Bravery, thy name is Babycakes!!!

Today wasn’t just another fairy tale; it was a little more than that. Today a princess just refused to let the dragon carry her away…..

Two months back a dear friend of mine, Babycakes (both of us call each other by that name for the last five plus years since I have known her) was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma, a kind of cancer. The first thing she told me after breaking the news of her sickness was, ‘it’s really not a big deal, stay off of Google’. If that sounds fearless, read on.

She just started chemotherapy to ‘zap it out’ as she puts it, and while it was not possible to prevent her hair from falling off, she wanted to do it on her terms. She took it all off today in a celebratory event.

As I parked my car in one of the back roads near Kenneth Square, and headed uphill to the venue, I walked through a sidewalk sandwiched with flowers on both sides. When I reached the venue for the event, Flickerwood Wine Cellars, she was there, dressed in a beautiful grey dress and a pinkish yarn-dyed coat with the ultimate piece of chunky jewelry, looking like every bit the celebrity in her own right.

Big hugs and a few fun pictures later, she took her seat on a tall bar-stool and sipped a frozen Margarita as the hair dresser started taking her hair off. Wait! It doesn’t end there – she did it in stages – this time it was a fun Mohawk, and guess what, even though she wasn’t buying our words ( especially the ‘you look like Justin Bieber’ compliment), she looked even cooler….nah…Hotter!!!

She took a break and consoled someone who was getting emotional, socialized a little more and took more pictures before taking it all off in the next round. Her two young children were standing side by side, trying to fight back tears through smiles and hugging each other intermittently. Her mom was throwing compliments about how whether she liked it or not, she looked great. I’ve always thought that she had the most vivaciously animated face that I have seen, and taking the hair off only took it to an even higher superlative by increasing focus on it.

I left soon after and as I walked downhill through the same road, I couldn’t see the flowers anymore since it was dark. But I knew that they were there, I could feel them. It was only a matter of the sun rising again to see them. And the sun would definitely rise again

….and she will live happily ever after!

Black or White - It don't matter!!!

I have been reading a little bit of Sufi poetry for some time now. This is a poem in Saraiki (a dialect of Punjabi) composed by a great Sufi Poet Hazrat Khwaja Ghulam Farid. I made a very humble attempt to translate it in its essence, so my friends could feel its beauty too.

“Kis wal akheya wey Majnu nu,
O teri Laila disdi kaali Ve
Majnu ney jawaab ditta,
O teri akh na dekhan wali

Je tu dekhen meri akh naal
Teri surat na jaaye sambhaali Ve

Ved vi chitte te Quran vi chitti,
Vich siyahi rakh ditti kaali Ve
Ghulam Farid jitthe akhiyaan lagiyaan,
Otthe kya gori kya kaali Ve!”

Translation:

‘Oh Majnu, what’s wrong with your sight

Your Laila looks as dark as the night’

- When someone said with spite

He said:

- Let me shed some light

With my eyes, when you see,

She’s a form of divine beauty

The Vedas are white, the Quran is white,

It’s the black ink that makes them shine bright, 

Ghulam Farid says -when you love someone,

It don’t matter if you’re black or white

Happy Friendship Day!!!

Reflections!!!

Tried my hand at some Urdu expression and the English one just happened!

Khumaar

Ek ajeeb si bechaini

Kuch kar guzarne ki chaahat,

Apne wajood ki talaash

Ya dil ki raahat ?

Dil mein hai hulchul

Man mein laakhon khayal,

Inhe khwaab kahoon

Ya uljhe hue saawal ?

Kahin toh leke jayega

Ye khumaar,

Shayaad hai koi jagah

Gul-e-gulzar

***

Haze

A fuzzy restlessness

To do or die – A desire,

A quest for myself

Or my heart’s composure?

The heart is edgy

The mind  - a flock of reflections,

Are these dreams

Or bewildered questions?

This whirl will lead me somewhere

Through this haze,

Of a thousand flowers

Maybe there’s some place

***

A Walk To Remember -II ....Joy is like the rain...

‘I saw raindrops on my window

Joy is like the rain’ 

When we were little, this was one of the hymns that we would sing at the top of our voices, our cacophonous symphony being conducted by one of the nuns, from our school St. Mary’s, on the piano. It took us a few years, to truly realize the charm of the showers, and the glee that it filled our hearts with.

Shillong is not too far from Cherrapunjee and Mawsynram, both of which had the distinction of qualifying as the wettest place on earth, for several years. So the town itself experienced spells of rain that sometimes stretched into a week. Those would be the days and nights of an unceasing, whining, drizzly kind of rain. The dampness pervaded everything from shoes to books to mattresses. The only thing that it couldn’t dampen was our young minds. They sprang up, as lush as the greens, with its touch. The most enjoyable part of the rains was again and of course, our walks to and from school.

Dark Brightness

Blue, green, red, golden
Mottled colours
I made your rockets, chocolates
Your electric-sparklers

Your child's visage
Reveals my age
But your child's mind
Doesn't bind
My revelations of God's rage
My value of my daily wage

When your purchased colors
Painted your skies
Mine faded forever
Did you hear my cries?
Or just bangs and blasts?

So for you bright lights,
Variegated colours
For me pitch blackness,
To live life's hours

This is another one from my angry teens.The fireworks industry in Sivakasi, India employed thousands of child workers and many of them got injured and blinded while working with the hazardous materials, which also shortened their lives. The situation is supposedly much better today with NGO campaigns and government action,even though it seems some units still employ children especially during summer vacations.

Jungfrau Visited

While the sun shines

Make hay,

I knew forever

Not the real way

Fields of green

Turn shades of brown,

As the farmers

Mow them down

Pied beauty

Of lucid purity,

For miles around

Defying serendipity

Orko and the Hunger Games – Reality Style!!!

His name was Orko - it came from the word urchin, Papa said teasingly. Ma had a better explanation – she said it came from the Sanskrit word Arkin meaning ‘radiant with light’. Orko was their third child – the one they decided to adopt as a baby. They had two kids of their own who were big brother and big sister to Orko. The arrival of Orko has brought with it, change in fortunes for the family who were going through some tough times. So, Ma was totally convinced that he was their lucky charm. Orko Chatterjee was two years old now.

Even though he was an outsider, he was treated with much love by all of them, especially Ma. Orko loved Ma the most as well. He would spend long hours just sitting and watching her move around the house doing her chores. She was a tall slender woman and always wore sarees. He loved to play with the folds of her saree and brush against them while trying to devour some of the maternal affection, and give some back in return.