Bits of my heart 2020

Haven't writing a word since dawn, and the pain is unbearable can't point out where it is, but sometimes in the stomach and at times in the chest, but now I think it is in my head. My hand, it is not steady and i can feel the tremors as I grasp the pen (I know I know - I mean the keyboard) And as I begin typing, I feel the pain ebbing, as words flow over every key. Addiction goes beyond addiction, I know: It is beyond cigarettes or being salve of Bacchus, you can get addicted to pain, of a different kind Hitting the gym or walking the mile again and again, till you are addicted after which it sets you free Or you could choose to get addicted by taking on someone else's pain, and be a helping hand for anyone who asks or doesn't. Take this on and make addiction look good on you, and chisel out a life divine.

Parenting can be a tight rope walk anything more to the right or left and you can take a fall, that's the image in your child's mind that goes crashing. Parenting is a learning process yes you learning from them. Animals are lucky they too have parenting norms but they don't have peer pressure they don't have Jones or Jane's to match their skills.   Wonder what Buddha would have said  maybe a single sentence( follow the middle path). Don't be too strict or too lenient, be firm but not loud the moment you shout you have lost the moment and your sense with it. To us he's playing all day, reality he's learning all the time. Be the safety net, be the road signs, don't be a boulder on his path built with curiosity and eagerness. Be the palm that holds this light,not the bushel that hides trying to protect. Welcome to be his hero but don't dream of him being like you. Help in moulding him, don't try to clone. Last I got to say leave him alone as mu...

Prayer cannot mitigate your problem it can give you strength to face it and intuition to find a solution. Prayer is the only option when all else fails Prayer generates hope, hope pacifies a troubled mind. Calm seeps in and thinking becomes straight. Pain threshold is lifted, sorrow mitigated. Prayer may not be an option, it's a subtle command probably from somewhere deep down our subconscious mind. Prayer is a gift a buffer created by nature to help us take a fall and bounce back.

Growing old a wonderful experience True a few drawbacks here and there. Missing tooth the least of my worries, a dimming vision, impaired hearing. In it's place I get better understanding in my dim vision I can see more than my youth could, I hear only a little but understand a lot more of what's behind the voice. I walk steadily but with a slower gait. When young I never new how many steps to the gate.  Now I know I don't have to hurry and go at a leisure pace I measure and taste the air and absorb the colours of nature around me. Never has the world seem so colourful in the past.  In my youth I have breezed past not noticing the flower on the plant or fruit on the tree only destination seemed important the path was just a means to the source. Now I am a little wise not to wish my youthful days back. There was a time when my mind heart and sight searched for bigger, faster, brighter things in life the jazz was loud the drinks were hot the head was in a cloud. Now I see thr...

How many excuses do we need to kill animals. A few I list: For taste to fill my belly and feed my young. For pleasure to hone my skill with a gun, knife and arrow. To protect my family from rabid man eating ones. To save my crop from stampeding giants. These are just a few the list goes on. When we realize that our young ones are blood flesh and bones just like the one's we shoot and slaughter maybe compassion will rise. I ask you not to become a saint overnight start with decreasing your desire to quench your thirst with blood from these helpless beings. What you gobble daily do it ones a week what you have once a week make it once a month. With this your sins will not decrease but at least agony of a few innocent beings. Vegan is far to reach start by being a true vegetarian in the least. If your honest to your self vegan will be the gift you receive.

Candle candle burning bright, in the forest of the night. Many sin and dine in your light knowing not your sacrifice. Others shine like the morning star, in the luminosity lent by you. Without even a word of thanks to you they bask in pseudo glory. No poet am I, nor singer but not so stone hearted that lines of fire fail to move me.

On the border stand a few men in shivering cold who have sworn that not a soul shall cross as long as they stand. You and I live oblivious of this cozy and safe their sacrifice gone unnoticed. At home we have a similar a farmer and soldier rolled into one who sees that there is food on the fire our safety his only concern. As long as alive we notice him not, a stranger to wish once in a while. He is the one we call father. Mother we praise in verse and rhyme yet not a word for him at home and the one on the border. Dear friends of mine remember them say a kind word once in a while they are the heroes brave hearts with hearts of gold.

I thought I was great doing great, interfering in others business. Poking my nose to straighten others.  Time went by a bloated ego was my prize. Then one eve by mistake or creators grace I looked within. Instead of a golden glow, I saw a sewer filled with stinking hatred jealousy and rotting pride. I fell on my knee tears in my eyes realizing I was worse than most of the people I advised.

Danger is not at the borders as you  think. The enemy is within hidden in sheep skin the wolf attacks the unsuspecting. I point out to no religion clan or creed all are to blame for this deed. Poisoning young minds with words so sweet a ring of truth in every utterance. They act out heinous deeds in the name of an unseen God leader and party. Before ABC's children at a tender age should be taught lessons of empathy, love and that tolerance is not cowardice. A nation is not a handful of sand or acres of land. It's people whose hearts beat as one though bodies separate. Oh God if there be lead my people to this state off ecstasy

The time when the sun was bathing  naked in fire. He stood like a statue his very breath changing the direction of the wind. His eyes roving the edge of the glade, for any movement, a prey tied to a tree bleats in a weak voice out off boredom or fear. The hunter not stone hearted like the rest off his clan, feels for the bait and the prey.  Never has he shot a bird in flight neither rabbit nor deer. Skilled at many a weapon the bow and arrow his best. Uses them sparingly only to protect animal or one off his kind. This evening he is committed to bring down a cheetah bitten by a rabid dog. Fear off spreading the madness to occupants of the glade. The sun slowly slips closer to the earth casting long shadows, harbinger of the dark night ahead. The hunter becomes more alert for if he misses the prey, the bait would die a helpless death. Let us leave this kind and brave man with a prayer on our lips that he succeeds in his endeavor.

Many a time in subtle and other ways nature tried to warn us. Spewing fire from mountain tops flooding the land, water rising in high waves from the bosom of the ocean. Black plague it sent now a tiny virus. Not a lesson have we learnt not a line understood. While building tower of babel, it is said misunderstanding was sown in our midst, to stop us from our task. We still build tower's that touch the clouds and dig deeper than the deepest valley. Forgetting that simple living is the best. Want not more than your hand can hold, a bed to sleep a roof to protect from the cold, it was ment to be thus. Greed and false pride got us here forgetting that all we need is 6 feet of space our final resting place.

A lifetime as a teacher many a IAS, IPS have gone through his tutelage. The satisfaction of a job well done brings a smile to his withered lips.  He was patient with his flock age has eroded his sense of humor looses his temper at all around. They wait for him to take his last resting kith and kin alike have no time for him. One fine morning when the household woke he failed to rise with the sun. As they prepare him for his final journey by word of mouth a crowd gathers at there front door to pay respect to this grand old man. The said list of IAS, IPS, Doctors and more are some of them who have come to have a last glimpse of this great soul. As they watch they wonder whether a gentle smile had replaced the tiny frown on these lifeless lips.

If God was your neighbour in a village, you would have exchanged pleasantries, would have know by the look in his face whether he had lunch or not. His eyes would have told you if he needed a shoulder to cry. In the city in a flat if he was your neighbour would have met him in the corridor or lift occasionally giving and receiving a meaningless smile. If that's gods story just imagine the rest.

The only time the screwdriver slipped in the creators hand was when he made man. Every time a hungry one shares his food God smiles when he shares what is left he embraces him and takes him into his fold wondering how this one got it right. That's why good ones leave in  haste. One can be kind from footwear to hat or cruel the earth will bear both one with a smile the other a frown.

My list of friends are growing short, my table mates are disappearing. Fans I had none then and now the only fan I know is stuck to the ceiling. I wonder what they saw when they flocked around me and what they missed when they flew away. I haven't changed but for a few gray hairs on my head, laugh lines as I call them when they adorn my face on other's they are wrinkles. The intelligence of a five year old the mind of a teen, I've grown in weight and strength otherwise I remain almost the same. I've tried to change with the changing times but a feeble voice within me whispers though shall not. Within me I am a happy soul when the world desired great things mine was for an ice cream from the corner store.

Am I different I burn like the candle But shed no light neither for self, friend or foe. Am I an island due to faith or my  Own making I have the comfort of a soft bed company off my Kith and kin. Yet am I alone in the hell of my mind unknown to me. 

Mother brings a lot off memories The first perfume I smelt was hers as I snuggled in her arms. Years later when Angels needed her more than me I realized that she wore no perfume all her life, what I smelt was her love for me.  Now  know why angels look so beautiful it's because you and many a mother is there to braid their hair just right.

Lockdown, a housewife asks what may it be Staying home going nowhere for a month or so Oh I've been in that state ten and a score. Why do people complain its never boring as they say. Washing and the cooking the dishes and the floor only my aching back reminds me it's night. In school and college I was the star of the stage now my stage is the kitchen and the dining room the smile on satisfied faces I consider reward enough. Happy with my work satisfied with my state.