When I published my debut book, ‘Sublime Shadows of Life’ my excitement was at cloud nine and I got some copies printed for friends and family and sent them, even to those friends whom I met occasionally or had not met since school days.
One of my friends who had not been in touch with me for a long time rang me up and asked: ‘Are you okay?’
I replied in affirmative and asked why was she asking.
She had a grim tone and said: ‘Is everything going well in your life?’
I laughed loudly at the tone of my fun-loving friend and asked her what was wrong with her.
She told me that she got alarmed at some of my poems, which talked about oppression and dark moments.
Though I had mentioned in the blurb “I, you, he, we and they are universal symbols, which highlight the fact that happiness is not a destination…” but who reads the introduction!
Authors draw inspiration from life and people around them and many of them agree that they do creep into their stories.
Some of my poems do give a peep into my life. I have written about an incident that moved me deeply. Some of my poems are an emotional outburst; some are inspired from the life of my friends but all of them are not about me.
This one is. I hope you would understand who this pearl is.
Wendy, a spiritual poet, has shared her thoughts about this topic “I have written poems about defining moments in my life. Although at that time, I may not be aware that I am writing about a moment that I would consider life defining. There have certainly been life defining moments that I did not write about at the time, but a reference to the event came much later in life as a line or stanza in a poem, as with my father’s death when I was 19.
Ritu too has written about life defining moments: “I think one of my most poignant poems about my life was the one I wrote one morning, in 10 minutes, about my journey to become a mother…” She has shared that poem with us:
Lisa has shared a poignant poem that she wrote during the difficult moments of her divorce.
PRAIRIE PRISON
Here I sit in my Prairie prison
I have known
Great joy and worse sorrow
Here I sit in my home
Longing for more…
Lisa Thomson
The ocean
And mountain peaks calling
I make this prison home
I look out of my window
While the prairie winds blow
Dust in my eye, pebbles in my soul
Here in my prairie prison
I long for my Ocean boy
The one and only
Yet some ties bind and clasp me
Fastening me to a make believe home
Among wheat fields
Can you blame me?
I bore my children in a prairie home
A landscape so flat
It cannot compare
To my wild, sea salt air
I would be gifting two ebooks of Sublime Shadows Of Life, my debut book to those two readers who write the most poetic answer to all the posts I publish this month – #NationalPoetryMonth. Happy writing!
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Last week I received shocking news, which transported me back into time…those pleasant days of sitting for hours in the company of friends, those carefree moments that seemed to suggest life is blissful. We basked in its glory, oblivious of the fact that we would go our own way, get busy with the nuances of life only to meet occasionally and that too if we made special efforts to synchronize our visits to our home city.
Time is ephemeral, but we keep drifting back into it whenever it exhibits its tyranny!
This tyrant snatched away those insouciant moments we still treasure. Ironically… it brings back those whiffs of friendly fragrance more at such times of bereavement.
Happier times pass by complacently, with the thoughts that all is well and we have all the time in the world to meet.
Could we ever imagine that a day will come when we would be far away from each other, yearning to be together in the grief of one of us?
Could we ever reflect that we would be placed thousands of miles away and the word ‘friendship’ would stand before us in a questioning mode?
Could we ever think that one of our most effervescent and vivacious friends would be the first one to face the biggest setback of life…losing her husband and that too at such a stage when life starts afresh?
I always thought that I have become impervious to setbacks, having the experience of facing them since childhood but each one brings new emotions and memories. This one jolted me out of my illusionary world of thinking ‘everyone has to go and so must I.’
I often say I am ready to go, unmindful of the sentiments of my dear ones. I preach selflessness but in the process forget certain emotions that are vital to heart despite detachment. Today these emotions are hitting me hard from a new angle. They remind me that detachment is a mere word…a delusion to keep us occupied to deal with the struggles and realities of this world.
Real detachment is painful and the laceration never heals as it is eternal…it is like amputating one part of the body.
Recently I came across an interesting perspective about time – “Time does not heal, it just teaches us how to live with the pain.” This outlook appealed to me and as I look back, I nod to myself how true it is as time has blurred my agony and hurts and I have learnt to live with them.
I know my wishful thinking can never put us in the same boat of blissful friendship we shared but we can provide solace with our words. We cannot bridge the distances but we can be with each other in spirit.
As I grieve over the loss and loneliness of my dear friend, the words of a famous poet come to my mind: “If moments were birds, I could have caged them, nurtured them with care, fed them with pearls and kept them close to my heart…”
Moments do get entrapped in our hearts and we can revisit them through our “inward eye.”
“A friend is what the heart needs all the time.” Henry Van Dyke
‘The greatest gift of life is friendship’…Have you received it?
Thank you for reading this amalgamation of emotions. Please add your valuable reflections, they are much appreciated.
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There was a time when “Five” was my dearest friend or a compulsive pal…she always chimed in as a loud, musical buddy, trying to remind me that I couldn’t survive without her, I would deeply regret if I disregarded her and therefore I had to share my steaming cup of tea with her.
No longer so! I dumped and divorced her and found my freedom. She continued to arrive even when I snapped off the musical chords she loved. I know I was callous but I had found another friend – ‘Eight’ who believed in liberation, who accosted and accompanied me into all those cool corridors of the dream world.
I owe a deep gratitude towards my dear friend “Five” for making me what I am today, for all those reflections she shared, all those words of caution she spilled around me and the plans she made for me to keep myself and my family happy and healthy, providing me with enough time to step outside and walk in the beauty of the first rays of the sun before I could rush to my work.
Isn’t that what we expect from friends? A true companion, who gave priority to my needs, caressed me when my limbs refused to leave the comfort of bed, reminding me that the moment I move my butt, I would be happier!
She taught me forbearance, calmness and patience. She walked hand in hand with me to the milestone of punctuality, acquainted me with the virtue called self-discipline. She impressed upon me the value of time but I detested her each morning for coming too early, yearning to shun her. She was quite understanding, as she gave me a breather on weekends!
I appreciate her noble nature as she still comes uninvited with her reminders, pulling me out to gaze at the eastern horizon, inspiring me to lift the pen that I pick up at will, motivating me to record those lovely moments of mesmerizing meetings, minutes of which gleam in my poetry.
‘Eight’ has relieved me of all my worries, time crumbles at his feet and he takes me into self-appointed hours of joy…the grace that I have acquired in his company is inimitable, the emotions that he acquainted me with are exquisite…he doesn’t believe in accelerating the pace of the day…the serenity with which he moves forward is unparalleled.
The soft soliloquies of ‘Eight’ endow me with the elegance of moving forward. He shows me how to slow down, let go and detach discreetly.
My oldest friends joy and woe visit me quite less now because happiness wields all the power in my home. Their dissonance started due to the demanding nature of joy and it often clashed with the calmness of happiness. I also like her, as she possesses the potential to drive away agony, angst and fear.
Now I hang out with “Eight” and “Happiness” and let their nuances color my thoughts. They hold a strange power to guide me, the comfort of their company steers me into the positive corridors of life.
“Five” knows I have forgotten her but she continues to bestow her blessings on me by visiting me whenever I need her, whenever I lack inspiration and those are the times I get up early from my bed even now.
Goodness is forgotten so easily! Indifference and hatred distress us forever!
Forgiveness is so hard whereas goodness doesn’t even come to our mind when we think of one mean act of somebody. We need reminders for invoking amity and altruism.
“Five” continues to shimmer in my heart albeit I dislike her placement on the clock. I know her friendship with me grew warmer only due to that placement!
“They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.” – Andy Warhol
Do you like waking up early in the morning?
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Blogging can be fun when you don’t have any specific goals, when you can smile at yourself with the thought…Oh! Today’s post is still in a limbo.
Blogging opens magnificent avenues of communication and conversation if you can play with words.
Blogging nurtures our thoughts and ideas and can be creative as well as cathartic.
Blogging introduces us to like-minded persons whom we may not have met but there develops a bonding beyond friendship.
This friendship is strengthened with words…words that define us, that introduce us to each other, that lift us out of the mundane into our splendid world of imagination.
I am holding back today’s scheduled post as I am basking in the glory of one such blogger friend.
There was a time when my blog was more like a ghost villa, my own words wandering here and there aimlessly, always smiling at each other.
They were the friendly ghosts, waiting to welcome, to befriend warm-hearted writers who could appreciate the humble efforts of an aspiring artist who loved to paint with words, who carried emotions on her sleeve and could only write poetry.
Little did she know that this genre is no longer read and more so in the blogosphere, which held pro bloggers in high esteem.
She started writing prose too, learnt to elaborate on ideas albeit poetry remained her favorite form of writing.
Slowly the ghost villa got lit up with wonderful blogger friends, poets and authors whose brilliance sparkles on the pages of Emotional Shadows in the form of their reflections that they share.
I value each one of you and would like to express my gratitude for being here. I cherish your friendship and support and look forward to an emotional bonding, which gets stronger with time.
Today’s words of appreciation are inspired by one such author friend Joe Perrone Jr. who even invited me over to his own blog. I am thrilled beyond words and would like you to join me in my moments of delight.
Please click on the following link to walk out of the shadows into the glow of my friend’s brilliance:
Last week I received shocking news, which transported me back into time…those pleasant days of sitting for hours in the company of 
Emotional Shadows 