August came as the promise of rain,
on a dark gray morning,
mists and low light,
the distance not in sight.
Such a joy to stay in,
bake up a little storm,
the smell of burnt rosemary,
adding earthiness to the home.
I indulge in the gray,
brew myself a strong pour,
let the distance stay distant,
and take care of what’s near.
August came as the promise of rain,
on a dark gray morning,
mists and low light,
the distance not in sight.
Instagram handle – @words.and.other.comforts
July came in a little hurriedly,
like someone missed a tiny step,
and pushed open the door,
without ringing the damn bell first.
I was wiping the dust clean,
a little something gathered in the corner,
and much out of habit,
had put some tea to brew on the burner.
I would have liked a couple more hours,
maybe finish re-potting some of the flowers,
but since you are already in, I get the tea out,
and here we are, ready for a fresh bout.
But, July came in a little hurriedly,
like someone missed a tiny step,
and pushed open the door,
without ringing the damn bell first.
Instagram handle – @words.and.other.comforts
One leaf at a time,
and just like that,
i have turned the page,
and let an entire season age.
Knowing the pattern,
i tuck fall in a corner,
pull a blanket over,
let it rest for a year.
Welcome June with a hug,
make space for it to stay,
reading one line a day,
enjoying what the new has to say.
One leaf at a time,
and just like that,
i have turned the page,
and let an entire season age.
Instagram handle – @words.and.other.comforts
Life’s beautiful paradox,
for when I start to slow down,
and breathe with intention,
an un-rushed pace,
inhale to a count of seven,
exhale to a count of eleven,
is when my body experiences,
the intense rush of calm,
and the mere awareness of being,
takes my heart on a giddy spin.
Instagram handle – @words.and.other.comforts
As all the worlds collide,
I offer you some quiet,
no promises, no words,
just silence that comforts.
Instagram handle – @words.and.other.comforts
So, www.the.aliporepost.com (and it’s corresponding Instagram handle) is celebrating poetry writing this month.
We are three weeks down, 10 days to go 😊
Week 3 Prompts –
Day 15 Prompt – Need
There it goes again,
dancing in the rain,
ignorant of any pretense,
this need of mine,
messy and untamed.
I let it run wild,
gleefully naïve,
till the rains mix with tears,
uncontrollable and fierce.
When it comes home,
I give it a towel to dry,
both the rainwater and cry,
then I sit with my need,
not saying a word,
for it knows no logic,
and just needs a tight hug.
We sleep over the grief,
long and deep,
and I wake up to find,
a steadiness to my need.
We learn to live together,
without hurting each other.
now that we know us better,
there is no fighting the feeling,
rather we find joy in the very being,
and like long stable relationships,
settle into a beautiful rhythm.
So, there it goes again,
dancing in the rain,
still ignorant of any pretense,
this tamed need of mine now,
calm and contained.
Day 16 Prompt – Favorite
I am surprised you even have to ask,
you will know her favorite,
every single time,
look a little closely,
and you will figure out,
it’s in the way she becomes quiet,
but her eyes get loud.
Day 17 Prompt – Love
Because love should need no words,
no definitions,
no spaces.
At it’s very basic,
it feels something like this ♥️
Day 18 Prompt – Burden
All these feelings,
he’s put aside,
screwed the cork tight,
so they don’t escape unknowingly,
and his world can sleep right.
Little does he know,
they’ve conspired together,
and sit building pressure,
till he won’t be able to,
hold them in any longer.
I wish I could tell him,
some of these were not his to begin with,
to uncork them free,
this burden he lugs around,
is not his to carry.
Day 19 Prompt – Meanwhile
Loud clinking of glasses,
fancy food platters,
lots of fake smiles,
overlapping chatter.
Meanwhile, no one notices,
as she grabs a wine bottle,
winks at her friend,
and they quietly slip out together.
Clutching firm their sarees,
they run out the side gate,
make a dash for their spot near the sea,
laughing all the way to their own party.
Day 20 Prompt – Bucket List
She looks at her bucket list,
makes a paper plane of it,
and lets it fly far,
the only tick that matters,
is the one she whispers close,
chai with her parents by end of the year.
Day 21 Prompt – Lost
That kind of hazy morning,
where I plug my airpods in,
amp up the volume high,
go through my music pile.
Make my choice,
a Coke Studio song,
seldom disappoints,
to drown out the noise,
both inside and around.
So while I continue jogging the usual way
I find my heart veer off and stray,
not to find some place to belong,
but to get lost in the glorious unknown.
Instagram handle – @words.and.other.comforts
Death to 2020 @ Netflix was sheer sarcastic brilliance. Much like a lot of what I saw on social media this year was. I laughed more than I should have, at both on-screen and off-screen drama and yes, am grateful that I had the comfort of a couch and some popcorn to up the entertainment quotient while some real shit was happening outside. Needless to say, none of it takes away from the seriousness of the curveball life threw at us this year and many others who weren’t as fortunate.
This was the year I saw activists emerge in full glory on social media. I still for one, can’t understand the logical reasoning behind all that aggressiveness. How is liking 20 tweets or posting 20 things of the same kind starting from a gentle nudge to hardcore accusations going to get people to even remotely listen to your perspective? Besides, what even is the point of just loud armchair activism? What am I missing here?
This was the year I saw trolls emerge with zero pretence whatsoever on social media. Being deliberately nasty at a time when people are just doing their best to get by on a day-to-day basis, you have got to be really twisted in your heart. I have no words for you.
However, this was also the year I saw kindness and quiet strength emerge in the way people coped with the shit-show around. Resilience won the day time and again.
Final words on 2020, because sometimes even we give in to the hype around writing notes to the year that was. No, 2020 was not a year of reset for me. It was the year I rested.
Halfway into the year I lost my job and while it was very disappointing initially, it gave way to a long due break. The first three months were spent in the sweetness of not knowing what I wanted to do next – from one hour to the next, one day to the next, one week to the next. I cooked, I baked, I went for long walks, I clicked photos of anything that caught my eye, I read books, I read blogs, I experimented with making cocktails, I learnt about wine, I shifted preferences to white wine, I read about my industry, I read about interesting people not from my industry, I watched loads of shows and movies, I wrote bits and pieces whenever I felt like. No agenda, no purpose but just pure zen and therapy. After close to 13 years of working our asses off, upskilling and networking could wait for a while. I was even lucky enough to land a project for the next 3 months, one that pushed my boundaries of thinking, while still giving me the space to continue my other interests.
It was most definitely a year of feeling and expressing deep deep gratitude for all I have, especially family and close ones, and good health. Touch wood.
So, to wrap what has been an unusually fulfilling year personally, my top three’s:
On that note, 2020, we were okay. 2021, may the force be with you but for now, continue to wear a mask please 🙂
Raw emotions, pages and pages of it…treated gently, treated wisely. This should feel heavy, with the imagery and the metaphors and the poetry. But it does not.
“A flight of yesterdays.”
Words definitely don’t do justice to the depth of everything i’ve just felt, overwhelming and a bit unnerving.
“To love. All kinds of it.”
Daya (mercy) and Aaftab (sun), their love too much to fit in a divided world.
“Now she wrapped up her dreams.
Now she folded them into a paper plane.
Now she aimed for the wastepaper basket.”
Then there’s Wasim (the brother) and Colin (the friend) and Asha (her mom) and Gyan (her dad).
“A pan of food critics.
A float of dancers.
A clutch of families.
We are all the same. Bones, muscle, souls, blood, shame, hate, joy.
Love.”
Read, it’s beautiful.
How do you do the long distance love? Parents, cousins, friends.
Yes, we do the video-calling and the normal calling and the whatsapp messages. But these are not ordinary times to just keep in touch in a passive detached way. Every thing seems to be tangled up in every thing. News, moods, love.
We consistently find the answer in everyday little things. Good mornings, breakfast photos, a call to say hi, lunch photos, a non-sensical joke forward, sharing a song i hummed all day, sunset photos, sending them reiki healing, daily game of ludo, analysis of the game, jibes over how dad’s always focused on killing us all, slightly heavy goodnights because none of us know how tomorrow will fare but we are hopeful.
It is a hell of a lot of work. Sensitivities are at peak and emotions are swinging like never before. Some days you tick all the boxes and arguments still break out but you don’t have the luxury to be upset for a whole day because none of us know how tomorrow will fare but yes, we are still hopeful.
Then we hunt for ways to keep the connection going in a purely mechanical way. Ludo comes in handy again. Play, kill, throw a six, start again. Hesitatingly share another dinner photo and hope you get a reply or even just an emoticon. Gauging cautiously, you make that call just to say goodnight and you sleep yet again with a slightly heavy heart because none of us know how tomorrow will fare but we are hopeful.
I read somewhere, ridiculous times like these call for ridiculous amounts of love. Yes please, love. Even when you feel like you can’t, LOVE. Baby steps 🙂
So, our kitchen sink has a big leak, possibly water pipe broken and needs a plumber urgently. Here is how whatsapp conversation with husband (on his rare day working from office) went:
Me: so, he’ll fix it tomorrow?
Him: no, assuming wall needs to be broken, will take a few days
Me: my kitchen is a mess, he needs to find an immediate temp solution
Him: may not happen tomorrow
Me: this sucks, I may have wine
Him: nice (sarcastic nice), today is the 17th, may have wine
Him: today is Thursday, may have wine
Him: the sky is blue today, may have wine
Me: it’s my birthday month
Him: october is the follow-up to birthday month, may have wine
And, it went on. My partner in w(h)ine, he does not drink 🙂
This tiny strip of land we call balcony.
Home to our plants, our chai dates, deep conversations.
Our connection to the outside. Moving cars on the road providing some semblance of normalcy. Heavy downpours, lightning and cloud drama giving us company on otherwise lonely days.
Our comfort space to go to after petty arguments because living together 24 hrs also takes a toll some days. To shut the balcony door firmly. To go stare outside. The vast expanse of the sea providing comfort to the restless soul.
Our brief escape route from the day-to-day routine with the gorgeous sunrises, stunning sunsets and beautiful dusk settings.
Solace.
How many different kinds of love are there – someone asked me. Just the four-letter one, the simple me said. Infinite, the complicated me said.
The we don’t meet often but there’s an instant connect when we do kinda love.
The I’ll always have your back kinda love.
The you give me butterflies in my tummy kinda love.
The you swallow me whole, heart and soul kinda love.
The no words, only eyes kinda love.
The I need you right now kinda love.
The ping hi to say nothing else kinda love.
The no words, no eyes, only hands kinda love.
The lets sneak in a kiss kinda love.
The I’ll learn all about superheroes for you kinda love.
The 3am call kinda love.
The grow old together kinda love.
The I’ll give you my last saved piece of fries kinda love.
The 3am call, come over now and bring me ice-cream kinda love.
The sweet snuggle in on a rainy day kinda love.
The no one dare hurt you or I’ll taser them kinda love.
The I love you but I am too scared to admit it kinda love.
The I need to text you about every little thing kinda love.
The sit on the couch do nothing but toes, fingers, legs, hands curled with each other kinda love.
The possessive needy you are mine kinda love.
The calm secure I know you are mine kinda love.
The look in the mirror – I got you love, kinda love.
The just a four-letter word kinda L.O.V.E.
Words and other Comforts. 