Small Sagas #2

A little patience can put things into perspective.

There had always been sights we had wished to foresee,

With fickle minds that never understood, we took measures quickly.

So when we were young, we forced giants into the sea,

Where they became only mountains of the gentle things they used to be.

Night Lights

There is more to astronomy than just a lesson in physics.

Procrastination, I suspect, is soon going to be added on to the list of those seven deadly sins, increasing the tally to a total of eight. So what is a sin exactly? I mean, how much should an act have to fall for it to be considered what the dictionary defines as- breaking a "moral law". I feel it may be perceived by an individual as a guilt inducing activity. 

And let us just agree that losing weight, or becoming ‘fitter’ as some may choose to call it, is something that at least forty percent of the world’s population vouches for in the name of a New Year resolution. A resolution that is so irresolutely broken in the days that soon follow. In the midst of a sincerely hectic schedule, all my activities had unconsciously centered themselves around my table. I had lost my morning exercise routine to something that required greater attention. Naturally, my physical activity had been reduced to almost nothing. And of course, with the continued intake of the heavenly delights promised by a rich Indian home-made meal, I ended up shamelessly putting on a few extra kilos.

With some major papers done and dusted, I decided to kick start the the rickety old scooter that my exercise schedule had become. But the key to that scooter was nowhere to be found. And I was one hundred percent sure that they had been hidden by the wily elf that procrastination is.

Then after a few words of what I can safely call "advice" from from my mum, I went outside for a post dinner stroll in the neighborhood street.

It felt different, slightly, but different.

I saw the light from the street lamp filter through the very tree that had been a plant-let some odd eleven years ago. I was amazed as the shadows shifted shapes, while the branches waltzed in the wind. The rays of light as they screened through the spaces, were like spotlights, lighting the path of every little arthropod as they scurried around aimlessly. The tiniest bits of silica lay mingled with the dust all around, reflecting this radiation; giving the illusion of an embellished saree draped so very wonderfully on a bride on her most special day.

The cricket synchronized its chirping with the honking of distant cars somewhere close by. I could have sworn he was attempting to recreate a concerto with one of Beethoven's symphonies. The only thing that had been missing from the picture was a sky full of stars. No description of the night is ever complete without their mention. And so I shifted my gaze towards the hazy dark sky, but they were nowhere to be found. I roamed around in circles, front-stepped, back-stepped, side-stepped and even stepped over the pavement. I was wrong in thinking that becoming a foot taller may prove to be helpful.

You see, that's the thing about city skies. Unless you are some astronomy enthusiast who knows a thing or two about where to look and how to look, everyday people like me find it difficult to find those glowing orbs that float far away. The pursuit for momentary happiness all in vain.

I want to see a sky full of stars. The colossal nothingness glorified in movies. The same stars that are beautifully described in endless piles of books. The glittery skies that have had countless songs written about them. The iconic stars that each Disney fairy-tale wakes up to. The prudent stars that have guided our kind since times unknown. The dazzling stars that weave fascinating patterns, we have come to call constellations. The suffering stars that are no longer visible in these concrete jungles, shrouded in the ghastly blanket of black and strangling smoke. The bright stars that once used to light up these nights. These obscured stars that have gone somewhere in hiding.

I want to see a clear sky that accompanies me on nights such as these, when I am out for a stroll. Something to distract me, something to escape into, while I run away from these tragic kilos.

Distance

Focal adjustment helps.

When nothing seemed fitting and right anyway

The once confident feet began to sway

Time and time again the yearning would begin

For all pre-conceived notions had started to spin

In the pale of midnight, I tried to take flight

But my wings were too weak and the stars too bright

So I waited a week till the winter winds blew

Stars were shrouded in clouds and the moon was too

A warm sensation then overcame my being

Fighting to keep these temperatures roaring

Not a thing alive witnessed my wings unfold

As my breath grew quick and my heart grew bold

And soon I was soaring, oh upwards and on

Till the sky was all around, and the ground was gone

And I watched as each object, each person, each place

Became one glowing orb spinning slowly in space

From such unfathomable heights I began to wonder

Would falling be rough, or should I already surrender

And I thought to myself through the eyes of a bird

This life and this earth seem entirely absurd

Then suddenly I felt indescribably small

And wondered if anything mattered at all

Like what people wished for or what people felt

Or whether the icecaps would finally melt

Then I realized after an hour or two 

That things matter because they matter to you

Although what you do won’t change much from up here

It can comfort or crush those you find yourself near

This universe may be enormous and strange

But look close to home there’s much you can change

And now that I know it, That’s just what I’ll do

Informed and enthused by my new point of view

It seems that such questions as grand as existence

Can only be solved from a reasonable distance.

Look close to home there is much you can change.

Capture Credits - Kriti Prabhakar :)

PS - Check out Miss Photographer's page at https://www.facebook.com/kritip.photography !

Small Sagas #1

The Chronicle Of a Cold Chapatti

The flour and the water were feeling very cold,

so they huddled together in a mixing bowl.

The bone chilling winds weren't deterred by their agglutination,

so the mix flattened and found its way to the hot iron nation.

The whole process so wonderfully put together by +Ameya Jain :D

The Snow Storm

A blanket of snow provides a special kind of warmth.

I can remember all of it since the moment I have started having memories.

My past is so clear to me.

I couldn't forget anything even if I tried.

Sometimes I hate that I am this way, born with a mind that burns all memories indelibly into my brain.

They pile up one after another, these memories, as vivid as the day they were made.

However, there is one event...one fleeting moment in time that, try as I may, I just cannot recall.

I have struggled so often to bring it back to my consciousness, but the closer I feel to it, the farther it slips away.

A short dialogue with my mother...at a small park on a snowy day...I can remember the beginning and then it is gone.

“Mama, what’s that?”

“Why, it’s snow.”

Then the image fades into static white.

Like I am inside a cloud.

Like the whole world is a snow storm.

"It's cold. Cold and tingly. What is it?"

"It's called Snow."

"Snow?"

"That's right, snow. A present from the heavens."

"You mean from God?"

"Yes dear, every winter he covers the trees with it. When winter arrives, the trees and grass grow brown and lonely. Well, God sends down snow to cover that up. He makes the entire world glow, like a bed of silver roses. When life gets difficult, don't let it hurt you. Just hide for a little while...until they thaw...in a world of beauty and light."

"Mama, why are you crying?"

"Listen to me child, you need to be strong to make it in this life. You can't be a weakling like me, you have to be...oh dear, your hands are so cold. Give them to me, I'll warm them up."

There it is. That forgotten memory. My mother she took my hands in hers... and they had a warmth of their own.

That's all.

I wonder why I couldn't remember.

Such deep warmth.

Such an inner warmth.

Her warm caring hands.

Yes, I now remember how they felt on that snowy silvery morning.

So soothing. So reassuring.