Short Story Archive for General:

Teomancy? no …

processing

always endeavoring to get to that ultimate point where everything has been squared away… all tears, heartbreaks : wreaked and suffered finally addressed washing my shroud for delivery as pristine as day one’s delivery … I continue self purifying as an ongoing exercise bathing in fire of recriminations …burning in salt waters for my final deconstruction……

why does this silly heart wish for returns from “points of no returns” why can’t life like movies have reruns?
my lament has no boundary… it is like a miasma engulfing my sunshines…if not in flesh..come visit me in dreams … let’s relive those carefree times that filled our days with joyous screams

..

come
annoy me
I won’t get angry
irritate me
I won’t get short
remonstrate
I won’t harrumph
just call me
‘cos I so long
to hear your
dear voices
do know
am now
fully
awake!

..
just come

as the teabag bleeds color into my favorite cup swirling dark clouds… I wonder about dregs and gently break open it’s belly with a knife tip… ..

and then come to a standstill ….telling myself

“wait a minute .. You’re no longer into divinations and readings of tea leaves …then why did you do what you did’?

…guess old habits die hard …

nowadays with mind fully harnessed and at peace with life ‘as is” in acceptance of whatever is to be will be… am fully prepped for onward journey …

born with a Romano gypsy soul I am however always raring to go especially to slake my parched being with nature’s exquisite beauty that fills me with ecstasy ..

having daintily sipped my tea to the last drop …I stare at the dregs … wondering about its inky kaleidoscopic pattern and then deliberately wash away the leaves without any qualms

..

image: google

Journaling…mind drips

mind is such a trickster … is into playing games big time…on daily basis:
Keying into day’s ignition slot …I begin with genuine enthusiasm…And then slowly it whittles away….Chipped by a body frayed at extremities, fickle mind constantly dealing with changeling moods …..whattodo…….
…..what the mirror shows and tells and what I choose to perceive depends upon my degree of “self delusion” in acceptances that can change day to day … depending on how much of real is okay for day to day consumption..
..grip
opening palms and staring at an alarmingly lengthy life line I will it to shorten itself with alacrity… ringing words rain on mind’s cobblestones as predicted by an old monk six plus decades ago during gentler times in Bombay of yore … that I shall live up to a ripe old age of 96 that fills me with such horror! I continue pleading to my beloved to take me away NOW..
…..my niece “Whatsapped” me old family photos of my loved ones ..thus hurling me down memory lanes once again..spent a pleasant couple of hours reliving those “shiny” times ..some faces invoked sweet-sour-tart feelings due to their behavior when alive and children can be unforgiving …
…Dream from last night
I won a grand prize of twenty thousand dollars in spelling bee as a grand prize… when I received the check in my hot little palm I actually felt nothing… the feeling (as in non-feeling) was actually quite liberating…this late in the game … my serenity stays intact no matter what .. hence I still feel like a winner upon waking up ..palms empty yet full to brim cupping my soul as water in them always mindful not to drip or trip… still have along way to go in mending and amending …

Journaling..

10.52p.m. London, England June 14, 2017
..
One hour of deep sleep was enough for my tired beat up body and tad worried ..tinted topper it seems…. we’d hastily spruced up for group meeting followed by dinner at our hotel and I came away with lots of mind fodder..

Firstly re: our commute from Heathrow to High Street Kensington station via the famous London Tube ..that was quite an adventure in itself… beginning at airport with a helpful overseas customer support guy hailing from Goa, India and next upon our queries from a ‘dot on forehead’ Tamil gentleman whom Ganesh had quickly engaged for directions in Tamil his mother tongue, to an African gentleman from Sierra Leone who guided us most accurately in the Tube to an Australian couple who went out of the way to carry Ganesh’s heavy checked suitcase ensuring we caught the correct connecting Green Line train and once that was boarded another Good Samaritan in form of a lovely Brit lady rendered a final leg up two flights of steps with Ganesh suitcase with lots of smiles and good wishes…the annoyance at my misplaced luggage had simply vanished thereafter
..
We had enjoyed delicious piping hot coffee with a sweet chocolate roll at Cafe Negro inside the train station run by two Italian brothers who were from the beautiful picturesque village of Positano which we’d just visited during Rome, Sorrento and Sicily trip …they were delighted to learn of it and even joked if we’d met the Corleone Godfather family while in Taormina Sicily
..
Now on to our dinner conversation: being a chatterbox I engaged all at our table which included our Scottish bus driver named Gareth and Sue our tour director. At Heathrow we’d learnt about building fire in London this morning etc. and had been quite saddened by the news..apparently Gareth had met a couple of devastated ladies who’d lost everything in this fire in the hotel lobby weeping profusely as city of London had provided room and board to them and our hotel was one of many selected by the city…Gareth had then said “so much can happen in the blink of an eye” and we’d all agreed ..then he said he’d quickly called home and asked that his little boy be given lots of extra hugs as due to the nature of his job he doesn’t get to see his kid as often as he’d like to…that is why it is very important to share our true feelings with loved ones and not shy away …also I realized I was really feigning more irritation than what I was actually feeling…detachment of sorts can be quite liberating..

We’d joked a lot as well with everyone sharing their funny tales which included a lady who calls herself Betty Boop ..she too has lost her luggage like me…Sue the tour director was talking about Liverpool and I asked her why doesn’t England have a Kidneypool ? She and Gareth were taken aback and had said they’ll get an answer for me soon…meanwhile one of the ladies at our table had chimed in “probably because we have two kidneys but only one liver..I’d responded ..we can donate one kidney, save a life and still lead a normal life…that finally silenced all….

..
More later…
..

June 12, 2017

..

Late last evening our beloved Chitra came by to bid us goodbye in person …walking from her home which is at quite an exhausting distance to ours… fueled by love no doubt …it was “concerning” admixed with endearing for me…she is such a trooper and Oh so loving ! … I continuously thank god for her entry into my “second” life..
meanwhile Ganesh continues losing weight and looking very trim as Fat rolls off his body..I watch this happen in awe as I bite into another delicious morsel of food… the more he loses the more I feed my face out of sheer contrariness !
I cannot figure why am built this way..defying my own good senses ! yikes!
..
this morning as is my won’t I began hearing recorded soulful chants and “shabd kirtan” **on our TV DVR and as I watched between sips of cardamom tea.. I noticed the audience for the first time ….
… as I curiously watched I saw one devotee silently weeping profusely ..wiping falling tears continuously .. it was such a private moment of grief and I felt as if I was encroaching….
… behind her was another devotee with eyes closed lost in the otherworldly joy of it all..
..next to her was a lady mumbling fervent pleas that could be clearly seen ..
and another was simply singing along knowing the song (shabd)
..quite a few of the congregation had lost themselves getting fully immersed
in a one to one with the Maker..
..I realized I could identify with all of them as I too have traversed this journey from tears to serenity
..it was quite sobering and calmed my tea perked mind
..
suddenly I was awash in serenity
a tweaked mind can do wonders ..…
peace and out
..
*** Gurbani ( essence of Guru Granth Saheb – holy book of the Sikh religion) is explained in form of Shabad Kirtan, which is sung by Kirtani or Raagees.
June 10, 2017

Lost Tip
..
tip
..
I look at my kitchen knife and wonder when, how it lost it’s tip ..horror of horrors ..did it enter our bellies via some succulent dish? To date as all is well in our little world and time has stayed mum, I too will stop worrying about it…
..
Tipping point came in mind and how little things make all the difference… many people over the years have approached me on Facebook erroneously believing me to be a “connector” who could tip (trick) people into buying whatever they are peddling ..I shy away from such people as am no meddler ..merely a peddler of giggles and cheeriness depending upon my mood which is usually up beat …happened to me yesterday too! I unfriended this person within the hour of friending !


As far as tipping goes for food delivery or eating out and other services like massages, car service etc….I can safely say I am a generous tipper but by no means “a gone overboard kind of person”

..
as we are talking about tips: life reveals itself as a proverbial tip of an iceberg and when subsequent events unfold ..only then we realize true depth and extent of it’s rippling effect..

these days am trying to mend whatever was broken by me either with intent or unknowingly … it is never easy to forgive and forget
..

am merely trying to tip the scales in my favor for when I do make my exit !

Journal contd…where mind is without fear

April 12, 2016  Nothing Maudlin

wake at decent hour for a change but a head filled with swatches
of thoughts – an admix of happy, disconcerting.
when did I ever really get desired, unasked?
I ask myself..whatever fell in lap, I made it happen putting wheels in motion in my own quiet way. Lady luck did push other wheel providentially.
I’ve gotten what I’ve paid for by blood gut sweat tears and am happy for it.
earning and bingeing on own kneaded bread butter leaves no messy clutter in emotional debris and finger pointing.
However, that doesn’t abate certain yearnings in heart… tears having dried long ago..
coming to terms with that is really something else and am no quitter
detachment -full and final is name of game and am surely going to get there

April 13, 2016

Heart of the matter, matter of Heart
~
heart weeps without a hat drop sometimes
I wonder why is it this touchingly tender, prone to spill claret without really having any reason to….
has anyone felt like that? Everything is relatable if one opens one’s heart and mind wide and allows life to impinge in every which way…
what heart longs for does not happen, what happens pleases a lot
without seeping through and through…. c’est vie
I am super rich in enunciated pronunciations and these I take without
pausing stride nor with any salt pinches fully cognizant of elevated blood pressure all the time …
crunch time is when it matters the most.
Even then I simply carry on unfazed without waiting… Hence when something falls in lap at this sorely needed time, the joy rendered thereof
giddily cascades rejuvenating insides and tastes every bit dark chocolate delicious.
Such moments are rare hence all the more precious and much savored upon reliving…
time is zipping by at record speed and I’ve much to accomplish, many exotic places to experience firsthand and then lay me down for final exit..
Bucket list is long and keeps getting longer
neither crows nor grim reaper visit me these days..perhaps they consider me a gone case… am not pushing either…

April 18, 2016

Expectedness of Unexpected
~
sometimes dread lies mostly in the mind… dreaded arrives without much fanfare quietly zipping out equally soft footed…
Both of us have begun feeling tad physically challenged these days while our minds remain whipcord and irresponsible as always…biting more than what can be chewed…
I asked someone “why can’t our bodies remain as fresh and alert as our minds, this morning?” he replied, “Then we’d become all too powerful” which was a vociferous No, No as far as nature of things went..meaning
..in an orderly fashion…
the cycle of birth decay death… yet every ending is a new beginning and I do firmly believe in reincarnation with some carried forward memories which explain the mildly shocking “deja vu” moments in our lives.
wheels under our feet haven’t quite retracted.
honed and ready they are eager to zoom down another airport, in another city touching down another tarmac..
The amount of cities we’ve visited so far makes my head spin 360 like an owl.
Dunno if such hurly burly is good at our age but our minds stay kid fresh while beat up bodies constantly crave shuteye and TLC big time.
I for one, am planning a visit to my masseuse today prior to embarking on our next adventure tomorrow.
Grass simply refuses to grow under our feet
we being those perennial, proverbial ‘out of control’ rolling moss(es)
Tired of our New York weather’s vagaries’ prima donna behavior with vapors and airs … we shall bask in heartwarming company of dear friends happily soaking in mild to red chillies hot west coast.
We’ll revisit some of our favorite spots while refreshing and spit polishing our epic journey few years ago from Coronado to Glacier Natl. park by car up and down California coast with trips to Sonoma Valley wine country, Yosemite and side trips to Grand canyon, good bit of Arizona with wild west Tombstone thrown in…plus an up close and personal brush up with an irate mama bear …
During that west coast trip we’d stayed at Super8 motels mostly owned by Indians named “Patel” where Ganesh had been in his element “haggling” the good old fashioned Indian way and a jolly good laugh had been guffawed by all… we have many heartwarming stories of generosity and goodwill from that trip.
Our wonder at nature never ceases.
Nature never lets us get jaded
may our love affair with nature remain newlywed fresh
without wilting till the end of our time….
~

May 6, 2016..Inner workings
~

where to begin when life/death are continuums and one is determined to hum no matter what…
today I wish to address the uncertain certain sadness that could be a kind of wistfulness lying fallow in heart’s cave.
face values are just that and ‘never judge a book by its cover” can also be true if the author is truly great but lacks marketing acumen….
Sometimes my own serenity and general happiness seem out of place given the plethora of bad news everywhere…should i appear suitably subdued and blighted kind of, somewhat…I do wonder about it….my smiling face does put paid to that occasionally… la di da ..
wicked part of me cackles all the time…. I can clearly see what makes people tick but still accept it for what it is (they) are worth…who am I to judge…being equally or more flawed? hahaha
this is not about shelling out pieces of my mind…simply a casual stroll through the inner working of my cognizant self …
nothing is black and white for me anymore….over time colors have bled into each other and am more comfortable with leeways than high roads….time having suitably put me in my place duly chastised and less exuberant… maybe……am still quite impulsive and bouncy advancing age regardless…
May 17th is the day when my left knee gets replaced …right having already been done… I wonder after both new knees what can I bounce on them?
Curve balls served by life?
well…come on down then…I’ll be ready…and that m’dears is a challenge !

~

May 8th 2016

Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf. ~ Rabindranath Tagore
Born utterly indolent and domestically disabled…when life hurled me into an abyss of responsibility, I was clueless and utterly bewildered
A bookworm with head in clouds playing outdoors when not reading books… that was my world during growing years..
Knowledge of birds and bees and the before afters of pre-teen, teen years were all mystery to most of my generation by and large myself included.

Mom was childlike and kind of “otherworldly” hence asking her was out of question. Only knowledge garnered was from Lady Chatterly’s Lover and from a single closed door class of Miss Lydia at school whom I recall as a ludicrous teacher at best and who left most of us even more confused.

I remember a cute joke where a child tells his mom at school today he’d learnt how to make babies! Obviously the mom is shocked and before she can reach for the phone to call school …the child said, it is really easy mom, all you need to do is change the “y” in word baby to “ies” and you get “babies”
If only life were that simple.
Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark. ~ Tagore
Two leaps of faith : Twice married to total strangers and then transported to “foreign” country… it was like tumbling in the dark… and this is where Rabindranath Tagore comes in…
I have always had “Gitanjali” by Tagore with me and usually could recite it verbatim…nowadays with senior moments ..it is easy to copy paste from the “net”
These words by Tagore gave me stiff upper lip and survival skills when I was fumbling to cope with “hard to crack” situations to subsequently emerge with flying colors…

“Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high, where knowledge is free. Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls. Where words come out from the depth of truth, where tireless striving stretches its arms toward perfection. Where the clear stream of reason has not lost it’s wayinto the dreary desert sand of dead habit. Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever widening thought and action. Into that heaven of freedom, my father, LET MY COUNTRY AWAKE !”
here I was suddenly uprooted and replanted in America, knowing not a single soul, scared out of my wits …maybe not that much but still scared…in the land of the free with a mindset as “bindass” (carefree) as my beloved Bombay … hence nothing could really go wrong I kept consoling myself… plus of course I had one all important “magic” working for me to propel me forward ..
”the fathomless deep love of both parents and our mutual faith in a tiny miracle worker blue god” who has incidentally never left my side…aka my beloved Krishna
I’ve experienced too many unbelievable things and have walked away unscathed from the grim reaper once too many times…
re: Mother’s day … one does one’s best …topmost thing going for a mom is the unabashed overflowing well of love that she has for her child…whether expressed or not despite her admix of successes and failures as a mom… I tried my best too in my own inadequate imperfect way ..
more later….

where_the_mind_is_without_fear_by_ritwik_mango

Fresh legs

This is about our previous regular mailman Billy.
I miss him a lot. He delivered mail on our street for over a decade and I never saw him without his ready Irish smile.
Then over a year ago the powers that be at the post office suddenly decided to change routes of all regular mail persons.
Our Billy too got re-routed.
I ran into Billy a couple of times afterwards and we caught up on our news. Needless to say he was not happy about these changes as he too had invested himself forging many people to people connections and folks on our street looked forward to chit-chatting with Billy on daily basis.
Come Christmas many people left gifts in cash and checks in the mall box for Billy and during winter months they even had hot chocolate and coffee readily available for when he came by.
Billy has only one son who was born physically challenged and both his wife and he devote themselves wholeheartedly in caring for their beloved son. Christmas money came in very handy for his son’s medical care.
I’ve never heard Billy complain about this bum deal that fate had delivered in his lap. He remained cheery all the time. He would even go out of the way to help me carry bags etc. home in case he ran into me thus laden. He’d ignore my nays and continue picking up my stuff.. this is just how Billy was…pure gold inside out.
Today around one o’clock I met the mailman who was a new face. I smiled and commented that he had arrived quite earlier than usual. He told me he was subbing for our new regular mail person and he was what the Post Office called “FRESH LEGS”
The senior mail persons logically then should be termed “STALE LEGS” I suppose.
I told the substitute mailman that I hope his fresh legs weather well without withering… He laughed saying he liked what I said a lot…and then we went our separate ways…

Journal contd.. Fireflies, glowing eyes

FireFliesInForestDeviantArt

“I am but a firefly caught in his jar and when he looks at me, I can’t help but glow.” ~ Kellie Elmore …
in light of this quote… For me it’s mom and dad all the way ..we mutually glowed and basked in “us”
~ ~ ~
and she said, “You don’t say!”
I am left wondering whether this was a robust yea or nay !
plus am still figuring out who said it in my dreams… the figure is hazy as hell.
For past two days my dreams have been peppered with eyes
full of overflowing emotions.
Chasing those eyes with my dreamcatcher reminded me of childhood jars filled with lightning bugs. Often in burgeoning darknesses of late evenings we’d capture a firefly in our tiny white kerchiefs and our childish eyes would goggle up at this marvel of nature…and then we’d gently release them…following their trajectories with “ecstatic eyes”
It did not take much to be content and happy in those days.
I digress… here I want to correlate those eyes chasing my dreams to fireflies of my wonder years in the fifties and sixties. Life was our oyster and we shucked it to our heart’s content.
In a movie I saw yesterday a brother and sister reminisce about what they most recall of their “mom” and both said in unison “she had the happiest of eyes!” After the movie was over I tried to recall what kind of emotions do I recall about those I hold absolutely dear and close to my heart… I was at an impasse.
I recall “sorrowful eyes” of mom the most esp. when I had been bad throwing tantrums about trivial stuff and when she was at the cusp of crossing over at the time of her death. She was full of worry about “unsettled”me and that is why I feel her presence around me all the time. Dad on the other hand had “happy eyes” and he simply loved putting me through my paces physically and mentally.
Mom’s eyes mainly glowed with an otherworldly light as she sang in her off tune voice from the Hindu holy scriptures. Her unworldliness filled us with tenderness for her and a fierce urge to protect her …this role reversal happened early on and that was how maturity crept into our wonder years : imperceptibly… we’ll talk of other eyes later…maybe…perhaps…who knows..
Image : Forest Fireflies: Deviant Art

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