Maria writes again...
I am two women; one wants to have all the joy, passion and adventure that life can give me. The other wants to be a slave to routine to family life, to the things that can be planned and achieved. I am a housewife and a prostitute; both of us living in the same body and doing battle with each other. The meeting of these two women is a game with serious risks. A divine dance. When we meet, we are two divine energies, two universes colliding. If the meeting is not carried out with due reverence, one universe destroys the other.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
True Love
When the learning or the realisation that you would have acquired over a period of time comes all of a sudden in front of you with a very attractive, appealing name, you wonder... oh! i didn't know that this concept already existed... and that it has a name too... Anyways, it is always good to go through an experince and learn. It leaves you enriched.
I got a similar feeling when I was reading Eleven Minutes. I cannot put the thoughts of Maria across better than how she has recorded in her diary. A leaf from Maria's diary... (My diary too)...
No one owns anything, that everything is an illusion - and that applies to material as well as spiritual things. Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.
And if nothing belongs to me, then there is no point wasting my time looking after things that aren't mine, it is best to live as if today were the first (or last) day of my life...
... All my life, I thought of love as some liknd of an enslavement. Well, freedom only exists when love is present. The person who gives him or herself, the person who feels freest, is the person who love most wholeheartedly. And the person who loves wholeheartedly feels free. In love, no one can harm anyone else, we are responsible for our own feelings and cannot blame someone else for what we feel. No one loses anyone, because no one owns anyone. That's the true experience of freedom: having the most important thing in the world without owning it.
I got a similar feeling when I was reading Eleven Minutes. I cannot put the thoughts of Maria across better than how she has recorded in her diary. A leaf from Maria's diary... (My diary too)...
No one owns anything, that everything is an illusion - and that applies to material as well as spiritual things. Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.
And if nothing belongs to me, then there is no point wasting my time looking after things that aren't mine, it is best to live as if today were the first (or last) day of my life...
... All my life, I thought of love as some liknd of an enslavement. Well, freedom only exists when love is present. The person who gives him or herself, the person who feels freest, is the person who love most wholeheartedly. And the person who loves wholeheartedly feels free. In love, no one can harm anyone else, we are responsible for our own feelings and cannot blame someone else for what we feel. No one loses anyone, because no one owns anyone. That's the true experience of freedom: having the most important thing in the world without owning it.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Being
I truly believe in what the old King in The Alchemist says, “When you really want something to happen, the whole universe conspires so that your wish comes true.”
Everything began to fall in place from the beginning of this year. I see clarity in everything. I believe in whatever I label to be “gut feeling”. I shed all those beliefs which were inhibiting me from going forward. I pay attention to those voices from inside. I realize the importance of giving equal importance to all my senses.
I see my dream now. I see it happening in front of me… it is more of a reality than a dream. I am passionate about living every moment. Sometimes, it is difficult to transform what one feels into concrete words. It is nothing but the sheer pleasure in being.
Everything began to fall in place from the beginning of this year. I see clarity in everything. I believe in whatever I label to be “gut feeling”. I shed all those beliefs which were inhibiting me from going forward. I pay attention to those voices from inside. I realize the importance of giving equal importance to all my senses.
I see my dream now. I see it happening in front of me… it is more of a reality than a dream. I am passionate about living every moment. Sometimes, it is difficult to transform what one feels into concrete words. It is nothing but the sheer pleasure in being.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
The conversation
I came across these lovely lines in a book and I took liberty to turn the writer's thoughts to a conversation.
I am a cloud... I have been feeling an implusion to go... A call from with in... A very strong feeling...
But where to? I don't know. Who do I ask? The sky knows the reasons and patterns behind all clouds; Sky, where do I go and when? Now?
My little one, clouds don't know why they move in such direction and at such a speed... Listen to your heart and go. You will know when you lift yourself high enough to see beyond horizons.
I am a cloud... I have been feeling an implusion to go... A call from with in... A very strong feeling...
But where to? I don't know. Who do I ask? The sky knows the reasons and patterns behind all clouds; Sky, where do I go and when? Now?
My little one, clouds don't know why they move in such direction and at such a speed... Listen to your heart and go. You will know when you lift yourself high enough to see beyond horizons.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Art
This is world in miniature
Birth, Life and Death thrive here
A moment, mood, action
Emotion, face, gesture
Nature, sound and silence
Captured in eternity.
Endearing images narrating new stories
Silent voices, taking new resonance
Poignant looks, piercing into every heart
Challenges, rebellions and struggles
Frozen forever.
Chiselled curves and features
Blending colours and strokes
Well chosen words
The unique perceptions of artists and poets
This is world in miniature
Birth, Life and Death thrive here.
Birth, Life and Death thrive here
A moment, mood, action
Emotion, face, gesture
Nature, sound and silence
Captured in eternity.
Endearing images narrating new stories
Silent voices, taking new resonance
Poignant looks, piercing into every heart
Challenges, rebellions and struggles
Frozen forever.
Chiselled curves and features
Blending colours and strokes
Well chosen words
The unique perceptions of artists and poets
This is world in miniature
Birth, Life and Death thrive here.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Baby's Day Out
I have several reasons for not taking care of my hair; quality time to be spent with my baby, hectic work schedule, cooking in the morning and evening, reading the books that I have piled near my bed, shopping and being with my baby and my husband during weekends… the endless list goes on…
The other day my friend hinted – it was actually a straight forward suggestion than a hint – that I should think “seriously” of getting my hair trimmed. Okay, if you wish so…
Demand: She would accompany me only if I get my baby also to the beauty parlour. I warn: I will be busy; you may need to baby-sit at least for an hour. She proudly says, Well, I have looked after my nephew a few years ago and you know, I am an expert in that. You need not worry; I will take care of him. (I have listened to a number of stories how many times she has wiped his arse when he shat; how she used to feed him and how she once dramatically saved him from an accident, so on and so forth…)
I decided to grant her wish, being tired of listening to her weird wishes/ideas how by chanting some powerful mantra she should get a ready-made baby. (I have no patience to type and describe her plans to execute the process.)
It was truly my baby’s day out. He was so thrilled to have worn a new pair of sandals, screamed at random cab drivers and little girls on the road and we finally arrived at our destination. The baby-sitter had not yet arrived. The baby grew impatient and realised that the new pair of sandals was not that great to wear on a sunny day. It was also a little heavy for those tiny feet.
Okay, at last my friend arrived - her long smile and the mischievous look on her face told me that she had a good reason made up to convince me why she got delayed.
Nice ambience, soothing music, I settled down for my hair cut… and there…!
Non-stop crying for another half an hour. The baby just did not like those beauticians surrounding me and he hated all the shampooing and combing and cutting and drying.
The baby-sitter, known for the marathons that she has run, runs in and around the parlour with the baby, just to aggravate his crying.
She tried to engage him giving a number of things: cookies, cotton, creams, shower gel, spray, mobile phone… Her gestures with theatre effects and dramatic screaming did not help either. His cry echoed so much that they decided to switch the background music off. Forty five minutes. She kept peeping in to check the progress of my hair cut.
And at last… I could almost hear her sigh. My friend looked relieved after I had finished my hair cut and all the confident look that she had of the well-experienced baby-sitter had already vanished!
I think she is re-writing her strengths and weaknesses in her profile.
Well, I also need to add that she was successful in building rapport with him soon after my hair cut session; thanks to the NLP training that she underwent recently.
I need to do some shopping the coming week end; I should call my baby sitter to check if she will be free. My baby looks quite thrilled at the idea; may be he is planning another surprise for her!
The other day my friend hinted – it was actually a straight forward suggestion than a hint – that I should think “seriously” of getting my hair trimmed. Okay, if you wish so…
Demand: She would accompany me only if I get my baby also to the beauty parlour. I warn: I will be busy; you may need to baby-sit at least for an hour. She proudly says, Well, I have looked after my nephew a few years ago and you know, I am an expert in that. You need not worry; I will take care of him. (I have listened to a number of stories how many times she has wiped his arse when he shat; how she used to feed him and how she once dramatically saved him from an accident, so on and so forth…)
I decided to grant her wish, being tired of listening to her weird wishes/ideas how by chanting some powerful mantra she should get a ready-made baby. (I have no patience to type and describe her plans to execute the process.)
It was truly my baby’s day out. He was so thrilled to have worn a new pair of sandals, screamed at random cab drivers and little girls on the road and we finally arrived at our destination. The baby-sitter had not yet arrived. The baby grew impatient and realised that the new pair of sandals was not that great to wear on a sunny day. It was also a little heavy for those tiny feet.
Okay, at last my friend arrived - her long smile and the mischievous look on her face told me that she had a good reason made up to convince me why she got delayed.
Nice ambience, soothing music, I settled down for my hair cut… and there…!
Non-stop crying for another half an hour. The baby just did not like those beauticians surrounding me and he hated all the shampooing and combing and cutting and drying.
The baby-sitter, known for the marathons that she has run, runs in and around the parlour with the baby, just to aggravate his crying.
She tried to engage him giving a number of things: cookies, cotton, creams, shower gel, spray, mobile phone… Her gestures with theatre effects and dramatic screaming did not help either. His cry echoed so much that they decided to switch the background music off. Forty five minutes. She kept peeping in to check the progress of my hair cut.
And at last… I could almost hear her sigh. My friend looked relieved after I had finished my hair cut and all the confident look that she had of the well-experienced baby-sitter had already vanished!
I think she is re-writing her strengths and weaknesses in her profile.
Well, I also need to add that she was successful in building rapport with him soon after my hair cut session; thanks to the NLP training that she underwent recently.
I need to do some shopping the coming week end; I should call my baby sitter to check if she will be free. My baby looks quite thrilled at the idea; may be he is planning another surprise for her!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Living Yesterdays
Gazing through the window
She sees only the bygone days
Time does not tick for her
The needles crawled and dragged themselves
To stop one day,
Frozen and numb
She travels back and forth
Amid those black and white scenes
Refusing to live in the present
Unworried about the future.
Her children and grand children stopped to grow;
Their youth captured in eternity.
Her imagination feeds them, plays with them
And waits for their arrival from school.
Time does not decide her journey
Nor her age
And, the link is lost forever.
There are only yesterdays
Today never exists
And tomorrow shall never come…
She sees only the bygone days
Time does not tick for her
The needles crawled and dragged themselves
To stop one day,
Frozen and numb
She travels back and forth
Amid those black and white scenes
Refusing to live in the present
Unworried about the future.
Her children and grand children stopped to grow;
Their youth captured in eternity.
Her imagination feeds them, plays with them
And waits for their arrival from school.
Time does not decide her journey
Nor her age
And, the link is lost forever.
There are only yesterdays
Today never exists
And tomorrow shall never come…
Friday, August 29, 2008
Confession
The other day, my friend confessed, “I can never trust men fully. But why? In spite of all the “good” things that he does for me, why…?” Maybe, the accumulated experiences… from childhood, I said, after a few moments of silence.
When I woke up this morning, I wondered if there is a different category of women for whom trusting men is difficult? Is there anyone who trusts their boyfriends and husbands one hundred percent?
We did not speak about it later; it is such a common feeling among many of my friends, that we have begun to take it for granted. After all, they are from Mars!
When I woke up this morning, I wondered if there is a different category of women for whom trusting men is difficult? Is there anyone who trusts their boyfriends and husbands one hundred percent?
We did not speak about it later; it is such a common feeling among many of my friends, that we have begun to take it for granted. After all, they are from Mars!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Silence
Caricatures move performing strange actions
Tongue-less and dumb
Reverence form a halo
And, silence shade the background
They are unaware of orators
And audience
They see and they do.
Silence do not exist where
Sounds are not born
Sound waves meet to create soundlessness.
Perhaps, Sounds create Silence.
Tongue-less and dumb
Reverence form a halo
And, silence shade the background
They are unaware of orators
And audience
They see and they do.
Silence do not exist where
Sounds are not born
Sound waves meet to create soundlessness.
Perhaps, Sounds create Silence.
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