoul's face twisted into a snarl which only caused Masud to lengthen his sulk. Groaning inwards, Raoul, pushed him forward towards the waiting taxi, which he had just managed to flag down.

He asked Masud to give directions to the driver, causing another sigh to escape from his lips and more slumping of shoulders. Raoul never knew that anyone could slump so much; feeling a sudden burst of sympathy, he extended his hand to Masud's shoulder and tapping it gently, told him that things would be okay once his buddies were found and he could sort it out with them.

Masud replied with a mumbled, 'I sure hope you are correct for all our sakes. You have no idea what you are doing and the people you are going to upset.'

Raoul tried to pry some more words out of Masud, but it was as if the effort of speaking those two sentences had drained him of all ability of speech. He lay slumped, his face touching the windowpane, his body willing to escape to another place.

They soon reached the address Masud had told the cab driver. The neighborhood was much better than the one Lyana and Raoul had visited in the morning, trying to locate Masud. It was in the part of the city which was coming up as 'the' place to be living at, with anyone with money willing to buy himself/ herself a place in the higher echelons of the society.

Masud needed some more prodding from Raoul before he started to move or rather muddled his way towards the building. Nearer they were to the building, louder and more was the whimpering sounds escaping Masud. Raoul was afraid that people might think that Masud was in some kind of danger from Raoul and asked Masud to stop with his whining.

The whimpering stopped but the shoulders slumped some more. For a second, Raoul lost his cool, but then he found it comical trying to talk to a person who seemed to have lost of his powers of reasoning. He felt sympathy for Masud, but it was too small in front of the need for Raoul to get to the crux of the matter. He owed it to the story and also to the Museum. More than anything, he knew he had to clear Lyana's name which had been dragged into all the mess due to this stumbling cousin of hers, who seemed to have lost his backbone.

Raoul - 17