A date with myself.

I am having a cup of coffee. In a busy mall. Just by myself. There are a thousand things to do. A thousand deadlines to meet. Yet,  I find myself within this bubble of suspended time,  with a cup of coffee.
Gregarious and socially overactive by nature,  I am rarely alone. I cannot recall many instances where I have been just by myself.
Mind you, I am just alone today, not lonely. Thoughts and feelings encompass me as I sit with my coffee. I wonder if many people would simply sit idle like I am right now and enjoy the company of their thoughts. And more importantly,  will society allow and accept it ?
The three men sitting by my side are casting furtive glances. Maybe wondering why a lady is sitting alone in a café. ..
The lady walking by holds her kid and husband closer as if to assert that she is more secure in her love...
Young girls giggle by as they whisper secretively into each others ears...
Are they as aware of me as I am of them ? Maybe,  maybe not. Yet I can feel the scornful pity as they find me alone with my cup of coffee.
But, I  want to shout out, let them know that I am completely happy and thoroughly at peace as I sit alone.  I am not alone...I am with Myself.

My Dawn

Give me a few moments at dawn
To soak in the powder pale skies
To feel the soft winds torn
From the wings of the bird which flies
To stand with my elbows at rest
On the dusty black balcony grill
To have the power to resist
The desire to grab a few winks still
To feel one with the soft flutter
Of the leaves of the newborn tree
To be able to hear the mutter
Of the pigeon setting its wings free
To count the windows in the tall towers
Which have  yellow light streaming out
To feel the softness of the dew showers
On the petals of colours I can't make out
Give me a few minutes at dawn
To sip a tepid cup of tea
Away from the work ridden world forlorn
Oh ! Please make me feel free.

The lollipop kid

At the grocery,  I waited, as the line at the cashier crawled. The evening had brought in a collage of people together. I feast on such sights, my hyperactive mind preying on people and their interactions, trying to glean tidbids from their lives. Momentarily,  I am a part of so many stories. I become one with the mom who chides her little girl, the newly weds who walk with entwined fingers.
The sly old woman who breaks the queue, using her old age to her advantage, irks me but interests me nevertheless.
My attention is drawn to a toddler playing with the string of lollipos hanging near the chips stand. Suddenly without any warning his breaks out into an incomprehensible, high pitched baby babble. Fat tears roll on to pink cheeks defying gravity and settling there without falling.
The trouble is easy enough to assume, he wants the lollipops.
Caught unaware is the toddler's little sister who must have been left in charge as the parents shopped. She looks discomfited and apologetic at the same time. Her eyes search the throbbing aisles of the shop in desperation,  yet she hushes her little brother and tries to calm him down. Her face looks helpless and guilty all at once. My heart goesout to her.
It led me to question, if girls are genetically programmed to be carers. The little girl was no more than 5, yet not once did she lose patience, not once did she go running to look for her parents. She accepted the tantrum of her brother. Tried to make the best of the situation by soothing him. Felt guilty for no fault of hers. Apologised to all the people around by  looking around and smiling weakly. Responsible and caring, she displayed a maturity level much beyond her age.
What amazed me more, was that she neither complained nor asked for a lollipop herself when her hassled parents arrived.
If I had a crown , I would have put it on her curly head there and then.  She was 'My everyday queen '.

The rediscovery trip

Through the years gone by,
My mother and I,
Have grown apart as we aged
Our lives and love, a bit damaged
She was lonely, I busy always
We wouldn't speak on many days
And on the days we did,
Empty words covered, what the eyes hid.
We connected now and then,
But drifted apart more often.
Then one bright summer day
We decided to go on a holiday
Bags packed I headed out
Not knowing that I was about
To embark on a recovery,
A relationship rediscovery.
I spoke to her and held her hand
Shared meals and walked on the sand
I was up early and so was she
We bonded over a cup of tea.
After ages I felt secure
I hugged her some and wanted more.

Sunset

I love watching sunsets. As I open my doors each evening to savour a few minutes of the setting sun, i enjoy watching the world pass by.

It is the time when many are out for their evening strolls. Young moms gang up and chatter away wheeling the prams, a little older moms jog by energetically, A few men run or walk alone and a few walk with their mobiles glued to their ears.
Young kids criss cross on bikes shouting at each other.

But what makes my heart turn, is the older couples who walk slowly, side by side and always in sync with each other. No cell phones or i pods to distract them, they revel in each others company. They may speak a few words or may just share silences but what i find incredibly romantic is the wrinkled hand on the wrinkled elbow gently guiding when a car or bike comes by.
Walking into the sunset..........

The Artist

I came rushing back from the market to find the AC service fellow waiting for me at my doorstep. 
Scruffy shoes, dirty shirt and dusty faced, he followed me inside to clean up the ACs. He went about cleaning and dusting away and became more and more dirty in the process.
Job done, he sat down to write out the bill and job card.
I could not believe my eyes as I saw his writing. Each letter was a sculpture carved in ink, each word a masterpiece worth framing. The letter formation was worthy of Victorian era scribes. 
On appreciation, he shrugged and said he had copied the style of writing from a maths teacher that he had.
He packed his stuff and left. An unknown artist of an unappreciated art.....

The Mommy Club

Driving to school daily with my kids makes my mornings the typical fast paced city mornings, with the cliche-ed running out with a toast in my hand kind of scenario. I love my job but, I hate the 7 am out of the house routine.
For the past two days I am stuck at home because of the lil one running a temperature. As a result I got the opportunity to drop my elder one to the bus stop in the mornings.

Ah! I love the school bus stop. Younger kids stealing every possible minute to play. The elder ones, with noses glued to their books,,cramming in whatever they can in the last few minutes. Moms rushing to deliver forgotten tiffin boxes and water bottles. Dads discussing either cars or sports ( limited range of topics). And the occasional grandparent fixing up satsang meetings.

The Mom's Club which functions at the school bus stop is the one stop solution for all life's problems, from which cough syrup to use, to how to find the perfect maid. It is also a great discussion forum for all moms' physical, emotional, work related, home related, beauty, shopping, TV serials, daily menu, kids study issues.

How I wish I could join this club and take a walk around the campus after sending off the kids. But then, grass is always greener on the other side of the fence right ?