Saturday, March 10, 2012
Days are gone when the ladies of the house used to burn themselves at the burning pyre. Now they are independent, self –made, well-read, competent and of course special. They maintain the perfect balance between their personal and professional levels. They have a family to take care of, elderly parents, an equally busy husband, children to mould and many other responsibilities and commitments along with official obligations. They get up early in the morning to start the day fresh in order to remain afresh throughout the day so that their won’t be complains on her page and she sails her boat smoothly and swiftly.
She takes her mother to the park, her father to the Ayurveda center every time they want to. She cooks food for them. Acts like the typical bahu, a loving daughter, a friend, a confidante and many at times their mother as well. She embraces them as her own parents and looks after them as angels on earth and puts in every extra effort to make them happy and bring the broadest smile on their faces.
She caresses him when he returns from office sad and tired , she extends the loving helping hand when he asks for her advice regarding his official fiascos, she gives her soft shoulder for him to put his crying crimes so that he gets lightened by pouring it unto her, she smudges away his worries and turns them into a beautiful dream just with a single wave, she paints and lives his dreams as hers and finally as theirs and moulds their children to be his reflection so amazing as a reality once a simple stargaze. She makes him believe that she belongs to him and she will convert every nightmare into a magnificent dream.
She is sometimes her toy, many times just a hand to cling on to, a friend to play with and the example that she follows, the epitome of perfection she aspires to become, her first teacher who teaches her A to zee about life and the various chapters. She acts as her fairy who materializes her wishes into reality. She is the one and the only one who understands her.
Well she has two pairs of parents to take care of, who expect, who love and who want her and she balances her life and walks through with handful of love and compassion and of course a promise to be the real one.
Well she has to go and compete in the vying world of competence and skill. She has to prove herself even there as she is a career-oriented educated and an ambitious lady who wants to climb the ladder of success and reach the zenith. Along with every stringed relationship she has an extra link to look into and she is the one who is expected to be nothing but perfect, how imperfect is the thought!
Well even she can be tired, sad, not so content, moody, and every other scent of emotion that people think she cannot feel as she is supposed to the perfect one. She is equally talented, educated, ambitious, smart and loved just as her counterpart, but why are all expectations made just from her? Just because she is the bahu? The weekend bahu?
Just remember she is the precious gift of God, not everyone is that fortunate to be loved by her, so grab her and never let her go, if not worship her…just love her!
Friday, March 9, 2012
Colors of emotions range from A to Zee and they, innocently and deliberately paint a heavenly painting using the brush and skill of emotions on the canvas of our hearts.
Splash the most beautiful colors on others...then obviously a few droplets would fall on us and beautify our lives and mould it into a piece of art...or a piece of heart!
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Walking on the span along with the frail aura,
She walked and her trail followed her wherever she stepped
With the sparkle of her solitaire she hid her eyes,
With the silken hair lock she drew the beauty of hues towards her.
She paused to touch the few dusty dewdrops on the rose petal she saw,
She could see the sky dancing to the tune of the bee,
She tapped her feet to the tune as well,
As her silk like gown adopted her tiptoed steps.
She suddenly withdrew herself from the color,
She intermitted to see the fragile imperfect perfection.
She tried to walk towards the dark, towards it.
She tried to lift her dress and run to reach.
She didn’t want to close her eyes, it might just vanish,
She didn’t want to touch it; it might just get hurt,
She didn’t want to hold it, it might just break,
She kept staring without even blinking, that was safe.
Slowly she gathered herself and approached it,
As she reached, it withdrew and the distance heightened.
She couldn’t solve the puzzle, but couldn’t stop herself either,
That darkness copped her heart without her knowing of it.
She got hooked to this drug but couldn’t feel it,
She got addicted but couldn’t get it as hers,
She claimed that reflection to be hers but couldn’t own it,
It belonged to her but did not have the conviction hold it forever.
…and she couldn’t move forward…life hit the stop button for her, forever…she couldn’t move towards it and couldn’t retreat back either…
Life is so unpredictable, we get attached to unreachable and impossible apparitions and those moments that make us weep the most are the ones we want to cling on forever.