A love letter

What is it that you seek, a love letter? A mere love letter doesn’t do justice to your love, my beloved.

It’s like the sun asking for a bit of moonlight.

Like the moonlight asking for city-lights.

Like the city-lights asking for a lamp.

Like the lamp asking for a wick.

Like the wick asking for a breeze.

Like the breeze asking for air. 

Like the air asking for breath.

Like the breath asking for its life.

Like life asking for love.

Like love asking for a heart.

Like the heart asking for music.

Like the music asking for a song.

Like the song asking for a tune.

Like the tune asking for rhythm.

Like the rhythm asking for a pattern.

Like the pattern asking for a shape.

Like the shape asking for form. 

Like the form asking for matter.

Like the matter asking for energy.

Like the energy asking for its source.

Because the source of my energy is you in the shape of a lotus garland on the meditating Maheshwara, the form of my love is in rhythm with his damru, which is in tune with your favorite song… 

Its pattern repeats with aumkara’s eternal music that’s always played in the heart, which seeks and knows only love, which is life with breath, blending with the air around us, carrying our love-making fragrance in the breeze that sustains the light on the kidavillaku’s wick, even when I am asleep with my thoughts about you as Chennai’s city-lights drown the otherworldly moonlight eternally granted by the sun while awaiting sunrise!

Indebted for life, gratefully

Last Sunday night was unlike any night. I weathered a storm, which was unexpected. A dark, dark night.

I showed courage and true grit that I didn't know I possessed inside me. It was an awakening and a test of sorts. The kind of test that makes sentient humans stand out from instinct-driven animals.

Few of my oldest best friends came to know about the incident and they gave me their best advices and suggestions. Very valid points and very valid concerns. I am grateful to them for wishing me well and being concerned about my safety.

Monday dawned. It was the beginning of an anxious and uncertain day. After a long sleepless night.

Two angels came over to my place. Their calm and  thoughtful presence revealed that behind their young and child-like behavior, there's a mature and loving soul with a golden heart.

They spent the entire day with me. They comforted me and made a simple lunch. In the evening, after  the storm had passed and the emotional skies had cleared up, the man-child treated us to a lovely dinner at Ciclo Cafe.

This emotional mood piece is my only way of showing my humble gratitude to them, my heroes. Jona and Vaishnavi, the world is a much better place because of you.

I am indebted to you both forever for in my darkest hour, you weren't showing me where the light was, you didn't point your finger to the moon,  and you didn't perform an autopsy of my life and its irrational decisions or my eccentricities. You didn't play the devil's advocate. You didn't tell me to come over to your place, if I need to.

You came over to my place and just stayed. You asked me whether I am okay. You held my hands and made me believe that the next generation is not bereft of values and emotions. You worked silently. You spoke gently. Your faces revealed your tender love and care.

Jona and Vaish, I promise you I'll be there for you.
I'll be present. In that present moment.

And my advice, my words, my concerns will always take a back seat when all you need is my presence.