Monday, October 8, 2007
Careless Times...
Hush, be careful, we live in careless times. Careless times they are, free of any care for oneself or another.
My daughter asks me, "Maw, do you think i'm in love?" I respond, "and what makes you think so?", a smile playing dangerously around my lips; "Well, i feel happy in his company." "Ah, happy is it? And carefree too? Then it's got to be love."
"Well," says she, " happy but not carefree. You mean without-a-care, kind of feeling, right? No, that i don't. I feel burdened with trying to keep on feeling happy. How cool is that? But i still feel happy when i feel happy, you know." That was sweet coming from where it did. What should i tell her? No, honey, this ain't love, it's the beginning of pain, a life full of it, buckets of it, oodles of it BECAUSE of this happiness that you think is 'falling in love'. She is wise though, already wise enough to perceive the associations of the word 'burden', 'not cool', etc. etc. So then, careless times are better than careful times methinks.
I'm not about to let the cat out of the bag yet - not to her, not yet at least till she lets it out herself. I have a strong hunch that she'll know that well before i did. : )
Being careful is being caring. I like caring. I like love. I love love. But what is it? Having expectations, now is that being caring or not? Can one live a life 'expectation-free'? Can't remember the last time i was as generous as that. Nor do i know anyone around me who would just let me be- sans attente. Impossible, say i. I reciprocate heartily and in full measure. Let's match our expectations, shall we, and very carefully at that!
My careless times were over when i fell in love too. I became overcautious - of the way i dressed, the way i spoke, the way i looked at him, my gait, my eye makeup, my manner in general. Then i got used to the feeling and re-entered careless times. I became sloppy and judgemental. I became me. So in that sense, careless times equals The Real Me. Careful/caring times (and they aren't even synoyms!) equals masked me. Boy, this is funny, almost hilarious. Which means essentially, unmasked, i don't care. But i do, i do, i do. So there's a mix and match somewhere- a blend of faces within faces, a masking, unmasking and remasking. The heat is on.
I'm ok with the general drift of this, are you?
Careless times - allow you the freedom to breathe freely albeit occasionally.
Careful times - be thrifty, spend emotions but only as much as necessary, as you define it
Careless times = carefree times- not a care, happy-go-lucky, smiling, cheery and not anxious, ever.
Careful times - worry, worry, needless worry. Anxious about getting it right, everytime. Be good at any cost but predefine goodness.
Careless times - love yourself as is, but first get to know your unmasked self- slow and steady but take that first step (with help if deem fit and if find 'right' person to aid the process)
Careful careful - watch over every inner and outer movement- give 'IT' to yourself in case of a slump in your flawless character. How cool is that? ; )
All right, let's not overdo it. Let's just balance it out shall we. Inshallah! what's life all about then?
I'll ask my daughter, she seems to have almost got it right first time. Hallelujah!
My daughter asks me, "Maw, do you think i'm in love?" I respond, "and what makes you think so?", a smile playing dangerously around my lips; "Well, i feel happy in his company." "Ah, happy is it? And carefree too? Then it's got to be love."
"Well," says she, " happy but not carefree. You mean without-a-care, kind of feeling, right? No, that i don't. I feel burdened with trying to keep on feeling happy. How cool is that? But i still feel happy when i feel happy, you know." That was sweet coming from where it did. What should i tell her? No, honey, this ain't love, it's the beginning of pain, a life full of it, buckets of it, oodles of it BECAUSE of this happiness that you think is 'falling in love'. She is wise though, already wise enough to perceive the associations of the word 'burden', 'not cool', etc. etc. So then, careless times are better than careful times methinks.
I'm not about to let the cat out of the bag yet - not to her, not yet at least till she lets it out herself. I have a strong hunch that she'll know that well before i did. : )
Being careful is being caring. I like caring. I like love. I love love. But what is it? Having expectations, now is that being caring or not? Can one live a life 'expectation-free'? Can't remember the last time i was as generous as that. Nor do i know anyone around me who would just let me be- sans attente. Impossible, say i. I reciprocate heartily and in full measure. Let's match our expectations, shall we, and very carefully at that!
My careless times were over when i fell in love too. I became overcautious - of the way i dressed, the way i spoke, the way i looked at him, my gait, my eye makeup, my manner in general. Then i got used to the feeling and re-entered careless times. I became sloppy and judgemental. I became me. So in that sense, careless times equals The Real Me. Careful/caring times (and they aren't even synoyms!) equals masked me. Boy, this is funny, almost hilarious. Which means essentially, unmasked, i don't care. But i do, i do, i do. So there's a mix and match somewhere- a blend of faces within faces, a masking, unmasking and remasking. The heat is on.
I'm ok with the general drift of this, are you?
Careless times - allow you the freedom to breathe freely albeit occasionally.
Careful times - be thrifty, spend emotions but only as much as necessary, as you define it
Careless times = carefree times- not a care, happy-go-lucky, smiling, cheery and not anxious, ever.
Careful times - worry, worry, needless worry. Anxious about getting it right, everytime. Be good at any cost but predefine goodness.
Careless times - love yourself as is, but first get to know your unmasked self- slow and steady but take that first step (with help if deem fit and if find 'right' person to aid the process)
Careful careful - watch over every inner and outer movement- give 'IT' to yourself in case of a slump in your flawless character. How cool is that? ; )
All right, let's not overdo it. Let's just balance it out shall we. Inshallah! what's life all about then?
I'll ask my daughter, she seems to have almost got it right first time. Hallelujah!
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Safari One
R took me on a wild safari the other day...we were very close to death. It was breath close and we imagined brushing by a bushbaby, an elephant calf and a cub. That may have actually happened, but in a Safari, such as we found ourselves cruising in and out of, my imagination got the better of me. Wild, wild, wilder, cried my heart while my mind searched for meaning within this meaningless ride. As the mindblowing matter got more out of hand, my index finger pressed my pulse to see if i was still alive. It felt like a living pulse. My ears were whistling with the wind, and as the whistling got louder and my ears flapped and clapped alternating between sounds and silence, i wished i were back home in my comfort zone. Safaris should be undertaken only when one is ready. I may have not protested at the time it was proposed, but i guess my whistle got me into trouble. So here we were on a Whister's Safari, be it the wind whistling, the Catmewl, R's mouth or mine- the whistles were unmistakable and so was the Safari, a mistake. I needed to run.
To be contd...
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
New Arrivals
The New Arrivals awaited our arrival in the Airport lounge. They were too shy to look directly at the people holding up placards, but somehow, one new Arrival was able to observe that their name was not among those being greeted rather imporantly. Another new arrival looked up every now and then, and then looked away disappointed. The third new Arrival whined his disapproval of the delay in pickup. Flights were landing and departing and people of different colours were scaring the Arrivals by their fierce passion of the voyage gone or about to begin. The world was noisy today.
All too suddenly there was a loud shout, followed by screeches, which were followed by louder noises! Vroooom, badaainnn, daamm! It sounded something like that and the Lady New Arrival was shaken to tears. Her whole body trembled with the impact of her fear. New Arrival bedecked in American jeans, held her tight and comforted her with soothing sounds as her body was now wracked with nervous jitters. What was it? asked the third new Arrival. She thought it was a tyre burst outside of the airport. A terrorist attack, the fourth finally suggested, breaking her silence. The news spread like wildfire, there had been an attack on some new arrivals from Bosnia, thought to be illegal entrants into the flight which brought them here and there was a search party for those who could or should've been dead. Loud whispers haunted the air and pierced any hope of noiselessness, in a hush that follows an alarm. Attentively, the four new Arrivals watched the change on people's faces- from happy and noisy, from cheery to glum, anxious, fearful, alarmed, hurried and foreboding. The situation earlier to the Now situation- within a matter of seconds had transformed so totally, one wouldn't have believed that this was within the same timespace and spacetime. A trigger so bolting that it turned a happy bunch into a mad bunch of folks joined together in complete harmony of fear and the unknown. It's possible, and it was happening in a continuous flow- from one to another and so on and so forth.
We arrived bemused. We departed with the New Arrivals in haste, having been granted special favours from the Government. These New Arrivals were the special Task Force that their Government had had sent over. Most were dead, those unfortunate to have met with accidental deaths or such like. These New Arrivals were fortunate that we were late arrivals ourselves, much later than we had anticipated but early enough to allow them to breathe free air......at a price but live they did.
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