Ah! Brazil…So many beautiful people! So many beautiful memories! Where do I begin??? And where do I end??? If futball can bring the world together in a utopia like atmosphere where everyone is in love with the game, where words are not important, where communication with intentions and body language and miming take over it is simply a perfectly fine world.
I have been thinking about loss, ever since I read the prompt – ” Write about a loss”. Many memories came to life of people, places, relationships and farewells. Somehow farewell stuck with me, last day of school, last day of class with Miss Paul had felt like an ultimatum that had invariably brought a huge lump in my throat. It still does! Last day of my son’s soccer tournament, baseball or Robotics still makes me feel – sentimental, along with a sense of loss. What more? It simply happens there are no trumpets, drumrolls or people singing a farewell song.
Serially lost and Serially found are two sides of the same coin in one’s life. You can lose something! then you can find something and life goes. Somedays you feel like you have everything and you are on top of the world and other days you feel just the opposite. My father always likes to say, ” The sum total of gains and losses in one’s life, balances out eventually.” You come with nothing and you leave with nothing.
“Nothing Lost Nothing gained.” When we are little, we are happy to play Hide and Seek – the game of lost and found, when we grow up we continue to play the game, although with an added flavor of “awareness” that shows up once in a while. Farewells feel like losses, new friendships feel like gains and life goes on between the game of Hide and Seek or Lost and Found.
Pooranmashi ( full moon) after Diwali ( festival of lights), is that magical time of the year, that has always been special for me. The moon always has a special aura around it, after all it is the Gurpurab, the special day when Guru Nanak was born in Talwandi in Punjab, India, (now in Pakistan) 500+ years ago. It is that day, when I did not go to school in Bangalore, but went to the Gurudwara (place of worship) instead.
I was making matar paneer, – Peas with homemade cheese, when the aroma jolted me back to my childhood, in India. It used to be my favorite dish, especially the way my mother made it. Cubed pieces of paneer – homemade cheese floating in a delicious orange colored sauce. I could hear ” Chalte Chalte ” Farewell – blaring from a neighbor’s radio at 6:00 in the morning. Watching movies and listening to movie songs is a huge part of people’s lives in India. All my friends saw movies. So, I expressed my desire to see the movie Chalte Chalte a popular movie in the mid 70s, my mother glared at me and firmly declared, “No more movies for the next few years, they promote wrong values.”
So here is my post, free writing, no editing – no looking back – no correcting the typos …….I love free writing I can tell…….
It is a beautiful day, as if to make up for the beautiful day, the wind decides to show its presence and the rain decides it does not want to be left far behind. So, here we have the wind and the rain, a perfect ending to a beautiful day. The garlic is sprouting, I have a ton of rhubarb, that I don’t know what to do with.
I hear someone whispering, a face peeking into the window
Is it for real?
Heart is beating faster, my throat goes dry
I wish I could talk about one life-changing event, but can’t think of one. ” A fair or a music festival that I enjoyed”, well plenty! in fact, too many to count. It feels like, I am writing a sequel to the serially lost/found part three to me. Obviously if somebody evil were to take away something important or precious to me I would feel like I had lost something profound, and yet hope to find some meaning in the loss. I would feel miserable, sad and angry, all at the same time.
I am writing a letter to the first word I find on a random page in a random book. And the word is “Interesting”
Typing on my mobile with my thumb… the challenges and the conveniences of technology, I find you there. Otherwise, I have been missing you! I grew up listening to your stories. They were never boring…even when the king and queen died, I found you there! Even when I had listened to a story told over and over again, I found you there! You were my companion when I read the adventures of Fatty and the girls in the Malory towers, in books by Enid Blyton. I found you easily when I was a child.