The river flows on and on....

I was watching this absolutely stunning shot of the Godavari river sandwiched between two shores in the telugu movie "Godavari". Lovely! Have you ever thought how the institution of marriage can be aptly related to the river flowing between two shores. The bride and the groom can be seen as each of the shores on either side of the river. Two individuals with their identities completely different as the shores on either side. Marriage can be seen as the river that binds them together, where the river represents the common tie that brings them together. The river bed - the only place where the shores meet- representing the common attributes and thoughts(compatibility) that brought them together in the shade called marriage flowing above them.

A bridge called friendship over the river facilitates communication and access between the worlds on either side of the shores. Thus friendship marks the beginning of the interactions between the two individuals, enabling them to share their worlds with each other, thereby bringing them closer. As the river flows, there might be some waterfalls and glitches along the way marked by the small hurdles in martial life. As time flies, the bond strengths between the shores and the terrain becomes smoother and the sand softer. Once the two individuals understand and accept each other and their worlds, the shores cease to exist and they become one soul, this sync been marked by mother nature when the river finally flows into the ocean where the two shores cease to exist. Nothing but nature's beautiful mystery unfolds in the depths of the ocean, as each partner discovers their true selves in the ocean called marriage, filled with wonders...

The secret of the threads that passed through...

I reached out to the box of threads and fished out the maroon color. Finally got down to stitching that tear i had put off for so long. I looked down at the piece of garment i was sewing, then at the box of threads...threads of all colours, each beautiful and special in its own way... Each thread used at a particular time for a particular requirement... Red never used in place of a green! Each unique in its own way. As i maneuvered the needle in and out, a strange correlation fleeted through my mind!

Have we ever thought about the fabric called life? A unique fabric, with a distinct pattern chalked out, specially for each one of us! A fabric each of us stitch one day at a time, its patterns predestined. Each one of us is the needle, guided by the hands of an unseen, unfathomable force! Each stitch made beautiful with the choice of thread used at that particular point...The memory is etched forever in the vibrant colors of the threads that render it truly unique! But what about the threads? Why do some colours make some places truly magnificent than others? Why, at some point, instead of using pink, red seems more suitable? Well, it all makes sense if you just understand what these threads are in your life...

Still not got it? I see these threads as all the relationships in life, all the people in our lives...Parents, siblings, friends, a colleague, a perfect stranger, a co-passenger...anyone...a thread that comes to us by divine intervention, to stitch that particular memory, a unique pattern of our life...

Some threads are hackneyed, like parents, siblings (mom is white, dad is black, sis is green and brother is red:)), they form a very important part of the main pattern of your life, used often. Some, like a friend is a rare color, that happens to be used at a particular pattern only, to render it life! A friend who came to your life for a season or a reason...Some friends stay to be used again, elsewhere, while some just pass away after a point...Some threads just mess up the patterns, as they were chosen unwisely, without thought, a few relationships that should never have been, for they were never meant to be. But with patience and hope they can be undone with the apt use of other threads, threads that will see you through that mess and fix it up.

The hand always chooses the right thread to be used for 'HE' can see the bigger picture and knows whats the right colour at that point. Sometimes, though the needle is given a choice to choose, for instance in the pattern of life where love needs to be etched out with a life partner, the hands often gives the needle the choice to pick the thread from an array of predestined ones! The remaining pattern unfolds based on the choice of thread chosen!

What is the colour of the thread in your needle right now? The thread in the needle now, is the most important one required to make this memory, the thread that will get you through this little juncture in life...Pause for a moment and just think about all those threads that have passed through the needle before...Each special, alluring in its own way. Did the hand pick out the right one for you until now? Sometimes it is only further down the fabric that one realizes the apt usage of a thread earlier...New threads, new colours are just waiting to be discovered along the journey. Keep your eyes open and always be willing to experiment with the new thread...maybe it will suit the design better than the old cliched one. The choice is yours, for always remember, if the hand picks a new thread, 'HE' does so with the bigger picture in mind...

Take a moment, ponder, which are the most important threads in your life? The colours that form the major chunk of your fabric, called life...

Magical relationship between the wind and greenry around...

Unquenchable Friendship

Oh what a reunion! when the mighty wind calls upon its beloved friends,
The trees, grass, flowers, sense, feel, hear his arrival by the distant sound,
Ebullient, they dance, wave, sway in glee, their fragrance, in love, they send,
Waiting to share in whispers, with their long-awaited friend, finally around!

Gently he strokes, as he walks around them, a touch with lots of care...
Oh my! where to begin, for so much to tell, express and share...
Alas, law of nature, the wind must go on, so little time amongst beloved, so unfair!
A whisper here, a gentle touch there, a song for a few, time flies, unaware...

As he departs, slowly moving on, his friends clamber together, in herds,
Clutching him, whispering, wailing, for a few words more towards him they bend...
But the wind moves on, leaving behind umpteen unsaid, unheard words,
A group of friends, awaiting his return, and at having met him, content.