Cycle of pain: interview worth taken.

I shall be accompanying you.

Interview someone — a friend, another blogger, your mother, the mailman — and write a post based on their responses.

Recently I happened to meet a being of a different realm at my house. After having exchanged gestures, I requested if I could interview him. With the aid of the art of persuasion & ability to convince, the being accepted my proposal and got ready to sit for the interview.

Me: So, you are known as the ‘invincible’. How do you feel about yourself being called as ‘invincible’?

Death: Is it something to boast about? (with a cool demeanor ). I am not sure how you mortals feel, but yes, I do except that I am invincible. Nothing can surpass me (a little superior tone). Having pride or not, does not affect me at all ( an affirm tone).

Me: Don’t you feel bad that you are taking away someone forever? (With a pityful eyes)

Death: No, I don’t feel bad. (With no emotion)

Me: Would you kindly add for your answer? (Staringly)

After a pause, death replied.

Death: (With the same demeanor) I am designed for a purpose. The purpose is to take away everyone and anyone whose name comes in the list. It is my duty to visit whether young, old, middle aged, jolly, sad, sick, poor, vicious, cruel, saint and anybody – any energy enclosed in a vessel. Infact, I am summoned by the soul of a body directing me that I need to accompany it in their journey leading to the gates of the divine (in a poetic tone).

Me: What if the soul doesn’t summon you? (I was looking patiently with intriguing eyes.)

Death: (stress in the utterances) It feels the pain of being alive. I am the reliever of all the pain that the body has to undergo (with a relaxing tone, self proclaiming).

Me: Does the soul not feel pain?

Death: The soul is the best to answer that rightly. (Said with an upright chin)

Me: Do you believe in miracles?

Death: I, myself, is a miracle. Indeed a mystery. So definitely yes. (With confidence radiating a mystery on face)

Me: Why do you have to accompany the soul?

Death: Your question is repeated. Anyways, to elaborate, the soul is in cyclic energy(rising inflection). It is independent of everything. It has the ability to select if it wants to be reborn, but needs a medium i.e. the body. Or it may also will to be a free spirit.

(Calm and composed) My role is to free from the bondage of the body. It is only through my coming the soul is liberated. I have to come.

Me: Aren’t you harsh?

Death: May I have the liberty to ask you, ‘To whom’? (Questioning eyes)

Me: Oh definitely! I am so sorry. I mean to say, you take away the soul and never gives it back. In no way, the one who goes away comes back to the other mortals, to those who remain behind. There is an excruciating pain, an untold tragedy it’s loved ones undergo. What will you say on it?

Death: I don’t react to any situations. Mind of a mortal is free. I forbade them not to think. It is their will. Similarly, harshness is a perspective of a mortal mind. Remind you! I liberate souls. The loved one will have to embrace the absence and I cannot help to ease the pain. But it is all okay. Acceptance and embracing the ‘gone moment’ is celebrating life.

Me: If you are pleased with a mortal being and the mortal ask you to grant him her a wish, what would you grant?

Death: I would grant everything what the mortal asks for with a clause that ‘you have the full will to summon me. I will be at your call’. (A little rising inflection and with cool demeanor)

Me: What advice would you like to give me?

Death: When you call me, I am there to take you and liberate you from the oodles of pain. But imagine mine, I am never liberated (reflection on innerself). The divine created me to follow the commands of time, for ever (folded hands staring at the immense limitless sky). So be contented with the life you have. Be joyful that I am there to ease the journey of your loved one (a smile with a relaxed expression).

Me: I am ready to go with you.

Death: Yes, let me accompany then.

There was silence everywhere. My soul is free but the pain of my loved ones continues.

@jishti 14Sept 2023

Romantic

What’s your definition of romantic?

When Sadhguru said that love is a way we look at a thing, I instantly fell in love on his way of interpreting love. 

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CZ9JOukFO3w/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Romantic is a mindset where the mind is at an ethereal state of completeness, a feeling of an epiphanic moment. Need not necessary always associated with a person rather may be with anything that the self loves. Sometimes romantic is recalling an experience of the past, or manifest oneself in the future. It is being complacent with oneself.

With some screenshots from my blog story: Being Romantic

romantic is being loved and to love in a certain sweet way…

Romantic is sometimes taking a cup of coffee with choicest people around.

Still to say Goodbye.

Describe the last difficult “goodbye” you said.

Goodbye brings a hope to meet once again. But for me, how can I say goodbye when I know that I would never meet one more time. It is REALLY HARD. 

I am standing at an edge of a lane, staring at a pathway. As I walk through the way, I go on building courage to face her. I don’t want questions anymore invading my mind while well knowing that I would never find any answers to those.

I am actually waiting to have a glance, even it is for JUST ONCE. I am very unsure of, if only I could make out the presence of my 75 days old daughter around the grave where she is laid. It has been eight months that I have not seen her. By now her small unsteady footsteps would be confident. How longingly my ears yearn to hear soft feeble voice calling me “ma”. Then, in reality it is not a time for adieu.

If only I had another chance to meet you.                          If only I could see your sparkling eyes.                               If only I could touch you.                                            If only I could take you once again in my barren arms.                  If, if only I could say to you, "Stay with me for some more time".                                                              There would definitely not be a heartbreaking farewell, but a note "Goodbye, soon to meet you again". 

@jishti 19 June 2023

Baby leaves sprouting out

Describe one of your favorite moments.

I always ponder what an overwhelming feeling would be, untill I experienced one. Taking care of the flower plants is my leisure time. Staring and wondering at them gives me satisfaction to my soul. I AM RELAXED.

Pleasure was oozing while I looked at the lovely leafy plants in the pots that I kept on the verandah. Now it was the time for pouring water to them and clean the weeds out from the soil. The peace lilies were green, the dark purple verbinas radiated their smiles, while I look at the newly planted Christmas flower plants I see a lot of hairy roots at the nodes signifying that they are OK now. I will have immense joy when the night queen will bloom, and the mother of thousands plants will though take long time to have bulb like flowers…I will still wait. The snake plants purify the air around me, while the areca palm beautify the courtyard. And out of all, the many leafy plants whose names I still have yet not known, enthuse life in me.

At the end of the row, besides the ‘togor phul’, known as Crape Jasmine in English, stands stout the Bougainville. That day I saw only the lone brown stems with the tips capped with little cow dung cakes for better sprouts. You know, cow dung is a good manure for plants. I usually bring bag full of dried dung from the field where I go for morning walks. And later, mixed them well with soil. It’s common for us to that for planting.

Suddenly my eyes caught at the small baby leaves at the nodes of the ville. Aww! Such lovely is the feeling. “I thought you may not survive, but somewhere I still hoped” I said to them with teary eyes. I added, “It took long two months for the leaves to sprout. Oh God! Thankyou.”

That was my joy. I was waiting and waiting, and at last I got to know that they were alive. Very soon in the next season, I expect one or two flowers in them. Imagine, dark pink flowers on the branches will catch everyone’s attention. This is an elated experience of one of my favourite moments. Binging life to the plants have been an unending source of joy for me. It tells me that my little jia baby is happy while the grief in me knows well that I could not keep her soul intact in her body. I am injured to the core of my soul..whatever deepest depth a human have. Yet embracing these baby leaves on the Bougainville stems, emanates satisfaction to the part of love kept for her, the part of longingness felt for her.

The baby leaves on the Bougainville.💓

@jishti 18 June 2023

Joy in little things

Describe one simple thing you do that brings joy to your life.

When I look at the plants grow at home, my soul swings in tranquility. The racing heart of mine, finds peace and solace. And thereby, smile pulls up on my lips with a spark in my eyes. I AM RELAXED.

“As they too smile at me”

Gardening is not more satisfied than any other thing that I do. It is since I saw my daughter for the last time, I took to gardening. When I take care of the plants, I feel like I take care of my daughter as she is now a part of the nature. I remember the following line that I once taught in my classroom to the ninth grade students.

“No motion has she now/ She neither hears nor sees;”

Wordsworth’s A Slumber Did My Spirit Seal

Spending time with my flower pots, nurturing them satisfy my longing motherhood. The amount of time I would have given to her, I spend with these flowers instead. These flower plants at my courtyard are a bliss to me, which I never fail in the morning and evening to have a glance at them. I look at them and smile, hoping that they too smile at me. If only they could speak, they would say, “We were eagerly waiting for you, mommy.” With same fondness, I say to them, “I reached back, I will be with you.”

I miss my delight (Chanasya), but somewhere these flowers hanging from the pots on the grills of my verandah, send the message that they are there for me. These flower pots radiate sparkling sense of affection in the empty corridor of my heart. I am learning to embrace their company as I learn to take joy in little things.

Unedited picture with raw setting…I still smile as I look at you.🌸💖

@jishti 2023

Faithful Home 🏘️

Write about your dream home.

Today I am switching my profession to an architect and an interior designer. It’s a challenging task as I am not really changing physically but need to assume the thought pattern in those professional lines without knowing the ABCs of the subject.Yeah you heard me right because today’s prompt is on dream home. Ooops! I really don’t need switching, it’s home not house to talk about ☺️😉.

Dream home! We generally dream of a dream house 🏠 hoping that in the distant future, this dream will be materialised.But what about building a dream home that will promise happiness and contentment. Is building a home a ‘morisika’ (an Assamese term of mirage)? Technically to have a dream home I do not need to assume myself into other roles like of a dreamer,a planner and an executioner.

Home is full of warmth. Home that has imbalances in relationship, retreat for reconciliation, division and split relationship is a broken home and is shattered from all corners. It is like a mirror which has been slashed into pieces.

The eye of a little god, four-cornered

Sylvia Plath “Mirror”

Home is like Sylvia Path’s ‘Mirror’; mirror that reminds me of physical ageing whereas home reminds me of aesthetic ageing i.e. the older, the stronger bonds.Where in mirror, I am trying to find out the real reflection of myself in that lake of reflections, home reflects the image of strengthening relationship, growth of trust and purer love among the members.

I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.

Sylvia Plath “Mirror”

Don’t you think home is a part of one’s heart and flickers when there is resentment among the dwellers when expectations are not fulfilled?

I would define my dream home as cozy shelter, structurally in a small house. I crave for an open space as the front yard and a backyard too which is embellished by a small kitchen garden and a lot of flower pots ☺️, so that when I look at them, I remember of my heartwarming heart, nurture and care.

For me,the bigger the house is, the larger space for alloofness creeping in.The more of time required for me to read gestures of my family members 💓. Privacy would be more private leading fissures for distance. I really dislike moving like robots in the house which actually would be a home.

With ticking time, home is never a ‘terrible fish’ 🐟 where I would blame the moonlight and the candles as ‘liars’ for hiding the blemishes and wrinkles in their ‘soft glow’, indeed home is the beauty of maturity.A dream home is the ability to create, it is to touch hearts and celebrate love and life.

Ma …I will miss you.

Ma …I will miss you.

Shall I restart?

How to restart when stagnancy is deeply rooting?

For the feeling of a pain of loss is surfacing

As the Scars of unwanted farewell is  traumatizing.

Jia, I didn't know what your pain was.

But only can assume with your constant cries when ur head seems to pas.

Sometimes guilt overrides my selfish unconditional love that radiates the light as the stars. 

But you were adamant to leave mumma,fate beyond my control.

Perhaps in a devastating state of so cold.

How I wish to relive the warmth of you being in my arms 

Restarting our lives together holding onto thy palms.

Scribblings of my daughter

Scribblings of my daughter

Valentine Talks

Me and Be together
(image Pixabay, amalgamated on MS PowerPoint)

Me and Be stood along the path which was actually forbidden: declaring their being together would be inviting holocaust. They were similar to the two banks of a river that could never meet. The fringes of hope did linger in them as like the vast sea that had zest of life in turbulence, definitely meets the fertile land creating its bay.
As they walked on the trodden way ‘which was less travelled by’, they would find joy in small things. There were responsibilities for both, trying their best in their affairs, adjusting and maintaining. However, both preserved their emotions only meant for each other.

As they now walked by the bay, their little fingers hooked, Me leaned on Be, as they watched the setting sun. The cool breeze hitting the faces hummed the rhythm of solace. Me raised her head and looked at Be’s face which was once again shimmered with joy- with fulfilment.

A smile pulled on his lips that reached his eyes and whispered “Me, Valentine’s Day is meant for being in transitory; we are not. Our Commitments are valuable like the sun is valuable to lives here. The setting sun promises for a new day, so we.”

There was no verbal response from Me but with a nod, she clanged closest to him. Be moved his head a bit to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. They both still held the joy to one another. The sun bade farewell promising the sky for a brighter day; there was hardly any sea gull flying but the stars were let to twinkle. As the breeze blew gradually falling in temperature, it was time to retire to bed…

Valentine Talks is From Diary of Me and Be, a compilation of short episodes of Me and Be, a fictional work by Teddy@101:BharariBaruah