Reminisce The Unforgettable

 I have never really thought about aging even though I am gradually moving toward my golden years with  the silver crown in the making. Today, as I was trying to cross a busy road  my children cautioned me to be careful. It suddenly occurred to me that it was not long before I was telling the same to them. For a moment, I felt I was in a time machine and I could see the three versions of me: the past, the present, and the future! Couple of decades back I was this young woman brimming with life and its nuances with a dream to look beyond the horizon. Today, “the now of me” is trying to figure out the " why” of my existence. The “future”comes with the expiration date…..let it unfold as it may…. “With mirth and laughter let the wrinkles come”

Hey! Wrinkles I beckon you to weave a story of love, friendship, and laughter. As wise say, “ Youth is a gift of nature, but age is a work of art”

I started this page to share my perspective on the “golden years” lived. Time is that one “quintessential tough guy” that creates a bouquet of memories and moments that never fail to bring back that glimmering smile.

It’s great to relive our golden experiences in the form of pictures, videos, songs, or anecdotes. It does help as a soothing balm to the heart, mind, and soul.

      

                                                                          

The Lifetime Worrier!

It goes without saying that being an adult is synonymous with worrying. It somehow makes us feel more “mature and in control.” The number of horizontal lines on the forehead display the “WQ” or the “worry quotient” . If you are fortunate enough then you may have some verticals as well adorning the third-eye landscape. A somber look on the face with a few fidgety gestures seem to have everything right in place to call one a “successful worrier”

The growth curve of my “worrying career” looks more remarkable as compared to my “professional” one, giving me exponential returns and bonuses in the form of anxiety attacks and tachycardia. Is being a perpetual worrier bad? That’s debatable! I have worried about my daughter not being home on time, a school project left unattended till the date of submission, or what to serve at a birthday party. On a daily basis, this looks normal. But, if I take into account the number of years invested in worrying about non-consequential things then the data does look alarming.

Let’s stop for a moment and think….how many years we have spent on worrying about absolute useless things. How many sleepless nights we spent fretting over issues which we don’t even remember now. Is it not strange that we cannot even recall most of the things we worried about so sincerely. Only a few incidents can be reckoned that may have made you feel really anxious, for example a death of a family member or losing a job. In short, what remains of unprecedented situations with us is that which has impacted us the most. Others have just vanished into thin air.

Now, as I am aging I feel I need to check my habit of worrying unless I want to welcome unwanted guests like hypertension and cardiac issues. I regret not utilizing that “worry time” achieving something worthwhile like writing, socializing, or traveling. Let me replace the word “regret” as it sounds like a milder version of worry. Refrain is the better word.

The girl with the twinkle in her eyes........

                                                                             

Somewhere in the world there was a little girl with such splendid understanding that she'd see the entire cosmos like a poem or story.  Whatever her name was, she was pretty. She had thick mane of black hair, a quick smile, and a pair of twinkling eyes. The world was hers to make new discoveries and lasting memories. Her father was her mentor who encouraged her dreams and assured her that someday she would be living out her fantasy.

However, as time went by the girl was gone, buried in the past. She knew she was a woman for better or worse who had to follow the beaten path. She was married. She could see her little world of fantasy falling apart,but she was no ordinary woman. She clung to her passion for writing. Her pen was her best friend and the words her pearls. None could understand her for they had not lived her dream. Some chided her, some scoffed at her, and some sighed at the effort they thought was futile.

She was not an ordinary woman. She was a genius who lived in her own world of tangency. It was difficult to understand her. She was a strong and a brave lady. She knew that the life she was leading could not get her where she wanted to be, yet she continued doing what was expected of her.  It takes a lot of selflessness and guts to give up on something one believes strongly in.

None could see her sacrifice or the silent pain she underwent. Several times, she was misunderstood and misquoted. It had to happen because none could match her genius to understand what she wanted or expected.Perhaps putting it across in the layman’s language was just not her cup of tea.  

As the years flew by the little girl withered into an old lady. Somewhere deep inside she still clung to her childhood fantasies. The little girl’s flying gait was reduced to mere trudge. The faint old eyes replaced the twinkling eyes. Her shoulders stooped with the burden of decades. While everything changed; only one thing remained constant.It was her pen! It continued to be her best friend which still understood her completely.

Her story would have continued but one winter morning decided to dispel her from the darkness of this world.  It was a beautiful conclusion of a great passion. The girl with twinkling eyes bid adieu assuring that death was just the beginning of a second chance to fix all that mattered to her and her loved ones.  The noble, logical diagram once recorded never dies.  She taught us to aim high in hope and work  for she believed that there is light at the end of every tunnel.

The Soul Beckons....

I loved, I cried

I wept, I sighed

The tears were tides

That became harbingers

Of the ocean of my life!

My life a lie

Soaring high

Amidst the fantasy

Of dreams

Now seemingly

High and dry!

Foul cries the soul

Assuming that I play a righteous role

But alas,

The soul could know

That I need to shed the mortality

To relive the life of a soul!

TIME AND I......

                                                                  

 

 

ONLY, IF I COULD GO BACK IN TIME

TO RECREATE THE MOMENTS

WHICH WERE FILLED WITH LAUGHTER

LOVE AND HOPE;

 

ONLY, IF I COULD GO BACK IN TIME

TO GET BACK THE INNER CHILD

WHICH IS NOW LOST IN DEEP SLUMBER

SCARED TO WAKE UP TO THE HARSHNESS OF LIFE;

 

ONLY, IF I COULD GO BACK IN TIME

AND MAKE MYSLEF BELIEVE THAT

I WAS GOD’S SPECIAL CHILD

BESTOWED WITH VIRTUES

WHICH WERE SO PURE AND BEAUTIFUL;

 

OH! HOW I WISH I HAD THE POWER

TO RETRACE AND REWIND

BUT

TIME WAITS FOR NONE

IT FLEETS AND FLIES!

 

TIME!

YOU ARE A PROUD MASTER

AND I YOUR SLAVE

BUT DEAR,

HENCEFORTH, YOU WOULD JUST REMAIN A PROPOSITION

AS I RESOLVE TO REJOICE IN THE CELESTIAL LOVE

WHERE TIME SPELLS ETERNITY!

 

 

 

                                                                              

Memories

"Memories are the beautiful kaleidoscope of our lives, every time we look back they have different hues and different patterns but the essence remains the same....To live in hearts we leave behind is perhaps the most coveted dwelling….and the memories are the precious souvenirs that remain with us forever…a special literature which we carry within us always to flip through its pages when our heart tugs at some forgotten strings…" Sonal

"I treat life as an enigma so it never hits me hard. I let it unfold itself day by day and rejoice seeing the bounties it offers to me every day. Life is like a boxful of gifts; some you love, some you already have, and some you just want to give away…Every day I get up challenging life and ask her “Dear, what’s up next?” She smilingly reverts, “Surprises are lined up for the day…enjoy!!!!”---Sonal