Can you hear me?

Ear is described as an organ of hearing in humans and other vertebrates. True perhaps for other vertebrates, but about humans? Well, there are other ways by which a human can hear.  Some people hear with their hearts while clearly, some others hear with their ego. 

Well Being

Humour is beneficial to people's overall wellbeing. Well, being rotund certainly extricates a lot of humorous bestowments on me! 

My son asked me, "Ma, what if you suddenly encountered a Lion, all alone?"
I thought he would be amused when i said, "If there is a Devine intervention, I would survive. Else the Lion will."
With no delay he laughed and quipped , "For weeks." 

Wordsworth

Some words seem suspended in air. Directionless, deemed inessential. Some words have faded into transparent nothingness. Some words did not even make it out of the mouth. What can give the words weight and some value? The mouth that utters, or the ear that hears? Do weightless words gain weight by virtue of the ear that hears? Can weighty words lose value due to rejection of the ear? Could weightless words that remain unuttered have any value? What gives these words the power to hurt? What gives the words unuttered, the potential to disconcert a being? 

Existential Gift

"Happy Birthday!"
"Thank you."
"Akka, your birthday gift, is my existence."
"Oh no, can I return it?"

Thanksgiving

We all sometimes need to feel cared, supported and loved. Especially when you feel down or when the going gets tough.  That is when you can count on your sisters.  In the ocean of life, they are like dolphins, swimming in their own waters,  keeping afloat  their responsibilities,  diving into the depths of duty. But they have special senses and when they catch the distress call from a sibling, they reach out and  are there swimming beside you.  Supporting  you over rough tide. They have your back. It is a bonding for life.

Mother is caring and compassionate. Her love for her siblings, is unconditional. She raised three children with grace and poise Some parts of her can clearly be seen in my sisters.  Both of them have gone through some really trying times in the past years. Both have emerged stronger. I am  very proud of them. One has learnt to attune and get the better of situation while the other, though having to go through a lot of suffering, has seen her old passion resurface - her golden voice. Both have received their share of resilience and fortitude from father. Blessed to have  wonderful parents and the most amazing sisters. 

How can you teach

How can you teach the eyes to see only what they are supposed to,
When all they have, is the vision of what they are not to see

How can you teach the mind not to think of what is proscribed

When the mind minds not the transgressions in its trance

How can you teach a heart not to dance to a cadence

When there is no control over the symphony of its beats

How can you teach the memory not to overwhelm the thoughts

When  hijacking  the senses becomes the favoured occupation

How can you teach the self not to tear to pieces 

When it consoles to have someone to piece you back together.

Pressed, not suppressed

Memories bring back with them emotions, time that has passed, people, animates, inanimate objects and more memories. Memories brought with it a desire for the fragrance of flowers that had bloomed years ago. So, I brought down the book which held some flowers and petals in them, pressed for all the unnamed years.  Joy seemed a word mild to express the emotion that welled up within. Hands warmed with the breath that flowed from the pressed memories. Achromatic they appeared, losing their vibrant colours and fragrance to the years of perpetuation. With care, as I picked them up one by one and held them in my hand, with remedied vision from the same old pair of eyes, which was trying to  see what they had missed earlier, they seem to slowly come to life. Colour and fragrance slowly revived. Pressed they were, but alive, beautiful, warm and earnest. Contrition that I may have earlier failed to observe the apparent popped with pain.  The pressed objects hinted a protected preservation and continuity. Dead, but way alive and timeless. Grateful and redeemed that I had the chance to realise now. Thankful for a second grasp in life.