Where All say ‘Good Bye’

While travelling to my office, I pass by this strange plot of land – a graveyard (for Christians and Muslims) and a crematorium for Hindus, interestingly, on the same plot, divided by walls.

While we are alive, we bind ourselves within the confines of religious boundaries and forget that our final destination is death.

This reminds me of what Bulle Shah has beautifully said:

|| Gal samajh laee te raolaa keeh
eyh Raam, Raheem te Maulaa keeh?
||

Meaning, β€œWhy all this commotion if you claim understanding?
Why this fuss about calling Him Ram, Rahim or Moula?”

 β€œThis post is written for the 110 Creative Challenge Contest, hosted by Thewhitescapeβ€œ

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Music and Soul

I don’t know much about singing or music as a whole, but yes, since mom is a guitarist and a sweet vocalist, I have music in my genes. I have the ability to judge good music.

Recently, I came across this beautiful song, sung by the famous Indian singer, Javed Ali. This song, according to me, is a judicious mix of good poetry, great-soulful music composition and soothing vocals. In English, the translation of the song goes – “How do I say goodbye, how do I become a stranger to you, O’ beloved” ~~ If you forget, I shall forget this madness and the moistened moments of love.”

This song gives peace to my weary soul. The love-soaked beauty of this song is unmatched. Every time I listen to it, my heart goes: Hmmmmmmm….

Playing it for you –

Few of my Favorite Things

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things…

Many years back, my granny showed me the legendary movie – The Sound of Music. I was too young to understand the story well, but this song caught me like a fever forever. The verses talking about Maria’s favorite things, made me visualize those beautiful things. I sang and sang again – grew up singing this song.

Today, when it is raining heavily in my city, with lashing cold breeze, I am bound to think of my favorite things – rain being one of them.

Rains always made me romantic (even when I never understood the meaning of romance), and continue to do so. I lay on my bed, viewing the cloud-obscured sky, from the door that opened into a space (below the hibiscus tree) that turned into a little pond. Green and pale fallen leaves, with red hibiscus flowers, lay strewn on the surface of the water. 

I carefully listened to the pattering sounds of raindrops on the tinned roof of my little home and composed poems. 

When I grew up, I understood the meaning of romance, and with it, I began to enjoy rain with a new meaning. I began to love anything associated with rain – colorful raincoats, floral umbrellas, and the feeling of getting drenched in a winter rain. How can I forget a cup of mom-made steaming ginger tea? 

Rains always make me get into a mood to listen to good music – soft and romantic – Strings of guitar and the long fingers playing on them (when I was young, I easily fell for boys who played guitar πŸ˜‰ – secret unfolds! ** and I blush**). πŸ˜‰

 

Holiest Bliss – Your Love

In the midst of a lashing storm and heavy shower,

Outside my window in the dark,

You touched every part of my soul, restless and sour.

Like a thousand blossoms in a happy spring of my heart,

I bloomed in your arms, so strong and warm.

The fragrance of your breath lit the shadow of my existence,

I was no more a “me” but you.

And you and I were one.

Do I seek moments more endearing than these?

When I am in love with you – in moments of holiest bliss.

Thinking of Roads Not Taken

“…I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.” ~~ Robert Frost

How true are these lines! Very often in life, we think of the roads that we didn’t choose or couldn’t choose, for reasons whatsoever. This feeling is very funnily painful because you realize years later how good or bad is your life because of “that one choice”. 

The thought of the “road not taken” is very intriguing and alluring. You are curious to know what would have happened to you if you chose that road? What would you be? If given a chance to walk on that road again, you hesitate, but you are allured to walk on it.

Be it love relationships bygone, or a career path let gone, the thought of choosing one over another always makes you think – once a while, or often, but you do think about it.

Choices afterall can NEVER be the best ones – but can certainly be the worst. πŸ˜‰

 

 

Psychosis

It’s a psychosis so obnoxious
Makes her sick to her gut.
Loosens ends of her exhausted neurons
Intertwined in a confused mass.
She looks for respite
Stretches arms for help
Looks for happiness in things lost and forlorn,
Down the narrow lanes of piercing memories
Of paths not taken,
She whimpers, buried in the secret alleys of a forsaken desire…