Memories...


''Our body remains alive,
yet sooner or later our soul receives a mortal blow...
The perfect crime - for we don't know who murdered our joy....
She smiles at the pain that followed...
the lie that she lived through..
She lets her mind wander through the endless dreams and the path
that led to the lost memories.... ''

                                                            The bells…

Sound…. A five word wonder, an echo of all things around us. Each sound in the world has its own tale to open to us. The rustle of the leaves, the flutter of a butterflies wings and trickling of the dew drops in a silent desolate wood. Ever heard the clamour of the traffic, so loud, so busy, that it becomes difficult to distinguish one sound from the other. The chiming of the church bells in the silent night….taking you away to a far- away land.

Human relations are a lot like these sounds, each having its own tale to tell, with its complexity and difficult to be described in mere words. These sounds can be heard, yet to explain it to a person, words fall short. Not because, you are unaware of the nuances a relation has, but its notes are so evolved and complex that each aspect has a new facet, to be honed and developed.

It was the due to the sound of her laughter, bright and beautiful like the chiming bells, soothing that her grandpa called her bells. Probably the best friend she could ever have, the soulmate who not only was a great story-teller but the partner in her smallest crimes: a child’s heaven. More than her parents it was him she grew up to be close to. A beautiful friendship grew between them, that which defies time, an age.

He was the one she went to when she had her first heartbreak, he was there to support her as she struggled to make a mark in her profession. He stood and watched teary eyed as the man of her dream whisked her away into a new world. She got so engrossed in her life gradually that she didn’t even realise that the tme when her grandpa, her best friend was about to go drew near. And then he was gone.

Her life moved on, each day a new experience, each relation a new blessing. But now no one called her bells. Her life though perfect, was a void in itself, that which could not be filled up by any other relation. And then she discovered  the most beautiful experience of being a mother. This was the time that she started missing her grandpa even more. She felt that this was one transition in her life that she wanted her best friend, her grandpa to be around her.

Time passed and the void lived on.

Until one day, when suddenly amused by the antics of her 3 year old son she laughed out aloud, and her son pulled her hand and said,

“Mommy, you sound just like the church bells.’’

                                                               

Second chances

At times all we want in life is a second chance….A chance to fulfil our dreams, a quest to live happily or a search to be fulfilled,, And we spend our days looking for that one perfectly defined moment which we designate as the second chance. But can 1 second chance be enough to redefine our existence- to mould ourselves into a completely new and different individual …or is it just the illusion of starting a fresh journey that seems to cast its spell. Such were the thoughts that echoed in her mind, whenever it was time to part. For her , the few moments which they stole each day to be together seemed more of a resurrection for her.

She spent her hours toiling through the day thinking of those moments of perfect bliss, eagerly waiting for the reunion even though she knew that those moments wouldn’t last forever….such was the nature of things….. Their love boasted of companionship and glory witnessed by all. But what they lacked were the moments of being together. What made the wait worthwhile was the moment of intense passion they shared. It was almost time for him to come and already her anxiety knew no bounds…..

There he was – as strong as ever… she waved to him eagerly, ready to crumble up into his widespread arms… She could feel the warmth gradually seep into her skin. The bliss of being caressed by her loved one lasted for a few moments …which gave her a new birth and then he was gone..

Another day stretched before her… A new one- where she waited for the second chance to be with him. Such was the sweet agony that the shoreline was subjected to each day, as the night dawned in, waiting for a new day …

Her second chance…!!!

Language in itself is such a beautiful and powerful tool to express. Sometimes we come across situations that we try to grope for that one perfect word that could encompass the entire panaroma of the things we see, the emotions we feel and certain situations which can only be experience. One such beautiful word I came across the other day is Saudade. A word of Portuguese origin that describes love that disappeared (Metaphorically). The word has an interesting origin in that it was used originally to refer to the people who went out to war or to the sea and never came back. How would you know if they died or were lost. A simple word to encase that feeling of longing, of despair and the at the same time of a hope to meet the lost people.
The ache for those who were lost from their families, led to a constant feeling of sadness- of absence- coupled with a paradoxical joy derived from acceptance of fate. In our lives we often encounter such situations where people who meant the world to us gradually drift away, yet no day passes when their thoughts or the memories do not cross our minds,
I wonder if the loss is pervasive or just a matter of time...



Sriparna
August 3.
more about the word :

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saudade

                              '' On Love and Destruction''

She loved dancing to the tune of the rain drops. Her most delicate movements revealed themselves when it rained and the wind gently caressed her. The fire in her soul burned brighter each time she gave herself in to the ecstasy of the raindrops. Whenever the wind rose, she could feel a slight tremor in her heart: one that threatened to resonate and redefine her existence. Such was the love she felt for the rains. But as they say that when you love something, you entitle it with the possibility of your own destruction. It at times becomes a game of life and death; and it’s just a matter of time when your soul or existence is wiped off. She often wondered why is it that people consistently are allured by ideas or for situations which we know are poison for our existence. But each day when she felt the flame in her soul burn brighter, she still wanted to dance in the rain. Such was the love between the flame and the rain…..

Sriparna
29th July 2015

           

                      ‘’The downfall ’’

The fun filled morning, the chaos of the new journey to be taken up. Everyone seemed so happy, the air was filled up with the excitement and the nervousness that seemed contagious. So many people came to see her off. She was indeed undertaking a great journey, one that was to carve a niche for itself in the world history, for years to come. She stood proud, beaming with happiness at the overwhelming gestures of the people around her. She thought to herself, ‘’I will be the best they have seen. People would be glad to associate themselves with me one day.’’ Her name itself signified colossal, out of the world and she was determined to live upto her namesake.

And amidst all this chaos her journey began.

The day was beautiful and bright. She saw the children around her frolicking around, happy and gay. The couples were so much in love, enjoying the beautiful day, lazying around. Each moment she felt that this was one day that each of them would cherish forever. She had a gleam in her eyes, and she could see the Irish coast as far as her eyes could sink in. She drank the depths of the ocean around her. As night fell, the beautiful stars took her breath away, she felt this was an experience of a lifetime. One that nothing could ever erase out from her memory. She stood and let her mind sail away, thinking of the time that she had taken to get ready for this trip. Years of hard-work flashed in front of her eyes and she felt that this time nothing could go wrong.

It was her fourth night at the sea, when she suddenly felt a huge jerk. She felt the life go out of her limbs, but believed that everything would be fine. She had been just struck suddenly and once the shock was over she could go back to enjoying the peaceful night.

Only, even though she though herself to be well prepared, the blow was more than it seemed. It ripped off the life from her. All her dreams went crashing, she saw in front of her eyes how chaos spread gradually and she could no longer keep herself calm. People whom she thought of friends, gradually gave up hope of her recovery and left her to die. She felt suffocated, seeing her dream collapse, crashing down, but it was too late to do anything. She felt it was utter injustice, being so close to finally realizing her dream, she wasn’t ready to let go of everything. She wanted to fight back, to stay, to make it to the other part of the world: one that was waiting eagerly for her, the one that had yet to see her success story.

But alas all her dreams sank, and so did she. Little did she know that even years later she would be hailed as one of the most enigmatic downfall of all. One that reached its zenith but could not eventually survive that fateful journey.

Her remains lie even today waiting to be disinterred from the deep slumbers of wrecks of time; waiting for her story to be told.

There-in lies Titanic, the greatest ship of all, with the unfulfilled dreams still remembering the day she stood proud and tall. 

Sriparna

26th July 2015

 The defeat.

The familiarity of the landscape scared her. All around her she saw familiar faces trying to protect her. The fear of losing them yet again to his attacks made her paranoid. She wasn’t afraid of being beaten up by him, again, but the horror of losing all the warriors who had stood by her during the golden days was something she couldn’t afford to accept.

As she saw him advance gradually her worst nightmares started to haunt her. The way he moved, holding his head high and the pride in his each movement reflected a challenge in itself. She had tried hard to understand his motives, all through these years, but still felt that she had been unable to decipher his thoughts. Numerous times she had been beaten up by him, and each time the horror and shame had been worse than before and here he was ready to put her through the humiliation yet again. She cursed her stars that each time she had let herself to be deceived by his smile, his perfect ease which made her so comfortable that she had let her guard down, only to be exposed to the harsh cruelty.

Before she had the chance to recover he broke through her defences and stood before her, smiling, challenging her to fight back. She looked around to see that the she had already lost so many soldiers, yet she wasn’t ready to give up. She was determined to defeat him in this war. It was a matter of moments before he overpowered her. She was angry, humiliated, yet decided not to give up. She had won all her wars before she met him. It seemed he was always a step ahead of her.

This time it didn’t hurt that much.

She got up slowly and put the chess board away, determined to beat him, the next time at the game he had beautifully mastered. 

Sriparna

13th July 2015.

                                                               ''The pride in her eyes''  
     

                                                                  

Pride.

A word that is mostly misunderstood is pride. The distinction between pride and ego is so fine and nebulous that it often leads to a misnomer. How different is pride from ego? And what is it that pride is treated as a mark of dignity and respect and ego treated as a feeling of narcissism.

A woman takes pride in the strength of her character. She stands up for her faith and her ability to love inspite of all odds. She is not afraid to dream, she is not unwilling to go beyond her limits for the people she loves and cares for. This is her pride, her strength: one so strongly imbibed into her being that she knows that nothing in the world can break down her spirit. Her eyes reflect her honour, her confidence. Her smile makes the world believe that her life is free from all troubles. People think she is at the pinnacle of happiness, even though she might be struggling even to sustain for a second longer. It’s her pride that she goes through everything with a smile and never lets it break her spirit.

On the other hand ego places the sense of self-importance at the supreme. Even a slight tremor in the form of suffering might be enough to vandalise the entire existence into question. A woman who disguises her ego as self- respect can never be yielding in love. She does not understand the ability to place her relations, her so loved people before her. All she needs a feeling of supreme existence, of being above all she knows and love and perhaps this helps her go through the cycle of life.

But thinking back, can ego give a sense of spiritual fulfillment as strong as pride does. Pride is something that cannot be described by mere words. Her stance, her movements, her thoughts , everything is a reflection of the pride her soul carries. She is unwilling to compromise on things that might otherwise be not so significant to the others. But that’s her pride. This stays strong.

Till she meets the one person for whom she is willing to let go of her pride.  The one who melts away all her resolves, and perhaps her ability to reason with her own self. Before she even realizes she is irrevocably in love, a feeling so strong and intense that she finds herself completely consumed by it. She believes in the kind of love that drives her to the point of insanity, all she can think of is the ways how beautiful her life has come to be. She feels like a free bird, a free spirit. Her pride gets strengthened, moulded by the fire of love and passion.

Perhaps she is so consumed by the feeling of being in love that she fails to recognize the exact moment when her dream starts slipping away. Away into the infinite sky, gradually, slowing, creeping away before she can even hear its fading footsteps. Her pride woudn’t have let her question the fading dream, that why it chose to break. But here’s one time that she doesn’t hold onto the most important part of her life- her pride. She lets it to be broken.

Again and yet again.

Frantic, she questions only to be met with silence. Her pride would have never allowed her to be treated this way, anything to demean her. She would have walked away, yet she chooses to stay.

That’s the strength of pride. She chooses to wait, even when she watches her pride melt away from her eyes. Into the barren soul.

Waiting for the rains, waiting to be complete again. 

Sriparna
7th July 2015

At times its wonder and at times its just a wistfulness..... Nature never fails to impress.....
" After love and fear there's pride...
After tears the silent night...
after memories- the dream..of waiting for the elixir of life.... "