the box under the book of love...

After a few sentences exchanged, automatically, evidently, inevitably, each time that i have made new friends, we somehow end up at the question of love. if you are married or in love, everyone's interested in knowing other's story of love.. a story that always leaves people smiling and wondering.. each story of love is so special and so unique..

incidentally, i have made so many new friends and narrated my story of love so many times that its by heart now, word by word... but is that truly the story that matters..

My point is, we are always shown a picture perfect for love, but is that all? is love waiting for hours for each other, sharing all dirty and good secrets, doing wild things, going on mad drives at midnight, watching movies together, writing mushy letters to each other, arguing one moment and then cuddling the another, dancing in the rain, walking by the beach, resting under a tree, sitting hours in just silence of togetherness, buying silly things for each other, singing songs after couple of drinks, is this something what you have in mind when you think of a story of love? when a gal meets boy, boy meets gal, they laugh and argue, they party and socialize and "accidentally" fall in love and become inseparable. however we start a story, if it ends up with girl and boy falling madly compassionately terribly in head over heels, rollingly and quite roaringly in love..  so much so that they end up thinking marriage would be the ONLY(i exclaim, so you understand the depth of what i mean) salvation to their love... and then... they m a r r y...

NO No , am not starting the typically same story about gal meets boy, love happens, marriage too and then starts nagging, taking for granted, complains, MIL nags, complications.. don't wait for melodrama about how love terribly changed and my life was ruined after marriage and how my husband took me for granted...i have been all over there..been madly, blindly in love, fought with parents to marry to remain in love, got married, fought with his parents for obvious reasons, fallen out of love, betrayed, anchored back, won over, head over heels in love again, mysteriously disappointed at times, but mostly in plain comfortable zone of love, happy and reconciled and i call it my little box of love, a box where i store away all these years of togetherness, to which when i give one look, it revives me out of disdain and gives me the ability to fall in love again..i  plan to have this zone longer..

Because in these 10 years of knowing my husband(mark it, knowing, not 10 years of marriage), from day 1 when he started wooing to this day, we carry our own boxes of love, separate from one another, but of each other, with borrowed happiness, with shadows of sadness, with a few achievements and a trail of disappointment, with a few layers of awesomeness and some rugged ones of the years taken for granted, but owing to our varied perspectives, we choose to have them apart. and i know i open my box every now and then to bring me a new shade in love, to redeem any reining dullness, to remind me to love the man who for sure takes time out to open his box of love too...how else, otherwise, does he too smile and gaze like an ever so surprised and indulged lover. how does he put a neat velvet cover over my book of blunders and own upto it and decorate it with frills and colors, so much so that it intrigues my very core and how does he, otherwise, embrace it with full responsibility?

and no matter how long i go on to explain how the magic of love works, married or not, presently in love or not, if once you have loved, you know its magic and its just not worth regretting if just the person involved is not part of your life anymore, moral of the story is Peter Gabriel's got me speaking and i am gonna leave you now with the comfort of cherishing love....go on, slip out your box of love and refer to the book of love as you indulge in some heart felt memories...

sealed with love
Somi

Nani ka ghar...

i just sat with my legs folded, my hands embracing them tightly to my chest and i just sat and stared into void as rain drenched me, i just sat on my Aai(maternal grandmother)'s house's terrace( in puri, orissa )and i just stared into void as rain made my hair wet and they fell on my forehead and shoulders and i shivered. This is the house where i learnt togetherness, where i jumped and ran and screamed and played with my cousins.. this is where most of my holidays were spent.. this is where a part of heart remains, always...

my youngest Mamma(maternal uncle) ailing from quadriplegia was taken care of by Aai for 14 long years..it was her routine, she lived for him.. for 14 years, she got up to only turn him on his bed so he didn't get bedsores, for 14 years, she brushed his teeth, for 14years she fed him tea with a straw, for 14 years, she fed him before she ate, for 14 years she had a companion[considering my ajja(read maternal grand father) died  16 years back] right by her bed. He just lay, ever so waiting, waiting to be turned, waiting to be fed, waiting to be scratched..

and she just faithfully lived and pampered her baby of 44 years at her own old tender age of 76, she just smiled, and made her way along for him.she ignored her knee pains, her aching back, her bending body and her swollen ankles, she complained seldom with her priorities straight, she lived for him and made sure her baby was comfortable, through day and night.

when we visited on holidays, we sat in their room as he told us stories from the TV and of his own. We watched movies together as Aai would slip out her tressure box from under the bed, her box of Masalas and Beetle leaves, she made tiny paans for all of us(cousins) and teased us and pampered us. we sat with them and watched the rain from the window and later made boats and put them in puddles outside his room...

he was her living encyclopedia, he knew what medicines she had to give him and what she had to take, he knew what channels were there on the TV set, he knew she had a stock of biscuits in the cupboard, he read messages on the phone for her, he even read the newspaper, they talked about all the relatives and sat together through the night as Aai made pan for both from her big box of masalas and Beetle leaves. 

they were each other's world, one lived for another.. they knew no other routine. We all lived in our big cities with the only comfort that both of them were fine with each other.. always worried what Mamma would do lest anything happened to Aai at her old age. but they were a team, they pulled on...

everything went on like it was, until the morning of 14th of July, 2011, when suddenly in his sleep, Mama left the cage of his ailing body and passed away, just like that. not a word of pain, nor a complain..He just left.. and left us all in a spell. in a spell of shock, in a spell of confusion, in a spell of anxiety and in a spell of fear.

shocked we were because he didn't show a trace of pain or a sign that he was going..

confused we are because we don't know if we shouldn't be happy for he is now free...

anxious we are for my dear Aai doesn't know an alternative living, she always considered she was going to be the first one among them to go. 

scared we are to teach Aai a new routine, a new way, a new life...

i sat on the terrace of the same house, wondering if Mama ever dreamed of coming out to this terrace and staring like i did, as am surrounded by trees so green, the wilderness of a village and rain drops. i wonder if he wanted to be ever so free.. he is now and i embrace myself stronger to feel him standing somewhere nearby, contently exalting in a life after death.. I prayed for his soul, i prayed for my Aai, for her to move on...

i packed my bags and watched her wiping her tired eyes as tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks and lips stained of Paan masala as she's week to speak. the house was not the same, not for me, not for her, for none of us... for 14 years we came to a duo, the duo who made us smile. for 14 years we came to the house with the hope of progress..

Death won and freed my Mama and the house is just not the same anymore. As the Taxi honked outside my Aai's old big house, to take us to the airport, i hugged her and asked if she would make me a paan. She smiled and hurriedly took out her box of tressure, made me a Paan and packed it with love. and as i put it in my mouth and waved her good bye, i felt warm tears rolling down my cheeks. 

My first love, my first companion, the partner in crime, my love at first sight!!

He took me for walks, he took me for rides, saved chocolates for me and made up stories to make sure I smile... We would sit hours through the night talking about the whole world, we pushed and scratched and almost killed each other and later laughed... he counted the number of scratches i made with my nails and i counted the swollen marks...we screamed, shouted and blamed each other most of the time, we shared, we nurtured, we laughed and were there for each other all the time..

i was one and he 4, when Mom says he refused to accept chocolates if the person giving it didn't have two(one for him and one for me).

i was 2 and he was 5, when he proudly shared his toys.

i was 3 and him 6 when i started imitating him

i was 4 and him 7, when we sneaked around the house to search for the biscuits and chocolates mom hid.

i was 5 and him 8 when we played ludo and snakes and ladder and blamed each other of cheating.

i was 6 and him 9, having come back from a school camp, he would make up stories to give me goose bumps.

i was 7 and he 10, when he had threatened to beat the shit out of a boy who tried to hurt me by saying annoying things on our way back from school.

i was 8 and him 11, when he woke me up in the middle of the night to accompany him to the kitchen for a glass of water, lest ghosts and lizards attack(lol).

i was 9 and him 12, when i looked up to him as he won prizes for singing, debates, extempore, and sports. he was my inspiration and i died imitating.

i was 10 and him 13, when i hurt myself while playing on the school playground and my nose was bleeding, he carried me and ran to the first aid room as if i did die if he didn't rescue me.

i was 11 and him 14, when he made up stories to keep me reassured and locked both of us in the bedroom as our parents ever had an argument.

i was 12 and him 15 when he almost got rusticated from school for beating up the Principal's son for teasing me for some bullshit.

i was 13 and him 16 when our teacher had been unfair to me and had acted partial and he risked his practical examination score to only protect me.

as we grew, we became the best of friends, we went for bike rides which eventually turned to car drives, we shared our darkest of secrets and searched for answers to world's silliest and deepest questions in each other. We talked for hours, gave lost out suggestions to each other.

If troubles rained, He has always been my umbrella...

we grew up to go to other people. moved on to make our own lives...

But they say, brothers and sisters are friends God gave us. and i believe them, and how!

i came to this world to wonderful parents who gave me the gift of a life long friend, a life long shield, a life long throw pillow, a life long of love.

My brother was the first boy i opened my eyes to, my first glimpse of companionship...my love at first sight!

A STORY UNTOLD...

emotions unfold as perseverance upholds

as much as you hate it, let forgiveness unroll

each open wound will heal itself

as much as you absorb, that's how grand you get

talking is one to million

leaving a few unsaid is another

if i ever mastered being able

promise a world new altogether

you would call it compromise

i call it pure surrender

coz' once you love, emotions stand still

and if you conquer, then it never was!

for moments to pass

and drift you to a place in the memory

to grab hold of your heart

and sail through magically

as the music in you upbeats

as your eyes close in synchronicity

as you touch your skin to feel the same

thats' when love shows the blindness

bringing the pieces together

as hours pass you by

to see your pains sold

this is how every story unfolds, even if untold..

like an eternal flower in the lake

i'll sit calm and serene

all weathers i will feel

for those moments to relive!

I'll be your witness...

'Why do we get married?', asked Susan Sarandon(the wife) to Richard Jenkins(the detective)

He says something like companionship..she stops him and says,"We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'." "

and so is the meaning of marriage.,. to be a friend, to be a guide, to be a partner(even so in crime), to be together, now and forever... so there's no room for loneliness...

marriage is truly about the expanse of love in store and the incredible capability to forgive and to know that this is it and never have to say, its enough...!

marriage redefines itself each day to me, as everyday, we turn a new page to our book of love..!

the extreme freedom and independence i experienced in marriage is inexplicable and its so vast and gorgeous that i fail to summarize it in words...! the love, the fall, the attentions, and the lack of it, the dramas, the fights, the moment when you cant take no more, the next when you smile at being silly, and the next in each other's arms...! marriage's new definition as i set my new house in Mumbai, as unveiled by my husband to me is that we gonna be ecstatic growing old in each other's arms... its a promise made and i intend to keep it... just for the sake of sacred marriage....

there's so many times i have let you down,

so many times i played around

i tell you now, they don't mean a thing...

every place i go, i think of you,

every song i sing, i sing for you,

when i come back, i'll bring your wedding ring...!

Dream about the days to come
When I won't have to leave alone
About the times that I won't have to say...

Oh, kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me(you'll never let me go)

Shades of happiness

The leaf turned and showed a new shade of green...

they say its the color of envy.. but it only gave me a new screen..

i didnt feel a tinge of angst, no fear, no competition..

here i was sitting in my arms, embraced by love and compassion..

and this is what i am!

the water crinkles in my hands with a fresh shade of blue...

shows me what a heart with happiness and strength could feel..

i feel supported, i feel glad, i feel life with a new vibe..

am filled with forgiveness and a zeal..

to know what i can be...!

am wearing glasses of exaltation...

ready to give, ready to let go..ready to be stationed..

i emerged stronger when each shade touched me by

halted for a second, but the misery passed me by..!

try me now, am new!

Curtains Raised-Unfaithful!

When the morning gathers the rainbow
Want you to know I'm a rainbow too
So, to the rescue here i am
Want you to know just if you can
Where i stand, know, know, know, know, know

the song plays on full blare on the player. As meaningless tears roll down, the cigarette slowly burns down the little box of treasure inside... the box that used to keep smiles, happiness, kindness, love, spring, summer, raindrops, long silent walks, hours of togetherness, slow and passionate lovemaking, deep long kisses... the treasures that had promised Myra at a time to keep her alive.. it had sworn that one glance at it and she would never think of leaving her skin again..

she looks at herself now, as if standing outside of her body, examining, pitying, full of disgust, sitting in the closed car, sweating, smoking her heart out, with no energy to bring more sadness she listens to Bob Marley pumping with joy, hoping somehow his song would bring a miracle to her heart and bring her the strength to fight her own demons. the demons that assaulted her, leaving her to the ruins... these demons are her own.. they live right under her skin. the demons David had confronted, the demons that had exposed themselves in front of him, leaving Myra to her debris, granting no redemption!

David's tears, his despair, his ringing voice echoes inside a hollow Myra..."if you could desert your parents for me, you can desert me for anyone else".. and her trance is only broken as the cigarette stick burns down between her two fingers..

the one man she had joined life with, with the only hope of happiness, the one man she embraced with the hope of rescue, the one man she was sure of, the one man she had believed to bring her soulful joy, she cheated on him... she destroyed him..ruined his belief on love, life, togetherness,,,

and as Myra lighted another cigarette, contemplating options to bring back David to life, the only one playing on her heart was her right hand playing with the cap of the bottle that had petrol filled in it.. the one way of bring him his life.. to grog down the contents of the bottle with all the courage it took for her to cheat, with all the myth she had created around her, with all the power that had made her unfaithful... she could feel the courage built in her, she could feel it rising into her blood.. the smoke was now starting to suffocate her.. the heart had become a size so unbelievably small that she couldn't locate where that pain was coming from...

David's face full of angst, his body shivering with disgust, his voice quivering with hatred, his hands, his fingers full of hopelessness, his eyes red with the betrayal gave a slight push to the courage of lifting the bottle...

and just as she was about to lift the bottle to her lips, she heard her phone ringing,"mummy, where are you?" a ring tone she had made out of her daughter's voice that rang every time the house number called. Myra was in an uncontrollable fits of tears now.. reckless and aimless.. a cold drop of sweat travelled across her spine as the phone repeatedly rang..! the chain of her courage was broken.. she couldn't desert them anymore.. she didn't have the heart to desert the only person she had found love in now.. she couldn't believe herself of the state she had put her whole world into...

she put the cap back on the bottle... she threw the bottle on the back seat.. threw the cigarette she had picked to light again..

dialed David's number, to seek freedom from this pain.. as he answered,"hello?"

Myra gasped,"i really love you ..please forgive me for what i had become"

"Myra, you have failed me, in a way that i can't help you again, i am dead inside.. i only live for Diana, my daughter, you were my biggest strength and you killed it, you let go off our love, broke the trust, did what you wanted to do, and now i am wounded beyond repair"

" i really do love you, i really seek forgiveness, please give it a last chance for our daughter"

"i have given away too many chances in the hope of having you in my life, you made me strong at one time, now you only break the pillar of hope i stand on for my daughter, you did give birth to our daughter, but you never really became a mother, you did get married, but you never became a wife.. the girl in you still pines to be free, so go away and leave us peace"

"the thought of letting you down, the idea of losing you, the concept of being away from the family i built is impossible for me, please forgive the crime i committed, please i beg of you "

"what would you do if i had betrayed you?"..........

as Myra searched an answer, David had already hung up, and once again she lumped into the car seat, sunk deep in, heaved and broke into tears once again...

Fire beneath my Sole..!

Mind IT! i said fire beneath my sole... not SOUL...:P

my new found passion.. wake up at 5:15 and freshen up..gear up with sneaker, tracks and warmers... and start running..

it all started with the urge of being able to loose some weight, but has gone down to become much more than just a regime i follow to loose weight. i simply love the process.. wake up as early to stand by my balcony and see a void.. darkness and dim street lights... gives me a sense of fresh energy almost newly sewn wings unto me.. that make me wanna take off...

as i park my car outside the running tracks, i feel the urge to start the music and go blaring through the tracks.. As coldplay starts playing "Viva la vida" into my ears.. i feel the fire that sets me off and i start jogging.. very slowly and swiftly.. as the first round nears to finish , there's already an energy travelling through my feet to my calf muscles and unto my knees... and i run along feeling the strength building inside me. By the time i finish the 7th round, and 4 tracks of awesome music, i start to feel fueled up and broken down at the same time. By this time its already been 20 minutes and my body is urging me to sit down and feet to do the opposite.. one more, one more.. mind keeps repeating after every round.. and my stamina agrees,,, we (me and the smart little parts of my body) go along and run another mile... By round 10.. i feel the extent of my caliber to run and slowly i stop.. promising myself to extend it to one more round the next day:) ..

and i swear the days are so awesomely designed once you start waking up early...:D feels like everything falls into place..

happy happy mornings.. lead to happy happy days...!

BEUTY FIRST HAND

i don't relate to a beauty untold of,

but if it touches me, it whispers a few words...

beauty is in the eyes of the beholder,

is an old way of saying each one to its own,

but a heart that's unaltered by vices

would identify it at the first glimpse...

i have heard that beauty brightens one's day..

that beauty is so magnificent that it creates magic in the heart

i have seen beauty and i encounter it everyday..

it plays on the strings of my life and creates music

the music that makes me dance to its beats..

its when i want to smile back at the first person i see any morning..

its when my lil boy grips on my finger and cuddles himself in my arms

i feel it when a gentle breeze touches my bare shoulders

i see it when i see a good morning said with content...

beauty is indeed under estimated..

beauty is indeed less evaluated...

beauty is indeed little experienced...

beauty is indeed lacking expression...

i wait for a moment when its easy for my heart to say it..

i cling on to the moment when its felt...

the warmth it gives birth to is inexplainable...

the journey it takes me on is inexplicable

Sshhhh...

my experience with silence...

if you know what bliss is, you would know how i felt during my Silence(maun vrat).

To think of it, we actually love talking and making conversations and somehow we spend hours doing just that...! i never realized, not talking could deliver this amount of energy. "urja", as Rishiji said, is right inside you, its we who don't realise it and spend it all in unnecessary things like eating more than we need, talking more than required, etc.

two days in rishiji's guidance, i experienced silence and stillness in the most literal way possible. the days went by in complete yoga, exercises, sevas, delightfully simple food, satsang, singing bhajanas.. awesome!

when he finally broke the silence, i didn't feel like talking much, i didn't want to let go off the peace i was experiencing due to not talking... a strange kind of stillness, something inside me is just so calm that even though life is full, its feels like a lot of space. smiling is so much more easy that people in the "normal" world could write me off as insane..

and to suffice it the best.. my friend sukriti asked the most appropriate question after my silence was broken,"were you happy that it ended or were you regretful?"