on meeting some old friends

March 10,  2018

I had held on to the stories they didn't even remember.  Over the years I might have been guilty of embellishing them a wee bit.

Decades later, it was fun to recount some of them when we met. But then those were the only tales I had.

Once the old friendship was rekindled, it needed new fuel to keep the flame aglow. The little kindle that I had tied in a bundle and held close to my heart.. it wasn't enough anymore..

These were unknown people now.

My bundle of memories was only enough to lay claim to their affection. that foundation was solid.

But for the relationship to thrive it need what.. I do not know. what do I have to offer - I do not know. whether i want to - i do not know..

What I can is wallow in the memories.. which are my own which play out just the way i want them to.

The choice of the right word to describe an occurrence, a feel, an emotion..how  a word feels just right...

It was evening and I was making a cup of coffee for the spouse.  I am the classic 'Butter Fingers'  and to avoid sending another cup into the dustbin, I decided to pour the coffee out in a glass.  A 'phulpatra' as they call it in marathi.. or a small round bottomed steel glass with an edge which juts out... eases sipping .

I lifted the coffee pot with the left hand and without looking picked out a glass from the rack... and just as I was about to pour the coffee out.. the heart missed a beat and the eyes stung  and a  tear rolled down..in one micro second.

That glass had always been reserved for my dad.  In my mother's words it was the 'big glass'.. 'paav litre glass' ..and it was reserved for my father.  He drank only two cups of tea in the course of a day, but that was the glass he had it in and that was the quantity he drank.

The words  that came to my mind as it was processing all that happened was  ' टचकन डोळ्यात पाणी आले '  ...  like a needle prick.. that sting.

 Discarding memorabilia is not the same as discarding memories.

Fumio wrote, “It’s the memories that we can recall without the aid of objects that are truly important.” And, for the really hard-to-let-go items: take a picture. It’ll be easier to keep memories when you go digital.

awaara sapney

 May 2016



dreams... 

  they let me dare. 
  they set me free..

to say things I have never said, 
build up incidents which might never really happen.
but which I hoped would  

Dreams
they  me live in a happy space ..
 put me in scenarios which may 
 never really happen
but which i wish would happen
..long ..would happen 

each night i dream.

 some dreams i remember
  some i don't

 if i wake up 
in the  middle of a dream..
  sometimes  i can  go back to sleep and continue the same dream

some dreams are detailed..

 pleasant or unpleasant

  some are like the miniclips

   they carry over from the reality... 
    in a dreamy sort of a way. 

     let you dream of sequences
      which u know will never ever come true

and yet u dream ...

 as if they were a reality

u wake up with a smile
 and the smile stays on and on

while there is the unreality in the dreams....
 it is this unreality 
  which helps cope 
   with the reality 
   which is life !

And i find myself being more of my father’s daughter.  Nearly every sentence or an anecdote or

an experience..begins with , You know my dad did it this way!

And then there are the dreams at night.. with a regular frequency!

and the tears that are suddenly threaten to brim out of the eyes. a weight on the chest..

a huge lump in the throat, eyes welled up at all times... and that attempt to stifle that sob,

which I know will be a loud one.

a year

a year

i survived a year.

there will be many more

why did it never occur to me it will be that it will be as difficult

a parent will fade out of your life.. with a family of your own, the parent..does he fall lower in the hierarchy.. hierarchy of the indispensables in your life!!!

 .