Mirror a wordless reflection one morning in winter. Wordless beauty.
Looking at this today brings back long gone memory of a time when he first had a glimpse of her in the mirror. She was getting ready to go to work. He watched her at the door. He could only see her back. But then he saw her smiling in the mirrored reflection. She has her way of smiling which captures heart. Many years ago. Sparkling eyes smiling. He never forgets that smile. Wordless and yet beautiful. He cannot forget.
How to say goodbye
when he has not even left
many tears and sighs ~~~~~~~~~No, he cannot say goodbye. He has left too many of himself behind. On this particular day he climbs many thousand feet and sees this distant white mountain, so beautiful and enchanting part hidden by the cloud. The scene is most unusual as it is the last day of January and they are supposed to have snow. But the ground is dry and brown and bare. The river T. is still like a dusty long forgotten discarded old mirror. The distant mountain is gleaming white, covered in snow. But the mountain saves the day by its view from a distance. It is too late to go the other side and he has to satisfy himself by viewing from afar, imagining what it is like on the other side. He remembers once he went to her house, not exactly there, a distance away from her house, separated by a park and a lake. He parked his car at the lakeside, under the cool shed of a lone tree. It was an off day from office and he had nowhere to go but to be near her somehow somewhere. So he went there, knowing she was on her off day too after her 48 hours of duty as an assistant anesthetist in the operation theatre. She would be sleeping off the effect of the gases. So he merely stayed under the tree and thought of her. They had newly met and she hardly had time for him. But he was happy and in love. Even though he had to love her from a distance then. It was a wonderful day after all. She woke later and they went for a meal, just the two of them. How can he say goodbye now? He has left his jogging shoes behind. Or perhaps he has left his baseball cap? Or maybe he has left his many half-read books on her shelf? Or his unfinished manuscripts which she has been editing? Yes, he definitely cannot say goodbye. He has left his heart behind.
~~~~(Concerning your recent thoughts of our past.) I HAVE BEEN THINKING LATELY TOO. Our past. Because there are too many memories. After all we have accumulated 23 years (8395 days, 201480 hours, 12,088,800 minutes, 725,328,000,000 seconds) of being together. I think of the time that had passed. I think of our marriage life together. I would consider our life a good life. We were very close, like the best of friends and much much closer. When I think of the sands running out in the hour-glass of time, I wonder why I never managed to grab them and refuse to let go. I admit I am a mortal. There are things I cannot change. When I was very young, in school, I read a novel titled, “The Foolish Immortals”. I was drawn to the title. Only fools try to become immortal. I know there are impossibilities in human lives. We cannot change certain natural pre-arrangements. We trust science but we know whatever changes we perform down here are not changed in the spiritual realm. There is a fixed registry there for each mortal. Even marriage. Even love between two individuals. The span, the length, the breadth, the depth, the height. 725.3million seconds is not a short time. But it is too short for me. Far too short. I cannot retract each second much as I want to. Instead of going back to the future I would want to have a vehicle that will bring me back to the past, yes, way past, to before I was even born. I want to ask the Creator to give me a different registry. I would beg for a change in my life history. I would not let go until He says yes. If only I have that miraculous vehicle to go back. I would live differently, still with you, my love, but much much differently. I would not need to let go. Never. Like Pablo Neruda’s poem, “Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”
Excerpts from a poem by Pablo Neruda: Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
…She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes
…Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her….
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
…Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Time fascinates me. Love can come so fast and gone too soon. Like the fresh snow on the trees. By the time I capture this scene the trees have become green again. The snow has not left a trace on the leaves. I only know that it has snowed because of the white ground. Someone says there is at least six inches of snow. I think of the time we have had together. When I return now to the place where we have been I cannot find anything of yours left behind. Yet I know you have been here with me once and the love we have had has been far deeper and more than the mere six inches of snow. Yet how can anyone ever try to measure the height and depth of love? Someone tries to and composes a song for his loved one in which he claims that he has decided to love her ten thousand years. It is a catchy song and many have sung it to their loved ones. I don’t remember whether I have done the same. I like that song. But I know it is not true. Because no mortal can live that long on earth. I cannot even hold tomorrow in my hand at this moment, how can I talk about ten thousand years? Even if you and I can live ten thousand years, to me it is still too short for my love for you. Trillion? Maybe. But still not close enough.
~~~~~~~~~the word today starts with “R”. Regret. Remorse. Repent. Repressed. Reversed. In matters of human relationship sometimes the harm done is irrevocable. You just cannot reverse the car and pretend that nothing had happened if you have already run over something. On the other hand, the word today can start afresh in more positive expressions: Refreshed, Restored, Reconciled, Rejoice, Regenerated, Rejuvenated, Re-engineered, Revalued (upward), Renovated and many more. There are neutral words too. Revealed. What is revealed is good or bad depends on the content revealed. But it also depends on the interpretor. Like this picture I took with a shaky hand from a vehicle behind a glass barrier. It turned out poorly. But the actual content (the sunset view on a flat land with still water and weeds) is quite nice to behold. I missed the opportunity of capturing the moment of beauty and grace. But did I really miss it? No, there is a sharp and accurate picture stored in my memory (far more superior than a chip). In relationship too, we may think of the past with some regrets. But when we really recall, we can find more moments of joy and love truly shared and treasured. It is the positive contents of a relationship that matter. Yet, on some lonesome moments when we look at old photos, we still would wish we could have loved the others better. Resolution? Take all the positive Rs and start working on relationships that matter to me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~today he knows the extent of his grief. He now knows the length and width and depth of his sense of loss. The ocean of loss.
He is just testing a new mop to see if it functions as claimed like a prized possession. After cleaning a corner of the tiled floor he thinks he might as well clean the whole kitchen. After cleaning the kitchen he thinks he might as well clean the whole sitting room. After that he thinks he might as well clean the guest room and the store at the back. After that he looks at the staircase and thinks he might as well clean it too. when he reaches the top of the stairs he cleans the first floor hall, the master room, another guest room and so on. He ends up cleaning the whole house except one guest room because it is locked. He has spent about eleven hours mopping, breaking all time record. What is a writer doing wielding a mop (brand new it may be)? Nothing can be more incongruous. He should have been wielding a pen. Then he remembers a scene of Forrest Gump running from ocean to ocean for no particular reason. But unlike Forrest, in his case, he cannot turn back. Since he has run this far, at this land end, he might as well cross it.
Here is the quote from the movie: The context is when Forrest Gump found out that Jenny (his lifelong love) did not want to marry him and had chosen to leave him. He woke up one morning and found that she had left him.
That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run. So I ran to the end of the road. And when I got there, I thought maybe I’d run to the end of town. And when I got there, I thought maybe I’d just run across Greenbow County. And I figured, since I run this far, maybe I’d just run across the great state of Alabama. And that’s what I did. I ran clear across Alabama. For no particular reason I just kept on going. I ran clear to the ocean. And when I got there, I figured, since I’d gone this far, I might as well turn around, just keep on going. When I got to another ocean, I figured, since I’d gone this far, I might as well just turn back, keep right on going.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Writing about love is tough because love is tough. Writing a haiku as a love letter is tougher. How to speak love in three lines, each in a limited number of sound syllabus, totaling seventeen syllabus in all? If you can, please tell me. Sometimes he feels like trying to describe this marshland. Not far from the ocean and yet it is not a seashore. It does not have the clean and pure snow white sands that tumble all the way down the emerald green water and thence hidden under the jeweled green moist and soft carpet, joyously twirling, reaching for the end of the horizon to touch the dreamy purple mountain on another shore, or perhaps further rising, stretching and touching the blue painted sky, becoming part of the great picture in the celestial realm deckled and crested with the most precious translucent stars at night. No. This marshland is brownish and does not sparkle even when under the sun. That is how a love haiku appears at times when sad water churns within a man’s heart bringing up muddy sands while struggling to decide to love or not to love. Yes, the sadness is due to him being far and yet far enough from the one he loves. Like the brown sands away from the ocean. He can hear the ocean tenderly singing its songs at night but he cannot reach it.