It's my birthday today and it was a magical, surreal, beautiful, sad, and sweet day. Here are the things I am grateful for today:
1. Papa is well and he came over today. I spoke to him on the phone last night and did not hear from him this morning. So I thought that I would not meet him today. But he came. It's the sweetest face in the world.
2. V and An came with flowers. They are so gorgeous! I love them! They are on my study table and my desk looks like a fabulous, fabulous garden!
3. Papa brought me a plant with red red leaves! It gives the sort of vibes that it grew on the moons of Jupiter.
4. An also got me a stunning purse and a vanilla candle!
5. My leave for today had not been approved. So I started work slightly glum. It was nice to get wishes from a few colleagues but I wanted to sleep in, etc. But my boss approved my leave later so I had the rest of the day to myself. That was a yay moment.
6. An and I were having a coffee in the tony little bakery below my building. First a beggar lady came with a little girl, stood outside the door of the cafe and gestured for alms. I had already bought some stuff for my friend's daughters. And it's hard not to see them in another child. So I went out and gave her some money. The little girl was too cute. I stroked her tiny cheeks and she smiled.
An and I continued to talk. Then I saw another beggar lady approach this shop from across the road. She had no hands. Her feet were twisted. Her hip was broken so she walked lopsided. She was wearing a loose black kurta and black salwar. Her eyes were wide and shone with a dark storm. Her hair was dusty and matted. She pulled herself up the steps, used her stumps to open the door, and demand money. I was mesmerized. She stood there, inside the bakery and demanded money. The staff tried to ask her to leave but she didn't. Finally she left when she felt that WE were not worthy enough of her time. I wish I could have given her something. But I was rooted in awe. I didn't have change but the truth is...I didn't have courage. To face up to a force like that. After An left, I tried looking for her on the road but could not find her. Later, on the way to Matunga, I saw an old man who resembled her, also with no limbs. I gave him money, hoping it reached her. (I cannot get that woman out of my head. There was such truth about her. She had this aura that people in the bakery were afraid to touch her. It was fear. It wasn't the squeamishness of handling someone unwashed. It was fear. That even without hands, without physicality, etc. she could protect her boundaries better than any of us.
My father had once told me about an incident that occurred during the Bengal famine. People had started losing their lives on account of the food shortage. Of course the food shortage was only for the poor people. Meanwhile elaborate tea parties were being held in The Park hotel. People stormed to the gates of The Park but did not enter. Why? Because they were angry but still deeply conditioned to know their place. In the end, they all died. This woman at the bakery seemed like the kind of soul that was born to break that cycle. Truly. Salute.)
7. I woke up this morning with a plan to meet P in Matunga. But I was getting this odd heaviness in the heart area, strange closeness in the chest, etc. It happens when I eat too much or work out too little. And both of these conditions have been satisfied now. So I cancelled. Deep down I had wanted to meet P because she has such a fine, fine lens to view the world. And if one has to explore Mumbai, she's the person to go with. But as it turns out, she got free in the evening. Coincidentally she was in Matunga. So we had a scrumptious meal at Cafe Madras. I had pesaruttu and podi idli. P had paper dosa. We both had this lip-smacking ginger and lemon drink. Then I walked around for a bit and returned.
8. I was telling P that I feel a tiny sadness, like leaving one rented house to go to another one. It's like every age is like a rented space for your soul. You inhabit it and then on your birthday, your lease gets over. Then you move on to the next house. Who knows how the indoor plumbing will be? What will the neighborhood be like? But however it is, we must live there and call it home. P liked this analogy and told me to write it down. She sounded stern like a teacher giving me homework. But I did it, like a good student.
9. Ay had called and I also spoke to her two bright, precious daughters. They are so lovely! The elder one is so kind and thoughtful. We spoke at length on how I would take her around to different places if they all come to Mumbai. Gosh! I miss them and I hope I see them soon.
10. My aunt and cousin had called and I had a great time talking to them. My cousin and I were whingeing about how banks are making it increasingly difficult to withdraw money. He said that soon they would require a DNA test! That was funny!
One more year older. One more step closer to making eye-contact with eternity. Nothing to say other than thank you. For Life that gave much. For Death that stayed in the shadows for now.
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