Thoughts of a Frosty Friday

Love is easily found in food. Easily lost, when it reaches your gastric juice bag. Easily salvaged, with a good burp.

We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lives.

It's easy.

The first thing I ever loved was a little pup I used to feed biscuits to, each day on my way to play school. He would follow me every morning. He would make me happy because he would remind me of the girl who had a lamb follow her to school.

The last person I will love will be someone I haven't even met yet, probably.

They all count.

But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are some of the most important people in your life, and you'll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of eighty years.

But there is still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these lovable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they're often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone.

But that person still wins.

They win and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.

Small Sagas #5

Memoirs of a Fallen Punk

It had been quite a while,

That the curtain had been hanging around.

So it unhooked itself in style,

And lay peacefully on the ground.

Small Sagas #5

Thought Provoking Lines

This is oddly cute.

Certainty

Quick and new resolves continue to surprise me.

Roma is an 8 year old girl I met during a volunteering program for a mid-day meal scheme, at a nearby school. She was responsible for lining up the girls of her class for the meals to be served that day.

An overly enthusiastic and chirpy kid, she happily went about her chores; making sure everyone from her class had collected their plates and food, before she sat down to eat.

I too, sat close by, perplexed, as I saw the little girls chat away to glory and laugh endlessly on the silliest of jokes. Every now and then, a pair of eyes would drift towards the containers of food by the volunteers' side, only to return back to the plates that were seemingly empty by now,

And then very courageously did our little Roma walk up to me and ask for a second serving.

The timid yet profoundly bold utterance of the word "Didi" (elder-sister) worked like a signal to the others in the group. And soon several girls were approaching us for another serving.

The entire incident played clearly in front of my eyes, resonating to soundly with another one right out of a Dickens' novel. Only, today the circumstances were different. But one thing that remained congruent was the spirit these little brave-hearts had shown.

A simple but sure step had made the day a memorable one for certain!

Wandering Words #4

Of Winds and Laughter

All he needed was freedom.

The winds had picked up

And the sails had caught the breeze

Taking notice of the commotion

He ran to the porch with much ease

It had been quite a while

Since he had stepped out into the garden

For the lifeless abiotic component

had finally come to beg his pardon

Days of sun baked toil had

Reaped him a great harvest

It was time for the rains to arrive already

It was time for him to rest

From deep within his happy heart

Came the sound of the heartiest laughter

Only because his dreams had come true

His happily ever after

Confined freedom.
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