My Life, A Cocktail

Icy hands Said goodbye Hadn’t we danced Said we would keep nigh? A silver string Between us Now, we had the wings He said this must. What had I to lose For there wouldn’t be a me I smiled like they smile with the noose Into love, he beckoned me.

Clash! The next moment, I was bending over to pick up my mom's spectacles. It was broken alright, the left glass. Two big cracks originating at the same place, divided as they touched the other end. Whatever, the point is, the specs was useless. Let me tell you how it happened. I ain't telling you so I could entertain and all, just so that I could get it out of my system, may be some kind of confession sorts. I had just finished my dinner, and came to the living so that I could catch up on some TV. I noticed this new pen placed neatly on my mom's notebook, and me being this crazy freak about pens, went right to inspect. I lifted the cover of the notebook so that I could relieve the pen of its hold on the cover, of course, not seeing the specs on it. You can imagine what followed. For all those who wear glasses, would possibly know what it feels like to lose one's specs. I mean, I am practically blind without them. May be I am blind otherwise too, but thats not what I am

Pieces of glass lay on the floor. They pricked, and funnily for a change, made me reflect. I hadn’t broken the beautiful mirror I know. The one who broke it possibly didn’t even know. Now, it was my feet that soiled the floor. I wished I believed in Past Sins, so I could tell myself it was all God’s snare and that I deserved it all. Of course, I can’t wait for things to happen to me and then brood over them and call them my Fate. I thought of buying the thought that it was an Unfair World, a world of random happenings, that didn’t really care for the right and the wrong. When you say something’s random, there are no questions asked, like in lucky draws. So convincing myself, I pulled out the random piece that had pricked me, at this random spot in my feet. I left random little spots of blood here and there. I walked away, random thoughts in my mind….

Getting down the bus, my first challenge was crossing the Kanakpura Road. Having spent a long day at work, this challenge seemed hardly so miserable. Amidst trucks and honking cars, halting autos and zig-zagging cycles, I carefully traced the shortest path to the other side of the road. Once on the other side, people stared, more at the dangling ID card around my neck, than at me, with funny interest. Ignoring their looks, I made my way through the half done road. I saw this little girl playing at the garbage. For all this nice things that exist on earth, I have never been able to understand why the garbage so interests kids. I called to her, taking out an imported chocolate that I had preserved to eat in solace. The girl ran quickly across the road to reach me, snatched the chocolate from my hand, and ran back into a small plastic blue tent, which I guessed was her home. A smile showed on my face, and contentment filled my heart, the kind even a whole box of chocolates cannot bring. T

A strange echo a wooshing sound here to there it spans the source, I do not know neither destiny it doesn't start it doesn't end. Sometimes louder sometimes a whisper it remains a halo of stillness. The mind ceases waiting in awe to discover silence and creation.

Stillness carries voices random, audible of laughter of noise. Is that real I ask or is it my mind that laughs? Is there really a haze or perhaps its all clear like the echo I hear. My mind draws patterns some straight, some knotted and it loses itself in its own creation.

Morning. The stage’s set, we leave our current home, to the home to be. The first thing to do is always, putting the “Kolam” (rangoli) on the “Vaashal”(entrance). And as always, I am chosen for the task. Rice powder can look so beautiful at your door step. The awaited “Vadyaar” (priest) finally appears. Grahapravesha as its called, starts with a literal Graha pravesha(entering the house). The Vadyaar converted his brass pot into a nice kalasham, with white thread adorned in a lovely design, I still wonder how he does that, the pot is filled with water, a little mango leaves in it, and a coconut for the topping! Daddy carries the portrait of the well known trinity of Lakshmi, Ganesha and Saraswati, and Mommy has the kalasham in her hand. I am given the Aarti. As we stand outside our entrance to the home, I am asked to have the aarti done, 3 times. And then we enter, of course, with our best foot forward, the right leg! Once we are in, the pooja begins. The Vadyaar lays out all his stuff