I was reading Ada Blackjack’s story ( written by Jennifer Niven)..
In it there is a Inuit fable about lady in the moon.
The story about a girl falling in love with a guy from another world..His rejection, her struggles and her choices, her travel to the moon and her stay with the lady of the moon. It talks about her homesickness and how she longed to go back to her home. The lady of the moon finally helps her to get back to earth..
In the end she comes back to the place where she was born.. but nothing remained there. Her parents were long dead. her house had gone..
I keep thinking of going back..yet I know there is nothing there to go back to..

I really do.
I keep everything for the last minute..
And now the weather is so bad.. that my last minute shopping won’t be done and my kids will skin me alive.

Absolutely anything for some spicy food!!
I am staying with my friends and today I actually scavenged my friend’s pantry and found a bottle of Cajun seasoning..
it was like manna from heaven !!
There was nothing I could actually use the cajun seasoning on.. so I made scrambled egg and practically doused it with cajun seasoning..I felt rather sick at the end of the meal (the cajun seasoning had seen better days, exp date on the bottle was 2001!)
So right now.. as I type this.. I really really really would love to have a bowl of Kanji, some payar thoran and a bowl full of the hottest spiciest mango pickle..

I am so bloody drunk…I am not even sure why I am trying to blog something when I am drunk.
It feels so good finally to just sit down and enjoy a bottle of vodka.
Tonite I don’t have to worry about drink driving
I don’t have to worry about what my children will think of me
I don’t actually have to worry about anything.. it has been so long since I felt that way..
So here is a cheers..
Tonite I shall drink myself to oblivion..and tomorrow when I have the worst hangover.. I shall tell myself.. it was worth it.. I hope i shall survive

My maternal grandmother had done a cross stitch entirely using sugar beads. It was a Georgian cross with the words “Bear the cross and win the crown” at the bottom. I must have been about 4 years old when i saw it. I couldn’t read english and asked Chechy to read it for me. She did. But then she wouldn’t tell me what it meant. I hate not knowing something. I begged and pleaded with my sister to tell me what it meant, the more I begged, the more she refused. There was no one else to ask. ( I could never go to Amma and ask, she felt I was too nosey!!)

This morning I was thinking of my maternal grandmother. I know I never wrote much about her. She was a very tiny woman with a big heart. I remember her letting me use her lap as a slide ! She never complained. Not once. She took whatever came her way in her stride.

It is odd that I thought of her in my moments of despair. Even more odd that I thought about that cross stitch I have not seen for the last 35 yeara.

I guess what i am going through right now is my cross. Mine alone and I must bear it. How I wish i could just run..
I don’t need a crown.
Never did
But I do wish i have the strength to carry this cross.

I will be Away until the end of this month

When you love someone, you are allowing yourself open to unimaginable hurt. Sometimes it is so very painful..
There is absolutely nothing worse than loving someone and then not knowing if he would allow himslef to love you in return. If he will take that chance to trust and believe that you won’t hurt him.

I can write a 20000 words assignment on medical related topics. I can even do a book review, but when it comes to love and expressing my love, I am hopeless. Why? I don’t know. It is like there this great wall that separates my feelings and what I can do with words. I love to make the words dance with my feelings..but sometimes.. I just can’t

Today is a very important day for me. Today is Zahir’s birthday. And I wanted to tell him how much I love him. I tried to write and this is what I could write.

Here it goes

Zahir

There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found the perfect one. Then singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to out-carol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at th cost of great pain…or so says the legend.(C McCullough)

The bird with the thorn in its breast, it follows an ageless, constant law, It has to, rather it must find its own thron tree for it to complete what it came to this world to do. Once the thorn pierces its breast, it sings and sings till there is no more song and die singing.

I have often wondered would I do such a thing if it was going to cause my own extinction. Was the price of the most beautiful song worth the costs?

The thing is, I always felt that the song I came to sing remains unsung ( Tagore)

I so very badly wanted to sing the song from my heart. But I could never sing. The song was surely there, but it was missing the thorn.

But we all need to sing our song. That is the most basic irrevocable law. We keep searching for our own thorn trees. We have to, because the song need to be sung, must be sung.

I chose to love you, not for any reason but for love.When I put the thorn in my breast, I knew. I understood what it is going to cost me.and I still did it.

I gave you my heart and my soul. Because that is what I want..

You are the reason I can sing the most melodious song. Your presence in my life has borught so much joy and happiness.

My love for you is not like anyother. The love that I have for you is from my soul,

I have nothing worldly to give you, but I can give you a gift that no one can ever give.

That is “ME”..

On your birthday, I hope you will hear the song from my soul and know that you are being loved more than anything and anyone.

I want to smack my head for the lousy way this letter has turned out. Bt I know, you know what I mean.

Happy Birthday.

I LOVE YOU.