Amidst the clutter that surrounds the soul, it seemed almost like an omen when the first thing I read on Saturday morning was “to love is to create beauty”. And so, in this Christmas weekend of “contrived gaiety, artificial lights and noisy revelry”, I didn’t crowd Jesus out.
There was U, whose pain was mine when he cried. And whose happiness was mine when he laughed.
And Divya, tired and bruised, who appeared to have found peace at last in the little bundle beside her.
The somber sight of the blood filled tube in her leg caught as much attention as the comfort of the shoulder that D offered S.
Dai ja whispered to a heartbroken Pooja “hawa ka rukh beti, hawa ka rukh” and captured the games that the wily heart plays with the innocent soul. Viren’s eyes spoke the language of hidden love when he asked Pallavi “kya main aapko aapke naam se pukar sakta hoon?”
8 hours of conversation, of a connection unexpectedly discovered. Of uncovering N, of being uncovered. Not shying away.
An afternoon of Mmmmm….indulgence and secret pleasure and heartbreak.
2 cups of filter coffee, plastic chairs and D. No pretensions, direct talk
Yes, the gift came “wrapped in foils of hardship, pain, affliction and sometimes even disgrace”. But I opened it. And after many months, the heart was not lonely.
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