find a man who looks at you like....

And if you can. it won't hurt if he looks like this either....;) 

Lathangi. the divine healing raagas.

Papanasa Sivan 

What beauty in his words!  

pirava varam tarum pemmane

pirava varam tarum iraiva marubadi
pirava varam tarum pirandalum un tiruvadi
marava varam tarum manila mel ini

parvati neya bakta Sahaya
bandam aradA vandarul ta ta
mundi / mundai vinai kOra chintakulam teera
endai un padaravindam tunai sera 

of blood तथास्तु

When the universe conspires it really does. 

I wanted to adopt a child every since I knew I could.  

At the time I first applied just out of meds school and the system said I wasn't thirty yet.  

When I got to thirty they said I don't have a medical disorder.  

Then came financial stability once that was alright they said get sign from relatives then they said I don't remember...  

At this point I am too tired of trying again. 

I always thought I'll have my own blood but first I wanted a child of my tears.  

The universe so cruel.  Said no.  

First no to my tears.  Now to my blood.  

Cruel.  

It's alright.  

I am done. 

I give up.  Have it your way.  

The dream I had last week of having a little one suckle.  I give up. 

I give up on being surrounded by that love.  Being enveloped by the warmth of my other looking on the woman and child with love warmth and protectiveness.  

They say you want something hard enough the universe works in mysterious ways to give it to you.  

Guess the air around me found that I was lying to myself about how much I wanted it.  

I don't want to be this old childless bitter  lady who manipulates everyone around her.  I have seen one and I don't want to be her.  

I am done. 

You win.  

I give up.  

Done.

 I close the chapter on this dream.  I declare it aloud that this is done.  I will not keep thinking or yearning this anymore. I will not look at the people who have wronged me and ask how come they have their children when I wasn't let to.  I promise not to be wishful about this anymore.  I declare this to you my universe.  I am done. No more.  You win. 

So be it. 

I have my children. the ones I teach every single one will be the one that I nurture.  Every single one will be my own child.  For better or worse.  I know none of them would remember me by the time they cross the river and face the next exam...  But I will shower each one with attention as I would my own. I will love each with every beat of my heart. 

I will the universe to give me good and kind children year after year.  

I will the universe to surround me with love and kindness. 

I will the universe to give me abundance to share. 

I will the universe to shower me with the   happiness of the children I nurture...  Not at my own bosom but with my kindness. 

I will the universe to give me kindness.  

I will the universe to let my path cross and travel along only with people who mean well are kind and are beautiful. 

I will the universe to let me have this. 

 

तथास्तु

of uniforms and the fancy

Ever since my high school I wanted to be a part of the army... 

I joined med school and had a professor in Ent who was a major on civilian grounds....  I admired him...  For his punctuality, his vocabulary,  his cleanness if that's a word. I never saw him joke trivially with female students the way another fair bespectacled man would from the same office....  

Maybe the minute I heard his name Major.P. I sort of just biased him more toward the pedestal I had for men in uniforms. 

I applied to the short service commission of the Indian Army,  I was told women were not allowed at that point of time and I let life take me it's way... 

I met a young Lt from the army,  he as seeing a friends friend but he happened to be a boy from my neighbourhood. Incidentally I used to play with my siblings in the park of his apartment while my religious grandmother used to wear the floor thin at the temple in the complex....  

So many years later did I meet his man,  other friends I had  his age were boys.  Rode his bullet. Short crop hair. Even a drive to the local roadsideshop warranted crisply ironed shirt tucked neatly into his khaakhis and shoes....  Oh God those shoes!  

The time he was topped by a cop while running a signal but the minute the cop approached this man didn't say a word and we were just let off,  with not a single exchange...  No id proof.  The cop apologised and saluted him. And he wasn't even riding an army bike or showing his badge.  Nothing. It was just he aura around him I think.... 

We had our birthdays just one day apart,  spent time sitting at the beach talking about his then girlfriend and how the long distance was strengthening their bond while I quizzed him n all things military,  his posting his training, life at the campus...  

I slowly gave up on the military dream that I had for myself.... 

And then while I was working mindlessly,  three shifts a day and just running from me place to another,  I met a man...  Crisp ironed shirt,  always white. Trousers also white.   White and white. For quite sometime I used to just walk with him during his rounds not knowing his name. Just BBK....  White haired man with the army man's bearing,  gentle reprimands,  subtle humor,  ironic gaze, methodical reasoning and a brilliant mind. Over the year people called him professor BBK,  but I was so taken up with him....  Eventually my bearded friend who's not bearded anymore showed me his letter head...  It read Professor. Captain. Dr. BBK....  And the army came back into my life....  I guess it never did go away in a sense.... 

A couple of months back I rode the elevator with the wise and punctual captain.  I felt so in awe that I bumbled about the Illuminati and free masons as a conversation.... I always smile more and watch more and try harder when he is there to learn and imbibe from him when he does grace with his presence....  It is just that...  His presence is grace....  

I always thought if I had kids I would send them to the army. Be it a girl or a boy. Serve. Learn. Fight. To be Brilliant people. Like he ones I have had the honor of watching and learning from.... Someday...  One-day..... 

The uniform will be a part of my life... I know it in my heart....  

The universe will give me this....  If not anything else...  It will give me this.... Of this I am sure.. 

When you say bye and don't know it's the last you see of them...  

It's like a falling star,  

The brilliantly beautiful flash of light which would be etched in memory 

You'll never catch a falling star 

There's no pocket to put it for a rainy day 

Coz there are too many rainy days more than what we can salvage...  

In the meantime....  

Listen to it... Sing with it... I love the song... 

Perry Como..  

:) 

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket save it for a rainy day.... 

unicorns pooping rainbows and Shit

Taller than me,  gorgeously good looking,  soul piercing eyes.  All things any teenager thinks of in her checklist for he perfect guy.  

All of this just gets enormously inflated when we watch the reel life stories. 

All the men are perfectly sculpted,  flawed but sensitive. 

All the women are perfect with smiles even when they are not in a great space.  Willing to sacrifice their needs for others,  putting their needs in the closet when others are met.  

Women who talk things to their other person and everything just gets better talking.  

The books and movies show sex to  be fairytale perfect where people see stars and the world becomes such a beautiful place where the colors become brighter the trees with blobs of green anymore but the blobs are actually beautiful little leaves just waiting to bed seen with a different perspective. And the perspective apparently changes once you meet a man or woman that just makes everything perfect and everything suddenly doesn't seem grey anymore but just explodes with color....  

I have a problem with that.  

The world doesn't have perfect people.  

The saying where we are each flawed and our perfect soulmate is the one that is also flawed to fit together like a jigsaw is nothing but utter rubbish.  

There are no soul mates.  

All this world is beautiful after is bullshit.  

The world is what it is.  Whether before or after.  No one event is going to make you see your life in color if your mind is tuned to black and white.  The mind then may appreciate the grey but not the rainbow of colors that the unicorn poops out. 

People are never the soulmate. There's no perfect sex.  No knight in shining armor.

No man is going to write me poetry however gifted a poet he maybe to others.  

No man is going to hold a person's hand nothing matter how much he is there for others.  

No man is going to recognise how much you have done for him even though he is capable of recognising and acknowledging the contributions of others in his life. 

Where, he takes you and what you do for granted so much, that he thinks you are the one taking him for granted.  

All this does happen. 

No one is going to say you are worth it, there is no happily ever after. There's always a work in progress and the other person needs to build it with you as much as you do.  

There is no perfect relationship,  it's always imperfect.  There probably is just a point where one of you will get tired of talking about everything.  A point where you just want to stay in your mind.  A point where the other person doesn't even realise.

But just hold it together.  

The attitude will come.  

Not soon.  

But hold it together anyway. 

No one person can decide your worth. 

No one can decide you are or aren't worth the time and effort.  

Just hold it together....

This too shall pass.  

There are times when we realise how trivial everything we think to bed important turns out to believe just that. Trivial.  

With this pandemic, it made me stay at home more.  Not escape to my safe space.  So much time with my little one that I realised what I have been missing,  every minute that I have robbed from her,  my presence. By just not wanting to come home....  

Makes me think about  what else i missed out on. 

no point in it all

There's a point in life where you question if any of it is worth it at all.  

The daily going to a place to put food on he table.  

Smiling at strangers and asking how they are doing and telling them you are good yourself.  

The driving to and from work. 

Everything seems so empty.  

What makes anything worth the life we live. 

It crossed my mind that I don't read anymore,  I don't listen to music anymore I have started being the person I used to question their purpose about.  

Routine.  Monotonous.  Machines.  

But then again,  when I read or listen what does it serve but for me to think that I'm doing something useful.  

It is only a point of self serving.  

Just to satiate my own mind and being that I am being useful.  

Useful to what 

Useful to who

No point in it all. 

Not OK.  

Nothing is OK. 

Alone.  

All alone.  

Lost.  

Can't find my way.  

Dark . 

Heart unbeating. 

Cold.

Gone. 

Too tired to carry on.