Whatever will be, will be.
Dilemma or predictability?
We try to hold on, it slips,
Time, like the grains of sand,
From in-between the fingers,
Here we wait for the new dawn,
Struggling to recollect that forgotten song,
Would it be a lesson? These explorations?
Some self-discovery? Or reminiscence?
Will I identify my essence?
Before I rest in Thy presence?
Whatever will be, will be…
Story yet to unfold, future yet to reveal!
This life is a loan.
Meter-down!!!
What’s the EMI we are ready to pay?
Do we choose this loan? Or is it just forced on us?
When my life is in darkness,
You become my light.
When I struggle to get up,
You relentlessly support.
When I am sad and miserable,
Your humor, brings a smile.
When I feel lost and empty,
You become mentor, my guide.
When all my senses, numb!
You comfort me like the sun.
When I am confused and scared,
You become my life’s driving gear.
I can’t ever thank you enough,
For being there my friend.
For it is with you, everyday,
My time is well spent!
I dream to hoard time
Like coins in my piggy bank.
I dream to store the smell of rain,
Will sniff, when life is insane.
I wish to release the fragrance of Jasmine,
That would lighten up my tired spirit.
I desire to keep the breeze locked in my hair.
Morning dew on my face,
And Sunlight in my soul.
I want to preserve fireflies,
In the wild, of my eyes.
I crave to taste the clouds.
I hope to fly to the mountains tops.
And walk on the sea beds.
I want to play with the starfish.
I wish to breathe, the moonlight.
I want to identify that
Song, stuck in my head!
Let my words talk straight.
Let my expressions be clear.
As I desire to understand,
And be understood.
I drive to collect,
All the moments of joy.
Living to the fullest before I die!
He was the authority in here! She was to be tamed- not because she was wrong, but because she was a woman. A mindset many Indian males harbor. Hurling abuses at her, he punched her in the face. Pushed her out of the door and locked her out. She stood staring at the closed door and crying. She was angry and hurt. She walked towards the road in rage, leaving her child behind. It was a frequent pattern. She struggled to exit this loop. The more she tried, the more she found herself caught in the quicksand of circumstances. This time he had hit and locked her out of the house.
Out in the dark night, it was pouring heavily. For once she could cry loudly, for sound of rain drowned her cries. For once she need not hide her tears, as they got camouflaged on her wet face.
The water soaked her clothes, her body and penetrated deep in her soul. She could feel the shivers as they rose to her spine. She was drenched in pain. The emptiness of the roads sank into her heart. It felt very heavy. Not knowing where to go she went and sat on a bench in the park.
It was sad and dark rainy night. Still and desolate. Rain continued to pour heavily. A shrilling pain in her arm reminded her of the bruiser. She touched it. Blood oozing from it was continuously getting diluted by rain water. The bump on forehead reminded her of its presence. To her zapped mind her pain was the proof of being alive.
It is the strange property of pain… Intense pain numbs, and numbness in turn decreases its intensity. Its is the mechanism God has devised for humans to cope torture.
Her blank state of mind disturbed as she saw two shadows walking towards her. She sprang to her feet and ran towards the unfamiliar by lanes with shadows chasing behind her. Two men were fast catching up with her. She saw the gate of a house slightly open. She entered and hid in the shadows of the plants in the veranda. Her heart pounding fast. What if someone came from inside and asked her why she was trespassing their property. The men stood there for about five minutes and left. She heard a dog barking form inside. She came out of her hiding carefully keeping in the shadows, walked in the direction of her rented one room accommodation. Her body stiff with pain. When she reached the house, the door was not locked. She entered. Her husband was holding the four month old baby girl, trying to rock her to sleep. Taking a quick shower she took the baby in her care. She wondered how God trusted her with so much responsibility. She thanked God for that tiny bundle of joy as she held her in her arms!
She awoke with the announcement for fastening seat belts. Her eyes were moist. Now her bundle of joy had grown up to be a fine young woman, whom she was visiting at Vancouver. The flight was about to land at the airport in no time.
God has his own way to lead those who believe in him.
Musings - An Endeavour to writing 