Fables: Lost and Found

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I used to write fables. Not the Aesop kind, not at all. He has probably turned a few thousand times in his grave every time Ive referred to one of my flights of fancies in the creative, and occasionally dark moods that brought forth some intense feelings to this blog.

They were funny, sad, reminiscing, pensive, daring and full of chutzpah. I even had a separate space called Cesmots.com – meaning: These words. It was a beautiful home, full of pride and class. I took so much pride in it and the few readers who flocked, they did with loyalty. Each resonated with a different bunch, and it was a joy to see the connection.

Then life happened, and I had to shut it down, coz I wasn’t writing much and the site cost money.

I have most saved I think. One day they will find their way out and outside of this ether, and perhaps they will dance in black and white. Maybe they won’t. One can dream and work hard towards a goal, and all we can be sure is the sweat and the tears and the little victories, but the final goal is always intangible. Yes, of course there is faith, if not the way is painful and ridden with potholes. ..and despite the fact that most of us have varying degrees of masochism in us, most well meant paths are pleasant on hindsight.

Hindsight is 20/20 and every time we decide to quit or reach a dead end, all we have to do is look back and then on turning around, the way is cleared, just a bit more and so we skip on.

That said, despite being a busy day, I dug up the archives and remembered one particular one I had written way back in 2008.

A Suitable Moment. 

Any old timers around, who recognize this one? Most who commented on that piece are still around, in their personal orbs :)

Life suddenly feels like a fable.

It feels like fables must come back. They were a crutch back then, and maybe now, they would prop me up. The familiarity of one’s words and the comfort they offer.

***

One of the hardest things in life is to let go of what we thought was real.

All things heart of course, but in the head and in tangibles too.

It feels like homecoming though. I was meant to write those again. I can already feel my fingers itch with excitement. Joy.

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Black Clay from Nicaragua

This.

This is what I got, awkwardly and then with smug shyness as he hugged me back.

This is what my son got for us, with a mere $15 he had in his pocket on his trip to Nicaragua.IMG_3487

The earrings are made of natural black clay, he adds. Two days after he returns and then in his usual nonchalant manner has forgotten that this lay in his backpack.

I hug him tight, overwhelmed and happy with his gesture.

My boy was growing up. He always cared for his sisters, in ways that I wouldn’t think of. To see him think of us and me and bring us back a token of his solo trip out of the country without us, was a sign of the future. When he would go out into the world and experience things and people uniquely his own. To bring back a token of his experience and to remember us while he lives in his moment.

That’s how men are, aren’t they?

Not expressive as a rule, only to break with select ladies in their life, to extend a token on affection as they beam their love, wordlessly.

..and then one day the tokens will stop. All good things do stop, they evolve and they slow down and then they shift and there really isn’t anything one can do, but watch, and hold onto the memories and hope that they are strong enough to last through time.

Like the black clay earrings from Nicaragua.

task list

So I missed yesterday’s post as well. Sigh. That’s 3 posts missed in the NaBloPoMo. I feel terrible, but then I do not have the time to feel sad or sorry for myself or for the blog or for the initiative coz:

1. The reason behind doing the Post a day was to bring some order, discipline and get me to write again, freely and without strain. Think am almost there. Then again, its a continuous work in progress. I could lessen the frequency but the flow should remain if any kind of benefit must be attainable out off the last 2 weeks of writing.

2. I really am busy and have a few goals to achieve. More like mini-goals, and tasks and deadlines, so it isn’t like am goofing off, but am constantly putting out maintenance fires in between the real productive tasks.

3. Ive learnt that its okay to falter and its okay to not be perfect. Life is short and I need to let go.

4. I got a bajillion tasks that I need to complete soon, and I know this coz I discovered the Task bar in Gmail and the list is long. Not intimidating anymore, coz I fear no one or no entity, but it is long and they must be felled slowly and methodically.

5. I love making lists and writing numbered points. :-)

Oh btw, I have a new page – Tags –  – a collection of all that I patiently wrote. Was a nice memory trip yesterday as I re-listed them and read most of them and realized that despite whatever I thought, I really haven’t changed much. Just that the body and mind has gotten slightly more busier and occupied but that the heart really hasn’t changed.

That’s a good thing right?