Shut Your Eyes

On a beautiful fall afternoon almost 2 years ago, I met him. I distinctly remember my impressions of this tall and fit boy. It was love at first sight even though he remained mostly reserved. 

His mum told me about how he has always been slow to trust due to a troubled past. He didn't resist my company but I was surely not earning his affection just yet. 

I met him as much as I could. We would walk, converse and play and one day he decided to lean against me. That day was a special one - he finally decided to show me what unrestrained and deep affection was all about. There has been no turning back and the wait was worth it.

His name is Toby, and he is the older of a golden retriever duo. I will write about little Marley and his curly white lashes another time. Tonight I am all Toby's. His breathing is labored, but Toby decides to stay as calm as he possibly can while the rest of us are crumbling around him. 

His mum always uses Peace to describe him. She couldn't have chosen a better word to signify his personality. Toby gave me love and peace as he leaned against me each time he greeted me. Every time he turned to make sure if I was still there. And every time he said goodbye when it was time to return home.

I feel very honored tonight as he wears my tee and sleeps near my arm. One of his soft ears flaps by the side of the bed as he curls comfortably next to his mum.

Toby we will let you go if you are ready, but till then I know you will keep doing your best. Your demeanor indicates not an ounce of resistance nor conflict typical of death. I am not surprised and hope that I can reflect the same kind of acceptance when my time comes. I will smile when I think of all our relaxing strides as we walked together past stone-arch and into cobbled streets. I will remember the night you visited us and let me know how much you loved your brother's birthday cake. And because I am human, I continue to hope that you will make it to your sixth Toby. 

I look at your drooping brown eyes as you ask of me nothing more but calmness tonight.

Rhetorical Questions Are Allowed

If I whispered my secrets in your ear, 

Would you embrace me soon afterward?

If I played with your fingers when you gave me your hands,

Would you humor the child in me?

Stars in the waters ~ Minneapolis, Aug 2010

If I slept on the couch while watching a movie,

Would I magically find myself in bed by morning?

If I rested my head on your shoulder,

Would you play with my hair so I remember no reality?

Pinks in the garden ~ Mangalore, June 2009

If I played our favorite song on the piano,

Would you hum to complete the tune?

If I slipped into momentary recklessness,

Would you be patient until I returned?

Prayers and Candles ~ Bethlehem, Dec 2007

If I retreated to a gorgeous mountain,

Would you be there relishing the magnanimity with me?

If I looked at you in a moment of tenderness,

Would you let me gently braze your neck when I passed by?

Ella chasing sparrows ~ Nov 2011

If I wanted to waltz on the street,

Would you negate the need for any music?

If I already knew the answers to my questions,

Would I still be here?

Yes. Always yes.

Picture Of The Sun ~ Stella Stagecoach

Of Life's Little Faith

I suggest that you listen to Do You Believe as you read what follows..

I learned very early in life to place trust deeper than necessary in people, in outcomes, in hope, in expecting more truth than lies. To open my mind as much as possible towards all-round reality - in the innate beauty of the earth and its inhabitants. 
  

Now it might be a good time to also announce that I have had several unfortunate experiences along the way. But not enough to squash my view that there is always some scope for a little bit of niceness even in an ugly situation. The scorecard is still tilting in right direction so I have no reason to change my outlook too much.

The modus operandi is quite straightforward - Offer enough faith, or slightly more than is expected, at the nascent stages of the interaction. With this kind of optimistic approach, what happens is that people are a little taken aback with the open trust and forthright good treatment. Most of the time, the result of this experiment is amazing and unexpected. Not knowing how else to react, people reciprocate in similar ways after trudging over that hill of skepticism. 

My mother ,who taught me many beautiful things, also taught me about faith- the kind of faith that would potentially be perceived as naive. However, what is deemed as weakness is more like uncanny strength to me.

My experiences have made me incredibly cynical over the years, but I try and clamber onto these roots of faith whenever I am reminded of her. Tomorrow several people will extend more love to their mothers. I am not sure I'll do anything overtly special for her. This year I choose to thank her for showing me through her own life how to not give up on my belief in goodness. No matter what.

Post certain events of the recent few months, I was moved to think that all this positivism isn't worth it when reality is so grim. But I learned soon later that I was wrong. Yin-yang much. 

Tiny edit : And I enjoyed a tender moment last night :) 

So this is a rather morbid track, but I love it for its soul.

Key in the door, the moment I've been longing for
Before my bag hit the floor
My adorable children rush up screaming for a kiss,
and a story, they're a gift to this world
My only claim to glory
I surely never knew sweeter days
Blows my mind like munitions
I'm amazed.

Until Soon

My parents left to their hemisphere. I feel very lonely tonight. And I am in the library studying for 2 final papers due in less than the number of hours I want to keep track of. 

I am not sure how many people here in US land feel the same way but loneliness binds me in ways I cannot quite fathom. I've lived majority of the last decade , maybe longer, away from home. However the last couple of years have been explicitly lonesome in bouts. Strange because I am supposed to be used to separation by now. I will not deny my sentimentality for the family, but the distance from them feels like the kind that cannot be trespassed even if I wanted to. The flight home is forbidden. For multiple reasons - related to the actual physical distance in itself and also other factors that I'd rather keep silent about. The latter keeps me away from home by choice. Let me digress a little bit and very lazily explain the need for vocabulary constraint on my part...I will do that by quoting a very talented writer T who writes in an anniversary post how it isn't always necessary to share and preserve. I cannot stress how that affects outcomes and consequences. I must add that for expressive people like your's truly, that can be a Herculean task most of the times. So when I am conscious of the need for control, I redirect my energies either towards art or else baking. Nothing beats kitchen zen, many of you would agree. However, tonight I am in the mood for some digital art. The kind that has to be time consuming for proper fulfillment and an essential dose of satisfaction.  

I feel most inspired to create something when I am at the extremities of the emotion scale. Tonight is such a night and I wish I could do more than just quickly type this post. Lectures must be watched, facts must be assimilated, a long night ahead. But I'd much rather get started on that awesome idea I have in mind. I won't because I cannot afford any more academic suicide. Argh some more restraint!

My parents cried as they said goodbye, and I felt like laughing as I hugged them before walking away in the opposite direction. I tried very hard and the best I could come up with was a chuckle and some inaudible shushing to make it clear that the emotional outpouring was highly unnecessary. My folks didn't budge, they made it clear that they were heart broken and in true parental-style unashamed to show me how much. I did the same thing when I left home for the first time , about ten years younger and more excited than I could recount. I remember settling into my plane seat and finally closing my eyes, exhausted from last minute running around and concealing emotion by being busy. Nothing much has changed. I will always be their child. 


Looking back at the last couple of weeks, I can confidently claim that we spent some quality time after what seemed like ages. The only sour points being the fact that my brother wasn't around and that I chose not to let my parents in on my newest dark secret. I really wanted to tell them than live under this shady umbrella of psuedo-lies till who knows when. I tried on three separate occasions but bigger truth rests in the fact that I am a spineless wuss.

I shall sayonara with the rediscovery of an awesome track reintroduced to me by someone very special who will soon be graced with a long due you-know-who-you-are post. 

When ...

... sleep evades me,

I pray that a song as gentle as this rocks me to sleep.

But Kaavish does not have that effect on me tonight,

So I gaze at an almost blank canvas as melody tinkles in the background.

Until very recently, I could not sleep long stretches into the night. I forgot what deep slumber was all about for several years, and my only comfort lay in the hope that I would not dream of anything disturbing if I did close my eyes long enough to slip into REM. Thankfully the situation is a lot less morbid off late. I have doctors and a few wonderful human beings to thank. I also want to write a tiny note of appreciation to myself for some helpless perseverance. I cannot describe enough but I definitely realize that a tiny seed of adversity has been my antidote all along. 

On nights like these I lay down peacefully and manage to successfully dodge all forms of guilt with much success. I should be working very hard ahead of a predictably insane week, but I am choosing to lie flat on my back, and use a furry pet as my worthy object of distraction. I can hear her purring , my cat Ella. I know I am not alone. And I consider the art of talking to self a gift when I have nothing better to offer my soul, as strange as that sounds. Speaking of strange, I managed to confess my emotions very oddly to a friend and I am now blissfully unaware of what to do next. So I will do nothing. 

May I offer you a picture that is testimony of a calm facade? 

A pair of ducks - Lake Harriet - August 2010

And maybe a song too -

While you sleep you'll see me there 
Clouds race across the sky 
Close your eyes and don't ask why 
And I'll be a blue moon in your eyes 

A Love Like That

Reflections amid the saltiness of the Dead Sea, Syria - Dec 2007

I know my posts are dishing out to be very sappy off late. I will redeem myself soon, however in the meantime a man wins my admiration. His name is John Steinbeck.

And I quote from the all-resourceful Wikipedia:

In 1962, Steinbeck won the Nobel Prize for literature for his 'realistic and imaginative writing, combining as it does sympathetic humor and keen social perception'. On the day of the announcement when he was asked by a reporter at a press conference given by his publisher, if he thought he deserved the Nobel, he said: "Frankly, no".

In his acceptance speech later in the year in Stockholm, he said:

"The writer is delegated to declare and to celebrate man's proven capacity for greatness of heart and spirit—for gallantry in defeat, for courage, compassion and love. In the endless war against weakness and despair, these are the bright rally flags of hope and of emulation. I hold that a writer who does not believe in the perfectibility of man has no dedication nor any membership in literature." 

Swatcat, my model and friend, shared a quote this morning. Honestly, other than Khalil Gibran , no other author wins my fancy. However I must admit Steinberg earns my respect for wonderfully describing Love in a note to his son and he moves me enough to want to share with you as well -

There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you - of kindness and consideration and respect - not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness even wisdom you didn't know you had.

I have been fortunate to know a love like that.

Share with you an interesting piece from Travis , I really like the video -

Of Imperfections On A Beautiful Day

I start this post with absolutely no idea of what I am going to write about. I just figured a phrase about imperfections may be a good way to catch your attention. Or maybe it's some inane desire to express myself tonight even though I cannot put my finger on what it is that I am really feeling at this moment. I think the latter statement has more truth in it. There, I already feel better that I am no longer conning you into thinking that this is going to get very interesting, so you choose to continue at your own risk. At worst, you would have thrown away some more of your precious time into harmless cyberspace, which I am sure isn't as bad as other horrible things that could happen to you right now :)

Today has been a good day for multiple reasons. I began my morning with a relaxing walk under light drizzle. I had petrichor to greet me and some happy thoughts running through my head. (Hey, I learn these strange words thanks to a certain namesake). I suppose I lucked out big-time this morning because to my right sat Gotu, while I happily munched on buttered toast and nutty pancakes at Al's, the fabled breakfast place in Dinkytown, Minneapolis. I consider myself lucky because it is almost by chance that I hooked up with G who magically gets finger-counted among good company at the U. So, in a sequence of rather fortunate events, we walked under green trees and pretty blue skies. Not only that, I kicked some wet mud as my feet landed on the earth and the wind gently kissed my face. It was just an innocent detour. It was a swing. It was a grassy park. It was a handful of handsome smiles. In those moments, it was all perfection.

And don't you just love going back to sleep late into the morning after with a belly-full of great breakfast? Rare occasion as I laid my head on the cool side of my pillow and curled up for two extra hours of the day. The sleep was exquisite and so were the silly dreams of home. My Ella then decided to stick her tongue out to properly signify blissful nap state, and I've never seen her do that before. Oddly enough, I didn't think I would be too fond of felines however this cat redefines pet innocence every single day. Yes, every single day and then she sells me out. If that isn't ransom, I am not sure what is.

Ella cuddle-face pink tongue - 17 Apr 2012

I am not sure if I should chronicle everything about this nearly awesome day so I will skip details for the sake of people's privacy and the ungodly hour of the night. Filtering is also essential when it comes to forms of expression, and I have not learned this lesson too well but I try. Most significantly, I watched Garden State for the second time (Caught an immediate release way back in 2004, compulsion to document useless facts in this blog) and cheered up at this scene among others :

The very talented Zach Braff won the grammy for the awesome songs that he apparently hand-picked for this movie. I think my favorite part of the movie is how it ends with a lot less perfection than one would expect of movie stories. Of not knowing what to do. Of allowing life to steer you through rough patches without much resistance. And as I said earlier, I am not sure myself tonight. I don't know where I am really headed in life but what I am aware of for sure is that satisfaction is today and now. I also suspect that a large part of it has also got to do with euphoric feelings of attraction, but heck I am going to permit myself to take advantage of beauty in the breakdown.

And if you took to me

Like the gull takes to the wind...