Idle mind devil's workshop??

That's how the wise men put it. All my writing skills seem to come into action only during absolutely jobless times. I withdraw into a little corner of my mind, shut myself out to the others, to the painful world, to strained relations, to heartache, activities, duties, responsibilities and just unwind in my personal space.
When my mind is at rest or is struggling to hold onto something good and positive I let my thoughts wander, wherever they please. Into forbidden lands, unchartered territories, to places my life will probably never take me.
And during these wanderings I say to myself that it will all be better someday and life has something nice in store for me. It may not happen today, may not tomorrow either but it will someday.
Then I picture myself happy and I see in my mind's eye that all is well.


But my greatest fear is that a day will come when I am too busy to be there for myself. What will happen then?

Blank

Sometimes one just sits there staring at the wall (here the computer) waiting for this spark, this inspiration or a divine revelation, or a stroke of creative genius but all one draws is a blank.
And it takes superhuman strength to not succumb to the feeling of lethargy and unproductiveness.
All I can think of to motivate me is 'How dull it is to rust unburnished, not in use'

But then again I'm no Ulysses

Firsts..........

What is it that's so magical about firsts? Your first paycheck, the first kiss, first bike, first love, all firsts. They make you smile, make your hair stand on end, make you feel like you are at the right place, at the right time. (I don't know about you but that's something that very rarely happens to me)
It feels like the whole universe just came together and chose to make you happy. Out of the blue. You are just sitting there and boom!!!! something wonderful, unexpected, something absolutely and totally beyond words happens.
Hmmmmmm all you can do is smile. Till your face hurts.

Hey do tell me about any of your such moments.

Parents love

Is it possible to just keep loving a person? Through all their ups and downs, changes in loyalties, in attitudes, in behaviour, in nature? Somehow parents find it in themselves to do that.
You could be a compulsive liar, a kleptomaniac, an arrogant, indignant one, you could be discovered in the middle of the night in the company of the opposite sex in your room, you could get yourself pregnant, you could be a rapist, a murderer, a "pussy whipped" (I quote a dear, silver tongued, very vociferous, articulate and cogent friend) husband, you could have a thousand affairs, you could be the worst person alive and yet they would continue to love you, to feel for you, to pray for you, to accept you, to want to reform you.
The Holy Bible says,"A man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife and the two shall become one flesh. So they are no longer two, but one flesh." Matthew Ch 19 Vs 5 and 6.
So once we're married we owe the people who conceived us, bore us, made us, nurtured us, provided us with a comfortable life and opportunities nothing. We just shake the dust off our hinds, put our arms around our life partner and walk away! To our own world, one without the interference and the nuisance and the unsolicited yet freely given guidance from parents. How come we can't tolerate their shortcomings? But they accept every flaw, every despisable, loathsome characteristic of ours. How selfish, ungrateful and cruel can we get?

The scenario is no different for unmarried ones. We want our freedom. We want to be left alone. We feel stifled and claustrophobic under the wings of our makers. We loathe them, disrespect them, disobey them, hurt them, insult them, criticise them, bad mouth them. We want to be on our own. Making our own mistakes, choices, paving our own way. Without them.

And yet they just keep on loving us.

Sometimes I wonder why do couples trade in their happiness, freedom life to devote their entire lives, every breathing moment for the care, development and well being of their own children. Only to be rejected and discarded when they require the same care and love and affection. My parents chose to have me. And to keep me. For that I am grateful.

Mommy, Papa I love you. I am sorry for letting you down in the past. I hope someday I make you proud. And you can hold your head high and say,"That's my daughter!"

Happy birthday mommy. (I know this entry is two days after your birthday) but I want to wish you all the same.
Thank you for everything. For protecting me, for nagging me endlessly (IT would be nice if we could reduce the dosage though!). For just being there. Always.

What is most amazing is knowing that I can count on you forever and no matter what I do or what I become you would still want me.

Thank you Mommy!