My wind to My eternal candle

Photo courtesy: wehearit

Day IX 

Dear You! 

No one lights a lamp so as to hide it beneath the door;

No one sacrifices the most important  that person possess;

No one places her dream in the hand of a person who might destroy it. 

No one does that. But ME! 

And I had given it to you ...

~Lavender Meadow~

Someday

"Someday" is a disease that will take your dreams to the grave with you..

-Timothy Ferriss

I can't Fake any longer

Photo Courtesy: weheartit

Day VIII

Dear You! 

but

if you could see what I see

you might see why I need you here with me

and

If you could feel what I feel

We might be lead to feel that love is real

Cause

I can’t fake it no more

You put a bolt on the door

and I

can’t runaway

so I guess the only choice left is to..

stay…

~Lavender Meadow~

Floodgates to memories ...

I know I don't miss you. I miss how i felt
being with you. I miss how you made me feel
when I was with you! 

Day VII

Dear you!

Today is going to be a particularly difficult day for me.  So many memories come flooding in, all at once. Today, I suddenly feel that there is so much more to say and so much more to feel but a vague distant of denseness covers me and I cannot but see the other side. Today I miss you! I woke up in the morning thinking about you, about how your hands wrapped around my waist felt like and in savoring that sweetness I unconsciously opened the flood gates to memories. The anxious every bit of memory of you, and of us came rushing in with a force unbearable to the heart, drenching every ounce of my bitter soul.

The floodgates to memories have opened and the memory wave lashes me from within …

The wind is the same, blows right through me like I am translucently invisible. The bright orange sky from the first ray of light is a lot more charming after yesterday’s storm. The clouds look a lot prettier hanging in the thin air creating a sense of white-awe. If only stars were visible, it was a perfect picturesque image. Everything was in sync with each other. The subtle stillness of wee hours of morning to the rhythmic motion of chirps to the dynamic yet delicate motion of the transition from night to day – everything was in perfect sync with each other enveloping the ironies of nature.

Everything was in sync … but me! You aren't there, how can I be in sync? I am incomplete … 

~Lavender Meadow~

Drinking Hemlock from within me ...

Photo Courtesy: weheartit

Day VI 

Dear You! 

I am trying to sleep but the voices in my head grow stronger with every blink of an eye. The voices in my head are too loud. The flashbacks before my eyes are too vivid.

Suddenly I remember all the things I have done.

Every thought of it pierces my soul with an ice cold dagger. I can’t sleep. I can’t close my eyes. I can’t stand still for the ghost of my memories catch up to me. So I slowly turn to my side and face the wall and inhale the darkness around me slowly inside. I take a long breath, close my eyes, open them again, close it once more and I see his face.

I smile slowly.

It hurts, it hurts to smile. Something else also hurts. The darkness is closing in on me and is tightening its grip around my neck. I gasp for air. There is none. One last breath! One last memory! One last moment and I wish you were here…

I close my eyes and the dull silence fades. 

~Lavender Meadow~

As it rains on me ...

Picture Courtesy: Weheartit
Quote: cascadingveilofdarknes.blogspot.com

Day V
Dear You! 
It is getting dark outside. The unmerciful grayness in the clouds that linger above my head is getting stronger. It would be a matter of time before it rains down on me. Take me with you... 

If every rain drop that lands on my roof top today could spell my love for you, it would still be less. If every ounce of grayness that looms in the cloud could portray my feeling of missing you, it would still be negligible. On a day like today, when heaven cries for me, I feel a sense of being lifeless to have lived the days with out you so far. Every tap of every tiny drop that falls on my roof dictates the stories of you and me. The memories go vivid of me dancing in the rain in your photo shoot, the after-rain hot chocolate and snuggling up to the warmth of your body, that one velvety touch of your embrace and I swear it was enough to write volumes on it. 

Today as it rains, the drops that hit my roof are no longer a rhythm of solace to my otherwise unruly soul but an utterly painful remainder of what I have lost in choosing another way in life's Junction- the one that did not include you. I wish i knew how to tame these feelings and I know if i don't then a day will come when they will finally burst out of me and run ... run like wild horses towards the darkness disappearing into the dense forest. 

~Lavender Meadow~

You are a beatuful dream, forbidden to me ...

Photo courtesy: weheartit
Quote: Lavender Meadow (cascadingveilofdarknes.blogspot.com)

Day IV

Dear you!

I spent the whole of last night twisting and twirling in agony and grieving in your memory- some made by 'Us' and some a mental construct of mine in a hope to provide some solace to my rambling heart and bleeding eyes. Your memory has caused a hole in my heart and now that my feelings so momentous and grave, have abandoned me, I feel vulnerable to a fall from a touch of a feather. I remember you once told me that "People only believe what they WANT to believe." Your words are the only medium from wherein I connect to sanity. You are the only prudent thought in my otherwise unruly life. You complete me. 

 

I am searching for the perfect word to reveal my heart's anguished desire to claim you as mine for times to come and beyond. The feeling of my bursting heart has got my thoughts and I muddled that I have trouble embellishing 'I Love You' to anyone else, let alone a new lover-yet-to-come in my life. And because it is so hard for me to covey my heart-felt desires to you and that there is no other way to do it , I find it ecstatic  that my written words are an empowering way to speak my heart's rambles and my eyes' bleeding tears.

~Lavender Meadow~

Learning to Exist without you ...

Photo courtesy: weheartit(dot)com
You were my light when I was too blind to see the darkness ....

Day III
Dear You!
This particular post is from the last 'so-called' breakup we had during the day following my birthday. It still resonates a lot now, especially now, that i know we can't be together for a force greater than us is pulling our world apart and we are but mere collateral damage in the fight.
 

The meanings are meaningless. The truth hides behind the lies. The life leads itself on a lie. Life flies away in a blink of an eye. It's amazing how a blink of an eye can get us blind! There is this subtle and dull but an everlasting feeling of hollowness inside of me. Despite being surrounded by a thousand beautiful souls everyday, my heart still has the autonomy to feel lonely. There are times when i feel that what I did was a wrong step to take. At other times I wish I did not have to do what I had to do. I deeply wish at times, that there were ways to undo the done and to do the undone. I wish I could as easily move on as you think I do by forcing myself to believe on 'let bygone be gone'. But life is not that easy. Life is not easy at all. It is not all bed of blossoms or differentiated as Black or White. It is rather in the hues produced from the mixture of Black and White. It's all Grey, different shades of Grey. Life is a uphill battle between You and the rocks you encounter while stalling towards your destiny.

For now, i wish i was Clementine and I wish my life was 'Eternal Sunshine of Spotless Mind'. I wish i could delete what i had. I wish in the process of deleting what i had, i could delete my existence from you, from this world and from myself.

~Lavender Meadow~

If only my life had a direction ...

Photo courtesy: Kellie Elmore blog.
Click here for more.

Sometimes i get this insane craving to cut loose from who i am now and let my spirit fly high. For the moment all that my wild heart is rambling and craving wants to sit underneath the shower, hold my knees and cry until my eyes bleed out! I want to get drunk and escape to the world that i know only exists sometimes in the figment of my imagination. I want to break free. At home i feel under scrutiny all the time. Well, i know this i terrible but if i was not sent to hostel, i might have been a more homely and a more co-operative child. But, they chose to send me always and sometimes with so much rage building in me, i end up screaming thundering the whole house with the agony i feel inside of me! Its not that i am unhappy they chose to send me to Hostel, i am glad they did. Because to an extent i know i survived the most difficult phase of my life (high school) trying to adjust and make friends. I have a few of them with whom i still talk and ramble random stuffs of life. Sometimes we used to meet up under this one tree at Delhi School of Economics and smoke a joint ... stare vacantly at the endless grey building in front of us before we realized it was nightfall and time to go to bed! I would not have had that experience had i stayed home!

But now that i have come home after a decade long stay-away, home does not feel like home! it feels different, it feels random and unjust. It feels concrete and cold and sometimes Oh! so very very cold. Things don't go my way so i have stopped expecting them to too. I am getting used to the fact that because things do not go my way i have become used to the rampant threat that life brings now and then racing my heart more than ever! Things around me look random like they all are out of place, at one time and at the other everything seems normal and perfect and beautiful and it feels like it is just me who's not in shape to work out things around herself, who is that only one out of sync with the nature.

Your memories continue to haunt me

Photo courtesy: Kellie Elmore Blog

Day II 

Dear You!
As usual with my head down and hands in my pocket I walk, not knowing where I am going or where my destiny is. 

I again had a fight with myself. I am a twenty something girl, Lavender. And i am in love ... an unattainably real love!

I let him talk me into this once more. Why do i do it time and again?  Why? 

He promised me it would be worth my time and my fear. But that's what all of them say, don't they? 

Reality good or bad has its own set of limitations but imagination has none. Imagination is but a thought processed by randomness of life. They have no boundaries and limitation unlike reality. I wish you were a figment of my imagination rather than an intrinsic part of my sad-faced reality because I'd like to keep you forever in me.

Imaginations encompasses feeling of randomness and when pushed a little, they run like wild horses.

~Lavender Meadow~

A moment of infinity - #FWF

Quote from: Perks of being a wallflower

Life is but bundle of memories - some beautiful and some less beautiful. Memories are never sorrowful or less joyous phenomena. However, they can be pleasuring or dis-pleasuring depending on the present context of  remembrance. 

This is one such reminiscence of one such memory ... 

We stood facing the same direction - overlooking a majestic view of blue hills. I wanted the moment to last - forever. He slowly moved his hands caught hold of mine. I froze, I wanted him to engulf me completely in his warmth. He brushed his thumbs gently against mine. It was a tender gesture. A glimpse of hope, i reckoned. However his touch felt like a loose invisible thread binding his soul to mine uncertain of when it might break leaving us stranded of each others company. He then took both my hands and cupped them into his, making me turn to face him. Probably this meant nothing to him but for me it was enough to write volumes on his touch. I slowly looked up and gazed right into his eyes which were already gazing at mine and he then beamed a smile.
It was his touch ... just A touch!

And in that moment i swear, we were infinite.

My love for you ...

Day I 

Dear you! 

Life is but a bundle of choices for me. It is a journey inward. It is a voyage towards the end of light via the darkest tunnel possible. Life is a never ending endeavor filled with a slight sense of happiness but a lot of remorse and  sorrow. Life is like a flower blooming in the garden - fresh and beautiful until the moment a bee sucks all the nectar away leaving nothing but a hollow sense of self-loss. Would it not be beautiful to live in a self created figment of imaginary world, a world far reach from the stringent reality? 

If only my love was a light year i would show you the universe inside of me I made especially for you. A universe created from figment of my imagination where you and i live till the ends of time. A universe where all parallel universes co-exists with you and me only! 

If only our imagination had the power to build what we dream. If only my imagination had the power to envelop mine and your universe collectively and frame a self-defining perfect 'us' in it. 

If only ... 

~Lavender Meadow~

A handful Nepali Cultures: impracticality at use

Every society has their share of traditions and practices. If individualism defines the mainstream American life style, rich food constitutes a major part of Indian culture. In the same manner Nepalese have their own share of cultural practise and traditions ranging from the celebration of mainstream Nepali festival Dashain to illogical practise of menstrual untouchability. 

photo courtesy: Demotix.com 
A Nepali Women who when menstruates is sent to this small mud hut to live for four days after which she
needs to purify herself. Then only she can enter the household. Menstruation is seen more in term of
Untouchability than a natural physical cycle in the remote areas of Nepal. 

Life in home is hard especially when you are not used to it- used to anything that constitutes a home (as according to societal notion) from clean rooms and no hanging socks to cleaning and cooking and spending time with parents. Certain things which i used to take as privileged  freedom-taken-for-granted is all coming back to me kicking me hard in the gut making life harder than it could ever be. Everything sucks - from waking up in the morning to sleeping in the night (which seldom happens). 

My mom comes in the morning with bland announcement that i have to clean myself up today. I don't get it or putting it in a little more mild manner, i must have forgotten the "Traditions" Nepali society holds - not trying to be a rebel or anything but when you don't follow a ritual for so long, it becomes "bygone begone" sorts. I look at her- simple, blank look. She mentions with a little anger to her tone that it is the fourth day of my menstrual cycle and that i have to clean myself up, change my bed sheets and the night dress i wore. And i plainly ask "What about other clothes i wore the whole four days while going to office? or while sleeping? should i not laundry them?" She must have thought i was teasing her sentiments and she cried off with how insensible i am despite the fact i have an extremely supporting family and how i will regret if i get married to a more stringent 'Bahun' Kathmandu family. 

the question poised by me was not a tease, it was an honest question. If the clothes i wear on the fourth day needs washing just because it is the fourth day of my periods, what about the other three days? Was i not menstruating then? 

logically and historically speaking i think the whole idea of washing clothes on the fourth day comes from the fact that a woman during her menstruation bleeds for four days (least) and then some completely stop while some don't. We did not have sanitary napkins and "Why should boys have all the fun?" related things to make woman's lives easier then. Women then were confined to a cow shed or a room (not a concrete room) for four days because bleeding and staining the whole house would have increased the amount of work a women naturally is expected to do. This is the logic behind sending a woman to a shed (because then, people hardly had a concrete house, having two would have been nearly impossible). 

Slowly as times passed by, the practical and sensible side of a custom disappeared leaving the impractical and senseless side for people to COMPREHEND as they wished. This led to increase of a dehumanizing attitude of anyway patriarchal society resulting in the lower status of women than men burdening her with tag of being 'impure'. What adds on to the in-humanness of these men towards women is when learned men comment on women's well being with statements like "I don't believe a person who can bleed for five days straight and still be alive." Hawking once mentioned, "I deciphered what i had to but could never apply that to a women. They are a species on their own." Statements like this is if spelled by learned men, what can we expect of uneducated men in the remote areas of Nepali villages who are just following what their father did. Who is to blame? 

Some traditions are worth a keep. Some aren't. One needs to focus and analyze how much of a tradition do we actually have in a tradition and how much has been sensitized in order to make people feel their cohesive power in a society.