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a story emerges-2 …

” I am severed from a world where words were never spoken, fingers never touched and eyes never locked. It thrived on sensibilities and mutual awe.

I tried to be brave and stay calm. I tried to go with the benefit of the doubt argument. But I also was aware that deep down, in my heart, I was sad. I was aware that my soul had suddenly grown a hump on its back – it was unable to walk straight because the hump of grief was weighing it down.

How do you feel when you suddenly find yourself alone on a deserted road – all by yourself? I ask. No one to share your pain with.
What Kind of a person would do that to you? I ask.

I dare not give the answer! “

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a story emerges …

A story emerges.

 He is friendly, too cute on her, puts her on cloud nine with his smooth talking, when she is caught – hook, bait and sinker – he changes color. Like a chameleon, he keeps changing colors. He starts blaming her for baseless stories and reasons. Then shouts, becomes rude, moody, sweet again, rude again – moody. Then one day just ups and disappears. Meantime she scratches her head and with a clear vision starts a backward journey and that is when she becomes aware of a shadow lurking in the background.
Appears that the shadow is a young girl, almost half his age.

 Why didn’t she see that before? Well simple answer is love puts blinders on your intelligence and your Common sense becomes a road kill.

She picks up the thread and starts counting the knots. Everything is loud and clear now. Ahem! excuse me but she discovers that he is a two timer. The “cry for love” letters he wrote to her were probably a ‘ copy, paste ‘

The shadow girl too goes hiding.

She emerges.  Looks like this one has more nerves than her predecessor – maybe.  would she too get jilted?

That is too early to say. But one thing is confirmed.
And what is that?

He is a psychopath.

( now  all I have to do now is  a little brushing up  and the story would be ready. This is not a new plot  … has been repeated hundreds of times but it is still people love to read.  Don’t they? )

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stars don’t talk …

 A very warm night was reigning over the town last night – dark and mysterious; Pulsating with many unsaid stories, unspoken promises and longings. A very bright half Moon was looking down and loving its beauty reflected on a calm and serene surface of the lake. Sitting on the back porch, I watched the houses on the opposite shore. Their outside lights were on and looked like minarets of light bathing in the calm waters, intending to go deep down to play with the sleeping fish

A group of people – probably high school kids, out for summer break from schools – were having a party. A contained fire was burning. Every once in a while, red and orange flames leapt in the air, illuminating the silhouettes of a small group of people sitting on the grass. Sometimes their laughter or some muffled word or two, riding on the air would land here on this side. Then two figures stood up and started doing a slow waltz on the green turf … fire in the background, smell of burning wood in the air and people scattered on the grass like shadows from the past! It was ethereal.

A hand stretched and stoked the dying fire and sparks rose to the sky where a half moon was playing hide and seek with some dark, some silvery white tufts of clouds …. It sure was a playful night, demanding love ….  cajoling, beckoning, smiling and dancing away the moments, weaving the memories.

I changed my side on my patio recliner and looked at the sky – an ink blue vastness where the clouds were floating and the moon was sending moon-beams to the restless souls. I found my star twinkling on the far west side of the sky.
“hello” I whispered. “are you there? I see you every morning, I look at you every night – do you know that ? But that does not make anything any easier. Do you know that?

But stars don’t talk … or do they?

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I am thinking …

Last Wednesday I was on the road again. I mean another long drive. Invited to dine at a friend’s. It was good … met some old friends. Sitting there, talking, listening, and enjoying, a question popped in my mind. ‘ how old is old? ‘ I am a scatter brain for sure because it is always busy at different levels. I am there and yet not there. I listen , participate in the conversation but … I do my… best not to seem to be absent minded.

‘how old is old? eleven years plus twenty six years equals to thirty seven years. Oh my! thirty seven years !! we have been friends for thirty seven years ? seems like it was only yesterday that some one introduced us. She needed a lift and a driver was coming to drive me home. (I was trying to get a driving license but the policy there was to make it difficult for women drivers to pass the test… Sorry, I strayed. I was talking about my friend )

So, while driving her to her house, we introduced ourselves properly and somehow, while talking about our families, our countries, interests, our children, we just clicked. I have no idea how could that happen because I am reserved, rather quiet, more interested in listening than talking. She is the total opposite. The only common thing was our love of listening to a good “marsia” and appreciating a good majlis by a learned aalim. I think that was what bonded us.

Now The question is why some friendships, you want to hold on to but – even putting your life on line – you fail. Sometimes we have the same roots, almost ditto likes and dislikes, move in our own spheres, but love to get to-gather for a lively healthy exchange of ideas. Respect and care for the other’s life and responsibilities and yet nothing seems to work. Strange, isn’t it. There has to be a reason – a powerful, believable, reason.
I discussed this to my “thirty-seven year friendship” friend. She didn’t take time to give an answer. “The only thing is gender difference. If one is a man and the other is a woman , things become complicated.”

Maybe she was right.

July, 11, 2013
11:14 Morning.

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a new world

So how is life?
Life says I is fine; thank you.

Month of Ramadhan is almost here. My younger son has already started fasting. He was telling me that during lunch hour he goes to their Conference Room if it is not in use at that time, and his Kindle gives him company. Kindle definitely has  integrated in our lives.

I sometimes wonder if we are heading towards eliminating speech and start communicating only via text, and such.

In early sixties when TV came to our house, I was upset because suddenly evening activities were decided around TV viewing. Family get to-gathers were restricted, rerouted or rare. Come evening and the family would sit around the set, watching something or the other. Evening walks became history.
Then came the Internet and the world was not the same anymore. Whatever little semblance of the old world was there – GONE!

No complains. On-line ‘thingy magic’ has many benefits too.  When I received my first Kindle, I was a little weary. Letting go of paper books was hard. The smell of a leather-bound book is so exhilarating! I am not joking but having a book in my hands was an ultimate ‘High’. It still is. But I am also used to reading on Kindle now. Right now I have 18 books on it. If I think about the paper books, I also have to think about space. And to say the least, my two four shelf each, big book cases are brimming. There is absolutely no space for even a thin volume. Then there is the question of cost. Its about half the cost of a paper book. Sometimes even less. My Amazon buddy works for me like a network of libraries. I have set-up an account with them. So any book is just a click away. Only regret is, I cannot order Urdu books from them and there are hoards of Urdu books  that I would like to read. But getting a book from Pakistan is not easy. Funoon, an Urdu, literary magazine was sent to me from Karachi in the middle of June. We are approaching middle of July and it is still somewhere on its way.

Girls are busy today. They were already on the breakfast table when I went to the kitchen for my cup of tea. empty glasses of chocolate milk pushed aside, heads touching, they were busy on I-Pad. They looked up, gave me a smile, said salaam to me and then – I was dismissed! They went back to what they were reading and enjoying. My lovelies!!

I wish love, compassion, peace and a prosperous future to all the children of the world.

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book of life …

  I see the darkness finally curving around my universe. It will soon reach the whole perimeter and close the circle. I feel numb; but this should not matter., should not be so. I enjoyed my journey on – not so familiar grounds. I have also felt that this was a gift that only lucky ones get. Yes only few lucky experience such unique moments, such pristine feelings. But unfortunately, every rose comes with a very fine, sharp, piercing thorn and we pay the price for not being careful.

 We also know that where there is darkness there is light too. We don’t care if darkness engulfs the light. Why? because if it was dark, we were also sure that light was not too far.

 And if we were sure of being on the same wave length, how can we now say that it was not so. We were, even for a short while, but we were. So what if we were smug that nothing could go wrong, and again – so what if this notion – all exhausted, all breathless – started staring us in the face. We were chosen to enjoy a gift! Does it matter if it was for a short while? 

There is something else too. One of the two is inevitably weaker. Bewildered at the intensity and enormity of the whole thing, tries to make some sense of the feelings, desires, wishes and finds out that that was a futile search. What happened, happened and there was no going back and if you did, you would only get heartache. It was certainly built on a fault line. 

“ I know its not you.

This is my fight, with myself. Problem is I don’t know how to get this thing out of me. Problem is I care way too much. Problem is you are part of it. And the biggest problem is this whole thing is not right.

I wish I had some magic wand and I could be invisible. “

 These were her last words.

Then she over-dozed!

End of story. 

But problem is things do not always end this way. They take their own course. And vulnerability being the central player, fate intervenes and …..

I am stumped. Story does not move any further. Hmmm. Okay, I will move a few things here and there, make some changes … that probably would work.

A writer is the god of his / her creations! 

Okay then ….. , 

After breakfast, the table was cleared, she thought about the work ahead. Not much to do – she thought and leaned back in the chair. He had come back last night. – they had drifted apart one more time and as usual one of the two had offered the olive branch and things were ‘ business as usual’ again, like the ‘waqfa’ had never happened. She smiled and looked at him like always, with her inner eye. Suddenly she sat up. There was a horrific expression on her face like she had seen a ghost. She was unable to remember the shape of his nose. How can a face be complete without a nose!! 

I have no way of knowing what he thought. Did he smile after he had read what I had written for him? I was calm, though I was going in for a major surgery. I never asked, he never mentioned. 

“Today I’m out wandering, turning my skull

into a cup for others to drink wine from.

In this town somewhere there sits a calm, intelligent man,

who doesn’t know what he’s about to do!”

― Rumi

 ( Book Of Life. by Riffat Murtaza )

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happy is the soul that grows a garden …

A beautiful day – a happy day after so many dull drab and dreary days.

I thought I was falling ill again. But then suddenly weather changed. Low clouds, heavy with vapors, mist over the lake, a cool gust of wind and like a cherry on the top, our Sand Hill Cranes dancing a few vigorous steps. Now staying indoors was sacrilegious. Perfect day to go to a tea house. Unfortunately we do not have any here. This is Florida, a tourist destination, a fast food haven and going to a fast food place and drinking tea, smelling fried food smell wafting from the kitchen was not on my cup of tea. I went to Home Depot Garden Center.

Oh the flowers! so many kinds, shapes and colors! Suddenly I smelled roses and for sure there they were – riots of colors! Over here they have doctored the roses to the perfection but robbed them of the fragrance. Finally someone has thought of putting the fragrance back in these beauties. I can smell these roses – red, yellow, burnt sienna, dirty pink! Bought some planters, soil, seeds, and a small trellis too. It was fun. The only deterrent from buying more was; my cart was full to the capacity.

 And then it started raining.

I was suddenly transported to Wah, My beautiful Wah! This time around my mother and our gardener used to have the most serious talks. Back verandah, their “conference Room ” was the place where seed, seedlings, flower beds , vegetable beds and pruning of trees, trimming of hedges was discussed diligently, drinking teas, and Zarin Khan enjoying Rehmat bibi made  ‘samosas!

Rest in peace mama and thank you old man Zarin Khan, for making a garden grow.

Memories !

May, 29, 2013
4:44, Evening.

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love is a funny thing …

Last night I was at the Islamic center. After the program was over, I called my hub and told him that if  he was ready, I was ready too – to go home, I mean 🙂

In the Parking lot, near our car, I saw something shining. I picked it up. It was a silver ring. I looked around to see if I could show it to whoever was there. No one was there so I put it in my purse. I knew the next day also there was a lecture and we intended to come. I thought I would give it to one of the committee members.

So today, when I took it out and looked at it, it was a silver band and the word ‘Love’  was inscribed all around it. Definitely a very special ring!

While handing it over to the Chair Lady, I said, jokingly

Yesterday, I found ‘love’ in the parking lot. “Oh really? lucky you!” I  laughed  “oh yes, that I am. Here is the proof “.. and handed the ring to her

“Are you sure it was not for you? some secret admirer left it near your car.” Well in that case, I’ll be justified if I kept it. Finders keepers you know”

“You would be breaking someone’s heart.” Now her daughter took the ring and looked at it closely. I think there is another ring – see this groove? the other would fit in here.

Okay, so find her then

Yes, two people -friends – husband and wife – girlfriend and boyfriend … certainly a pair !

We all laughed and agreed that finding the ring person was very important.

It was a long – I mean a real long session and I was a little tired so while coming back home, I decided to spend some time with my albums. This is my mantra , my ultimate relaxing exercise.

Every one in bed, handing the house over to me, I took out some albums at random.

Venice!!

… and the memories started tumbling down. What a beautiful time it was!  The tour package was four nights in Venice.

On the last night there, we went  for the Gondola ride. The trip started from St. Marks Square. Bill and Marrie – an older couple we had met on this tour – and we two with our two children were in one boat. We had a lovely time on the Canal. Going under the Lovers Bridge, taking pictures, receiving Geraniums thrown from the people sitting in Canal side cafes, at passing gondolas, cat calls, kisses being blown on the air ! It was fun. Italians are really fun loving people … happy people, ready to laugh with you, ready to make you laugh!

Suddenly our Gondola man started singing some Italian song, probably a romantic number. He looked at four of us, expecting some show of emotion. The sixty plus couple just laughed, just looking at us like putting the responsibility for the boat man’s demand.  But us two?  there was no question of a public show – not  in a hundred years!  Especially when he makes sure that there is at least a yard and a half’s distance between us when in public.

Romantic? us? no sir, no way 🙂

After the ride we sat in the Square and had Late’ . The children enjoyed their hot chocolate. Then the bands started playing and the couples started getting up to dance. We watched some then got up to go to the hotel. The group was starting early the next morning.

Bill, my other half and children were walking ahead of us. Marrie and myself were following them, walking slowly, talking, telling jokes, laughing. When we were getting down the Square’s stairs,  a young Italian passed us by running, then he turned and facing us, started running back words, saying something loudly. What is he saying? I asked Marrie “what did you say? Marrie asked him loudly ” I lovva ya, my fair ladies ” he said equally loudly… lovva you ” he said again blowing kisses. He turned again and ran off.

” what a nut case ” Marrie said. ” but how romantic!”  “oh I lovva ya” she tried to copy him. We laughed, almost falling over each other. Our men turned and looked at us to see what was making us behave like this. That sent us in stitches ! It was certainly Venice!

Oh Venice!!

George Sand, Robert Browning, Lady Ash Burton!  Previous night sitting on our hotel’s terrace, we talked about every one who came to this place. Cathrine Mansfield? no one was sure she ever ventured this far. This damp climate was bad for her anyways, we decided. I never tried to look up to get this information straight.

I put the album down, refreshed.  Thought about a dear friend,  assuring , that no matter what, my love for you shall always be as fragrant as always ! Maybe one day we’ll go there to-gather again and if not then that is okay too.

And then there was Abu Dhabi too. How can I forget that place? Hot and humid, big houses, High rising buildings, villas and shining cars but no humanity! Dull and drab, bloated with money,. But I still love and remember that place. It was an oasis of a different kind … a Cornish to the sea of  ….. but that is for another time. And the time I spent there was a long time ago. May be things are different now.

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demons …

She came to me, one afternoon. Sitting across, telling lies, she made me laugh and sometimes cry.

With a heavy heart, I saw her wrestling with her demons. Lying about things imagined to appease her hunger for lost respect and love. Her soul was hurting, I could tell. One lie she lied about a father, one lie about a woman. One lie about a wife who never was her mother. Sparing mothers was not her norm, though a mother herself. She lied about herself and lost a sense of pride,  but she never said a word, why was she where she was –

she wasn’t on a hunt, to place the one who stole her father’s heart. She was out to validate her sins playing a blaming game, her lies were her only strength. I was sorry, her time was lost – the time she was her own child.

Telling lies, weaving webs, “I have to go”, she suddenly said.

And that was a life, sacrificed on a father’s false pride that pushed a daughter to a life that never was hers. Not having a son was not her fault but still, she had to pay the price.

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disorder …

Our female Sand Hill Crane has left her male. I think the reason is his eating disorder and she has just had it!  She has decided that since this Eating Disorder Syndrome  has now gone beyond any treatment , it would be better to part the ways.

Okay,  I’ll give you the background of their breakup.

Their feeder is always filled at night and in the morning when I  get up, I  see the female standing in the middle of the yard looking over at the lake. She probably has had her meal and is now waiting for him to finish.  But every time she looks back she sees him eating – just – eating oblivious to his surroundings or what his female is thinking looking at him eating like this. Once in a while  the female bird would turn her long neck towards her male and start coming back then stop and turn back again and stand a little farther this time.

When checking on him periodically didn’t work in her favor, she started something new , like  walking away, leaving the backyard. When the male saw this the first time, he left his eating and ran after her. That was a funny sight but it worked.  So  now they would come , eat to-gather then she would stand aside letting him have a go at the food a little longer then start walking away and he would run after her a little while after.  Then a day came when this tactic also stopped working.

They didn’t show up for a few days.  That was normal.  But keeping what we had witnessed we jokingly said, they probably are talking things over, or maybe seeing a shrink . But even though they had done that a couple of times before – I mean this disappearing act – we were eagerly awaiting their return.

They came back after a little over a week  and the same tableau was performed – but this time with a drop scene. Totally strange!!

She was standing there patiently; once or twice she looked back then started walking towards the lake.  He raised his head from the feeder, looked at her but then satisfied that she was just going to the lake to wade in the water or something , resumed his favorite hobby.

Then we heard a loud cawing sound. The female was running in the yard, flapping her huge wings, like she was too mad to control herself – too agitated. This dumb guy didn’t move an inch away from the feeder but looked at her, though. Then the female took a last run and flew away. This gentleman went to the edge of the lake to see where she was heading then probably thinking it a “usual female behavior” came back to his plate.

No one showed up for a week, meanwhile the ducks without any kind of threat from anybody, had the nonstop feast fearlessly. Then one day the “He Man” returned minus his Mrs. and chased the ducks away.  After that it was business as usual and still is.

Seeing just one Sand Hill crane walking around is an unusual sight   They always move in even numbers like twos and fours.  But this guy? his disorder took better of  the norm.

In humans we usually think that Eating Disorder Syndrome stems from some deep rooted need  like love, care, nurturing etc and needs Psychological evaluation and treatment.  But a bird?

What is his problem anyways?