First Times

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"When was the last time you did something for the first time?" This is one phrase my husband overuses. On our first date, our wedding day, upon writing the first love note, during our trips together, our cooking adventures, a game of scrabble or any random moment he surprises me with this question. I suggest you ask yourself this question and reflect for a moment.

Do you love trying out new things? Do you make an effort or do you succumb to the usual excuse about not having enough time? Are you stuck in a rut and wish for something "different" or "crazy" to happen? Of course most of us have hobbies to keep our creative sides active or go on holidays to unwind and relax but for many others these interests take a backseat due to various reasons.

I like trying out new things. I am totally in love with the idea of learning (one of the reasons why I enjoy teaching). I remember that even as a child, I was constantly on the lookout for new ideas, new games, new hobbies, new hideouts and "new" mischief! Trust me, doing something for the first time brings a feeling of freshness and joy of accomplishment no matter how silly a thing it seems. Who knows, you may discover something new about yourself - a talent an interest or even a quirk.

After the A to Z challenge, I desperately wanted to do something different. Unable to come up with anything interesting, I opened my cupboard and sifted through a cluttered pile of random things (stationery, greeting cards, dried flowers, paint and so on). When I chanced upon an abandoned drawing book, I almost shouted "Eureka!" 

What started off as a few overlapping free hand circles ended up like this:

And led to this:

I was hooked and so deeply lost in the drawing that my mom had to remind me of lunch time. It was a soothing experience that left me happy and proud. I definitely will do more of this when I get bored. But right now I'm on the lookout for new things to try :)

When was the last time you did something for the first time? Think of it and do leave a comment or even better, do something new today and then tell me!


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The Memory Box

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Tucked away within the powdery dust

of layered thoughts recent and crusted,

lies a memory box with secrets locked

by a promise ancient yet trusted.

A whiff of its dark air deeply perfumed

by a cherished childhood complete,

takes me back to days bygone

through objects that seem obsolete.

Its hesitant creak upon my touch

sends forth ripples of innocent laughter

from carefree days lived to the brim

with no worry of what came after.

I caress its contents treasured-

feathers dyed, leaves dried,

letters inked, stones that winked,

coiled cones bequeathed by the tide.

Cradled deep within my memory box

is a handful of special red seeds

and brown ones with silken white tufts

wedged between luck-bringing weeds.

The broken red of bangles, bright

as the untouched bits of a heart forsaken

Faded petals, dry and brittle

once crimson with the love I’d taken.

Inside my little memory box

that mirrors a life of perfection

I seek refuge on rainy days

to see a sunny smile on my reflection.

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The Open Door

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The jingling of keys and the hesitant creaking of the iron gates herald the arrival of the freedom that I have been longing for all these years.The reasons that drove me into committing that ancient crime seems smudged from memory but the moments of solitude and contemplation I spent within the prison walls remain as fresh as wet ink on paper.

The door opens to a whole new life ahead, but strangely there is no happiness or relief but a looming grey cloud of fear and uncertainty. Thoughts flowed incessantly within the four walls propelled by hope; the padlocks never attempted to confine them as I inked shreds of yellowing paper. But today as I walk out of the open door and merge with the madness outside I hear the click of a lock from somewhere within.

Written for the topic "Open" at Lillie McFerrin Writes

Poisoned Pleasantries

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Any social gathering, be it a wedding, a party or even a small family get together has a dangerous tendency to turn into a buzzing hive of gossip as long as there are enough people and delicious food to fuel stray sparks caused by snide remarks and incessantly wagging tongues that seem to have snapped free from the wiring that links them to the brain respectively. These meetings are the perfect times for people to catch up on each other’s lives, being “busy” at all other times. So it is quite natural that questions that prod, pry and probe into others’ lives are shot off at random, amidst the zillion interactions that happen over food and drink.

What I find absolutely amusing, is the ability of people to spice up even mono syllable answers and comments of others into emotional epics of melodrama and serve it to others. For example, a “well-wisher” asked me if I was pregnant, to which I answered in the negative. News spread that we as a couple had decided not to have kids and soon every other person in the crowd wanted my mother to “speak to me (and my generation of selfish youngsters)” to throw light on the folly of our decision. Talk about (bungee) jumping into conclusions!

At another function, someone passed a “well meaning” remark that my husband and I were saving money by eating less (both of us happen to be thin). Some others went to the extent of judging my culinary skills. Such remarks filled with malice defeat the whole purpose of getting together. Instead of going home with pleasant memories, one is often left wondering whether theses forced relations hold any meaning at all. Why make an attempt to keep in touch with people who eagerly try to bring you down all the time, no matter what you do or say?

Once, during a wedding someone went on and on in loudspeaker mode about how ugly the bride looked. I could only pray that she hadn't heard those rude words, for doesn't everyone want to think they look nice on their wedding? If only it is possible to press “mute” when some people talk! Now when I think of it, more instances surface to my memory. People commenting on the colour of your skin, your attire, your diet, your lifestyle choices, career (or the lack of it), how you choose to celebrate, where you go on a holiday, how you spend your wealth and so many other matters which I think are too personal to be dissected in public. People have their opinions, I know. But why air them all unnecessarily? Why is there a deliberate lack of connect between the tongue and the brain?

Of course, one way out is to shut these people out by giving them and their comments a cold shoulder. Sometimes it is not that easy, especially if the person is a close relative. Some people are sensitive and can easily get hurt by these bullets from mindless mouths. I don’t mean to say that we should be hypocrites and shower praise without meaning a word of it. But if we don’t have anything nice to say, isn't it better that we keep quiet. That’s what I do. Remembering the words of Mark Twain: If you have nothing to say, say nothing. How true- if you don’t have anything nice to say, golden is the colour of your silence.

Imprisoned

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Prisoner of thoughts,
a mind-set that rots,
confined and trapped
by  beliefs strapped.
Unable to spill out
of fear and doubt,
secured by locks
the iron gate mocks
at my helplessness
clueless restlessness.
An eternal wait
for a turn of fate,
a saviour with a key
to set me free.
I kept waiting
hoping, berating
the confining lock
a mere mental block,
I worried without pause
about a lock that never was.

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