“To perceive is to suffer.” ―
My two year old has been fascinated by “Santa” this year; she describes him as the old man who wears a belt on his big red outfit, and says, “Ho Ho Ho.” So when she spotted an old man in a red tee shirt and a white cotton bordered red hat in the weekend Farmers’ Market, she merrily pointed out, “Santa Santa Santa.”
Continue reading “On stories, on ends, on perceiving”
Motherhood is weird- at one point time seems still even when everything around me including that tiny human that I created is constantly moving. Sometimes I like this stillness, my busy days and nights, two big eyes catching my attention like there is no world beyond her boundary that she drew with an invisible chalk on the day she arrived. Sometimes my mind longs for a randomness, in slow motion. Continue reading “When an image gives you words”
Love, love, love your life, say her lips.
And don’t give up hope
even when the ocean is calm
but you can’t see anything in fog. Continue reading “She tells me how to live”
Outside the rain is
falling down like memory, Continue reading “One day in the rain”
Two feet standing on the hill.
A road zigzagging its way
up to a destination, a hopeful
morning smiling to all greens
after a week of rain.
Well, you got the whole day-
greens everywhere invite you to them. Continue reading “Hillside”
Maybe there are better subjects in world’s curriculum,
but together we talk about colors of saucers
and matching cups half-full of our hopes. Continue reading “Meeting an old friend”
I find you like this,
Exposed to us and the sky,
Silent but excitedly weary. Continue reading “Cold”
I lost my voice due to harsh weather changes in this part of my world. Since my inner world and outer world have a symbiotic friendship I felt I lost my inner voice too.
What do you do when you cannot listen to yourself? Continue reading “Off to honor Wordlessness!”
Sometimes the world looks so surreal that I keep the door of my mind shut for days; as weeks keep marching on to nowhere, clocks keep waking up again after every 12 hours, flakes of happiness appear to clear the cloud around me, I open the door again, to welcome the worldly brightness of honesty and care. Continue reading “A page left on the stage..”