grieving

Candy?

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‘How can I trust you?’ says Neo.

“It is a pickle. No doubt about it. (Pause) Candy?”

‘You already know if I’m going to take it?’

“Wouldn’t be an oracle if I didn’t.”

‘But if you already know, how can I make a choice?’

“Because you didn’t come here to make the choice. You’ve already made it. You’re here to try to understand why you made it.”

The longer I live, the more I remove all that is unnecessary, the more I see why I might have, knowingly or unknowingly made the choice to be here in the first place.

To be enthralled by the mysteries of life and death and the awesome ways in which our numerous programs, some within multiple others, work or don’t. To be in wonderment.

To see each day as the unveiling of yet another secret – the toothless smile of a four-week-old infant in response to me looking at him and speaking nonsense words with love in my eyes.

To experience each moment on this exceptionally spectacular planet, as a miracle not owed to me.

To appreciate the unfathomable source of the mathematical intelligence of golden ratios held within the ordinariness of a pine-cone, a pineapple and the head of a sunflower.

To listen with fascination using not just my ears but all my being.

To allow spontaneous, effortless, un-self-conscious expressions to flow.

To be surprised and amazed by the everydayness of extra-ordinary pieces of writing and music.

To be touched by simple kindnesses. To celebrate love and joy.

To be enthralled by rivers, skies, clouds and mountains.

To notice each of these gifts and marvel at them.

I wish you and me, a Wondrous New Year!

Please share your moments of wonder in the comments as often as you like. I have started noting them down in my calendar:

1st Jan 2025: My hands finished a new Mandala on the wall of a restaurant in Patnem (Goa) – completely unplanned.

2nd Jan 2025: My train from Goa to Sakleshpur arrived in time! I had to change my seat four times, but I had a fantastic journey. The train was delayed only by half an hour. A young man seated next to me on the train asked me if I was a writer. “Do I look like one?” I asked. He said, yes. “Is that a complement?” I asked. He said, yes. Made my day.

3rd Jan 2025: Wonder where the inspiration for this blog-post came from.

What’s wrong with Maybe?

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Maybe it’s two words, not one.

Maybe nothing is at it seems.

Maybe my eyes are utterly open but green.

May be there is no such thing as the absolute truth.

Maybe I hold on to mine for dear life ‘cause I wouldn’t know who I was without it.

Maybe all you need is love. Your own.

Maybe it’s okay to be green-eyed. Everyone is.

Maybe there is no hell or heaven or earth.

Maybe my name is so easily erasable, it’s hardly worth speaking.

Maybe I am exactly where I need to be.

Maybe everything is exactly the way it needs to be.

Maybe angels have appeared to me once or twice.

Maybe the only way forward is to stand still.

Maybe everyone was born to love for a bit and die.

Maybe there is no big meaning to anything.

Maybe each day that breaks into light is a miracle.

Maybe everyone is a little bit thirsty a lot of the time.

Maybe there’s enough water on the planet, maybe not.

Maybe God has his/Her hand on my head right now.

Maybe the light from the sun is on its way.

Maybe everyone has wings they cannot see.

Maybe that thirst is the one to be free.

Maybe no one knows what that really means.

Maybe it’s okay to be in love with the notion of Me.

May be a baby sparrow is opening its eyes right now, for the very first time.

A hundred shining circles

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“The longer I live, the more deeply I learn that love — whether we call it friendship or family or romance — is the work of mirroring and magnifying each other’s light. Gentle work. Steadfast work. Life-saving work in those moments when life and shame and sorrow occlude our own light from our view, but there is still a clear-eyed loving person to beam it back. In our best moments, we are that person for another.” – Maria Popova.

We have been those mirrors for each other for the last hundred fortnights. A few days ago, the Saturday group of the Circle of Remembrance met for the 100th time. It was a celebration of the love, the love we have for our children and for each other. Love that shows up as mutual support, respect and friendship. While many people have come and gone, some have stayed right from the start. We’ve walked together for four years. What a privilege that’s been. Such unique and intimate conversations, exploring the human condition through words like ‘home’, ‘freedom’ and ‘Grace’.

I wish I had reliable and wise friends like these in the Before. I wish I could listen with understanding that could penetrate any mask. I wish I had the ability for this kind of sterling emotional engagement. It does save lives. It has saved mine.

Earlier I believed that lives were saved mainly by highly trained professionals in well-equipped resuscitation rooms in big Emergency Departments and in Operating Theatres. Now I know that each day ordinary people save lives simply by being a 100% present, with everything they have.

The longer I live, the more deeply I know that love is gentle work.

Resource: Circle of Remembrance (online peer-support for bereaved parents): http://www.core-community.com

Joyland

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Islam forbids suicide. It calls it a grave sin or ‘haraam’. It is viewed as taking away the gifts of life given by God. The Qu’ran says, trust God, have faith in the mercy of God and do not destroy life.

Joyland is a bold film, the first Pakistani feature to be premiered at Cannes in 2022.

It is about being alone in a crowd of expectations, being punished for having secret desires and accidentally making them seen. It is about someone else having to pay the price for our impulsive indiscretions, about how the bucket of shame topples itself on our heads as soon as we allow our innermost wants to be visible. It talks about how others can forcibly live their dreams through us, how our roles in society hold us firmly in one place and make us invisible as individuals, how we don’t have permission to be confused and are not allowed the time and space to think and talk things through, how life can be cluttered and noisy.  It’s about knowing you want to ‘run away’ but not knowing what that means or looks like. It’s about having to figure all this out, all by yourself.

It’s about treasuring moments of joy when they arise.

They could be hidden in the kitchen, on the Ferris wheel or inside the pages of an old book.