Winter is Coming... with winter comes the long night especially in the north. Darkness, cold, oldness, shadows, illness and death. One never knows when that darkness will creep up on us. It's always there lurking, and sometimes the sunshine keeps it at bay, but even the sun can be dark. At times.
Recently, I witnessed the love of my life grow pale, and ill in the matter of minutes. He fell upon the floor retching, in pain. I was in a fright, my Ryan, helpless as much as I felt helpless. He recovered quickly a few hours and a day later. The darkness crept, but it was for someone else.
Monday afternoon, a day and a half later, my mother informed me via a text message that my great aunt (middle sister to my maternal grandmother) was in bad condition. I wrote about her in 2011, when I visited her during a business trip to Kolkata. What a woman she was before, how she suffered, and now she is gone. I should be happy she is free, but I mourn my own loss: who will cook for me? Who will make begun bhaja (fried eggplant) and roti (Indian bread) for me? Who will great me with excitement and a major hullabaloo?
I've never lost anyone so close, other than my doggies. Although she suffered seven years, this came as a shock. She was an amazing person, not a word of English but so warm at heart. She had no need or greed, but lived a simple satisfied life. People are what mattered. People and simple joys. Her cooking was exquisite, just like the rest on that side of the family. I can't imagine losing a sister. My sister spends time with my grandmom (dida) and she is shattered. Mejho Dida (my great aunt passed) proves that we are all we have... forget all the other useless material stuff on earth. We need to be good to each other, there for each other, we have time together and then we are gone. How will you spend your time? Are you grateful for the people in your life? The people who have touched your life? Say thanks now before they are gone. I wish I could have talked to her...
She was cremated last night, as the rains flooded the streets of Baranagar, Kolkata. It was a task, getting her to the crematorium, so I hear. For seven years she suffered, and now she was set free to peace, in the rains. Today it rains here so heavily. Does the earth reciprocate our tears? Wishful thinking, but rather blissful... the stormy sky looming, the thunder, the grey gloomy clouds blotching out the sun: it feeds this morose feeling. I add the Requiem Mass in D minor by W. Amadeus M. to breed the melancholy even further. To the tipping point, that I celebrate her life and death in the music, and weather nature has provided. I embrace it as a part of life. I relinquish my needs, my selfishness, and let go. I meditate upon it all: emotions, happenings, family, relationships, memories, illness, health, life and death.
Loss could happen, anytime to anyone anywhere. We can never protect ourselves from it. The impermanence of life: it is but as fleeting as a butterfly's beat of a wing. And we think they have short lives. Best we prepare ourselves earlier on, by remembering impermanence. Remembering to stay compassionate and loving, cherishing our bonds of attachments, that are impermanent, nevertheless remaining grateful.
The sweet baby birds do grow up to become cold blooded killers of innocent earth worms... then we reach the Sanctus: Benedictus and the Agnus Dei, and we see the glory, peace, mercy and acceptance. The sun peeps out. Life goes on. Learning to absorb, embrace and accept the macabre, the morbid aspects of life. The roses do wither and die. Breathe.
Sometimes, though, Breathing is just not enough.
So live!
and Breathe... mindfully so.
Recently, I witnessed the love of my life grow pale, and ill in the matter of minutes. He fell upon the floor retching, in pain. I was in a fright, my Ryan, helpless as much as I felt helpless. He recovered quickly a few hours and a day later. The darkness crept, but it was for someone else.
Monday afternoon, a day and a half later, my mother informed me via a text message that my great aunt (middle sister to my maternal grandmother) was in bad condition. I wrote about her in 2011, when I visited her during a business trip to Kolkata. What a woman she was before, how she suffered, and now she is gone. I should be happy she is free, but I mourn my own loss: who will cook for me? Who will make begun bhaja (fried eggplant) and roti (Indian bread) for me? Who will great me with excitement and a major hullabaloo?
I've never lost anyone so close, other than my doggies. Although she suffered seven years, this came as a shock. She was an amazing person, not a word of English but so warm at heart. She had no need or greed, but lived a simple satisfied life. People are what mattered. People and simple joys. Her cooking was exquisite, just like the rest on that side of the family. I can't imagine losing a sister. My sister spends time with my grandmom (dida) and she is shattered. Mejho Dida (my great aunt passed) proves that we are all we have... forget all the other useless material stuff on earth. We need to be good to each other, there for each other, we have time together and then we are gone. How will you spend your time? Are you grateful for the people in your life? The people who have touched your life? Say thanks now before they are gone. I wish I could have talked to her...
She was cremated last night, as the rains flooded the streets of Baranagar, Kolkata. It was a task, getting her to the crematorium, so I hear. For seven years she suffered, and now she was set free to peace, in the rains. Today it rains here so heavily. Does the earth reciprocate our tears? Wishful thinking, but rather blissful... the stormy sky looming, the thunder, the grey gloomy clouds blotching out the sun: it feeds this morose feeling. I add the Requiem Mass in D minor by W. Amadeus M. to breed the melancholy even further. To the tipping point, that I celebrate her life and death in the music, and weather nature has provided. I embrace it as a part of life. I relinquish my needs, my selfishness, and let go. I meditate upon it all: emotions, happenings, family, relationships, memories, illness, health, life and death.
Loss could happen, anytime to anyone anywhere. We can never protect ourselves from it. The impermanence of life: it is but as fleeting as a butterfly's beat of a wing. And we think they have short lives. Best we prepare ourselves earlier on, by remembering impermanence. Remembering to stay compassionate and loving, cherishing our bonds of attachments, that are impermanent, nevertheless remaining grateful.
The sweet baby birds do grow up to become cold blooded killers of innocent earth worms... then we reach the Sanctus: Benedictus and the Agnus Dei, and we see the glory, peace, mercy and acceptance. The sun peeps out. Life goes on. Learning to absorb, embrace and accept the macabre, the morbid aspects of life. The roses do wither and die. Breathe.
Sometimes, though, Breathing is just not enough.
So live!
and Breathe... mindfully so.
 |
| The storm approaches |
 |
| some enjoy the rain |
 |
| darkness falls |
 |
| storms even engulf royal palaces |
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| others are carried away by the rains... |
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