Saturday, September 8, 2018

A hot mug of coffee

This week this is what my BFF and I chatted about during our usual Saturday night chit chat and catch up. It is not a full story, but just a passage that we came up with.

A mug of hot coffee in hand, they sat there just taking in the silence around them. Neither had any energy left. Both of them were so exhausted with the events of the past few days, it all just seemed never ending. The hurried conversations, dealing with doctors, administering medicines, keeping worried family members informed and appraised of the situation in hand. Even taking in a breath of air seemed like extra effort. But perseverence does pay off, and their father  had responded to the treatment and was getting better. Since the situation was getting back under control, it was now time to prioritise the next set of action items. The first and foremost of them was to take a deep breath in peace, without a thought of what to do next, no explanations, no appraisals. A hot mug of coffee in hand, the aroma spiraling around the face. A space in thoughts, like the space after a sentence in an essay. There was still a lot to do, a gazillion items screaming for attention the next morning. But tonight, this night, this moment was theirs. To breathe. To live. To love. To recharge. 

Sunday, September 2, 2018

Life's Calling - Seema's turn around

At this moment, I am super tired and super sleepy. But post the birth of my son, I have developed insomnia - I cant sleep even if I want to, I find it very hard to calm down and go to sleep. The past two days have been tough with a festival coming up (read that as celebration, but also back breaking additional work that usually is borne by one person in the household) and my son suddenly falling sick with high fever 3 days ago (read that as waking up every hour or so to check on him and figure what is causing him to be uncomfortable) - all this translates to aggravated insomnia.

Anyway, I digress. As usual it is Saturday night, and I am up, unable to sleep, while the rest of the household is in deep slumber. Loneliness hits the hardest at such times. So I turned to my best friend, i.e my blog to see what we could chat about. I was going through my writing logs and found a piece that would be a good share on the blog. It is a fictional story.  So here goes -

Seema's turn around

Life had brought her to this stage where a lot of things did not matter any more. What mattered was how she would progress in the pursuit of her passion. She was done doing things that 'had' to be done, for the sake of perceived happiness. Obstacles or no obstacles, she had reached a point in her mind where there will be sanity only along the path of the real pursuit. Any step not contributing to her pursuit only seemed like a breath wasted on the planet. Perhaps this is what people called as life's calling. Life had been calling out to her for quite a while, but the rat race of life kept diverting her path in some other direction. But no more. There was only one way forward now, and that way was along the path of her passion.

Seema had never felt her spirit come alive so much. She had always been accomodative of the needs and wants of the people around her, in the hope that when it would be her turn, people would be as accomodative. But that day never came. So much so, such was her state that the very people for whom she made some radical choices in education and career, they had moved on in life and now had no time or attention to give her anymore. They were back to grappling with their life. 'You must do it for me' they had said. It struck her only now that in saying so, they were living and executing the mission of their life, not hers. That she was the only one who would end up taking a stand for her - For a person of Seema's nature, it was a jolt to realise that she was not going to get any reciprocation from any of the people around her. Zero.  Zilch.

Sometimes in life, the toughest of the situations are actually the catalysts that take you to where you should have gone in the first place. And that was what was happening to Seema as well. This was the perfect cleansing of distractions that Seema's life needed.

Without another thought, she decided to pursue her hobby of story telling for children. There were so many parents today who are stuck in the rut of a 8am - 7 pm job that they cannot spend time with their children even if they want to. Someone to give quality time to their children would most certainly be welcome.

Days passed into years, and stories flowed like perennial rivers, triggering awe and imagination in the young minds that they irrigated. Seema came to be known as the pied piper in the playschools around her house. Fifteen years later, a young man walked into her session at a local children's library. "Mam, I learnt the value of paying attention to the person speaking to me through your session, thank you for being there for me. You are the mother figure I needed during those dull afternoons when my own mother could not be there for me" he said. When had Ms Seema become Kahaniyon ki Jadugar, she hadnt realised. "I want you to tell similar stories to my nephew who is going to join a daycare nearby.." he continued as Seema came back from her trance. "Aap usko bhi kahaani sunaayenge naa?" He gleamed, "Maine bhaiyya ko bataaya hai aapke baareme"

As this young man spoke, she was transported to the moment when her father was sitting in front of her with that stern look, "Kahaaniyon se sirf khayaali pulao pakaaye jaa sakte hai, asli pulao nahi. Kuch dhang ka karo, yaa fir rehne hi do, tumse kuch na ho payegaa" these words were echoing in her head again today. "Haa paapa, you were right, khayaali pulao se pet nahi bhar sakta but these stories can sure nurture and nourish the hunger of imagination and creativity!"  Your passion will pave the way for itself. That was her life's lesson.

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