|Flowers are life blood of creativity.|
LIFE'S RICHNESS : Rather, I prefer to dwell on the infinite avatars of life itself, which never fail to stun or stir. Purely delving into this field of oceanic proportions in one’s own signature style, throws an intellectual challenge. The choice of a particular tributary of that ocean to ponder over, happens at any time and brain remains set to receive it. Out of the blue, the thought intrudes into grey cells, takes shape and comes alive on the blank page as follows.
HOW CHANGE HAPPENS? : Reminiscences of the past calendar of your life merging with the here and now bring forth interesting observations. Contrary to popular belief, I believe people do change. The change is not like a waterfall, suddenly coming into existence somewhere, after a heavy downpour in the hills. Here the change is deliberate, conscious, slow and steady and teaches you to adjust to the shifting truths of every day life. In my late sixties now, I know how this change has come about. The journey of this change has been flavored with bitter sweet happenings, moulding my character in between, cautioning me along the way about the fragility of human relations and about the power of the spoken word which can make or break relationships.
Yes, certainly confidence has declined, beleaguered by challenging circumstances in the course of life‘s multifarious roles, as a full time professional, as a wife and as a mother. But now being a proud grandma is one of the greatest joys of my life.
LIFE'S LYRICS: Protected and loved in childhood and adolescence, college lecturer at twenty two, marriage….. children…..the pain of bursting of myths of mushy romance, lived during heavenly gossip sessions in the lawns of GCG Chandigarh, during free periods… secret crying on the pillow or on the garage roof under starlit nights….. angry reactions squelched by umpteen considerations….. writing personal poems to blurt out the suppressed emotional deluge and finally gaining a state of stoicism via falling and balancing. The journey’s cobbled path with a few roses thrown here and there enshrined within me the capacity to celebrate the fragrance of those roses by putting them in the vase of memories. Life as such is no undiluted lyrical ballad, it is an epic poem with some sweet pains and numerous heart aches. Life’s lyrics get written every day.
Amidst the practicalities and choking compromises of life, you cling to the memory of those creatively thrilling precious moments which shine like a lighthouse through rough terrains.
There are yet tasks to be accomplished and lived for, and I try to attend to my physicality, to ensure its support for as long as possible.
SEARCH FOR WONDERS : I seek the wonders like that of the spider’s web, which surfaces suddenly with its fragile weave hanging on balcony railing one fine morning. Where is the place for resentments and excesses of any kind to squander this jewel of life...? One has to resurrect the special celebratory vignettes to walk alongside stealthily to merge in the here and now.
SHUN PROCRASTINATION :The villain of the piece is the satanic crutches of moodiness pulling you down in the mire of procrastination and allowing tedious lethargy to set in upsetting the ‘apple cart’ of joy. The battle within to stomp over the dead wood of passivity and inch towards some goal with child like curiosity will hopefully continue till the last breath.
Dear friends, welcome to comment on what you think of the above.