How does one make decisions? What is the process? writing the pros and cons..evaluating them..weighing priorities ..
coming to a conclusion..
but when your brain has tied all the loose ends into a tidy little bow..
and you are feeling mighty pleased about the achievement..
the heart pulls a little nagging string.. at the very edge..
so tiny you don’t see it ..
because that’s the thing with the heart..
it doesn’t like to impose..
it won’t state out loud..
it will be shy ..
it will hope and wait for it’s turn
which we rarely give it..
and then when we don’t..
..it decides to win.
does age reduce creativity?
wanting to write and being able to write are completely different things now..
that wasnt the case.. words would flow.. they would capture me in the oddest of moments.. not necessarily beautiful words or thoughts to move anyone.. but words nevertheless.. they used to be my friends.. my companions in the solitude ..
now they seem to have de-friended me..
age was easiest to blame.. but maybe it is life..
maybe it is getting caught in this trauma of a daily routine..
of running madly..
not having a dream.. or being afraid to have one..
or finding them too hard to accomplish and just burying them in the sand..
now washed away by the tides..
with no time to look for new ones..
Two of my colleagues and now friends in the organization I work with, have year and 3 year old kids. And I was completely bowled over when they shared how they celebrate their kids’ birthdays. The one year old tot had his very first birthday in life a couple of weeks ago and his parents took him to an orphanage, where he gave the kids all sorts of gifts useful for them to go to school and a little party so that they could have one evening of indulgence. Since these kids live on charity and are more often than not starved even for the basics. The joy on the mom’s face as she described the day to us the next morning was unbelievable.
But what I envy most is the legacy her little kid is going to carry with him as he grows up…
After all my grumpiness at the intellectual progress and increasing shallowness of people around me and all that jazz, it was a heartening story that fell in my lap..
it brings a smile, doesn’t it?
PS: tiny little adorable feet, courtesy of my two year old niece Gargi.
there’s a Marathi (my mother tongue) song which goes ‘rakat desha, kankhar desha, dagdanchya desha’..
hard to translate in English but it’s a love song for the land we live in describing it as bold, strong and rocky ..as in literally full of rocks. It takes a special kind of love to describe something as rocky and yet mean it as a compliment.
This image is from the backwaters of a little mud dam located in a village some 100 kms from Pune. The landscape of India is what keeps me rooted here.. Because every time I spend 45 minutes in traffic for a 10 minute distance, get rudely called off by people on the road, face immense amount of resistance to good ideas just because of cultural attitudes or never get work done in public offices, when life is so busy that work days become 12 hour stretches with no time to spare for things I love.. I have to keep reminding myself that there is beauty here. It needs to be unearthed… Under the callous exterior there is tenderness somewhere. The scruffiness is brought upon by circumstance and not by choice. No matter how I hate the everyday life..I still love being here.. It seems to be a hard comparison to make. But how do you decide if you are happy even when days are spent in misery? Probably because at the end of the day, sleep comes with a satisfaction of being at home…
I don’t know.
not sure I’d like to explain why I had disappeared. But now I’m back..hopefully still accepted as before 🙂
I’m copying Kieran today but with a silly poll..
the hectic running around of the past few days is catching up making me feel uninspired and hating all my photos..
burn out seems to be on it’s way again..
i didn’t feel like throwing them away.. so I took a photo.
another saturday and another day that needs to be spent packing. I cannot avoid it this time. 😦
happy weekends everybodies .. have some fun on my behalf too
know the feeling?
if you want to survive, you gotta be tough.
PS: no plums were killed in the making of this shot. If you must know, it was quite delicious.
PPS: If you find this too creepy I blame Dexter. If you like it, I take credit.