Thoughtsmith

… feelings & thoughts, scripted in fonts …


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330. Feelings.. (VIII)

Today, bumped on some of my most precious belongings from this life, my old diaries.

After I got married, I left those back at my parents place. But that was for a while. In one of their visits, my parents brought them to me, knowing well what those old diaries meant to me.

It started quite late, contrary to when my mother wanted it to start. Finding me to be a very quiet and introvert child from the very beginning, she understood that I needed to vent my words and feelings out somewhere. And what can be better than a diary. So she tried hard, to ingrain the habit in me from quite an early age. Whereas, to me, it was more like studying, as it involved a pencil and a paper again..!! I preferred to be spending quiet time with nature, gazing at the blue sky, the flying birds, the little pot plants, watering them and their greenery, the dancing flowers, the blooming buds etc.,.

A time came, getting irritated to my mother’s continuous nagging, I gave in to her wishes. Was in my early teens, I started it with a diary entry. Somewhere I went, as a Sunday outing, on a picnic, with family. Still feel like laughing while going through those lines now. Those lines are filled with descriptive explanations,.. how we all got up early in the morning, got ready, what we ate, how we dressed etc.,. Putting time and date on one side, followed by the description of my day, well spent. How I spent my days, in school, in my neighbourhood. About my favourite teachers, what and how they taught, whom I liked, whom I hated and why..?? About my friends in our colony, who fought with me, whom I fought with, I agreed with whom, who agreed with me, whom I helped, who helped me and how I felt.. everything..!! Gradually and unknowingly, it grew up in me as a habit. I started to fall in love with it. Amidst my whole day’s routine, I had to sit with it once, however late it be. I started to hide our love now, which once was introduced by my mother only..!! You know World, what the best part was., I used to treasure my diary like the most precious gem in my life. I’d do every possible things to hide it from my world then, my parents, my sister..!!

Today, I’m really thankful to my Maa, under her farsightedness, who continuously kept on poking me to write, in order to create thoughts, of my own, on my own, to develop my creative writing skills. Though I started, a bit unwillingly, but it helped me out like nothing. My love for reading developed as well. Writing, anything it may, also developed side by side. As soon as I held my pen, I started scribbling whatever came in my mind. I still remember, in childhood, I used to love only one period in school, the one which was scheduled for Hand Writing. The cursive way attracted me too much. The designing way of writing simple letters, the artistic style in which our pencil was to be moved in order to create a beautiful writing style of our own. I remember, I used to watch other classmates, how they wrote the letters, straight or slanted, whether slightly inclined towards left or towards right, which looked good, which one I felt interested to follow..!!

Still remember.. the day, my father took me out a diary, though an old one, but it looked like a new one, and I was so so excited. Till today I remember, I wasn’t ready to leave it for a second, away from my eyes. The grin on my face wasn’t ready to leave me at all and now I recollect and enjoy such innocence in me.

Anyways.. I crossed my teenage with my Love beside me, in a quite happening way. Entered college…

Now you can well imagine, what, how and where my writings headed towards, as I headed towards college. The special feel, from those first stares, the excitements in getting one glimpse a day. ( As if they were more than enough to live life forever in that trance.) Those out – of – the – world feeling from that one glimpse. Ahha.. heavenly..!! All the crushes, the blushes, feelings, hallucinations, the dreams, the admirations, the infatuations. Those proposals, those unread love letters passed through friends, the ways how to handle them each. With or without, the expected or unexpected emotions attached to them, as per the situations demanded., my diary read each and every word, everytime, so patiently. Each and every ‘Firsts’ of mine, my diary got to know.

Then came marriage. With it, came wifehood, motherhood, womanhood and so on… Many more ‘Firsts’ got added in my diary pages. The diaries also grew in number by then as well.

Life rolled on, in turns. It started to seem very different, but, the love being in me, stayed by me, always, for all.. it seemed smooth, a sail.. since stayed my diaries, always beside me.

.. Today, I claim to love my Maa, for everything else apart, more so for this reason, that she nagged, she made me bound to start teaching my pen speak for me.. the best gift my Maa gifted to me, apart from my Life, is something which stayed here beside me, to cling on to, when none around to listen to my silent words.

She wanted me, her silent doll, learn to put into words, my silent thoughts, by growing the habit of writing and pouring them out.. somewhere, somehow.. to keep on holding herself boldly, to carry on with this vast life, strongly.

She knew.., her silent doll.. needs to learn to clear out her choked throat, by herself.,

.. needs to learn to wipe her tears, by herself.,

.. needs to learn to understand others ‘Feelings’ and convey her own to them too..

.. she has to grow up and her pen and papers only can help her do that, when she’s not there to do it for her doll.. anymore..!!

Thank you Maa, for introducing me with my all-time Love, my papers. My only wish left now, when I die, I want to be cremated with all my papers, altogether, in my pyre..!! πŸ˜‡πŸ’•

………………………….βœπŸΌπŸ’•

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303. Feelings.. (VII)

Feelings.. feelings.. feelings.. Huh..!! Me and my Feelings..!!

This is again one such moment, when I’m enjoying my best time, feeling blessed to be with my other pieces, my fragments, my Feelings. We all are so inseparable. They are always my constant companions. They are the only ones, who make me feel alive.

They love to talk to me, and so do I. We talk about so many things, rather every single thing under the sky. They never judge me, rather always take my side, may be sometimes too much biased with me and my ways. I love my Feelings. They are very tender, they are way too kind, but again they are way too scared of today’s unpredictable world. They have been befooled a lot of times, not only before, but even now. They have got lessons for being kind, still, they won’t stop, since, they enjoy being kind. This is where I beg to differ with them. It makes them feel good. They feel for everybody around them. They feel for the people who think negatively for them too, who try to harm them, want to misguide them, so that they are in trouble. But my Feelings, they are so adamant. They justify themselves saying that they feel a strange happiness, a strange satisfaction in being kind. They witness all the ill activities going around them, still they keep a benefit of doubt for those people. They love to think otherwise, to think differently, and try to give a non-judgmental look towards all. They love to lend their thought shelter for them and look after the reasons behind such activities. Whereas, mostly, just the opposite occurs. People take advantage of those Feelings and often get a go, with a clean chit. At such times, my Feelings throw cute little satiric smiles and move on with a dignity of their own. As if, it’s their loss who misused them. They’ll stay guilty, they won’t be able to face themselves. Whereas my Feelings feel good that they stay compassionate, try to help all around them.

Every single act of ours, the silent mind within, witnesses them, keeps track of those and remembers each and every action it goes through, forever. Their impressions on all good or bad activities, stay there forever, thus forming guilts or satisfaction, as per the deeds. So, taking advantage or misusing the Feelings, pays them heavily from within, for sure. This is how my Feelings come up to console me with. So that I do keep on believing in kindness again., So that my faith on being compassionate, continues.

To me, showing kindness is loving, respecting is loving, keeping patience is loving, believing is loving, and like these, any form of understanding is loving.

My feelings are my blessings as they serve me immense peace and happiness.

I may be an emotional fool, but at the end of the day, I enjoy a sound sleep, and that’s due to my inner happiness, my inner satisfaction, for being successful in keeping the real Me intact.. after years of so many changes in life and its ways.

Yes Life, you and your ways changed, but, Me and My Feelings didn’t.

I am what my Feelings are, how they have shaped me with Time.,

I Feel, therefore I Am..

πŸ˜˜πŸ’•πŸ˜‡

………………………………..πŸ’•


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244. Feelings.. (VI)

27th September, 1984

She often thinks., What is she..?? Why is she..?? How is she..??

She happens to be too soft and sober, too simple. She is always a silent observer, owner of an eye for intricate details. She loves her own room, her window, to watch people pass by from that window, beside her bed. She flew with her wings of imagination, along with the tiny birds, the frequent visitors of her room. They sometimes entered her room, with cautious steps, their chirps exchanged their thoughts, which she couldn’t understand. But she enjoyed their company a lot. She lost herself often, in the vast blue sky with them. She could feel what the birds felt while flying high up in the air, cherishing their careless freedom.

She’s tender like those birds. She hated to hurt, responding to her own gulps. She loved to gulp her tears rather than putting others to tears.

Her little heart often felt trapped, by taking birth in this world of schools, studies, home assignments. The world and its rules and norms. She felt, the birds were so happy, they don’t have clocks in their nest. Tears rolled down often. Why is she born a human, why she has to act her age always, why she has to be careful and serious, in order to be acknowledged.. why can’t she live like a bird, breathe like a bird, why can’t she be a bird..??

She promises…!!

She promises herself, to be born a bird in her next birth..!! Mom says, the human birth is the most blessed birth on earth, the best gift from the Lord. Is it so..??

She wonders…!!

Never ever seen anybody, apart from humans, say, a bird or an animal sad..?!! But human beings are mostly so so unhappy all around. More than enjoying life, they run after dreaming about the things they want to enjoy in life. They fight, they struggle to fulfill their dreams, their much so desired lives. And finally, one fine morning, they meet themselves on their final journey, stunned, puzzled.. that they are heading towards their end.. without getting the time to fulfill their dreams.

She ponders…!!

What’s the point in being so calculative, so complicated, so egoistic, so proud and running after reaching that no man’s land, where one is never satisfied..??

She asks…!!

Asks her Mom. Mom says, not to waste her time, thinking the unthinkables. Time is like a flowing river, the part of water which once lost, is lost forever.

She realises…!!

So true. Time is what..?? .. just a few moments, seconds, minutes, hours, divided and designed equally in a clock, again by the humans. Just a few ticktocks, she looks at the wall clock above her study table. It’s ticking. She suddenly starts hating time. She wants to stop it. But merely stopping the clock won’t stop the Time. Let all the clocks of this world, stop for one whole day, for once..!! She wants to see what happens..!! What people do, how people behave..!! Thousands and thousands of people, their varied thoughts, their different looks, their innumerous ways of living life, all so so different from each other.

So many births and deaths, go along, side by side, on one single day, all over the world..!!

She smirks…!!

Such thoughts in her make her feel unique from all her other friends and siblings. She loves herself for this, whereas her friends laugh at her for this. She feels like an alien in this world, where no one gets her words. She feels her soul is behind the bars, her thoughts locked inside her brain.

She sighs……!!!

Life all around nature is so free. Humans aren’t. They are caged within their own thoughts. They can’t come out of their own shells of negative thoughts. She starts counting the stars, adores the crescent moon, she, lets free, her mind open, like the free birds, flying much much up, up above this world.

She knows…!!

This world is lacking the eyes to appreciate nature’s handlooms. What artistically designed textiles elaborate the horizon..!! How creatively painted canvases are hung all over this nature’s museum..!!

She feels…!! Every breath of life in her.

She lives…!! Every bit of her feelings, every moment.

She loves…!! She loves to be born free like her birdies.

Flying free with her buddies, the birdies, to stay lost with her cute, little, wordless, yet mindful birdies.. in her imaginations, away from this mad mad world.


( — This world, from the eyes of a twelve years old.. πŸ’πŸ’•πŸ˜‡ )

……………………………………..βœπŸΌπŸ’•


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134. Feelings.. (V)

13th August, 2018

It was a saturday evening. Both, me and my best half were feeling so much bored, that suddenly he planned and booked movie tickets, online, for the next day.

Sunday evening. Entered the theatre. Took our seats and felt much at peace. A feel good factor hovered on me, for this much needed change, after quite a long time. Bothered not much about the movie, but bringing a change in our monotonous life schedules.

The lights dimmed and it all went dark. But the naughty light inside my head was lit enough to show where he rested his right hand. My left hand aggressed towards his hand just to hold it.. out of gratitude and love. He, my most decent half, got a shock of 440 volts, as it seemed from his way of removing his hand. Whispered, in utter shock, “What are you doing..?? It’s a public place..??!!!! O My my.. I was like.., God only knows what… may be or may not… !!!! I again fell in love with this man. I whispered, “Nothing baby, I thought you might be feeling scared as there is total darkness, so thought of holding your hand out of compassion.. ( followed by giggles..) You came for a movie to spend time, and I came to spend time with you. Simple..??!!!” By the time, he normalised himself a bit and said, “Behave yourself wifie, what’ll people think of us..??” Now, you tell me World, what should I have answered. I felt like laughing my heart out on that cute comment of my old man, whose ways were growing cuter day by day., the more he was growing old. But calmed myself anyhow, thinking what to reply. I said coolly., “Correct, they’ll call your wife at home and complain that you are spending time with some other’s wife in this theatre. Come, let’s run away from here.. before your wife arrives.” He looked at me in total disbelief, and said in a much deeper voice, ” Unbelievable… Stop talking rubbish, and get ready for the National Anthem. It’s about to start.”

Meanwhile, an elderly couple came and took their seats just beside this Tom & Jerry couple. Me, the Jerry, had to make my outer ‘self’ behave like a bit grown up now. I heard Tom smile a sigh of relief.

Minutes later started the National Anthem, all the viewers stood up, we too. But the elderly couple didn’t. The lady had troubled knees. Still she was trying to stand up on her own. The gentleman objected, but she kept on trying. My hands went towards her hands now. But she also refused to hold my hand. (Though for a different reason.)

She, gave a thankful smile and finally, stood up on her own. Her husband kept seated. She asked him twice to stand up. He overheard. Now she also ignored. The national anthem started., the Jerry in me disappeared., I came back to my sensitive self. Every time, whenever I’m before the national flag, with the national anthem being played in the background, I go teary, with goosebumps. But this time, the gesture of this elderly lady, the strength in her, the respect, the feelings for the anthem she showed, despite her struggles to get up from her seat, moved me. This little gesture of hers, touched me… What moved me the most was, she could have easily ignored it when her husband told her to. It was dark all around, and no one would have noticed, or none to remark on them, if they kept sitting back in their chairs. But no, she listened to herself, chose to ignore her immobility, not her inner voice.

Hats off lady..!! You don’t know, how much you moved me, you touched my soul, you inspired me. You don’t have the slightest idea that your silent ways were captured by my thoughts.. and now, you are in my words. I needed to share your cute, little gesture through this cute, little window of my heart here.. with this World of ours. My salutes..!!!

Can this also be counted as love for one’s own country..?? I feel, Yes.!! It may seem very small to you all.. “what’s the big deal.. it is nothing to get so much moved..” Even I thought, why this touched me so much..?? That’s because, it was the best possible thing she could do, as her gratitude, her feelings towards the country.. at this stage of her life. That is what my ‘feel’osophy deals with. To feel too much, from the too little captures of my mind.

I didn’t know that Tom was watching this suddenly-so-silent Jerry. He held Jerry’s hand tightly, while the movie continued…..

πŸ’ž

Thanks World, for always sparing your time to go through my too much simple words on too much of my feelings.

Love you all.. loads..

………………………………βœπŸΌπŸ˜‡πŸ’•



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113. Feelings.. (IV)

19th July, 2018

It was 9 pm.. The cab slowly went off, gradually increasing its speed. Uncle and Auntie, only the two of them headed for their son’s place for two months.. with quite a lot of heavy luggages.

I went down to see them off, touched their feet, took their blessings before they left, came back upstairs with an unusually heavy heart.

I can’t share such feelings to anyone, exactly how I was feeling, specially, when they are just our neighbours, knowing each other, only for a few years. So felt like sharing it here to offload my choked tears through my words.

People, you may laugh at this gesture of mine. But, I have no problem with your laughter. I can’t help myself stop being emotional. I laugh a lot, I cry a lot (..once upon a time, I used to.. but not now.. I’ve found words for my tears now..) and that’s because.., may be., not may be, I’m sure, I feel a lot.

Who are they to me..?? Why am I feeling the way I feel for my parents, when they leave after their visit from our place.

………

In our apartment, there stays an elderly couple. They came from some other place, after selling their own residence, and bought this flat. They were unable to maintain their home alone, hence they decided to purchase a flat, where they’ll get the other support services, some more people around to stay together with. Their children were all well settled in other cities, in and outside the country. So they needed support services as their health were deteriorating, and they were left all alone.

I got to know the lady while attending a workshop in our school, just after two-three days of their shifting. She came as a (retired) senior representative from a different school. I was surprised to see her there, went forward and introduced myself. She was also surprised and quite happy to know that, we were staying in the same apartment.

That evening Auntie came to our house and we got to know each other more closely. In the first few minutes, I felt my heart string getting attached to hers, somewhere deep within. I was not sure if it was true, or my way of connecting to whom I choose to like.. but somewhere something clicked.

Her way of speaking, the way she smiled while talking, her well composed talks, her views, her way of carrying herself. She is such a charming lady, solving problems with patience and calm. She carries her age with so much dignity and grace. I really started liking her from our first meet. Her soft-spokenness, yet strong willed and practical ways of treating people and things attracted me immensely. She politely speaks out her much bold words. She is just wonderful at performing her duties quietly and on time. She worked in a school for her whole life and retired. She took to her home life so gracefully as well. Without any depression or signs of psychological ageing, or feeling low for being locked at home, after working outside for so many years. I’ve seen these things start setting in, in many people after their retirement.

Her husband, from the totally opposite nature wears his temper on his nose. No time, place or people around, he’ll consider, while shouting on his wife. As a person he has a heart made of gem. Extremely helpful, kind hearted, yet strong, full of self respect, dignity and grandeur. A retired army officer he was, and that role he plays now at home.

Auntie.., (as you have very well understood by now, that, I just love to talk/write about her anytime.) …keeps her cool when her ‘He-man’ is at his shouting spree. Doesn’t speak a word in her own defense, rather just goes quiet. If any of us are around there somewhere, she’ll just hide her face from him, turn towards us, wink and give a naughty smile. She seems knowing that he will cool down immediately. And truly, the next moment he is found grinning, justifying his logic for his outburst. But any person, won’t be able to hear those words of rage, with so much calm, like this lady of his. He knows that very well. His reasons are mostly so negligible that they never justify his unnecessary shoutings on her.

They might not be saying, “I Love You” a single time in a day, but their frail smiles and tolerance says those three words loudly, each time they adjust with each other. We need special ears to hear them. There’s such a great amount of understanding, which proves their subtle love for each other.

And for that, I really admire the lady. I’m no one to them, by birth, but I feel like I am someone very near to them by heart. It seems, I know her for so long. May be we have met sometime, somewhere.. while on our soul journey, down the ages.

Anyways, my anxiety lessened as soon as I got a WhatsApp message from her, that they have reached their destination on scheduled time safely.

What is this, World..?? This strange connection. A soul connection.. isn’t it..??

Thoughtsmith busy thinking… πŸ€”

πŸ˜‰πŸ˜πŸ’•

___________________________βœπŸΌπŸ’•


14 Comments

110. Feelings.. (III)

18th July, 2018

Feeling detached from all,

All my duties are on.,

But feelings gone.

A strange peace I feel,

Till now, attachment kept me,

Away from this gleam.

I’m so happy,

I saw this light,

It’s a blessing from this life.

___________________________βœπŸΌπŸ’•


12 Comments

98. Feelings.. (II)

3rd July, 2018

The whole life, we spend thinking we know ourselves. Whereas, the fact is.. we don’t.

Don’t be surprised, we actually don’t know ourselves, we also don’t know our actual selves.

The whole of our life we spend on running after our dreams, desires, aspirations, and plans.. whereas, when we reach them, they all change, rather they all grow. We start running again.. for more in quality, quantity or variety.

We think we are such and such, this and that.. blah.. blah.. But when time comes, situations arrive, we find ourselves acting someone else. That’s the time we start thinking, rethinking…collecting and recollecting our real and scattered Selves.

“Why this happened to me?”… “Why did I do this?”… “Why did I say this?”… “Why didn’t I do that?”… “Was it my fault?”… “How did they say or do that with me?”… “Why did they think I deserved that?..Do I..??” … and many many more such queries.. in us, to us, from us, for us.

…This is introspection.

So many years, rather our whole birth we don’t know the self sitting inside us.

  • “What does it want from us..??”
  • “How we think we should we act and react, but end up being someone else..??”
  • “We want to say or do something, but we can’t.. why..??”
  • “If I know, and I’m sure that I l did the right thing, then why am I not happy..?”
  • “Who stops me from within from doing the things which I want to and why..?”
  • “Why do we sometimes feel like listening to it, why do we feel sometimes not to..??”

    …… And so many of such dilemmas fighting, with us, within.
    The whole life we run after our Selves only, like a mirage. To catch hold of our real ‘Self’.. Who am I..?? What am I.. How am I..??
    The way towards knowing its ways, knowing our actual Self, can only be done by concentrating on it, and that again can be done only through meditation.
    Can we, World..??

    While performing all our worldly works, tasks, duties, likes and jobs, let’s ponder on our Selves for a while. From our busy schedules, taking out a few minutes from so many hours shouldn’t be that tough or stressful I think..

    Don’t you think so World..??

    ……………………………………….βœοΈπŸ’•