Soul Murmurs

How do you do that? “, she asked him in wonder.

Do what?“,he looked at her quizzingly.

You just said what I was about to say, the exact same words“, she exclaimed!!

Oh that!!.Don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.

He then adjusted his voice and told me “I have this powerful weapon with me to make a connection with the soul of the every person I meet.It’s not their thoughts in the head or the words of their heart but the real murmur of the soul.” His charming laughter broke my thoughts.

***

I am not ready, yet“, he said.

At that moment she knew, she had lost him forever.

No, please don’t.Those are not the words my soul is trying to tell you.”,she murmured.

***

So ? ” she asked.

I think, no… I know, I have been a stupid to listen to my ego than my soul when it told me to hold on to you.Though I boasted about making a connection to people’s soul’s I could not connect to my own.I am sorry….I really am“, he said apologetically.

Oh that’s okay, it happens“.She dismissed him.

She wondered if he could hear her soul now, after all these years…

***

 

Courtesy : Google Images / http://purplecyanidediamond.deviantart.com/art/if-you-walk-away-every-day-it-ll-rain-287273535

 

In response to the  Friday Reflections: “The shattering of a heart when being broken is the loudest quiet ever.”
― Carroll Bryant

 

Vellichor…A tale of books

 

On seeing my first salary credited to my account, I knew exactly what I wanted for myself.Of course, apart from spending it on sweets and wishes of my family, I kept it aside to buy books.I was spellbound on thinking the huge number of books I can gather when every month I get such a big amount.Books that were unaffordable until that time, books that I had to keep away thinking about “do_you_really_need_it_now ?” look from my dad, books that contained stories which I had only imagined.How naive was I to believe that I could buy a whole of them with my meagre income!!. and was very sad and surprised to realise that many of books are still elusive for me.

Books that were unaffordable until that time, books that I had to keep away just after reading the blurp so that I dont need to answer “do_you_really_need_it_now ?” look from my dad, books that contained stories which I had only imagined.How naive was I to believe that I could buy a whole lot of them with my meagre income!!. I became very sad and surprised to realise that many of books will still elusive for me.

It was around that time that I had a need to buy some entrance books for my brother.Though I insisted on buying new and fresh books, he was quite reluctant to pay such exorbitant price for them.He was the one who urged me to check out the famous Moore Market, the heaven for second-hand books at Chennai.So there I was all prepped for taking the long journey to the northern end of Chennai, on a hot sultry summer day to check out Moore market.It was there I found a whole new world of second-hand books.I had already known about the cheaply available used books but I must admit that I was an egoist to buy them.I always wanted to buy a new book and have it all to myself.

Reluctantly I decided to look for some of the books available in that old, woody and dingy cubicles. I was bit apprehensive but I admit that I got carried away by the love for books.I quickly found some gems in quite a bad shape but for such low prices that I just could not ignore them.I told myself, it the stories that matter and not the cover or the book as such.

Well, I quickly had to change my opinion.I have had books whose margins had a totally different story to tell.Those scribbled letters some of which I could not decipher had taken a toll on my sleep.I also found mostly bills, exam schedules even some torn 10 rupees to luckily a 100 rupee nullifying the cost of the book, tucked away in the covers.I am not sure how the sellers missed it :).

Somehow I had fallen in love with those second-hand books in that dingy old place.You just have to have some patience, some love and some good bargaining skills to get hold of some of the great books.Though I don’t know why people throw away books, I came to realize that one needs to part with their dear stories when they have to move on to share and find newer stories.

When moving out of Chennai, even I had to pass on my collection of books, which I want to believe will be adorning the shelves of a bibliophile.Even though I have started buying books from those the huge library kind of air conditioned book stalls, searching for books among the categorized places and not look at others or simply buy one at the click on internet or use a kindle, I still long to skim through the huge collection of old books and then stumble upon a totally different book,then bargain with the seller on how unworthy the book is and its good that you get rid of it 😉 and then finally sit and read the same.

Bliss!!

Quietus

 

That dawn,
among stars
I was,
someone’s angel
Under the blanket, 
of pure love
I drift to a,
beautiful slumber
Suddenly ,
I suffocate
I envisage,
I am
Inside the cocoon,
of my sadness 
And slowly,
 I die…
***

That Stanchion Voice…

“Honey, I will there in like 5 minutes.Just, keep going”.

“And I know you can do this even if you are alone.In fact, you can go on and win anything in life without me. Just be you, coz you are my pride !!”

Amy, listened to her husband Jake’s voice one more time before being ushered to receive the “Best Entrepreneur of Year Award”.

    ***

That last message from Jake, in his sweet pleasant voice, had kept Amy going all these years.That last message gave her the courage to embrace life, raise their daughter, start her business and reach the pinnacle of her life.

***

 

 

A missing part…

          “No matter, how much ever I try to affix the piece of me, you had returned there is always a missing part….a lacuna, an iota of me which springs to life on your memories and dies away in a despair, ironically at the same moment.”

                     ***

Kairos….

The first ray of morning sun…

The perfect pitch of the singing bird…

The aimless touch of rain on your skin…

The sinking of feet when waves retreat…

The smell of your pink garden rose…

The proposal that ends with a “Yes”…

The first kiss in a fleeting moment…

The cry of your newborn…

The hearty laughter of your love…

The hugs and kisses from you grandparents…

The pride in your parent’s eyes…

The moment you decide to love yourself…

If you really look around, you realize how privileged you are !!

Em and Big Hoom

Em and the Big HoomEm and the Big Hoom by Jerry Pinto

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

When you go to a home, you knock and wait for someone from the home to open the door and let you in.There is a certain premise to enter the home, make oneself comfortable and then have a chat.And when it’s finally time to part, you might or might not have understood the reality of that home or the family.But that was not the case with Em and Big Hoom.

When I started reading this book, I was literally put in the middle of the lives of Em, Big Hoom and their family. I felt warm and welcomed to their home.Not one time did I feel I was not a part of their family.I literally lived and breathed with them.

I felt the burning and suffocating smell of beedis in my eyes and nose.I understood the bits and pieces and was able to read in between the lines from Em’s talks.I felt ashamed at the same time intrigued at her adult talks.I felt the silent, yet the roaring presence of Big Hoom.I sensed the tender love between these folks.I could hear all the thoughts of em for endless hours.I also shivered when she tried to let go of her life.And I was part relieved and a part sad when she finally left.I knew I was somewhere becoming the shadow of the narrator, who has poured his hearts out!

Our mothers are very dear to us.She somehow has been bestowed with the power of holding all the members of the family.Now, it’s very scary situation if something happens to such a strong link.And even scarier if it related to being mentally disabled.Imelda, aka Em, is one such person, who slowly and at times looses the grip of reality.

‘After you were born, someone turned on a tap. At first it was only a drip, a black drip, and I felt it as sadness. I had felt sad before . . . who hasn’t ? I knew what it was like. But I didn’t know that it would come like that, for no reason. I lived with it for weeks.’

‘Was there a drain?’

‘No. There was no drain. There isn’t one even now’.

‘It is like oil. Like molasses, slow at first.Then one morning I woke up and it was flowing free and fast. I thought I would drown in it. I thought it would drown little you and Susan. I got up, got dressed and went out onto the road and tried to jump in front of a bus. I thought it would be a final thing, quick like a bang.  Only,it wasn’t.

I don’t know if there is any better way of defining depression.It’s akin to drowning in one’s sadness, though we don’t want to be drowned and we know how to stop oneself from being drowned but yet, yet simply could not help but sink down.That’s depression.

And how can one forget Augustine, the Big Hoom ?. When there are people who simply choose to stay out of trouble by avoiding ill people from their lives, here a man who stays and fights for a normal life.His love for Em, cannot be said in words.It can be known only from the heart.

“Love is never enough. Madness is enough. It is complete, sufficient unto itself.”

Such a brilliant portrayal of a dysfunctional(?) family amongst us describing the vivid emotions and the broken thoughts of a depressed, bipolar, suicidal mother but more importantly reading this book showed me the difficulties, that sort of numbness and the absence of normalcy in the lives of the caretakers of these mentally ill people.

I wonder if one day, I fall as hard as Em, will I be lucky enough to be surrounded by folks like Em’s family?

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