Purr-A-Dise

I was collecting flowers in the community garden that morning. Just then, I saw two white paws under the Bougainvillea bush, trying to catch my hands playfully. I recalled a similar flutter in my tummy! Oh, I know this feeling!

She walked out lazily, stretching with every step, and greeted my with a “ Meow”. That’s my favourite language, I admitted with a smile. She gave me a nudge with her small furry head and her purrs so loud, coordinated with my fast paced heartbeats. She reminds me of Rumi! The same thoughtful eyes, impish whiskers, soft muddy paws. Not too young, not too big. Just the right active size for a kitten. Oh, how this familiar feeling tugs at my heart strings!

Unlike Rumi, she has a few brown spots on her white and black fur. The kids in the community have named her “ Cookie” - the brown spots are for chocolate chips in the cookie! She follows me like she already knows me and my scent. This morning, she followed me home, sniffed the doormat and stretched to sleep on it, just like Rumi did. I don't have any cat food these days. I distributed it all two years ago at the street-cat Iftar party, I planned for them.

I don't have anything but affection to offer now...my heart overflows with love, when I pet her and stroke her chin. This is the unique kind of purest love that only pets seem to bring out from us! She gives me an instant purring feedback to reciprocate the feelings. She walks through my legs, nudging me with her head again, just like Rumi...

The doors to my heart were shut tight after Rumi wandered away. I convinced myself with the karmic contract reasoning, of a cat’s purpose in our life. But why does this kitten knock ever so softly on those doors...trying to open them and peep into my heart...

The two predators, Simba and Ginger from the neighbourhood are quite old now. Ginger is too lazy to move. Simba challenges himself with chasing this new kitty on the block. She swiftly climbs the trees and he cannot reach her. He is too chubby to climb trees. In short, she knows how to take care of herself. Everyone feeds her lovingly. She can easily survive in the community garden, hiding under the bushes and sleeping on the moist earth.

One afternoon, she followed my boys home after school, giving them that familiar loving feeling. She stretched out on the doormat and we could see the silhouette of her paws under the door. Rumi used to play with the doormat and pull it from outside. We used to notice the pulled mat and open the door for her. She used to have that mischievous glint in her eyes!

It feels like a gift, finding this lovable creature in the garden, by serendipity. Whenever I see her playing on the lawn, I am tempted to pick her up and take her home. But she belongs to the community garden. She is everyone’s pet. Let me not take that fragile route again. This time, I am keeping my mind detached, without any emotional investment or longing. I love her enough to let her be free. I don’t seek ownership.

This is how my spiritual journey looks like, somewhere midway, I’d like to believe. Those few minutes of soft purrs every morning are enough for me to get a glimpse of Paradise ... 

or should I say, Purr-A-Dise!

:: New Kitty on the block! ::

Familiar

I took my chance, two decades ago,
on a new T- shirt that seemed trendy.
It wasn't the perfect colour or fit,
but I loved how it made me feel…

With loose hems, timeworn,
over the years, like me, it looks old…
But it picks up the right threads to wrap me,
in the safest dream-filled slumber.

Doesn't matter, if tattered on the outside,
when the inside is soft enough.
As though tailor- made just for me,
with the coveted familiar touch.

Marriage after twenty years
means becoming that snug comfy Tee!
Through mountains, deserts and fields,
we watch each other grow…

#Twentyyears #twodecades

:: Be the Comfy Tee! :: 

:: See LOVE in everything! :: 

A Rural Life

Untie my wind-tangled curls

in the mountain's cold shower,
when silver-lined pebbles
leave a mossy kiss on my bare feet.

Discover unknown winding ways
through gurgling giggling waters,
on the gentle rhythmic strum of
swaying coconut palm-strings.

Coucal’s songs echo musically,
from the chest of the singing valley. 
Promise me a brown-winged glimpse
reserved only for the lucky gaze!

Over the emerald green pond,
catch a blurry blue flight of a kingfisher,

as rustling bamboos stand tall, 

like raised hair on a stony skin. 

An apprehensive dive
into the flowing river,
unable to grasp the current,
toes aflutter flap like wings...

As a dry leaf drifts
upon the rippled water sheet,
let my heart tune in
to hum at the same frequency...

Along the mangrove-fringed backwaters
Steer the boat calmly forward,
as eagles and black ducks fly low
to caress the ruffled wild waves.

An idyllic lighthouse gracefully poses,
upon the blue-grey muffled horizon,
watchful of the angry roaring sea
that bursts onto fish -flavoured coasts.

From the wise ocean to the knowing river,
the still lake to the restless stream,
memories freeze within raindrops,
then overflow from many -a kohl-lined eye.

A life less urban,
wrapped in the rustic rural,
with bitter sweet festive emotions,
I get to savour one year at a time!

:: Family gatherings with monsoon escapades in the Western Ghats in India this summer ::

#vagamon #indianmonsoon #rurallife #kerala #naturescapes