Category: Emotions
The Magic Of Gifts
This little girl didn’t know anything about Santa. She didn’t even know children could request him to bring exquisite presents of their choice. The magic of gifts or Christmas was never real for her…it existed only in the stories.
She could not visit a single day in her memory when she had received a gift. She lived in a small town, oblivious of any such festivities. The cocoon in which she existed was just wide enough to peep outside and see the commotion of people, wearing new dresses and going somewhere.
The magic of gifts:
Gifts can be so magical and so loving was revealed to her through a story, which she happened to read in one of her schoolbooks. For the first time she could experience the joy of receiving gifts just by reading that story.
She always wanted to know more…why gifts are given…how could she get one and when would she get it!
She could never get an answer for her questions, so she had become quieter but the stormy thoughts in her mind didn’t subside.
Till she saw Santa!
She couldn’t believe that he actually existed. She went closer to touch him and all her friends laughed. But she was now grown up enough to understand all!
Trust in this mystical figure can only be created at a very young age when children look up to their parents and believe all they say, when they learn to be good for the sake of Santa, when they can smile at the make believe world created for them, just for fun! She had missed that stage of her life.
How she yearned to grow up again, to be loved, to be heard, to be understood!
Not just for the gifts she had never received.
But to grow up with that magic, which is renewed each year, to wait for the gifts which were lovingly left under the tree, to look in awe at such a dazzling Christmas tree, to nurture the faith in Santa that comes naturally… to grow up with the feeling of belongingness…to fit into the multi-cultural society that looks down upon certain people.
The lessons:
As an adult, she refused to live according to the expectations of the society. She crawled out of that cocoon, which had made her reclusive. She chose her friends very carefully. She abandoned certain people she didn’t like.
She found great satisfaction in giving. All the gifts that she had not received were given. She started with her own children but her range was much wider than her surroundings.
Christmas was not the only time to create the magic of gifts. Now She knew how to create magical moments of fun… her efforts were just a grain of sand; a drop in the ocean but that thought didn’t deter her efforts.
The blessings:
The innumerable blessings that she continues to receive have steered her towards the path of humility, forgiveness and spirituality. She wonders how she gets the resilience and which force is guiding her trail. The travails of childhood have contributed to her growth in a huge way, she knows that. She doesn’t hold any grudges. She expresses gratitude to all those who neglected her and provided her with the invaluable lessons of care and affection.
These emotions have evolved with time and age. Forgiveness and gratitude were the most hard and arduous to cultivate. She spoke to her inner voice thousands of times; she calmed its shouts as many times and has succeeded in convincing herself that life is content and peaceful if we accept it as it comes.
Thank you for reading this. I am sure you have some thoughts to share. Please do so.
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Balroop Singh.
Why Death Anniversaries Are NOT Emotional Moments
This week I had shared my thoughts about the emotions attached with birthdays from the spectrum of a girl who yearned for care, affection and recognition in a society mired in biases. I appreciate all those who shared their insights and memories.
One of my friends, Hariod Brawn said: “…anniversaries of all kinds may evoke strong feelings within one. For myself, the strongest are those dates on which a loved one died.”
When I felt it was strange, he responded…
“Why do you find it strange that anniversaries of deaths are more emotional for me? I think that is a universal and quite natural state of affairs. Is it not?”
I don’t think so. It is not universal.
Death anniversaries could be emotional for those whose loved ones leave after fulfilling all their promises that they had made to themselves and their loved ones.
Death is beautiful only when you have lived your life. When it comes suddenly in the prime of youth, when it leaves behind unfulfilled hopes and desires, it is nerve shattering.
Such death anniversaries become traumatic, not emotional.
Because emotions lie scattered and shattered at such a time, the shards are too piercing, discordant and acrimonious.
Because you are too confused to gather the debris
Because the mourning is deafening, it seems futile, a façade and proves ineffectual
Because a lot of people try to confound you with words that seem hollow and simulated
None of those words soothe you
All that is more prominent and understandable is indignation and exasperation – extreme sense of revolt against destiny or God, whatever you believe in.
When your whole world falls apart, when you have to abdicate the little joys of childhood, when you have to fend for yourself, when your so called well-wishers wait for you to falter and condemn you for your immature acts…
It is at such times that death anniversaries become meaningless.
They bring along harrowing memories and festering wounds, which never heal.
When each day is spent in remembering those lost moments of unfulfilled yearnings,
When each day seems an uphill drive, with steering in the hands of an adolescent,
When faith lies prostrate at the alter of destiny
Such Death anniversaries are NOT emotional; they lose their sheen.
They are distressing; they only afflict pain.
All the positivity and spirituality fades in the face of hunger, which stares at you at such times.
Mourning continues till we meet our loved ones…in Heaven.
IN GRIEF
Their wailing grew louder
Onlookers stared, consoled
More mourners gathered.
Wailing became unbearable
It hit my heart.
Deep, down the chest
Some pressure, some unseen hand
Oppressed my breath.
Unspoken words, parched throat
Streaming tears
But no wails.
I could not wail. Must I?
Do I need to pretend?
Please! Will somebody understand?
Can you detach me from tradition?
Please leave me alone.
Let me feel that cold touch.
I am STILL in mourning.
This poem is an excerpt from my book ‘Sublime Shadows Of Life’ (available at Amazon.com) Here is the link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EBLWR0A
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Balroop Singh
Why Are Birthdays So Special And Emotionally Charged Moments
Every year there was a day when this girl waited for darkness to descend soon. She also waited for the house to be quiet and then she cried her heart out, silently, to her pillow. The sobs would not subside till she fell asleep.
She knew nobody is going to empathize with her tears, she knew nobody would even ask what was her problem. She had known that for eight years now and she didn’t expect any words of affection.
The sobs of this little girl would have never ceased if the Birthday fairy had not given her the assurances. She caressed her long, soft hair and sat beside her. She told her very softly that there would come a time when people around her would not forget her birthday. She assured her that this day was going to be the happiest day of her life only if she waits a few years.
This childhood fantasy gave great solace to her, assuaged her hurts and raised her hopes.
The first few lessons she learnt were that a girl can never claim to be equal… that birthdays are only for boys…that girls have no right to question certain norms of her society.
But she also learnt to think positive.
She kept her hopes and expectations to herself. She didn’t want to share them in the fear of getting disliked.
Conflicting emotions churned in her heart and mind, trying to balance out.
Seeing seemed more powerful at that impressionable age but she didn’t let those impressions entrench themselves in her. She took an inspiration from the subjugation and discrimination, which stared starkly at her face.
Her promises to herself kept getting firmer with each year. She learnt new lessons with each put down and her resilience grew to unimaginable heights. In fact it became an invincible part of her personality.
At least she had the freedom of thought, she told herself. At least she had the capabilities to distinguish between virtues and vices. At least she had the opportunities of learning, which many around her were deprived of.
All who live in neglect are not that strong, they have the tendency to drift into negative crevices. They learn to accept all the atrocities calmly.
All are not so positive and imaginative to have met the birthday fairies!
For her, birthday was just another day till she met her soul mate.
Were childhood dreams true or was this just another phase of life? – this question often reverberated around her.
Yes, a day did come when there was no dearth of flowers, cards and wishes around her on her birthday.
It followed year after year. Her husband made this day special for her in all the loving ways. Her friends, her students and her children added brilliance with their smiles and wishes.
Birthday was not just another day now. It ushered in new delight, even the sunshine seemed to be special!
All this could be possible just because she met an open minded man who let her flower into a luminous personality, who didn’t impose his views on her, who didn’t consider her to be another woman of his era but respected her.
Celebrating birthday of all the children of the house is essential as:
- It gives them pleasant memories,
- Makes them sensitive
- They learn the values of togetherness and love
- They grow up into cheerful and confident individuals,
- Happiness of those little moments, which make them the center of attraction, is a learning experience for them,
- Highlights the importance of self-love
We all cherish childhood memories; clutch them all the more as we grow up; they conjure up those moments of delight when we look at a familiar spot or a child we love… and the childhood yearnings return.
Birthdays are those landmarks, which evoke such memories. Some special emotions are attached to them…love, gratitude, respect, admiration, pride and honor are imbibed effortlessly.
Do you have any such memories, which are difficult to share?
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Balroop Singh.
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Walls Do Respond To Emotional Attachments – Home Is Where The Heart Is!
It is quite natural to get attached to homes if we have invested our hearts into them. Even the walls of such homes become receptive.
Recently I happened to read an article, which stirred my emotions intensely and took me down the memory lane.
My dear friend Lisa Thomson says, “A house has no feelings or attachments. It doesn’t love us back. Walls really don’t talk, and that’s probably a good thing.”
We convert a house into a home when we get emotionally attached to it.
HOME THAT NURTURED ME:
The home in which I grew up is still very much a part of my ardent memories as this was the place that nurtured me from the age that was most impressionable.
The excitement of an eight-year-old child is still very fresh in my mind. I can smell the fragrance of new paint and wood even now. Whenever I go down the memory lane, I can experience the friendship of all the nooks and crannies that I explored the very first day I stepped into this house our father got designed for us.
This house cherished my dreams, cushioned my lonely moments, provided solace to my disappointments, gave shape to my adventures and inspired me to aspire high.
Every wall was a supporting shelter, how much I could share my thoughts with them, silently!
The walls of my room empathized with me when I didn’t sleep well due to examination fever. They rejoiced with me when I turned up the volume of my radio, to celebrate my little moments of joy. They resounded with my giggles in the afternoons.
As I grew up, every brick seemed so precious, every tree of the little garden I loved seemed to cherish my thoughts and provide solace to my distressing hours.
Then came the time to leave my treasured surroundings, my home.
I can still feel the tears of poignant parting on my cheeks.
I hate this age-old tradition of some countries – to leave your maternal home after marriage. The one who created this tradition must be a man for according to this orthodox convention, he doesn’t leave his home; he has the choice to continue living in it or sell it.
I thought I would keep coming back to my home whenever I wanted and I did during the initial years of setting up my new home.
It remains the epicenter of my dreams even now. All family get-togethers are hosted in this home even now… but in dreams.
I can no longer visit it in real life because it was sold…and that is another story!
HOME THAT DEFINED ME:
Despite all those attachments I had with that home, which remains the backdrop of all my dreams, I was pleased to find a new one that anchored me and promised myself to make it more loving than the one that had raised me.
A home cannot be built in a day…it encompasses in itself the dreams and the aspirations we hold close to our heart, the hopes that we gather with each passing day, the goals that we achieve together.
A home lounges on the care and affection we shower on each other, the time we offer to understand the needs and desires of a family, to live through the difficult times together and to support each other despite minor differences.
This home I acquired became my treasure house, a nest, which was filled with the babble of my little children and the love of my hubby. It accumulated and absorbed all the memories, all the celebrations and the moments of intense joy, of raising my kids and exult at their little achievements.
I have no doubt that even the walls around me shared my elation.
Time just whizzed by and before I could realize its pace, my kids grew up into fine individuals, ready to soar!
Now I could grasp the truth of this statement and what my friend Lisa has articulated: “Home is people. Not a place. If you go back there after the people are gone, then all you can see is what is not there any more.” – Robin Hobb
THE VOID:
Though my work kept me very busy and the walls of my home as welcoming as ever but time stood still.
A part of me seemed to have walked away with my grown up children.
Now I just clung to my home and the loving memories that were attached to them. I tried to make it warmer with more pictures of my family.
I have been trying to understand the ironies of this life, which provides natural attachments.
I have been trying to detach from all those people and homes, which hold us to ransom, extracting all our emotions.
I have moved once again from my home, into which I had put my heart and soul to be near my children.
Now I have double memories and none of my dearest homes – one got sold and the second lies locked with all those treasures I had amassed!
Do you have any such memories and attachments? Do they haunt you?
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Balroop Singh.
Image credit: http://society6.com
Emotional Shadows 