May 10, 2012 § 6 Comments

Five months ago, the night was torn asunder with the moon afresh and eclipsed. Everyone sat waiting for the shadow to pass, for the daunting time the moon was not at its fullest. They seemed to be waiting for it to be more present, in order to be so themselves. Nobody ate, nobody smiled; the world seemed abstruse. I climbed up further, above the stationed street lights, above the mystical clouds, above my home, to search for it. Some watched it on the television; it had made the news that night. I soon ran back down and called out to the children, convincing them to pull away from the screen and see it firsthand. Nervous, they joined me as we ran to greet the night. A girl of nine couldn’t believe her eyes. What surprised her was that it was real, even in this small little town. That the important people that broadcast the news right into her home cared about something she was witness to; that a town that far too often escaped their gaze was, in fact, a part of their world.


May 3, 2012 § 8 Comments

He was known to most of the neighbourhood. Familiar and principally calm, he wandered through our worlds, and although incapable of politely asking him to leave, we chose to be welcoming. That was until he found the well.

Situated in the garden of one of the households, the occupants soon found their grass trampled on, flowerbeds revamped, and themselves having to share water with Boltu. About 6 feet high, Boltu is a lone male gaur that traverses parts of our little town caught between forest lands. With a distinguished chip on his left horn and his preference for solitude, he is easy to place. And yet, amidst familiarity, he stood afraid. Fear of bright lights, rocks being thrown, the paramount booing and chasing by those who bought his land left him as cornered and scared as the perpetrators of these acts, leaving all scrounging for a solution between equally worried stakeholders.

And as May pierces through our days and resident unions are formed, we hope and pray that our own struggles are in tandem with his.

April 12, 2012 § 2 Comments

Shivers down the earth’s spine send tremors up the mountains.

Clinging to the sides of a hill seems easier when such waves are secondary, but they still wash over us, enrapturing us with their movements and connecting us to the sea and the world below.

Rivers of grey flow through the heavens as the sun struggles to colour the end of another worrisome day.

November 22, 2011 § 3 Comments

I searched,
a search that was my own.
I looked into my core,
and there within,
found your spirit.

Perplexed and rattled,
violated and prehended;
I wanted to cry out,
but knew only you
would hear me.

March 10, 2011 § 3 Comments

I haven’t been here in what may soon be two years.

The warmth of this rock does nothing but embrace me like an old friend. Its presence has always been of great comfort; its glory, a wondrous vantage point. It’s a mystery how some things become and some things don’t; I’m gladdened by its becoming.

There was once a time when I feared forgetting. I believed my only means of understanding myself, was understanding my own journey. I still wish to remember these things, but I also wish to remember that they are not who I am, so I must not fear losing them.

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