There is a monster..and other observations

There is a monster, roaring, clawing, raging, desperate and breaking loose - in deepest caverns of my inside. No, cant say thats in my heart, or my head, and lost my soul long back. But don't worry -it wont reach you - its been wadded in layers of sanitised, hospital white, middle class conformability, anesthetized sentimentality and blogger-prose expressibility, that can quieten fiercest of brutes - if it ever manages to even verge out.

I have a brute inside and he is not tame..is yours?
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I am buffeted within tiny confines of my dark cocoon - battered from one edge to next, hit by waves of convulsive coughs that shake to the core. I tolerate in zombie state of benadrylled calm - watch from outside the cocoon rocketing around and the creature marooned inside...between the stormy spells I watch the light filter through the uneven fillings of my quilt, sounds of normal home life, and the silence in my yard outside. I count seconds between spasms and try mental statistics - I also remember Proust.
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I have been fixating on this tiny fibre stuck to my blanket. It is finer than a hair, erect in an inverted 'L' and ruffles to the rhythm of my breath and my coughing bouts. I am trying to use 'mind power' to get it to swirl and point towards me. We struggle, it and I. Finally I give up - low on pranic energy these days.

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Cant believe that less than two weeks back I was jumping waves in 'Gopalpur by the Sea'. Cold water, colder breeze, tall waves, transparent green, bright lit. We gorged on "bhajas", played with "Rani" the kitten and wore shell earrings.

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Today I am sitting, staring out. Cold days are almost gone - bright warmth filters through green to reach inside my cage. A Bulbul has discovered my water garden, swings clutching at a vine, swoops to peck at the water, and fly away...it does this many times over. I sit watching it.

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The passion fruit vine is blazing with a row of flowers - right outside my window! Scarlett, opulent, exotic, very passionate - how much beauty I almost missed. Strange that its essence is used to 'pacify' in homeopathic remedies.

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Explanation...

Those of you who who have read the previous post on 'Seeking the Beloved' and are not networked into the Kabir-Songs, Bangalore group, might be a bit mystified by it. That poem-post was a response to a Sufi Fest that happened last Sunday in Bangalore also by the same name 'Seeking the Beloved'. This program of Sufi music from the Sind region of the country was organised by the 'Kabir Project' that has also been responsible for bringing other incredible musical gifts to this city, thereby enriching all our lives.

The first bit of my poem is a response to the joyous uplifting when Moora Lala sang in his inimitable style, his songs from Kutch. Moora Lala with his swirling mustache, 100Watt smile and
happy presence moved us all - literally! We swayed, clapped, beat to his songs and Parbat Jogi's rhythm on Dholak.

The second part of the program was by the Waee singers, Mitha Khan and Sumar Khan - this was my first introduction to Waee music and I confess it haunted my spirit, wrenched my soul,
and left a deep inexpressible, melancholy stain of not-finding the sought, one's ultimate true beloved, on my person...so the second part of what I wrote derives from that.

Lastly, I just express a hunch that surely seeking one's ultimate beloved, in the most spiritual sense would lie in being able to delve deep inside one's own self...

Sentuk- A Friend

I cannot be called an 'animal lover' in any strict sense- or at least how the word is usually interpreted-I do not have any space in my life for pets. I think pets - other people's pets-are best ignored, left alone. I don't remember ever having petted a 'pet', and have, so far, successfully and determinedly resisted my daughter's persistent efforts to get a pet home- a camel, a rabbit, dogs, cats....my strong preferance for animals is in the wild, and my attitude to domesticated animals is pragmatic.

So, it came as a complete surprise to me to take fancy to Sentuk-the pet dog in the guest home in Leh. I think my initial interest was piqued when the hosts were surprised at Sentuk's geniality and courtesy in my presence-Sentuk was known in the neighborhood to be ill tempered, ferocious and entirely hostile to all outsiders -he was barely civil to his owners, resisting efforts to be fondled, refusing invitation to a warm kitchen, or extra left over food.

Initially Sentuk and I acknowledged each other, just politely...I would call out "Hey Sentuk" to which he gave a tiny single wag of his tail, a minimal baring of his mouth in a short smile. However, quickly this relationship became a full fledged friendship. Sentuk would be sitting at his usual place on the terrace, overlooking the road with passing people, dogs, yaks, donkeys and the great mountains beyond. When I neared and opened the gate, he would give a short happy laugh-bark and rush down the stairs at full speed. He always went for my gloves first-a short game that we played where he would prance around trying to nip them off my hands; I sometimes let him win and then he would loose interest in the glove and return back to continue a game with me. I would by now be sitting on a little bench outside, removing my shoes, to enter the home, when he would nuzzle and furrow into me to lie with his head on my lap. I accepted this fondly, for a little bit, before saying " enough Sentuk" and get up. I would wonder at my truly surprising, almost shocking, acceptance of Sentuk's affection- was it because I was away from my family for so long? was it that lack of affection in my life, so far from home? but no, I wasn't missing anyone or anything-in fact, I was happy, content. I knew even then, it was Sentuk who was different, a kindred spirit, a new found friend - and just accepted him as such.

Beauty of My Hands

Today I fell in love with my hands. Lean, strong, calloused, my shovel, my forklift, my gardener, mason, handyman, worker, cook, artist, writer, lover, mother's hands to stroke her kids, hands that meditate, swim in strong strokes, expressive hands that gesture, talk, brown hands, with green veins, short stubby nails, warm, red, able hands-today I loved my hands that gathered dirt from gutters after the first rains, soft, dark, moist, sweet smelling of composted greens, fed it lovingly to the plants in my garden, dug holes and planted trees...my hands did all this for me...today I fell in love with my hands.