Day 668

Posted by kidsaregifts20

A dozen of them arrived hidden inside a suitcase. Smuggled across borders in the name of love. True love. Covered in yellow and green skins holding the sunshine of the tropics and the sweetness of the people within. Carrying the essence of lazy summer afternoons spent back home waiting for the power supply to come back, fanning ourselves with hand-woven rectangular fans, for many hours.

They sit invitingly in a clear glass bowl. My most cherished possessions! Sadly perishable! Can hardly stop myself from digging into them and yet want them to last for as long as possible. Can hardly bear the thought that one day they will all be gone. Finished. The aroma they ooze tingles the senses and unknowingly I hang around the fruit bowl just to be within the sphere of that aroma.

Each bite, a taste of heaven. Beyond all description. The juicy firmness, disappearing into sublime lusciousness leaving me in state of ecstatic bliss. I take small mouthfuls to make it last longer. The juice drips in thick yellow drops from my knuckles as I devour the pulp around the stone. The whole world disappears when I am one with the mango. Move over Sally. (Ref: ‘When Harry met Sally’).

Summer is synonymous with mangos. Saagar used to love them ever since he first tasted them when he was 8 months old. He called them ‘ambu’, baby lingo for ‘aam’ which means mango in Hindi. I call Si ‘Tarzan’ when it’s hot and he roams around t-shirtless. He calls me ‘Mango’.

Day 665

Posted by kidsaregifts20

Another chapel.
Another service.
Another departure without a good-bye.
Another bunch of people in grief and black.
Another room full of sniffles and sorrow.
Another beautiful smile forever loved and missed.
Another reminder of indiscriminate randomness.
Another family’s future laid to rest.
Another opportunity to remember what’s important.
Another place to experience deep love.

Despite never having met any of M’s( a friend from work) family before, I could guess who’s who just by looking at them. Her hubby and her boys absolutely fitted her descriptions. Her youngest graduated this year without his Mum by his side. I found myself in juxtaposition with him. I could feel their shock from her sudden departure and could also see the strength they derived from one another. It was a familiar place. Through the people and conversations I got to know her so much better. I could recognise her sense of humour in the eulogies. It runs in the family.

On so many occasions we agreed that we should meet outside of work but that somehow never happened. Every time we made a plan, something got in the way. I wish…

Her sisters told me how much my friendship with M meant to her. It meant a lot to me too but I never really told her that in so many words. I wish…

I love you M.
Thank you for being my friend.
It has been an absolute joy and privilege to know you.

Bye-bye Miss American Pie!

Day 664

Posted by kidsaregifts20

Carrying on from yesterday’s saga – the laptop with a lot of my life in it stopped working. Very hopefully, I took it to the local shop at 10.30 am. They said they would call me around 6 pm and tell me if they can fix it. That left me a full day without much to do. I had to stop and think why this was happening. What was the lesson in this for me?

Maybe the universe wants me to give myself a break, freeing myself from deadlines and compulsive writing. Maybe this is another exercise in letting go. May be this is a day given to me as a gift to do something different, something fun. May be I just surrender to what is and make the most of what I have – a sunny day off work in this case. Not a very common occurrence.

So, I did. I was tempted to start working on the I-pad, instead I got in the car with my parents and we drove to one of my favourite places a short scenic distance away from home – the Lavender fields.

The gorgeous colours, the hypnotising fragrance, the luminous sky, the playful sun, the open fresh air, the kids in colourful hats, the selfie takers and … just being there with the two people I cherish most, I felt immensely blessed. This is what I needed to do. Reclaim my life. Live it. In love and gratitude.

Day 660

Posted by kidsaregifts20

article-writing-1

Since Day 0 writing a few words everyday has become a sacred ritual. Of late I have been struggling to remember how things were on Planet Before. My memory of myself from the past is now faded and hazy. I can’t remember how exactly things used to be. I can’t remember writing in any meaningful way ever before or having any talent or aspirations for writing. I did enjoy poetry but writing as much as a global e-mail within my department would make me quite nervous. I avoided the ‘reply all’ button at all cost.

This morning while sorting out some old papers I found a loose ruled A4 sheet with a shopping list in pencil on one side and a few lines in black fountain pen scribbled on the other side dated 9^th November 2010. All of this was in my hand-writing. Reading these lines felt like I was being re-introduced to someone I once knew.

“Today my heart is pink,
And for no reason at all
My voice wants to sing.

The autumn leaves, burgundy and orange
Dancing along the pavement
Anticipating change.

The skies unable to make up their mind,
Sometimes dark, sometimes light
Playing with time.

My fingers a bit achy
After 13 hours of work
I notice me feeling a bit shaky.

But my spirit shines
I feel the warmth of a pair of glowing hands
Holding me safe and keeping my faith.”

Day 656

Posted by kidsaregifts20

While sorting out my clothes and listening to BBC Radio 4 this morning, it hit me that life will never be the same again. Some of these clothes will never be worn by me again. They are not me. They are what I used to be but now everything is different. My body and my being are different. The planet I live on now is different. There is a huge chasm between where I live now and where I lived when Saagar was alive. Every incident in the past belongs either on this or that side of the chasm. Everything has happened in relation to that one incident – before or after. And there is no way of going back to the planet before.

The landscape on this planet used to be bare, completely lacking in possibilities, lifeless. But it is slowly changing. It is being nourished by meaningful, authentic and loving relationships. All dead-heads are being removed and vegetation carefully pruned of nonsense. What remains is real. It is guided by a sense of purpose. It is a space that allows for expression and creativity. Most of all, it works on the love principle. There are possibilities. Everything here is tinged with the absence of Saagar yet, it is a place of hope. The essence of the human being that was Saagar is here for everyone. His friend said in her e-mail, “We missed our Saagar dearly at graduation. We wish he — and you — could have been there, of course, and in a way it almost felt wrong that we should get to graduate without him. But all of us carried his memory with us, and without him we wouldn’t have grown and learned the way we did (and still are). I miss him every day.’

There wasn’t a penny to his name and yet he was rich enough to enrich all our lives.

It is for us to discover the potential for pure joy. It is here, on this planet.