A First: Audio Blog (Ramblings)

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The day to day...click here to hear me update you on stuff.

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The Thirsty Sparrow and what it Taught Me

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There is an image in my head. It's been quite a few days, but it has not faded. It was a fleeting thing. The type of thing nobody would give a second thought to. I also remember thinking it's funny how even mundane things can be a source of inspiration, but more on that later. There was a little sparrow, dipping its beak with rapid precision, smack right in the middle of the traffic junction, in a little puddle of murky water. It was oblivious to the moving seas of cars swishing past. The puddle was in the 'neutral zone' of the junction- right in the center where no cars could overlap. In all fairness, it is Karachi and the traffic can get out of hand at any given second, yet this bird knew only its thirst and probably noticed that this particular crevice was somehow, immune to any danger. As I looked on for a minute at its incessant task, I realized that this was such a fitting analogy of the life I currently live.
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What the Young Tree Whispered in my Ear

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I rested my head against the car window, adjusting my angle to avoid the sharp noon sun rays. They filtered through the thinning foliage of the young tree that caressed the car door. I looked up lazily. She was not a big thing, young - but not too young. She had not seen many winters I suppose, but enough at least, to give me respite against the glare of the sun, the kind of glare that looks specially sharper in the midst of winter. Until then, I had not noticed the tiny red flowers that were scattered scantily all over her branches. They danced in the soft breeze, carelessly, along with their green counterparts. The beauty of the scene mesmerized me, until nothing in my peripheral vision existed any longer. Suddenly, it was just her and me.
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November Blues

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With the cool breeze and not so humid days, also come the sniffles and the quiet. Quiet because the hum of fans no longer provides the din in the backdrop of our daily lives. Everything seems suddenly very loud and the walls seem to have more perkier ears than before.With the November temperature, the linens and wool escape the deep recesses of wardrobes. These are adorned with the most magnificent autumn colours; mature, deep and so present in the moment. But for me, November also marks an anniversary- the anniversary of my own escape from the recesses of doom. A full three years since I escaped the bonds of unholy matrimony. But just like the paradox that life is, my children are still lost in the winter bleakness. With a dash of light, comes a pinch of darkness- always.
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