life's like that....

Today was the day when our daughter brought to us Her first yield from her pots in our patio.  A handful though  The great mind to toil with few pots of soil To while away the corona fears. It did give us a lot of pleasure To hear her say she's employed now Says that this tiny farming  Has taught great many lessons Of Perseverance, failures and optimism Though all what she could avail Was just little soil, cocopeat and vermicompost in a city we live.

All of a sudden, When the lights are off and the curtain falls; You are suddenly reminded of your exit; Every second spent as a lame-duck    Is a revelation of how time flies. With no roles to play When you fumble on the stage When the made-up face no longer makes any relevance The well-versed script has no effect;   You get dragged by yourself To the green-room of life. Sans costumes, sans roles, sans actions and replays... Out there... You become one in the multitude With no distinctions nor identities. Is it the "Vanaprastha"? A voyage back to nothingness, More glorified with exalted minds and hearts Where valour and triumph no longer matters Where nobody gets defeated nor wounded Where one becomes stoic, In deep surrender to the greatness of nature.

I've started unlearning; Real life needs no theories Lifes' exams are so different. That cannot be taught nor learnt But it needs downsizing. Fitting oneself to everyday chores ... Filling ones time and attention    To priorities held so high in life. Lifes everyday tasks are always forward; Non-linear in every aspect. To be available physically, mentally and emotionally to our dear ones Yet giving each their own space Is indeed a skilful task That every home-maker needs. I'm indeed a novice To full-time house-keeping Where nobody ever masters...

I've now become a free bird Mondays don't haunt me now Neither does Saturdays tire me out Everyday is treasured so well now. There was a time; when my work schedules Were so intensely important Every programme of work; was weighed And measured to perfection With very less time to my own account. Now, my days are sweeter and longer   With no wayward pressures  Nor thoughts of hectic schedules To disrupt my path of serenity.

Something very queer about friendship is that at times it takes place in a very strange way! Accidentally tripping my foot and getting hurt on an iron rod, I couldn't control tears with an excruciating pain on the cut on my big toe-nail. I could realise that my eyes were totally blackening out. All of a sudden I could see a lady holding my hand and offering a seat beside her. Gave me a generous helping of water and helped me out to straighten the situation. We started talking...She was telling about how she was getting acquainted with her metallic knees. I was pretty shocked. Only then did I peer into her face to see an elderly face, with a salt and pepper hue glorifying her crown. The lady told me of her retirement lately which was indeed a new life to her after having worked as a bank manager in one of those nationalised banks. A widow who had a strong married life for thirty-five years and a mother who lives in an empty nest with all her children settled abroad with their fam...

The long waiting hours in the hospital OP veranda were times to ponder about life and it's uncertainties....            Down came a train of memories when I could see an old lady being taken by a wheelchair. The times when we used to take mummy on her hospital visits...Suddenly I saw the old lady pointing out to me and calling me. Was it telepathy? I could sense a shiver down my spine. Without a second thought I ran up to her; the one who was pushing her wheelchair -probably her son who was in his sixties- slowly told me: maybe she's seeing her daughter whom she's lost in you. Because you resemble her. Now that she's suffering from dementia she finds it hard to place people and their memories in the proper order. I could feel the clasp of her hands tightening my arms. I could only hug her tight. A mother who was nobody to me.......but my fifties and having a mother with chronic dementia I could sense a maternal heart.   ...