Quote UnQuote 1: Death

Rachna, the rachnakar (creator) of the popular blogs Rachnasays and Rachnacooks tagged me in the three-day quote challenge. I had been unsure how to do this because most of my posts already have some quote in them (often a long one, and sometimes a passage actually). To be honest, I would have probably skipped the challenge if it were not for the warm and affectionate Rachna!

Then I thought why not do something that I haven't done in a while. That is, be brief. And yet stay close to the spirit of this blog. So I am going to write only 100-word posts as part of this quote-a-day challenge. Now that will be a challenge for the brevity-challenged me, I think! Just to clarify, this preface and the quote itself will not be counted in the 100 words :)

So without much ado, here I go, with the first post today.

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"This wallpaper is killing me. One of us has to go." 

These are reported as Oscar Wilde's last words on his deathbed.

Nobody else could have said this! Wilde knew the real effect of real beauty on mind, heart and soul. His thoughts, words, wit are proof enough. His fashion sense too for those interested in only outer beauty!

But there’s more to these words. They make you think about the last thing you’d like to see before closing your eyes. For ever. Or maybe every night till then. Or tonight.

What is it? An object? A face? A vision? Something indescribable, perhaps?

Why not visualize tonight? Conscious death takes preparation.

Yellow

A new post in the series - Light and Sound

When a picture searches for its music, or a piece of music finds its right picture...the result is a magical experience of Light and Sound.

Yellow, her favourite colour, 

Like the golden-light of her widest smile.

Hiding just enough of that slightly-chipped tooth, 

Exposed in a full-hearted-laugh, in a little while. 

A white-and-sea-green dress, her favourite pearls, 

A head-scarf covering where silvery-grey once shone

They celebrated with her, her birth and life, 

This day, last year, striving that pain isn’t shown.

Eyes full of unspoken thoughts, he sat quietly, 

Aloof, alone, in the middle of it all. 

Burdened by the pain-to-come his heart let out

A sigh that broke down the teary-eyed wall.

Krishna! The Yellow-robed One

In your flute I’ll find my lost Sun.

~ Photo by Suhas Mehra

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This is my 100th post for the calendar year 2014. And I thank whosoever planned it to be this way. There is no way I could have planned this special number for this special 100-word-post triggered by a very special memory and experience.
Krishna, You Alone Are!

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For previous post in this series, click here.

For all posts in this series, click here.

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Linking this post with ABCWednesday: Y, Y is for Yellow

Solitude

She wished she knew that Life isn’t 

          What others say

          Or what her head or heart say it is,

          But Life simply is.

She wished she knew that Love isn’t 

What others say

          Or what her head or heart say it is,

          But Love simply is.

She wished she knew that Life and Love

Are not ‘out’ there but blossom ‘in’ here.

That only in a deep inner solitude 

Love becomes Life, and Life Love. 

She wished she knew then what she knew now.

          She would have loved, lived, and lived love.

          But she will, now.

In solitude. In Love.

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This 100-word meditation is inspired by one of my favourite passages from Amrita Pritam's voluminous writings. I find her juxtaposition of companionship and solitude so enticing and so true. I can try translating it for non-Hindi-knowing readers, but that would take away the beauty of her words. Instead it maybe better to share a somewhat similar thought from an American writer, bell hooks. 

Not exactly the same thought, but still close. Perhaps different cultural perspectives. One speaks of solitude in love that is necessary for the sake of solitude itself, the other for the sake of becoming better at loving. Same difference? Let the reader ponder.

Image 1 source

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Linking this post to Write Tribe 100 words on Saturday prompt - She wished she knew then what she knew now.

Also linking this to ABC Wednesday, S: S is for Solitude

Priceless are the Moments...Part I

A new post in the series - When a Picture Leads

He knew he had to capture it. That sight. That moment. For his love.  

Dangling on the chain was that beauty he knew his love would love. A thin little branch, a chain of the big tree of life, and there it was dangling on it, a beautiful brown and blue butterfly. 

 

Beautiful in its simplicity, in what it seemed to be saying.

He captured the beauty on his camera. And emailed it to her the same evening. He wasn't even sure if it will reach her, but it didn't matter. But he specifically chose to send it to her old email address, from several years ago. He thought it was more charming, more romantic. His mind worked that way - then and now.

She had however changed, and not just her email address. 

But she still checked that old email address once or twice a week...just in case... 

And that day she checked. She couldn't believe her eyes. Was it really his name she saw? Why was he emailing her? And at this old address? With a slight irritation she shook her head impatiently and opened the email and saw.

There were only two words in the subject line - For love....

And below, only four.

Remember the moment when....

And then she opened the attachment. 

She sat in silence, looking at the picture, remembering. Not just that one moment, but a lot of those moments. Those walks, those flowers, those butterflies, those moments of beauty, those moments of love they experienced together. 

When did those moments end? Why did they end? 

And she remembered that moment too. That moment when she knew exactly what she wanted. Him. A life with him.

Her left forefinger casually went up to touch something on her neck. Dangling on the chain was an intricately designed diamond pendant. She walked to her bedroom and straight to her closet. She opened the drawer and found it. The ring he had presented to her when he asked her to marry him. 

That was the moment.

The moment when they had spotted a beautiful butterfly dangling on a thin little leaf, and the passion with which they admired the beautiful yellows, reds, whites and blacks of the butterfly contrasting with the green of the leaf. And the way their eyes and hearts could see and feel the love that was all around in nature, all around them, in them.

Several moments passed. The butterfly just sat there, and so did they, in silence. They smiled at such beauty and looked at each other with smiling eyes.

That was the moment she knew what she wanted. And she knew he knew it too. And he too knew that she knew what he wanted most of all. Their love was like that, silent and beautiful.

This was the moment for which he had kept that ring carefully hidden in the side pocket of his camera bag. He gently took it out and presented it to her. And asked her the question. Simply, beautifully. Amidst those trees, flowers and butterflies.

(Pictures by Suhas Mehra)

To read the second and concluding part of the story, click here.

To see the previous posts in the series, When a Picture Leads, click here.

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Linking this post to Write Tribe- Wednesday Prompt - Dangling on the chain was....

Also linking this post with ABC Wednesday: P - P is for Priceless

On the Road

A Poem and A Song - IV: A Series to Celebrate Art in All Forms 

It is actually quite amazing when you find the same thought being expressed through a picture, a poem, a song, or even a gesture.

Perhaps it happens because the thought has sunk deep into you, at least for the time being, and you just view a certain picture, read a certain poem and hear a certain song as expressions of that singular thought.

Or perhaps they really are conveying the same thought, but in different shades and hues. 

And it just so happens that when that very thought captured your attention, certain pictures, poems and songs also appeared before you allowing you to delve deeper into the thought and let it reveal its deeper essence to you.

Regardless of how it happens, it is always a moment to relish and cherish the beauty. The beauty of the picture, the song, the poem. The beauty of the experience. The beauty of the moment.

Photo by Ismail Okur

It is not just about the walking alone, it is not just about the path we take. It is also, perhaps even more so about the deeper awareness of walking, of being on the road, of becoming the path itself, of recognizing how small we are really amidst the grandeur of all that is around us. It is about becoming quiet and letting the path take us on the journey. On the road. Wherever it leads us. And yet slowly becoming aware and conscious of the journey - outer and inner.

What does this picture say to you? 

Lover's Gifts XLVII: The Road Is

The road is my wedded companion. She speaks to me under my feet all

day, she sings to my dreams all night.

My meeting with her had no beginning, it begins endlessly at

each daybreak, renewing its summer in fresh flowers and songs, and

her every new kiss is the first kiss to me.

The road and I are lovers. I change my dress for her night

after night, leaving the tattered cumber of the old in the wayside

inns when the day dawns. 

~ Rabindranath Tagore

Singer: Hemant Kumar, Composition: Pt. Raghunath Seth, Lyrics: Pt. Narendra Sharma

To see previous posts in this series, click here and here and here.