My last two posts are not like any I've written earlier. In fact Sheels, my wonderful friend here, is aghast at the new philosophical Basant!  Hey Sheels.. it was just a passing phase !!! A Big Thank you for your concern Sheels

Anyways, the credit for these posts goes to my ilander friends. Here s how

Window of Life.. The window in the post is symbolic. Each of us has our own personal window. If one is lucky it would be one's spouse, or else it could be a sibling, a parent, a friend, a net pal, a diary or whatever. A dear dear friend of mine here on iland, has a habit of periodically restricting access to herself rendering one incapable of communicating with her.That made me realize momentarily, how utterly helpless one feels in such a situation and gave rise to "The Window of Life."  

Here's a big Thank you to her.

Chasing Shadows An ilander friend "Lakshmi", wrote 'Stop chasing shadows. Enjoy the substance of Life" But isn't the substance of life full of sorrow, with a sprinkling of the shadow of happiness? Shadow coz happiness is mostly elusive, fleeting, one cant hold on to it.. And then my thoughts harked back to the Buddha quote "To light a candle is to cast a shadow" and my ilander friend ThinkTank's comment "why call the shadow and darkness evil ? ” Just taking his comment further, the shadow became the elusive happiness which we chase, the moon, like the candle in the Buddha quote, casts the shadow, which is now the shadow of happiness, and not evil. Without the moon, there would be no shadow cast, so the clouds need to be kept at bay, so let in the breeze to dispel the clouds, and keep your moon, the light in your life, shining brightly on and around you, so that it casts you own personal shadow of happiness permanently around you..

A big Thank you Laks and you too Think Tank.

Bit convoluted but worth a thought naa   :):):) .? And yes… am still searching desperately for my mooooonnnn…:):)

He had been running. Running like he had never run before. As quick as his feeble legs could carry him. As fast as his pain wracked body would permit. Faint intermittent glimpses of his quarry, spurred him on despite the despondency in his heart. His hollow chest wheezing with every step, he grasped for some measure of support at the despairing walls, single mindedly concentrating on his pursuit. Turning a blind eye to the pain coursing through his body, he frantically ignored his mind shouting out to him to stop please stop. At last he was close..or so he thought yes..it was finally within reach Summoning the last vestiges of energy, he made the final lunge. He leaped as his heart soared at the prospect of finally embracing happiness.

The dark clouds loomed before the moon, threateningly coming closer, appearing larger, more menacing. It was only a matter of time before they would swallow the moon in their vastness, blocking in totality, the slivers of silvery light, that shone radiantly upon the dark alleys. As he ran the clouds moved closer to the moon, riding on the back of a cold northern wind, which desperately tried to disperse the clouds, trying ever so hard to spread away the gloom seeping from them, so the moonlight could continue its bright journey. The wind wheezed as he did, and gave one final gust, bellowing with all the power it could muster, just as he made his final lunge filled with anticipation and elation, towards happiness..

The wind had tried its best. It failed to cause more than a slight momentary flutter amongst the densely bunched clouds. The moon, swallowed into the deep dark belly of the clouds, erased every trace of light, rendering the alleys as dark as a blind mans world.

He lay sobbing unable and unwilling to move, his fists closed over emptiness.

The shadow of happiness is hidden within the substance of sorrow.

Look for the moon in your life to find it, rather than chasing the shadow.

Let the breeze into your life every once in a while to dispel the clouds that threaten to mar the brilliance of your moon, even if only momentarily so.

He was happy. Childishly happy. Slowly he made his way to the seat by his window. Glancing out, he saw kids playing. He could feel their happiness as if it were his own. He sat there for hours just watching them, their happiness and joy feeding his own. That's  how it was at the start. The window reflected his feelings. He saw  his feelings through his window. It never failed him. When sad he saw the blind beggar wailing the day away, when tired, he saw the poor labourers toiling hard in the sun, when old memories flooded his mind, he saw the young couple, deeply engrossed in a world of their own  

As the years passed, he became dependent on his window.. not only to reflect his feelings, but to actually give rise to them what he saw began influencing his thoughts.

Soon he learnt to see  just what he wanted to see. Now, when he needed to feel happiness all he had to do was to go to his window and selectively see the happiness around him.

It rose like a monstrous heartless ogre, threatening to wrench away his life, his very being. Within days it would be all be over. He knew not what to do. It was like death coming closer slowly, surely. He felt a suffocation begin to close upon him. He fervently chased through the blind alleys of his mind, for some way to avoid the inevitable. He thought of God, not as he did each day.. but with a heart rending plea of help, mingled with hope at first, then total desperation.

Each day he watched it, dreadfully, as it grew, higher  and higher, reaching up to him like  a mythical monster from whose talons there was no escape. He sat awake through the days and nights, throat dry and constricted, naked fear in his eyes, dreading the day it would be upon him, knowing it was just a matter of time, yet not able to reconcile himself to the  inevitable.

It was there. Casting a pall of gloom throughout his little room. Blocking the sunlight, the breeze, the world. His world seemed to be no more. The suffocation reached its peak. He was drained, The blood froze in his veins and could feel his life ebbing away and  could do nothing. Would do nothing. He cried out in anguish, beating his head on the sill of the very window which had kept his world alive. He fell to his knees, hands raised upwards, as if in a final hopeless plea to the Almighty, the Almighty who himself seemed so  helpless. He fell to the hard floor, not feeling the pain, not feeling anything. Nothing mattered anymore. His world remained no more.

It was only the next day that his housekeeper found him. Curled up on the floor at the feet of his window. Empty fists tightly  balled up as if holding onto something, not wanting  to let go. The labourers helped pick his frail body and load it into the ambulance. He was rushed to the hospital. The doctors announced him barely alive but completely comatose.

They dumped him on a stretcher, wondering how long he would be here, whether it would have been better had he been dead, and how much trouble it caused them all.  As the stretcher rolled into the ward, they thought they heard a meek frail voice say ” by the window..the bed by the window pleeeaase…..”

When nights are long…and friends are few…

I sit by my window… and think of you…

A silent whisper… a tiny tear….

With all my heart…I wish you were here.