Living the Change

Posted in response to Friday Writings #241: Change

Epigraph

Perhaps the deeper part of living an authentic life is accepting its inherent brokenness. We are constantly told that, given enough time, all pain will heal, and that we should emerge from suffering stronger and better than before. But some pains do not heal—and they do not have to. Grief, betrayal, shame and profound loss may remain permanently etched within us. Acceptance is not resignation; it is learning to live with what cannot be changed, and finding the courage to build a life around it rather than against it. Perhaps that is what it means to thrive: not returning to who we once were, but becoming fully, unmistakably our own.

Living the Change

Some pains may never heal, and that's alright;
losses that leave a silence, we must let them stay.
Grief, shame, the sting of betrayal from the past
may make a home just below the surface.

We love to believe that time will erase each scar,
that healing will return us to who we once were;
every wound must somehow make us stronger,
suffering must teach us how to live better.

We need not aim to erase what once broke,
nor make every wound a source of strength;
for acceptance of scars and grief is not giving up—
it is learning to live with what cannot change.

Keep the Window Open

 

Keep the Window Open

Despair may sneak in with a setback or bad news,
but delight always finds its way in through the smallest openings.
All that is required is acceptance.

Despair does not always knock.

Sometimes it slips in quietly,
holding hands with a setback,
and takes over my world.

It tells me to close the curtains,
to count what is missing in life,
under the pretence that it is wisdom.

But I keep the window open.

For delight to find its way in—
with the scent of fresh bread,
on a raindrop kissing thirsty earth.

In a child's carefree laughter,
or in an old photograph,
bringing back fond memories.

Delight does not ask.

If the sadness has left,
it finds the smallest opening
and slips through.

Despair may be all-dominating,
but delight is soft and sweet,
asking me to give it a chance

by keeping my window open.

A Bottle of Happiness

 writing in response to Friday Writings #239: Down to the Bone

Epigraph

When joy fills our hearts, we long to share it with others. Yet happiness, too, should unite people, not become a cause of division.

Sometimes I feel happy,
So happy that I want to share it
With someone unknown,
Someone very far away,
On the other side of the sea.

I wish I could gather that feeling,
Place it inside a bottle,
Seal it carefully,
Whisper a message of hope,
Before casting it into the sea.

Perhaps one day
It will wash upon a distant shore,
Into the hands of a stranger—
A princess or a pauper—
Who needs it more than I do.

They may uncork it with a smile,
Listen to my whisper,
Or simply feel an unexpected warmth,
And, for no reason they can name,
Be happier than I felt.


Then I wonder...
A strange thought, isn't it?
The happiness we long to share
May become the very thing
People quarrel over-
A bone of contention.

A Breakfast I Couldn't Resist

 

There are some temptations that are simply too delicious to ignore.

As I waited for my flight out of Kolkata, I spotted one of my favourite breakfast combinations on the menu— puri, bhaji and chana. Deep-fried? Absolutely. Spicy? Just the way I like it. Healthy? Let's not go there.

Needless to say, I ordered it without a second thought.

Fortunately, I remembered to take a picture before it disappeared from the plate.

Friday Metro Moments

 

Two quiet moments from last Friday—one inside the train and another at Dr. Sulaiman Habib Metro Station. Sometimes the journey itself is worth remembering.