Love is in the air!

The immense boundary less love, the love which teaches you to love, the love which is the source of all the beautiful feelings in the world is today around me. I sit in my room, looking out in the window and this love is so contagious that it caught me. The atmosphere is clouded by dark excited clouds waiting to pour down its love and affection on the world. The breeze carrying in itself the fragrance of the love travels through me filling me with that energy and a beautiful emotion of giving! An emotion which words fails to express. Maybe that’s why the greatest of musicians had ragas for the weathers because there are times when the words cease to express. But maybe even when the musicians fail to express something, there’s an overflowing feeling in the form of tears. Experience that feeling and you will fall in love. This love is not superficial. It’s not about loving the beauty of nature but it’s falling in love with the soul of the nature. It’s the love with not just the colour of clouds but as they, filled with love and care, glide forward to destroy them to bless the world with a cure of the rain, resurrecting and washing away the sins. It’s not sad about its destruction, but it moves forward dancing and singing and growling in magnificence and dynamism as if waiting to perform its ultimate task, as given by that source of love, the almighty. The process, the cloud knows, will break it and completely disseminate it but this ultimate task of giving, destroying oneself immortalizes the cloud. As the hearts of the millions sing in the downpour of love. As the relief is rendered to the million in agony, the cloud lives again in the love, in the blessings forever.

The ultimate action of love is then performed!

But love is the energy that never ceases to exist it flows in the cool breeze that keeps travelling, passing its emotions and passing its love to every soul whose strings are ready to be strung by the touch of the love.

Love, the ultimate love is in the air, as the almighty readily dissolves its essence in the atmosphere. Let’s see how many of us can open up to be loved.

Alas..

13^th march’12

After months did the thunder strike. After months is the wait coming to an end. I have waited patiently for this day to come. For months I waited, getting strangled at the hands of the human kind while they danced around the bonfire as the flames leapt to engulf my resources and warming themselves with the heat of my agony. But i waited patiently. Sometimes I had to shake the off the anger but I am the mother filled with love and affection for my children, feeding them even if the bit my bosom. But now i had waited long enough and had waited for someone to put out the flames, for a sprinkle to put out the smouldering fire in my heart.

And today after months of yearning I heard the thunder. The sound was like the music of the shankh of Sri Krishna to put an end of my yearning.  I looked up at the sky, my eyes filled with hopes and prayer and there came the tiniest drop of drain. The wait was such that i felt it took ages to fall upon my withering body. But as that drop of vile fell on me, resurrecting my withered old body. I soaked in the drop in my deepest recesses, waiting for it to touch my soul. In a moments time it was raining. My tears of joy overflowed, amalgamating themselves in the rain. The agony was lost. I don’t know what followed next as the rain washed me.

The next i saw were my blossoming flowers, my sprouting buds, the fresh breeze n the fragrance of myself which i had lost. I lived again.

The spring  is here. The time for Resurrection, the time for the old to disseminate and give birth to the new.  The cycle of energy is evident in the environment as to how the life which was once vibrant is now soulless and now lies on the ground to become a part of the Mother Earth, from where it was born.  The cycle is now almost complete, but this is not the end. This is more of a long wave than a cycle. The crest n the trough, n now the rising up of the curve for another crest.But the rise wont be smooth, it has to undergo a churning and a series of experiences when it will finally be filled with the energy to gain a new vibrancy. The seasons are so much like the business cycles  in the economy, where the recession, is followed by the recovery and the boom, again starts the downfall recession, n then comes the depression. But the story, my dear, doesn't end here, it's again followed by the period of the recovery to boom, the spring of the economy, filled with colors and vibrancy. There in it lies the story of  our lives.

I heard you come through the rustling of the leaves.
I saw you watch us from the twinkling stars.
I felt your love us embracing like the atmosphere.
I felt your warmth while I soaked in the sunlight.
I saw you guiding us when the moon hung like a lantern in the sky.
I heard your lullaby in the humming of silent night breeze.
I saw your patience and calm, staring at the ocean.
I saw your shadow in the sunset into the sky.
I see you day in and day out as the essence of everything that happens.

My fears of the life in a metro

It was early morning 8 a.m. when I was crossing the over bridge, but here in Delhi, unlike my hometown- where this’ a time where you could hear mothers screaming at their kids to get up and go to school, family members chit chat with a cup of tea in hand, milk man, news paper boy and all the disrupting elements come to knock at the doors, beggars increase the liveliness of the streets by singing some hymns in their ‘not-so’ melodious voice, but here in Delhi there  is a never ending rush of the milling crowd, all racing in a never ending race, a race of corporate workers to meet their business targets, a race of stockers to grab the maximum, a race, a rush.. which can drive a sane person crazy…. this city never sleeps. But to me it’s more of a dead alive, a soulless city, with no respect for emotions of people.

Anyway getting back to my 8 a.m. incident, my eyes rested on an old lady asking people to help her cross the road and drop her to some nearby area since she wasn’t able to take care of her body, suffering of an unavoidable disease ‘old age’. In an instant my small-town instinct took over and i hastened my pace to help the old lady who was becoming a constant prey to people’s ignores and sometimes rebukes but some invisible force held me back and some pictures which my own imagination had formed after listening to my friend’s story were being flashed on my retina by my intelligent but not so sensitive brain.

Last night she had recited the real life incident of her office mate’s cousin, who was on the way back home after a long tiring day from office. On the way she was stopped by an old lady who pleaded her to drop her at her home. She made her sit in the car and on approaching a not so crowded road, the old lady took out a knife and snatched away all that the girl had, some jewelry and money and injured her hand. The girl somehow reached home in a pathetic condition and has been in a state of shock since then. My friend also warned not to be carried away by my favorite hobby of helping people.

I was confused and unable to decide. My not-so sensitive head was arguing with my not-so intelligent heart. It seemed to me more like a fight between my home-town morals n my work city’s practicality and eventually the logical and practical ‘me’ won and the morally sound ‘me’ lost.

My pace was back to normal and so was my heartbeat which had shot up due to a sudden rush of adrenaline. I turned around and made my way back to the station where I had wait to get my train. The crowd of millions made me lose sight of that lady but I could not lose the guilt that now haunted me. The whole day in office was a mess, with a capital ‘M’. I just couldn’t concentrate on work and couldn’t even expose my fear to the highly practical metro city people for whom my thoughts would be worthless or some attention seeking device. It wasn’t their fault, this negativity and selfishness had crept into their blood now.

After the long tiring day, still carrying the load of guilt on my back, I reached back home but with no want or need to eat anything, I changed and climbed onto the bed, with a million questions poking my head, what if the lady was genuine? What if it’s the big city’s lifelessness and selfishness was overcoming my home town’s selflessness and morality? What if the hollowness of the city had engulfed the real me? What if I was becoming another wandering soul of the dead city? ..... With all these questions driving me crazy I slept off to be a part of the night’s slumber of this always awake yet dead city…