Wandering With Words

Random musings of a reckless soul.


4 Comments

Book falls open. I fall in.

Image

A book and a cup of tea. Isn’t that a delectable combination?  A book and a cup of tea, or coffee, or hot chocolate …On a sunny day or a sulky one, a windy day or a wintry one, a book never says goodbye.

It’s raining today and I am ensconced in that warm chair-swing in the balcony. I watch the sky celebrate, extend my hand and feel it on my palm and smile as a few raindrops caress my face.Opening my eyes, I watch the steam from the cup of tea, rising with eagerness, forming shapes, trying to reach for the sky but then slowly it gives up and accepts its fate.

Finally, as if following a sacred ritual, I turn my attention towards the book in my lap and run a hand over the cover. It wasn’t a new book. Rather, a very old one. Borrowed from the British Library.

Turning the book over in my hands I wondered how many people must have handled it. To the unseeing eye, it was only an old, tattered book, unworthy of any praise. But a lover would know its worth. I wondered how many stories it held, apart from the printed one.

How many moments it treasured?

I loved reading for all those well known reasons- for visiting unknown places, for the new eyes, new adventures, new friends, the knowledge, the wisdom. I loved the musty smell, the sound of a flipping a page, the feel of a book in your hands. I love it all!

But I love reading a borrowed book most. I love reading the tales hidden in them. Faded covers curling at the edges, browned papers. Finding a dried petal or flower in between the page reminds you of some stranger-friend. Words scribbled on the edges and careless doodling. Favorite passages marked and dog eared pages!

A stain here and a stain there, telling stories within a story. Chocolate marks, candy wrappers, names of lovers scribbled in tiny hearts drawn at the corner of a page. How many stories could a book tell? And how many could you read?

And then as my gaze wander, so do my thoughts. I look up at the clouds and start giving wings to their shapes. Then, I wonder about you.

Do you love the rain as much as I do? Do you too like saunte
ring empty roads? Does the sunset leaves you awed too, every single time? Do you love making castles in the sand? Do you enjoy talking to the birds? Do you find humor where most people don’t? Are you as crazy as I am? Do you too hate the world at times? And then learn to love it again? Do you like to eavesdrop on the wind whispering to the trees or pen speaking to the paper?  Do you sit alone and relive memories? Do you get goose-flesh when you see the rainbow? Do you ever feel lonely in the crowd? Can you too sea the fire in the sea? Do you feel the evening breeze caress your hand? Does spending time with people below seven and above seventy mean anything to you? Do you look at the stars and wonder…?

Poetry? Long walks in the rain? Dancing? Calvin and Hobbes? Kishore Kumar? Clapton? Dcfc? Star wars? Beaches? F.R.I.E.N.D.S.? Duck tales? Fox’s wedding? 

The rain has stopped and the scent of earth pulls me out of my thoughts. Petrichor! Sighing deeply, I look at my book and smile. It had waited patiently for my return. My companion amidst lonely crowd. 

So would you still ask me why I find in it my solace?


3 Comments

How I met my…. lover cat.

olaf-frozen-summer

People often ask me how anyone could ever welcome the Indian summer. Well of course, there’s the scorching sun, the sweltering heat, the hot winds, the humidity, the unwanted tan and the long, loooong power cuts. But my answer is always simple – ice creams, ice candies, watermelon, mocktails, lassi and faluda !!!

Yeah, well, that’s me. th (1)

The summer before last, I happened to read somewhere about the countless birds that die due to heat and dehydration. The Indian summer is indeed brutal. Something had to be done. On my brother’s suggestion, we bought a shallow clay pot, filled it with clean and cool water and placed it in the courtyard of my house.

Trust me, the pleasure of watching all kinds of birds visit the pot is priceless. 

That year, a cat had visited. I tried to shoo it away – maybe it was too thirsty or just too stubborn – but it stayed and lapped the water.

And so the love affair began. 😛 Everyday, I noticed the cat and it noticed me. We smiled and things seemed so much sweeter. It came under the pretext of drinking water and that’s how we became friends. The rest of the story is boring and predictable. 😀

Of course, it didn’t last more than a year (not even more than that summer actually) between us. 😛

My point is, besides the joy and entertainment, you may also find a friend or a P~ wait-for-it ~ET. Pet!

So please, let’s get an earthenware bowl, fill it with water and place it on the terrace, in the balcony, veranda, garden or outside the window and save the winged friend of ours.

 


Leave a comment

Life doesn’t rhyme.

compassion

Be kind, for everyone is fighting their battle too.

A phrase so simple and poignant.

Everyone has their own story. Everyone has their own struggles. Everyone has made mistakes and everyone has been brought down by life sometime or the other. Everyone has their demons. And dreams.

I once read somewhere that, “If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else’s, we’d grab ours back.”

Then why do we struggle with our insecurities? Perhaps because we always compare our behind-the-scenes with everybody else’s highlight reel. Steve Furtick said that.

Did you ever wonder that maybe the little boy in the park is actually worried about his test result?

-Or maybe the teacher who inspires you every day has been fighting loneliness every single day.

-Or the pretty lady at work constantly struggles with acne?

-Or that the woman on the bus is fighting an eating disorder, and the man next to her just lost his fiancee?

So yea, everybody has their own problems-no matter how big or small. Life is all about how you deal with it. Experience can make one bitter or better.

For those who get bitter with time, life is a bitch. But for those who get better, life is a beauty.

If you’re having a shitty day, chances are someone else is too. No need to compound it.
Be kind.

So I watch what I think. I watch what I say. And I watch how I treat other people. We all should. 🙂