tiny thought

 And I am still reluctant to budge...

Dream on...

Dreams about puffy feathery seeds... flying in the air... (know what they are?)
dreams about unscathing sunlight...  dashing only warmth and not scotch*
dreams about whiskers waving in the air from a cherie river, poking fun and tickling the air... looking through it the dark pearly eyes of crayfish... black as the rarest black pearls from the scarce osyters that float among hidden seaweeds and corally rocks...

dreams about thundering horse hoofs...sprinting through woods and into plains and into woods and into plains.... in search of the sweetest grass... flaming flavouring sweetness of the morning dew dashed with rainbow flavouring...

dreams are best when eyes are lulled, on a warm peaceful night...on silent waves with silvery stars... a sea in the galaxy, or perhaps a galaxy of seas...

Pretty Moments

There are always things that we hope to catch, but missed as we could not do both at the same time. Appearing at two different places at the same time. I had wished, a countless times where I could dive into sunlit fields, wondering among shadows of tree canopies, bathing in waterfalls, hiking at slow pace the mountain trails instead of keeping myself awake with deep dark circles under my eyes, thinking what was  best for my assignments.

I would love to sneak up at every creek, every creak, every crate, pampering myself with all the fascination of views, life and moments which had been missed with deep remorse. I am always tied with invisible knots that need to be undone at the right moment lest I am strangled and thrown down the canyons. Though that sounded appealing. What is better than experiencing the rush of adrenaline, a spectacular view of the whole canyon from top to bottom. It is to die for literally. Much more will go unnoticed once things grow. There are less time for petty stuff and more for the next stage. I will see the child once more if I worked hard enough. People do often say that those who work hard do not get much enjoyment in life. Yet, I feel that my enjoyment was much more meaningful. Deadlines and little to spare time makes me appreciate whatever enjoyment that I had planned for those precious few moments. I made the most of it. When we have too much time, we tend to not cherish it as much as if we have little. The best part is, such precious moments are fresher in the mind than what we are doing, say, during a very very long holiday. You do not remember much what you have been doing when time is plentiful, you just did something to kill time as there are no deadlines to meet, no expectations to look forward to before it comes to and end. That is why people on the death bed cherished their time so much, they have bucketlist which are guaranteed to be realised no matter what. The will to experience one last time moments that have been missed when there are plenty of time to kill is indeed important to those people who need to meet their dead lines...

The busier one is in life, the stronger the will is to enjoy whatever moments there are to and could be enjoyed.

 

The Monsoon days...

Juicy leaves picked, washed and dried...
Tossed with local dried fish paste in hot oil...
sizzling in the pan on a humid afternoon...
sounded familiar?
Nah... I am not talking about the poem...
I am talking about my life of contentment...
which left not but a few days...

Letting the sentiments cave in...
the blissful bluish light...
the warm breeze...
it is not a bone chilling cold here ever...
it is not as cold as the faces on the road...
not as hard as the pebbles beaten by the roaring waves...
there is just simplicity...
in the revelation of true nature...
just the contentment of being with it...
not wanting to leave...
the cocoon of comfort...
the smell of home...
full of  bee-filled grace, and butterfly dances...