bed rest, ghost of pasts and a renewed passion

Sorry my Phantom Readers, for not being able to write so often. I have been rather unwell. My body has been feeling like a furnace coated with ice that never melts. And the thirst is so bad that I could gulp down the Ganges and still be thristy. But I am getting better, I am healing and realizing new layers inside me, within people around me and in this universe as well.

Two days ago, I woke up from my red sleep, burnt with amber of my feverish cells and I noticed that the first thought in my consciousness was, “ How will people remember me when I die?” Then I remembered for a few seconds feeling this immense fear. Once I remember not long ago, having said, “ I want to vanish into oblivion, I don’t want anyone to remember me.” But as soon as I had said it, I knew I was telling the biggest lie to myself.

What is the meaning of existing if the whole aim of my existence was to vanish into the darkness. I know scientifically thinking, at some point in time, somewhere in the future, things are going to change, humanity will change, there is a possibility that our solar system will be nothing but mere dark hole. Everything we have now, we aspire to be, millions of dreams and millions of existence would be just a vortex from where nothing would escape. No one will escape. So why this struggle, why this fear of the nothing?

Why do I want to; save money and travel the world, look into eyes of my lover (who I am sure is out there) and learn of freedom, look into eyes of children and learn of what love is, birth babies, bake cakes, conquer my fear of sky diving, ride the Royal Enfield from Kathmandu till Tibet and then some more… perhaps around the world.

Then I tell myself, look at yourself.. then again I tell myself, look out there.. so much to see, so much to learn.. This is a thirsty soul in search of knowledge, but I believe knowledge is like soft drink. Never quenches the real thirst.. you need water, pure H20 for that. And the water of life is ‘ being’.

Knowledge of freedom without living it  is nothing but a fallacy, knowledge of love, hate, ecstasy, rebellion, life, birth and death are the same. Shadows, which can somehow give you glimpses of the shapes but of not what the shapes, are of.

These thoughts have been loitering in the backstreets of my mind in silence; these strange thoughts which are so common and loiter inside each one of us but never knock on the door to make their presence felt. Sometimes, it takes few days in bed one moment clattering your jaws and next heating up like furnace, the thoughts of dying alone in a foreign land and not ever seeing your friends and family back home, never haveing that house in the hill, never falling in love again and never writing another set of words. It scares the shit out of the ever forgetting conscious mind and something from your subconscious jumps up and grabs your attention.

Then you write a letter to the man you loved most and tell him that you will always wish that all his dreams will fall on his lap like soft starlights and that he be happy where ever he is. ' Forgive and forget'. You let the ghosts of grudges cross the heavenly streams of forgiveness and never come back. You make a promise to be kinder, more generous to yoruself and letting your heart out of the shackles whatever the end result might be. Then you make an hour long journey across town in an overcrowded train, wondering at the beauty of life and universe that surrounds you and enroll yourself in that course you have wanted to enroll yourself ten years back!

Sometimes you need that prespective from the underside..

Much Love

- The Warrior Princess

The Pink Book Sale

We have a book sale here which is held every second Friday of the month in a shopping mall.  It is called ‘The Pink Book Sale’ and I try to attend it as much as I can, as early as possible. This is one place where I can spend money without a speck of guilt because the proceedings go to Breast cancer awareness and treatment for those who cannot afford.

I think book sales are amazing. It is like a treasure hunt. If you got sharp eyes and mind with quick hands and reflexes, you get away at the end with so many wonderful books that you consider the body ache and tired feet blissful. Not to mention the price, that is slashed to one tenth of the original prices, which makes the effort worthwhile. I got Hemingway, Coetzee, Gibran, Murakami McCourt and others in just under 90 bucks! Getting the Murakami was a bit of a tussle between the newly red haired me and the giant Irish redhead woman. It was like they show on tv shows. One book and two women fighting over it, a good humored fight though. They had a book of DH Lawrence but I am waiting for the price to go even more down (I know that no one will buy it for sure with the condition of the cover). Next sale will be the right time to snatch it.

Among those hundreds of book there was this one thin, sleek looking book in glamorous black shiny cover, standing out, calling my name. I thought it was some book on design and picked it up. When I saw the title, I had a big laugh. It was ‘Art of Seduction’ by some guy writer whose snapshot looked like that of someone caught in middle of swooning, frozen forever in that expression of 'come hither' look and an almost pout! Almost with a look of a desperation.

'Jesus, man with a pout!’was my first thought. But I bought it for the fun it and it was so cheap! Been through half of it already and it’s so informative! I never really imagined people had ways of thinking as mentioned in the book but when I come to think of my interaction with the opposite sex, everything matches! Well almost everything... Their blowing hot and cold, their acting mysterious, their giving out mixed signals... I was howling with aching belly and lungs with realization of all this little games! Now I have a tool to understand the male psychology! I am empowered! Hence, it proves again, ' Never judge a book by it's cover' or the snapshot of the writer on the cover..

There is also another reason for which I love book sales, leaving the prices and the rush of ‘treasure hunt’. Each book has two stories to tell: one that is written by the author and the other of the reader/ readers. The dog eared book that has been handed down and around families and friends, the books in almost perfect condition which was given as gift and you wonder why would you ever let it go. Personally I am someone who can keep even the wrappers of chocolates and presents. I am sentimental, emotional, very much.

I found a handmade greeting in one of the books. It is lovely, a family history.  The small piece of paper holds so much of a story in it. Though I myself do not write on my books, I love discovering messages, quotes and even the words underlined amongst the pages. It is always heart touching to come across small bits of personal history of unknown people accidently.

Don’t you think so?

- The Warrior Princess