'The Worst Day'

Early morning, a death at the threshold. I saw the sorrow in her tears as she fought them back holding on to hope. But in the midst of it, I felt she knew. Part of her was sure that her husband would not come home again. But this is not a situation that life prepares you for. 

Life does not prepare you for death. And therefore, I did not comprehend.

To be taken through a nine year old's journey through his grief over his father's death, was quite honestly painful. Albeit, it was 'just' a movie, it might as well have been the story of so many people, since the movie is based on the 9/11 terror attack. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I do not know what Daldry aimed at when he directed it. But, what I have taken from it is the fact that there are things we do, that cannot be undone. 

But death defeats all. An absolute?

And yet, life goes on. 

Oskar Schell recalls the day as the 'worst day'. 

I have loved and lost but once so far. My grandfather. Over nine months ago. I remember my father's call that woke me up. I heard his words and merely passed the phone to my brother. I had no reaction then either. Until my uncle called with plans of travel. Pain in each voice from that moment on. The dead one was gone. The living grieved. Sorrow. And as reminded once again as I watched the movie, the feeling of pure helplessness, There is nothing you can do about it. An upsetting fact. 

Perhaps it was one of my worst days. 

Nine months later, to think of the fact brings tears and pain. I do not like to talk about it. But the memories of him bring joy, bring strength and the reminder that LIFE persists. It cannot end, There is little comfort in the fact, but there is much hope in the reality that the choice to remember, and yet to carry on, is to let death have no hold. 

Water's edge

The water’s edge is a strange place to be in the midst of the storm. I can feel the wind rising, but its call is but an echo in my ears. The rain has been battering against the window panes, but even that is only the sound of chimes in the air. My thoughts are louder, now, than all that is around me. I do not wish to go back. There is an escape within these waves. The storm is brewing, but I am still here. It cannot move me.

My eyes are closed, but my other senses tell me all that happens around me. The chill of the rain as it caresses my skin, the cold water that hugs my feet, the wind that bites the warmth out of me with a brutality that seeks to cause pain. The ebb, the flow, the howl, it is all but music, orchestrated like chaos. The scent and taste of salt in my hair and on my lips, draw memories into my vision. I can’t tell which ones I’d want to let go of, even if I could.

There is nowhere I have felt safer, and yet, there is nowhere more dangerous that I have been to as yet. My strength fades. I fall to the ground. There is no part of me that is not soaked to the bone, as the sea smiles in victory.  And yet, it is in the darkness of the storm, that I feel the most empowered. It is in the riot of the wind that the calm surrounds me.  

And it is amidst this assault on my senses that I feel his arms around me. I do not need to be in control. Relief washes over me as I realize that he’s found me. The storm rages ever more so, but it cannot tell whether my tears are my own or that of the rain. But I am safe as I hear him whispering in my ear, ‘I’ll always be here.’

Life is a journey
To each their own.
Death, an adventure
As yet unknown.

Tread

We are each on a path,
That no other may tread for us.
None other may walk beside us.
Except for the brief moments
That we are allowed
To accompany each other.

And in those moments
We find
Who we are;
Who we want to be;
Who we ought to be.

And yet,
Always Incomplete.

Rat Race Manifesto

There will be one day when all humans live in peace... Each one caring for only the simplest of things such as food, water, clothing shelter, etc. Anything more would be a luxury that they cherish dearly, a gift of some sort perhaps from someone dear to them. And they will say, “Our ancestors ran a rat race for nothing. They knew nothing of how to live... They used excessively, wasted everything, and realized always only too late. They spoke of change and life anew. They spoke of being able to fix all that they had ruined. But that’s all they did. Speak. Mere words were their ‘contribution’. They were too busy with the race. Each trying to get ahead of the other and using whatever means are necessary for it. Being the best, or trying to, was most important for their survival. They spent so much time competing, that they lost all sight of the beauty that was around them; all the wonder and magnificence of nature, ignored and eventually destroyed.”  Or will they?

We humans trample over all, thinking we are greater, better, smarter. Yet it is those in sync with nature that know what the Earth needs. They do not cut down trees to construct wider roads. They do not spill oil in the water. They do not pour toxic materials untreated into the water sources. We destroy, they suffer but try to adapt. We destroy some more, they suffer. How much can we expect them to suffer? They do not fight it. When their attempts at adaptation fail, they die out and we grieve for their extinction. And go on with little change.

But this need not be. We can change it. The future is not written in stone. It is carved through the choices we make and through our actions. If not us, then who will help the Earth?  Will there be anyone else to come to save it? Will there be anything left for us to even have descendants who think so badly of us? Will they be able to survive on what we leave, that is, if we leave anything?

The rat race has to stop. The more we race. The less track we have to run on. The more we help each other, the further the track stretches, but it’s no longer a track, more of a road that we travel together. Cooperation and consideration are the keys.

Some say, “What’s the point? It’s all going to perish anyway.” To which we reply, “When we can make things last longer and be of more use, why throw it away now? With your attitudes, everyone might as well destroy all things around them, claiming its just preparation for an even otherwise impending doom.”

This has to stop. We decide. We shall not be wasteful. We shall not be greedy. When we have more, we share. When we have enough, we try to make it last longer than estimated. We are sympathetic to the Earth’s needs. We seek to find new ways to be less wasteful and more economical; optimum use of minimum resources. We can bring the change. We can be the Difference. We are the Difference.

Stories.

There are three kinds of stories I can think of at the moment.

1) True Stories : Those stories of people who have done great things. They've persevered and won battles that most of us can barely even imagine. They earn respect just because they are who they are. They inspire. They're beautiful. These are the ones they make into Hallmark Channel Originals and whatnot :) The others in this group are the ones you tell your best friends - your wonderful idiocies, the beauty in your life, things you couldn't possibly even dream of sharing with anyone who doesn't know you like they know themselves. Or something like that. But basically, my point is. It's all true. Every minute of it that causes pain and joy.

2) Pure Fiction : These are the stories that have immense potential. They can go any direction you want them to. You can fly and breathe under water. Anything your heart can imagine. They can even just be embellished versions of your true stories. They make really good entertainment.

3) Stories from Imbeciles : These are the ones spun by those brilliant imbeciles who like to believe that something's true and want to convince everyone around that it is true. They never benefit anyone. -.- Lol, not worth the time. Not worth the wait. Move on and hurry past, because getting caught in this will just mess with your head so bad you want to pull it off :P

I think I've put them pretty simply for everyone :D It's fun to make lists. Lol, if only I was more organised in classifying other stuff! :D Give me some pointers if you can think of them. Feel free!

Enjoy this one ^.^ It's been a while since I've heard it :D It's a good one to sing when you feel like everyone's trying to pull you down. Much love! Stay connected!

Third Day - Eagles

My Shadowed Shoes.

Though you wish to walk in my shoes,
I ask you to find your own.
Though they seem inviting,
Remember, they were made in shadows.
My past is mine, and only One knows.
Your path is yours to find.
I ask you to hold my hand,
Walk beside me.
For One, He waits and watches to help.
Let's make shoes for you too, my friend.


Okay, quite literal as well as not I suppose, but this is Day 10 of Joyous June. Any fellow bloggers out there, make use of this opportunity. It's not often someone gives you inspiration and asks you to do whatever creative think you want from it. Hope you feel better Kanika! Thanks for the lovely inspirations :) I really liked this one! <3

Dear Daughter

A must read of a brilliant thought in simple words that brightens one's day and reminds one of the simplest thing we all must remember :) Vanya Rachel, the author of this brilliant article, has captured it beautifully and I encourage all wanderers through my blog to read it :) <3

Parallel Voices

Have you ever had those days or even moments where there are so many ridiculous voices in your head that all you want to do is scream!?!

No?

Really?

Then, I am going crazy?! :|

Oh brilliant, isn't that just what I needed.
   

I really don't like it when so many voices say so many different things whether any of it is relevant to the present situation or naught. 

Seriously though.

When was the last time any of you had the chance to wake up to silence. And then you slowly realise that you're actually listening to the sound of birds saying good morning.

It's different when you're listening. It's different to hear it anew. It's just different. You can't help but sing a song of worship with them :) <3

Enjoy!

Reminiscing...

Everytime I come back here, I reminisce on days that I used to love being here... I still do... Until some things come up that people just won't let go. I mean seriously, NONE of your business. Just let it go... Ah well :) Life goes on, I'll be home soon. :P But, you'll always be family and I'll still always love you. Just don't think I can handle more than two days of the same topics arising which really have no point in being brought up.

To write.

So I've been asked to write an article for the YFC newsletter. I don't quite know why she asked me, but now I need to write it. And I really don't know where to even start. Thing is, being a believer and a writer both, ought I not be able to write this? Sincerely clueless here right now. Praying for wisdom :) 

Chocolate.

I just ate Snickers! And I'm just wondering out loud... So you don't necessarily need to give me an answer... But!

Is chocolate tempered differently for different countries so that it may stay a certain consistency in said climate?

I hope you lot had as good a day as I did :) Coz I doubt it could have been better :) Much love!

(PS. This is my feeble attempt at making a short post, just to prove to myself that it's possible.)
[*Forcibly restrains self from typing further]

I am

I am who I am is what I’ve told myself

“Be who you are” is what I’m told.

But when all you’re told is of what is expected.

What society, over years, has constructed.

And all our ways are so restricted.

That our hope is solely to be accepted.

And yet, “I am who I am” is what I’ve said.

Who?

I am who I am

But I no longer know who I am

Because who I’ve been is who I’ve wanted to be

So that others can see?
And that I may be free?

But that does not make me who I am

Or who I could be

But would I be who I need to be

To be the me the world ceases to see?

But who I am is whom I’ve tried not to be.

To be all whom I can be

And still things have worked in revers

For who I am is who I should be

Whom I could be but possibly

Not whom I want to be

Nor whom I stay saying, ‘I’m me.’

Will I ever be free?

Blow Me Away

Blow me away, Mr. Wind

Let me fly on your wings.

Let me soar in the sky

That you see every day.

Blow me away, Mr. Wind

Let me dance with the stars as you do.

Let me see the world through your eyes

That my perception be renewed.

Blow me away Mr. Wind

That I stay here not a moment more.

Let me come with you o’er oceans and more

That I too can hear them as they roar.

Blow me away Mr. Wind.

That I may recall all that I have

That I may remember the ones I love

And bring me back no longer bland.

Thoughts

When all the world keeps racing around; 

How can I be slow?

When all around me feels tied down; 

How can I be free?

How can I ask that one would listen?

When sorrow is of all I speak?

But you're right, sometimes even listeners

Shoulders to cry on seek.

I hear the wonder in his voice of concern and care.

I hear the sadness and despair for a friend no longer near.

I hear the shadow of a past engraved in stone.

And yet when I speak, my voice echoes, I stand alone.

The pits of despair shall not keep me down.

I will rise above.

For one leads me through life's fears,

It's His hand, I hold.