Random Thoughts

Asai mugham

I have always felt that if one truly loves a person, the love remains in some form - even when the person is lost. Memories, and the shared past link us to them, and the person is never really lost. They are, and will always be, a form of truth in our hearts, and a presence in our lives. I have held on to this belief in the face of some rare lost friendships - even a lost relationship.

Reconciling to death is another matter, though. So far there has been no reconciliation - I find myself blanking things out, preventing the past from rising to the forefront. I think of my father everyday, a habit that has been with me over the years. But it is abstract. I don't let myself recollect the details - the feel of his hand on my head, the kindness in his eyes, the always-clean scent of him, the faint smell of vibhuti from his prayers..... The sound of his voice, which ever since I can remember, has spelt safety and comfort - always cool, quiet and calming. The feeling of strength.

I blank it all out, to prevent the tightness in the chest that makes it hard to breathe. Later, I tell myself. Think about it after a few years, when the pain has dulled, when the bittersweet joy of shared times is all that remains. But I can't help wondering - will blanking out memories make one lose them all? What if, one day, one forgets the details? What if a person cannot conjure up in their mind, the complete presence of one they lost to death? Like a moth-eaten heirloom silk sari, will the memories be a faint recollection of the past, with none of the old glory?

Asai mugham maRandhu pOchche...

sings Bharati. I have forgotten the beloved face (that I haven't seen for so long). I am convinced that the face can never be forgotten. The questions remain, though.

*-*-*

Chinna chinna Asai

Small desires....As kids, we often thought about what we wanted to do when we "grew up". It was fun imagining, and when looking back, oddly none of what I imagined came true. Never mind that - I know I could have owned an ice cream factory or been a movie star if I had tried ;). I just didn't dare to try.

Anyhow, feel like making a list once again. After all, why restrict this activity to only kids? Maybe this time I will dare to try - and God willing, will be given that chance.

I'd like to:

1. Someday, be rich enough to live on the mountains - perhaps in a fully-equipped log cabin, with a functional kitchen and a pucca bed. Live surrounded by nature, and just write. Not worry about earning enough for sustenance. Perhaps the royalty of one published book will keep me afloat and I can afford the luxury of writing the next book while just listening to bird song, and the sway of trees :). Of course, on the weekends I should be able to visit loved ones. And go back to civilization whenever I want.

2. Learn salsa, swing dancing, and tango again. I love fast dances, and salsa and swing give quite a workout. I love the intensity and deliberate long steps of the tango too. Too bad I haven't done all this in at least 3 years.

3. Cook liesurely, and have friends over for a meal. Try out fun new recipes, and be completely unrushed. No making up to-do lists in the mind, no worrying about undone homework, no Maalox moments like kid letting me know with worried eyes that she has a Big Math test the next day, just before bedtime. Kid is hopefully grown up by this time, in good shape and at the risk of sounding like a copy of my mother, living a decent life with good values - and making a decent living.

4. Live surrounded by family and friends (can't be isolated on a cabin too long, you see).

5. Babysit a few cute kids in the neighborhood, but give them away to parents at the start of a tantrum. Babysit Kamala's kid and give baby away to his/her parent at the start of a tantrum (yippee).

6. Tutor some kids on Math and Science and watch their progress. Plant a vegetable garden with their help, and teach them hands-on about gardening (I have to learn it first!).

7. Stay healthy, and pass away quietly, without much ado.

Ha....small desires. Signing off now, on that note. Its time for dreams - getting close to midnight.