क्या आपको पता है तुम कौन हो (Do You know who you are?)

Today the Siv got her licence! Wohoo...I'm so proud of you dearest sugar-rush-buddy. I'm grossly ashamed to admit that I forgot to wish her luck in the morning (though it's printed in big, bold letters on my desk calendar) - seems though, she totally did NOT need it...like with everything else she does: she aced it.

Another thing happened today, which is definitely worth mentioning on The Pinus: Uncle Jack came to visit! He's my fathers Uncle, and about 80 Years old. He walks with a stick, has a twinkle in his eye, and a raspy voice that can spin the most splendid stories! He told us of all the days long past, back when he was young and the world wasn't as complicated; back when 'family' wasn't just a term; he told us of our relative with 18 kids; made us laugh with stories of how he played matchmaker to Moonsamy and his brother - and the two sisters with the babies; he taught us some Tamil and spoke some Hindi and delighted us in his command of English; he painted pictures, beautiful pictures in the air, of memories we will never know, but will now always remember.

We don't appreciate the elders of our families as much as we should. We forget that they won't be around with us for very much longer. We don't take advantage of the vast vault of knowledge and wisdom stored inside them; or the priceless archives of history they carry in their hearts. 

Well you should! You should ask them to tell you about the days when they were young: about the things they did and the things they saw. You should ask them to tell you - because if we don't know where we come from, how can we know who we truly are, or appreciate where we go when we get there?  Ask, before it's too late. Ask and they will tell...oh, how they would love to tell!

Picture: Nehru Quote; snapped at the Nehru Planetarium when I visited India.

Summer has come and passed, the Innocent can never last...

I have discovered many things this month:

The Deaths of my Grandmother, and Uncle Eric Winkler (from up the road) taught me this.
1) We don't live forever.
2) Life is shorter than we think it.
3) The good always die first.
4) Death doesn't discriminate.

My three week stint, filling in for a teacher on holiday, taught me these:
5) I am capable of being the kind of teacher I used to hate.
6) Children are capable of far more than we give them credit for.

Cat In The Box taught me this one aka Oliver Twist - he was a kitten I found this week, who many forgot was a living, breathing, scared, cold and hungry little creature. He hissed at me and tried to scratch me when I was only trying to help him; they laughed at me for my perseverance. He taught me,
7) Infinite patience and genuine goodwill is eventually recognised.
8) Every life deserves a chance, no matter how small.

The last few weeks of this month taught me,
9) Who is really in my corner when I need them.
10) The guys in my life are mostly cowards - excepting my cousins.

Loss made me realise,
11) We all have a switch, that you can flip, to turn off your emotions.
12) Don't wait till you lose someone, to remember all the reasons why you want them around.

13) I will never eat something my Grandmother cooked again.
14) I will never get to come home and tell her about my day.
15) I will never again get to twirl around for her in my dress and heels and pretty jewellery before I go off to someone's wedding.
16) My Grandmother will never sit proudly at my graduation, or my wedding, and she won't get to see her great-great-grandchild one day - all of the things, I somehow took for granted she would be around to do.
17) I will never again sit and listen to her talk about all the years past.
18) I will never comb her hair for her. Ever again.

19) I am stronger than I knew I was capable of being.

20) The world around me is fragile - like a glass bauble - just one experience can fracture it, even a tiny crack leaves everything distorted and out of shape...but you learn to look around that fissure and see the world, if not as the same as it once was, with a closer understanding of what it really is.

A friend, named Mickey, and a KFC Brownie Avalanche made me smile because,
21) Comfort often comes from the most unlikely places.
22) Sometimes the people you expect the least to be there for you - will be.

D made me understand,
23) That sometimes silence is the best band aid to a fractured heart.

Visitors made me realise,
24) That the stupidest question someone can ask you when you've just lost someone you love, is "how are you?"
25) The easiest reply to that question, is "Fine," with a smile. Because it puts a full stop to any further questions that you have no inclination to answer.

Watching someone die made me realise,
26) No horror scene can ever be scary again.
27) For all our bluster and our confidence and our clever improvisations in helpless situations - there is nothing we can do in the face of Death.

April proved, 
28) That it is my least favourite month.
29) Life goes on, even in the face of death.

Oh Beautiful Life

I now know what it feels like to be sloshed about in a washing machine. I went to the beach today and got tossed about like a strip of seaweed. I loved every minute of it. There is something utterly humbling about the ocean. He reminds me that I'm just an insignificant speck in the great scheme of things, he reminds me of just how great God is.

I was with my little cousins, who both stood in awe of the tumbling walls of water, clutching onto my hands, shrieking in glee while simultaneously shying away from the salty onslaught. "Be afraid," I told them, "It's good to be afraid. The sea will swallow you up if you don't be afraid. But, don't you think it's lovely?" I honestly don't think they understood much of that - but I suppose my tone enlightened them, because I felt their hands tighten against mine, saw their shoulders relax, and watched the excitement dance across their faces. Pretty soon they were diving into the small waves and surfacing in coughs and splutters, with eyes screwed tight against the sting, reaching out blindly for my hands to anchor them against the forceful pull - and they always found them. How I loved to see their appreciation of my wonderful beach. I almost wanted to sing - but, we all know that would have been a terrible idea.

Soon, they grew tired and retired to the sand. And I found myself free to pursue one of my greatest pleasures. Wadding in deeper, against the incoming tide, my legs and arms grew weary keeping me upright. The waves were tall, the current strong, the salt stung my eyes and I couldn't stop the happiness creeping into my veins. I reached a spot, between the waves, the calm before they go from huge arches into crashing torrents that gain momentum till they reach the shoreline. And I waited. I didn't want the numerous waves buffering against my waist, pulling me towards the shore in a not-so-gentle tug. I just wanted one. One perfect wave.So I waited.

And when it came, I smiled. Oh it was beautiful. It was a crescendo of silence, speeding towards me at an uncomfortable speed. It wasn't so huge that I was terrified, but it was big enough to remind me to be afraid. "Are you ready?" it almost seemed to whisper. And then just before it crashed over me, I hurled myself right into it - it is a sensation like no other. I was enveloped in a cacophony of muted noise. My heart rate spiked, my body was thrown and twisted together, propelled through the water: a vast ocean, that seemed like a tiny box. Claustrophobic, I thought, this is what it feels like to be claustrophobic. Scream? No, don't be stupid. Don't open your mouth. Don't you dare. It was everywhere. I was everywhere all at once. Where was my hand? Where were my legs? Which way was the blue, blue sky? In that moment, where I didn't know where my world was, or where I was in relation to it; where I had no concept of space or gravity; where my senses were assaulted from every direction; where my breath was caught in my throat and my mind was frozen from the numbing realisation, that I was utterly trivial; in that moment where every part of me was a slave to the raw power of nature...I was Alive.