Kyun chahta hai kisi ko bepanha ye dil
Kyun dhoondta hai kisi ko biti hui yaadon mein ye dil
Kyun rahta hai mithi khawabon ke aagosh mein ye dil
Kyun khud se bhi zyada chahta hai kisi ko ye dil
Kyun tootne ke dard se bhi nahi darta hai ye dil
Kyun bar bar toot kar phir bhi pyar karta hai ye dil
Kyun meri ek bhi nahi sunta hai ye dil
Kyun mera ho kar bhi kisi aur ke liye dharkta hai ye dil
As the Gregorian calendar enters its last quarter and the autumn sun casts its long shadows; the green of the foliage is ready to take a final bow, the red, orange and yellow will now take the center stage. Autumn is here with its mesmerizing color palette and the show will end in a brilliant blaze of colors.
The leaves that were fondly rustled by the summer wind will soon be crunching under the feet.
How remorselessly the trees let go of the leaves it nurtured with so much love, only to repeat it time and again. I wish I could be like the trees, hold onto nothing yet treat everything that comes in my contact with utmost love and care.
Many thanks to Rajarshi Das for the dazzling pictures.
I am a prisoner of my five senses. My soul encased in the body made of five elements. It seeks just You and not the gilded prison. You are everywhere and in everything that I experience; in every minute moment of my life, in every atom of my being. Yet You are hidden from me; hidden in plain sight. You keep me occupied, and pacified with material possessions. Lulled with pleasures of the senses. But it is You who I seek, I long for – the bright shining sun and not a flickering candle.
I bow my head at Your magnificent, flawless creation. You can hear the footsteps of an ant, You know where and when each leaf will fall, You know how long the sun will burn and the planets will turn. What can I offer You, I am a minuscule spec of dust, I own nothing, everything belongs to You – my body, soul, mind, thoughts, my very being is Yours.
When will You have mercy on me, when will You deliver me? I will yearn for You eternally, in this life and beyond. I will wait patiently with bated breath by Your door hoping fervently that one day it will open for me.
The unassuming farm house stood down a remote windy road, next to an old cemetery and a church with chiming bells, which would ring musically every hour breaking the stupor of its surroundings. The idyllic farm house was just like the picture we had seen and liked on the website. An old two story structure with a brick front. We were greeted warmly by our hosts, the old couple who owned the farm. They promptly walked us through the house and to the back of the building where the wooden steps lead to a warm welcoming sunroom replete with a small round table and two chairs, an old comfy patio couch, an ornamental plant or two adorning an old open book shelf with neatly lined random selection of books and board games; which I suspected might have been left behind by previous guests. The sunroom gave way to a cozy kitchen with checkered floor and the snug bedroom with country style furniture.
We would spend most of our waking time in the inviting sunroom; eating, talking, or taking in the view. At night we would cozy up there on the couch under a warm throw as we watched the stars light up the night sky. The vista from the sunroom was pastoral – serene rolling lush green landscape dotted by tall trees, occasional shrubs, wired fences, a red barn in need of care, and a shimmering pond tucked behind a veil of tall shrubs. The air was ripe with the constant chirping of crickets and innumerable critters invisible to the eye who made their presence felt by their endless chatter. Their sonorous chirps now and then punctuated by the calls and songs of birds. The air was alive, vibrating and resonating with these sounds.
The sapphire sky with specks of cottony wispy clouds floating by leisurely would turn charcoal black as the night descended. The silhouette of the landscape now engulfed in pitch darkness and stillness. The land and the sky would have seemed alike if not for the twinkling periwinkle stars that marked the sky. The solitude and stillness of the night away from the din of city life stirred the soul creating a longing for the unknown. The stillness of the mysterious night, the dimly lit sky, and the background humming of the insects all beckoning, gently tugging the heart, making it porous such that emotions flow out like cascades, stoking a deep seated desire to be one with what the eyes were witnessing.
In this bucolic setting time seemed irrelevant- minutes, hours, and days had lost their urgency and significance. Life was not at the mercy of the clock but more in rhythm with nature. As the stay at the farmhouse drew to an end and we bid adieu to our tranquil surroundings we felt refreshed and revived. Our modern lives cocooned in the concrete jungle has alienated us from nature. In our eternal rush to arrive somewhere and achieve something in life we have no time to watch the trees sway in wind and rain, admire the pearly dew drops delicately balanced on the blade of a grass, or appreciate the rich hues of the sky as the sun sets each day. Experiencing nature bridges that disconnect, and fills us with a kind of energy which is the very essence of our life. This rustic sojourn made me feel that I am a part of this vast creation and not apart.
I wandered only as a cloud carrying the burden of disappointments that hang around my neck like an albatross. I trudge the mountain with them oscillating between hope and hopelessness. The harsh rugged terrain and the jagged rocks all beneath my battered feet. The cold merciless rain pelts my body. I have to go on this aimless forlorn path for that is the only path I have. The endless journey and the bitter truth of the endless miseries punctuated by fleeting dreams of good times, fair weather, and joy. The howling winds pick up, their gale force throw me off my feet. I hang on to the ledge, hanging on for life. The winds strips me of hope, of love, the soft pillowy, fluffy dreams all fly away like splinters in the wind. I am left bereft of joy just with the burden of my disappointments still hanging heavy around my neck like an albatross.
My path is set, I have to do this all alone, on this cold ominous black mountain; gather more misery, collect more disappointments, and yet face the world with a happy face.
I have to go on this path till my time is no more.
The beautiful and spectacular blooms of Magnolia can brighten any Spring day.The pretty pink and white flowers are eye catching but they last only for a short while. So chase your gloom away and enjoy these pretty blooms.
The sun was setting on an unusually balmy March evening as we drove to DC. The cherry trees along the tidal basin were laden with buds eagerly waiting to bloom. Over the growing darkness the light of the sun was melting and dissolving in the dark waters of the Potomac. People walking along the tidal basin and the cherry trees lined along the bank seemed like silhouettes. We took our camera out and clicked away, capturing the fading dusk and the famous landmarks over the growing darkness.