The Crimson Sparkle

It was a beautiful morning .. as I woke from my bed.. and looked through the window….  the lovely blue sky ornamented by the Sun spreading his golden cover…  on the lush green garden… The birds chirping…  enjoying a sip of water from the bird bath .. I thanked God for waking me up to yet another day. And then my eyes fell on a diamond like sparkle on the grass…  Still in morning daze, trying to read the million words that this  beautiful painting that nature had drawn, I walked to my Kitchen… picked up my hot piping tea.. and walked into the garden.. The feel of wet grass.. the warmth of the morning tea… the glaze of the morning sun.. the pretty blue sky as a backdrop to the green grass .. I walked to  the thing that looked like a diamond.. It was a rose petal. .  just fallen from the plant… almost like it was separated from its family. But there it was ..a rose petal..  beautiful and red… as lovely as crimson red could be .. surrounded by soft lush green carpet of grass… with a  water drop sparkling on it.. It was a beautiful thing to watch.. small but beautiful…  fallen but vibrant….

As I started waking up from my morning daze, this fallen role petal started talking to me. It made me wonder about its self less nature… where even in separation from it s plant, it had chosen to make the world smile with its beauty.. and magic happened.. the lost water drop.. the green grass burning in the sun.. all of it started to look beautiful… my backyard had become an oasis.. with a diamond like petal sparkling  in it.  Can we people also spread some beautiful soul  and smiles, even in moments of sadness and grief ! Can we learn from the fallen petal? Can we make the world a beautiful place even when we are sad? The beautiful petal continued to wither…   by evening, the petal had burnt in the afternoon sun, the drop was gone … the grass was dry.. the petal had withered away .. . but what could not wither away was the memory of its timeless beauty … a gift treasured .. and a hope for another beautiful morning.. a new awakening…. a lesson remembered .. of the Crimson sparkle.

Tender

This is the story of  your heart…. the love that you have for this other heart .. you do not even know how much this other heart loves you .. or .. how much you are loved.. but it does not matter..what matters is that you have this feeling..  even when it is the toughest of times.. when your fist is clenched .. when your  heart is broken .. when your mind is sore with revengeful thoughts .. even when you feel like fighting with everybody else .. even on such bad days..even in those bad moments . when you have a gush of revenge , anger, hatred flowing through your veins.. one thought of this heart that you love.. just freezes all other feelings .. all you feel is a sweet feeling..where u smile thinking about it .. where your eyes can tell that you long to meet the other heart..   where you long for that touch.. and that feeling ..that moment …that glimpse in your eye…all of that ..can be described in one word ..’tender’ .. you soften… you smile.. you find your purpose..and the anger of that moment just dissapears…

treasure your tender feelings ..  those feelings define what you are….    and one thing more..if you ever do feel angry towards somebody else.. think about that tender love… that the other person is made of….  and y ou will like the other person too …

I had a dream.. that I was you

“You are not my kind. You were born of a different religion. You think differently because you do not belong to my religion. You have a different color. You talk differently. You do not praise the same God that I do. You should not be on this earth. You do not deserve to live…

You have no idea what it is for me to live. I was born in a humble cottage. I had aspirations. I worked hard to earn my bread. And then your community started this violence. you killed my people. I spend my life thinking about life and protecting my family from you rather than spending a decent life. You are an unwanted part of my life .. and of this world”  I thought about you, cursed you and went to bed. My tired eyes closed soon and I was dreaming. A bad dream. A dream that I was born again.. in your community….  aspiring to have a family and live a decent life. tired of the struggle.. .. I saw myself wishing bad for the other community.. I had a dream .. that I was you….

Let us both  dream..  that we will live together in peace.. after all I am just me…  but I could have been you.

The color of color

The Olive branch.. the red rose.. the blue ocean.. the color of color has never changed… red has always been red to all of us..and so has been blue, red… when my red color is not different from your red color and your red color is not different from his red color…. we do try to differentiate between you, me and him

The Sound of Rain

It is raining outside … I  can smell the earth… reminds me of my childhood.. in my country.. the same sound of rain.. the same smell of earth… I am sure you have heard the sound of rain before … we all hear the same sounds.. why dont our eyes see the same things.. why dont we see the same sweet heart in every human being.. why do we see black, white and brown people.. when they all have the same heart… why dont

Which language is that?

It was a stromy night.. the wind was blowing through the tree leaves making a hustling sound.. it sounded so ghostly… you could almost feel a shadow walk in the next room.. may be it was just the shadow of a curtain,..but for that split second, your heart sank.. u missed a beat or two.. ur heart sent a message to your brain…telling you that you are scared..which language was that?????

You were walking on a sunny day.. holding the little fingers of your kid… you were enjoying the sun ..and feeling good that you are able to spend time with your kid.. you felt nice that you could afford all the luxuries of life for  your kid.. and then across the road, you see a poor mom.. trying to shield her kid from the sun with her torn dress.. the kid is crying.. you do not see much hope for the kid..except that he will have to brave his life through poverty.. tears roll down your eyes as your heart sends a message to your mind..you feel your kid’s finger as you decide to donate a few clothes to charity the next day.. which language was that?????

If the heart has no language….. why do people fight over languages..lands.. race..culture…?

When the heart speaks to the brain, it talks the language of love.. then why do our eyes not speak the same language? why do we see black, white and brown… when all hearts see only a divine flame of light.. a light of hope.. a hope based on love

Looked at the land I was standing on

I looked at the land I am standing on.. and i knew that I love it.. this is not the land I was born on.. this is the land that made me what I am today.. this is the land that gave me so much of love…then i looked into the horizon..and realized that there is another land there.. the land that i was born in.. and thats in my heart too…my mom stays there..and that land is my motherland.. i love both the lands… lands that are so much apart..so much apart that people fight over lands..people lose life because of lands…people bathe in blood over land… the lands that are so much apart… separated by water in the oceans…oceans that are all joined..oceans that spread water all over..across lands..i do not know which ocean the water that keeps me alive came from.. i know that i am alive because of water..i know that i live and love other living beings because i am kept alive by this water.. water that is all in the same big ocean… oceans that meets all separate lands.. lands that we paint with our blood when we fight for it…

A small story for everyone

In a little country side, there was a little hut. When it rained, the rain water leaked in through the roof. Inside, there was a little broken bed.. a few utensils.. and a bag with clothes. This was the house of a poor man. He would make small toys from straw and sell them in the local market. Thats how he made some money… some money to feed his three boys. What you have seen so far is the poverty inside that little hut. But what I have not made obvious to you is something rich..something really really rich… five precious gems.. five precious hearts..the farmer, his wife and their three boys. If there is some thing they could share for ever and for ever, it was their love..their affection..their hope that some day they will have some money to cook a decent meal.. a decent meal that I know they will share with you even before they have their first tasty morsel of food. … This is a real small story, but did you see the big lesson….I never mentioned their names.. their race..their religion… their country..but did you feel like you loved them? If so, why dont we see the same precious hearts among people from different countries and religion.. why do we start tainting things white, black and brown…when we know that beyond the body..they are precious hearts.. living their life ..to make a decent meal and share the fruits of their labor..so make me a promise now.. when you see somebody next time, you will remember this story.. and you will not see the person.. you will see the heart!!!!