The images behind the frame have changed every few days, so much so that it is difficult to keep up. My only fear is that I shouldn’t forget the significance of each shifting view and what it meant for me.
Hi! Are you there, folks? It’s me, Prajakta 🙂 Fumbling over keystrokes – it takes 3 weeks to break a habit; I had almost three months to lose the grasp of a basic laptop! I am finally sitting in front of a laptop and it was a whirlwind ride to get here.
Let me cut to the chase – I have moved from Pune, India to Toronto, Canada. D and I got some fabulous news earlier this year in the form of our Permanent Residence and well, the rest is history. We literally moved lock, stock AND barrel to Toronto and are in the process of settling down. The apartment we have rented is slowly starting to look like a home, the cracks on the pavement outside the street are slowly becoming familiar, and more importantly, the aisles of the supermarket are becoming fast friends!
How did I get here? Well, I quit my job sometime earlier this year and decided to vacation for about two months in the US before hopping over to Toronto to join D. I was crashing at my sister’s in Houston while making trips to San Francisco, Chicago and Boston 🙂 Solo travelling was great but then, what the heart craves after a while is a steady pace with days spent in pajamas.
The reason I did not say anything here is that, well, I am stupid. I didn’t want to jinx anything. I was so scared of things not working out, of the job hunt turning desperate and of life becoming difficult that I just wanted to keep my mouth shut lest I bite my words in the future. I also want to say the biggest THANK YOU to Colin from meandray for being a fabulous help during the move! He was beyond kind and supportive during this transition, providing us with tidbits of information that made apartment hunting, understanding the public transport and the general neighborhoods so much easier. Once again, thank you!
Whew! How is everyone doing?
P.S. What a coincidence – I open my blog after months on my 4 Year anniversary on WordPress! I am in Kindergarten now 🙂
That’s when the heartbeats race
That’s when a blush warms your cheeks
That’s when shivers flow down your back
That’s when your fingers tremble
You swallow and swallow hard
You close your eyes
Your heart comes to a standstill
Your soul sings a song to music unwritten
It’s the anticipation
It’s the breaths that you share
It’s the gentle fluttering of your eyes
It’s the best part of your first kiss
Today, she decided to try on the mauve cotton suit. It complemented her frame beautifully and brought out the depth of her eyes. Innocently, she went about her way when alas, the seams ripped open. Just like the other time, when her black denim jacket unraveling at the shoulders.
Her friend had been facing a similar problem with her clothes. One day it was the yellow chiffon dress that tore down her back while some days later, it was the blue silk skirt that frayed all around the hem. It seemed that the tacks and safety pins held only for sometime until the clothes eventually fell apart, worse than ever.
No matter how many times they tried to repair their garments, change their tailors, use assorted fabrics or try out different styles, they never really held together. It was a frustrating time. It was a bitter time. It was a puzzling time.
Only a close examination made them realize that the material of their clothes had been of poor quality, handled with little care and mended without a thought. Of course, their stitching was not going to hold for long when the material itself was falling to pieces.
Just like the law can only do so much. Unless the mindset changes, no number of death penalties and rulings can make an impact on the horrifying rape and molestation cases taking place in the country. In fact, I’ll go to the extent of saying that law is just an easy way out. It is WRONG as a solution. Fear of death should not be the check-post for a criminal! The law may work for two minutes, but unless we examine and address the fabric of society’s perceptions, I do not really see an end to the number of ‘Nirbhayas’ the nation is producing.
Hues of pinks dusted the branches,
As the dusk melted into a moonless night,
Tiny buds unfurled their blossoms,
As the soil shimmered under the starlight
Moonshine sprinkled on the blooms,
As the enchantment weaved in flight.
The earth spun on its edge in joy,
As the apple blossoms glowed bright.
Like pearls, they blushed and twinkled,
As they demured under a touch so slight.
The sun shined brighter by the day
As honeyed petals glided featherlight.
Like moondrops on a carpet of green,
They never failed to arouse delight.
I lost track of the number of apple blossoms I saw during my Kashmir trip, each more enchanting than the next. An ode to the happiness!
I trace the perimeter of the blossom. The petals are wrapped lovingly together as if conducted to a waltz. The partners have frozen in time, forever entangled in their embrace. The sunlight on the morning dew sparkles as chandeliers of their universal ball.
I follow the trails left by the droplet of ink through the crystal goblet of water. How it floats and sways, leaving behind a pattern I liken to a music note that hasn’t been heard. It cuts through the dense path with a calm assurance of its beauty and lazy in its power.
I grasped for the desert sands flowing down the dune with my bare hand. There is a smooth ripple to their fall, like the mouth of a waterfall breaking and surrendering to gravity. There is a rush to break the unwrinkled carpets of sands – a rebel without a cause, it finds respite at the curved bottom.
I focus on the edge of the damp canvas touched by the tip of the paintbrush. From a singular point, the colour spreads like a blossoming flower springing free from the locks of the bud. Even inanimate, it follows the random uniformity otherwise impossible to replicate.
I blow at faerie dust and watch the particles pirouette in the lonely ray of the afternoon light before landing on the polished wood. The gold and amethyst cloud forms patterns that reflect the midnight sky with starlight twinkling solemnly of promises being made across the world.
￼Even when you break patterns, it leads to an inconsistency so perfect that it becomes a part of the perfection.