Something to come home to
I had a little bit of a health scare some time ago. That has led to some thinking - some deep thinking, really, on what is important and why, etc. Perhaps it's the usual kitty that one rummages through at the prospect of sudden illness or death. Not that I am dying (eventually I will, of course, but not right away), but unsuspecting health issues cause one to stop and smell the roses. Or at least pick out whichever flowers one wants for the funeral. (I'm thinking something bright yellow and soft pink - like a baby's smile and fingers and toes.)
Long time ago, I read a study that indicated that the term 'heartbreak' was more literal than figurative. If one has not dealt with 'blows' well enough, apparently, the pain weakens the arterial walls or something. Those walls, in time, crumble. Now, I am not sure about the heartbreak, but I've started feeling a sharp sense of loss when Ma leaves my house to return to Mumbai.
She was here with me for a few days after her birthday and it was a lot of fun. It was also difficult because, well, we aren't all that democratic in our thinking. But I can't quite explain it - its like the sunlight streaming into the house is more pure. The mirrors smile and a pale, yellow apple may even take on the blush of a sweet, healthy fruit.
She's left now. The house isn't exactly withering or wilting. However, it does seem that spring has passed on and all one can do is wait for the season to return.
In the absence of having mum in the house, there really isn't too much to do. At least, nothing I'm getting a whole lot of joy from. Until...
...until I came across this book, "My Diamond Days with Osho" by Ma Prem Shunyo. This book belonged to my husband and I'd seen it in Delhi. It struck me as odd because he'd proposed to me when I was in Pune. So the Osho connection was quite a cheeky coincidence. However, I hadn't read it then. Now, I don't know how I found it with me back in Pune. (It may have been part of the stuff I brought back when we separated but I'm not so sure.) This time round in Pune, though, I'm reading it and it's great!
So far, I've read only a few pages but I can't wait to get back home, finish up with dinner, and settle down to peel back the pages.
A good book is a great way to spend time until spring comes again.
Long time ago, I read a study that indicated that the term 'heartbreak' was more literal than figurative. If one has not dealt with 'blows' well enough, apparently, the pain weakens the arterial walls or something. Those walls, in time, crumble. Now, I am not sure about the heartbreak, but I've started feeling a sharp sense of loss when Ma leaves my house to return to Mumbai.
She was here with me for a few days after her birthday and it was a lot of fun. It was also difficult because, well, we aren't all that democratic in our thinking. But I can't quite explain it - its like the sunlight streaming into the house is more pure. The mirrors smile and a pale, yellow apple may even take on the blush of a sweet, healthy fruit.
She's left now. The house isn't exactly withering or wilting. However, it does seem that spring has passed on and all one can do is wait for the season to return.
In the absence of having mum in the house, there really isn't too much to do. At least, nothing I'm getting a whole lot of joy from. Until...
...until I came across this book, "My Diamond Days with Osho" by Ma Prem Shunyo. This book belonged to my husband and I'd seen it in Delhi. It struck me as odd because he'd proposed to me when I was in Pune. So the Osho connection was quite a cheeky coincidence. However, I hadn't read it then. Now, I don't know how I found it with me back in Pune. (It may have been part of the stuff I brought back when we separated but I'm not so sure.) This time round in Pune, though, I'm reading it and it's great!
So far, I've read only a few pages but I can't wait to get back home, finish up with dinner, and settle down to peel back the pages.
A good book is a great way to spend time until spring comes again.
Comments