Child She He

The child had to be admitted to school. The school that everyone went to. Home schooling was definitely an option. But, they had decided to give it one try before considering schooling the child themselves. So, it was settled between them all to brave the outside world. Finally, it was time to widen the circle. To see, if they could let the others in. 

They had fallen in love with each other, intensely, passionately, their souls instantly fusing to shut out the world. None existed around them. He changed his name to Mr.She and she became Mrs.He. Their identities merged. The world laughed at him, for has any man given up his identity for a woman or borne her name and survived?  He shrugged and grinned. He had no loss of identity by becoming Mr.She. He was proud to bear the tag as her partner, as the lover of her body and free spirit. To take on her identity was an honour. She wore the tag of Mrs.He with equal pride, flaunting it with a brazenness that was terrifying intense to others who wore theirs as matter of social security. 

And, yet they were not married. Technically, at least by the world’s standards. He saw the fire in her eyes, and she saw the answering spark in his and there it was, a marriage by fire. Sacred was their union and unwavering was their love. Their identities had fused to the point that they needed no social sanction. To the world they were sinners, but they cared not for the world nor its values. They only knew this. The world was an outsider to their sacred union. Letting in the world and its opinions, morals and its structures was a sin, like their intimacy was put out on trial for the titillation of the public. The only religion they practised was love. In all forms, physical, mental and spiritual. They flowed into their silences as they flowed into their conversations, picking up silences that they left off midway or conversations they closed years later. The presence of the others into something as sacred as intimacy was almost blasphemous to them. The only third that they welcomed was the child, born out of their beautiful union and passion. A sacred reminder of their fusion. They gave it a name Child She He.  

The child grew in love, fostered in silence and harmonious conversations, in wonder and awe of love and all things natural and profound. They studied nature together and their spirits often spoke in harmony and yet not a word was spoken in the teaching. 

The boy stepped into the class. His carriage was proud. He looked different from the others. Talked and walked differently. He spoke words in the language they all understood and yet he spoke them differently. Slowly, deeply. As if, he meant every word. They seemed to come from some source deep within him. He spelt his name clearly. Child She He. They all tittered. Who is She that you bear her name? All our names just have Name He. The one from whose womb I came, he said proudly. I am product of the love of two people She and He. I shall bear her name first before his with pride, as she bore me with pride, he said. They fell silent, confused and unable to answer him. 

He looked around. The girl across the room caught his eye. His eyes sparked. He smiled. There was an answering spark in her eyes. It was like there were no one else in the class room. 

- Srividya Srinivasan

Desire

'The body and skin respond to the human touch in ways that the mind can scarce discern. But the mind is very involved, an eager participant and creator of desire. The body responds of its own accord pulsing, throbbing, craving fulfilment indifferent to the label one would fix to a partner, while the mind rejoices in feeding it with secret pictures. Be not fooled that the rock bed of a steady marriage lies in the fatherly touch from an elderly husband or the icy indifference or passive submissiveness of an indifferent wife and that fidelity lies in the mindless repetitions of a cold act of the parting of legs, or the panting of breaths. You need to be comfortable in your skin to be a lover. You cannot create desire. You feel desire. It needs a special eye and touch to be a lover, to be lovers, a certain coming together of mind and body where the repetition is desired. A familiar coming home to, where the uncertainty of the exact moment of outpouring lends it spontaneity. Familiar lovers lead exciting lives because they come together in desire irrespective of who has initiated it and when. The unexpected is often the magic.'  - An excerpt from '6 Tits; by Srividya Srinivasan

Two Selves have I

I am alone.
Alive in my aloneness.
Dead to the world. 
Genderless.
Stripped of my femininity
for eternity.

My desires stifled.
My realness guarded,
sacred to my aloneness.

The mask fits better.
The mask i put on.
The mask the world wants.
The mask of adaptability. 

The surreal day beckons.
The dawn of automation.
Of roles to be played.
Things to be done.
People to be met.
Battles to be fought.
Issues to be handled.
Anger to be faked.
Passion to be feigned.

Two selves have I.
One for the world,
One for my aloneness.
Earlier I had just one.
Soon, I will have none.
As the mask fuses
into my defeated self
until the real and the
fake are one.

- Srividya Srinivasan - 25/10/2014 

"Our very thoughts are our prayers at the altar of our own selves, Our unmasked naked, uncensored love for life - our divine offerings to our own highest selves, and the deep rush of thankfulness in being the exact person we are lucky to be - the blessing that we crave to receive." - Srividya Srinivasan

The delicate art of loving ..

You cannot create love out of nowhere nor can you work at it. Love is a spontaneous recognition of oneself in another, and celebrating what one aspires to be in another. Love is an act of loving the best part of what one is and what one wants to be. It is a joyous abandonment of boundaries, an acknowledgment of one's strengths and weaknesses and an utter relaxing in one's skin.

People talk about compromise and adjustments in love and working at love. Real love being spontaneous and true would automatically bend to the truth in the other. Real love operates with grace, humility and an easy passage for what is right and what elevates the common created oneship. It is actually between people where there is no love, no possibility for a spark and the only link being a everyday wading through existential transactions that demands compromise and adjustments. One needs a daily reminder and affirmation of the link because what holds the two people is a functional practicality or fear of social ostracization. It is not strength that holds such people together but their vulnerabilities.

But nurturing, strangely is a part of real love too. Reminders play a different role here. The reminder and the nurturing is not to keep the pale shell of the initial spark or intimacy alive through empty acts of gifts and anniversaries but to actually become the person who initially enjoyed that spontaneous recognition in the other. When two people recognise what they initially liked in each other, they keep coming back to that point of joyous reunion. Countless times will they lose their way but countless times will they joyously come back to a reunion. Countless times will their love be born and in each birth they recognise the strength of the togetherness and through this parting and meeting, will they realise that their beauty is best expressed in the union. Loving and nurturing the union becomes the most precious act of acknowledging life and love. So they will live, and so they will love...

- An excerpt from 'the book THE SPECIAL THEORY OF RELATING ' - By Srividya Srinivasan

The Story of happily every after ...

Today's question: What is it to relate emotionally ? If there is no emotion attached are we still
feeling ? If we do not feel then does the aspect exist or does it cease to ? Is death a lack of feeling ? What do we mean when we say relate? What triggers relating ? What causes it to disappear ?

The Story of happily every after ...

When we relate to someone, we relate to an interesting, real and aspirational us that we become with relation to them. When we feel good with someone, it is not only because we like what they are when we are with them, we like what we become in their presence. It is the latter that motivates us to meet them, talk to them, desire to spend time with them and stay in love with them. A drop in their excitement, enthusiasm in being with us is handled by us either as a personal failure of our own attractiveness or as a drop in theirs. We desire people who make us continue to feel desirable.

When the perceived importance of the feeling within one that made one relate to something or someone reduces or disappears then the relating reduces or disappears. If what you felt or perceived as a new exciting you when you encountered a new idea or person is not lasting and your regular old personality comes back, you lose faith in the excitement or the fresh feeling and revert to the old you. After a while, even the memory of the excitement seems fainter and fainter until you are not sure it even existed.

When we fight with someone especially in a relationship, it is either a fight about recapturing that emotion or a denial that the emotion even existed in the first place. Most women since they have long term memories believe and can remember the emotion and excitement and hence put their faith and hope on recapturing it with the man. For the man, the memory is so faint that he does not recollect it or does not believe that it can happen again. The man fights to establish the fact that excitement and euphoria is short lived. He either continuously seeks it again and again through various means or various people. The woman tries to recapture it with the same person again and again. And, that is why when she takes a step forward or tries to remind him of who he was when they met or who they were at the start the man seriously does not relate to the person he was then nor the emotion that held him in thrall. The woman wants a replay of what was strong and beautiful and binding between them a million times over. When a woman asks a man if he still loves her, she means do you still love me the way i thought you did when we first met. Do you mean it with the same intensity and am i still the most important thing to you still in the same way?

The man is forced to go through the motions pretending the memory and emotion or he rejects it outright. He has no recollection of having been captivated by this woman and instead grows stubborn in his refusal of the memory. He grows colder and colder while she tries to come closer and closer. He cannot for the life of him figure out why he was chasing her in the first place or what he found attractive. She was attractive when they met because she was not committed to him in particular and was hence a conquest to be won. He becomes interesting to his own mind as a conqueror and a talker and is a new person within himself and unfamiliar at that and hence a man in love becomes confident, vulnerable, real and exciting in his own eyes. The woman enjoys becoming a target of this excitement and in turn becomes sexy, desired, pampered, adored and interesting.

Post the chase, the man loses memory of the game and gets busy with practical aspects and the woman is left with an empty promise of a lifetime game of adoration and excitement that she fails to get. The more it is denied to her, the more empty she gets and more clingy and emotional. The more emotional, clingy and demanding she gets the more he grows distant and impatient and uncaring. She wants to get to a point where they were wonderful together. She is keen to start from there again. During an argument she would keep coming back to that. The man is rooted in the present. He sees a clingy, emotional, crying woman and he for the life of him cannot relate to her. All he wants is to run. The man gets impatient, angry and pinned down when accused of having changed in his affection or expression. He will fight tooth and nail to deny it but the excitement she craves and the importance in his eyes that she desires will be denied to her. And, this is the eternal battle of the sexes. Beneath this battles lies all the innumerable accusations that each gender throws at the other. 

So, how does that explain the happy, devoted couples that seem so much in love for long ? If you look around the percentage of genuinely happy couples are relatively lesser. They are the ones who connected through a real not necessarily ideal connect - the image that the man put out was closer to his real nature and the connect he felt with the woman was closer to the real woman. Also, subconsciously they get into the rhythm of feeding each other the image that initially excited them. It is a life long feeding of the same and becomes a habit and a way of life and at some point their joint personality. It is nurturing of a  self image and nurturing of a reflection of the self with relation to the other. Additionally, society views them as an ideal couple and this positive image feeds them into greater success as a couple So, they tend to grow together as a couple. 

So can any man and woman become a couple ? Yes. And, it lies with the man.If he could relate to the fact that for her the relating means starting from the point when they met and nurturing that connect. When we mean starting, we mean an emotional starting. And, it lies with the woman, in trying to work out newer connects and points to relate from so the man is not left challenged with trying to continuously live up to the initial promise . As a couple, both have to create fresh situations of I love you. It should not be a case of when we met and then ever after...

- An excerpt from 'the book  THE SPECIAL THEORY OF RELATING ' - By Srividya Srinivasan

100 years from now ...

100 years from now, we would be a memory. A face in some forgotten lost picture. A scribble in some notebook somewhere. Some megabytes of data and some pixels in some obsolete digital memory. Who would know how you loved ? That you danced or you cried ? That you ran a start up or ran a marathon ? Who would know if you enjoyed your coffee or drank wine under the stars? Who would care if you made love or died a virgin? Whether you spoke Chinese or English, Hindi or Persian ? Ten years ago who were you ? Who were the people in your life ? Who is beside you now? Who will be with you ten years from now ? Will you even be or would you have become fresh memory? Yes, pack that ego carefully. It is fragile. It may not need to last 100 years but it needs to survive with you today.~ Srividya Srinivasan

Elusive Darkness ...

Death and Darkness are just hiding, pretending that they do not exist. Hiding just behind the bright lights, the facebook friends and the birthday wishes. As soon as the laughter is stifled and the candles snuffed out, they will come out and seize and snuffle the brightness of life and claim their victory. It is just a switch and we do not have the control.

- Srividya Srinivasan

Is Shakti Shiva or is Shiva Shakti ?

May every man find the softest and most fragile expression of his personality with the right woman who would treasure and honour the beauty of his femininity and not misuse it and may all women find empowering and supportive men who would exult in her self expression and success without fear of being overshadowed by the power of her masculinity and in that beautiful new world, shall we enter as partners, equal and empowering, supporting and caring, vulnerable and strong. Happy Valentine's day !

 - Srividya Srinivasan

Nirbhaya

She smiled at him
as she put her thumb up.
The bus stopped.
Laughing they got on.
Their smiles froze
as the curtains closed.
She is ripe
Let's have some fun,
The 6 pairs of eyes said.
12 hands reached out
to grope her.
To feel her.
To touch her.
To rape her.
6 monsters laughed
as the man tried,
cried to stop.
Hit him with a rod
they did,
as each took turns
with her instead.
Stop she cried
as they laughed
until they cried
and groped some more.
Laughing and joking
they put the rod in
deep, deep within her.
Bleeding and crying
they pleaded,
as six mouths
laughed their gut out
to see her gut spilling out.
Naked and bleeding
they threw them out.
Laughing and grinning
they moved on.
Naked and bleeding they lay there
as hundreds of eyes dodged them,
until pleading and bleeding
they were saved
to be probed and to be groped
again.
Describe to me what happened
they asked.
Your body is the site of crime
and i need to check they said.
You should have begged and pleaded they said
You should not have gone out they said
You should not worn this dress they said
You should not have studied they said
You should not have crossed the line they said
Why do you need to live they said.
Live I will she said .
Dream I will she said .
Fight I will she said.
Until I am dead, she said.
Go not unto the night they said
or you will end up like her they said.
Dead they said.
The city is aflame they said.
And the country stands by her instead.
As fools rant, and the monsters laugh
the torch is lit they said.
The fear is fading they said.
Your death shall not be in vain they said.

She smiled at him as she put her thumb up.
The bus stopped.
Laughing they got on.
Fear not
Six pairs of eyes said.
Safe, you are they said.
Thank you they said
when they got off the bus.
She smiled at them
as she put her thumb up.

- Srividya Srinivasan

An identity crisis.

In isolation, the single drop of water should comprehend its identity before it can merge itself into the wave and the vast ocean.

Srividya Srinivasan

Suck it up ...

You can't become a martyr by bearing the cross of your own choices in life.

               - Srividya Srinivasan

If the present is a blank ...

If the past has lost its hold..
And you have a blank present...
does it mean there is no future ?
Or does it mean you
can create any future you want ?

            ~ Srividya Srinivasan

It takes two to break a pattern or does it ?

What i am within myself when i am with you and what you are when you are with me is what we bring out in each other. it is not the only persons we have within ourselves or the persons we can be but it is what we will be with regard to each other. No effort on either side can change that. It is a prototype that is set when we first meet each other and the pattern is repeated each time. Only a fresh perspective and time would make any difference. When in the future, we get an understanding of who we both were at that point in time, we perceive what other persons we could have been.

                 ~ Srividya Srinivasan

Square Pegs. Round Holes.

A square peg can fit
only so much
into a round hole.

Badly. Awkwardly
and with a lot of
effort.
And would still
not fit perfectly.

Square pegs are
rarer than round holes.
They stick out and
Spoil the harmony.

Getting angry with the
square peg for being so
and not fitting into
round holes is no use.
The square peg can only try.
It can even pretend to be a
round peg.
But at one glance you would
know it is not.

Yes. You could search for
square holes for the
square pegs.
That is going to take awhile
and maybe
you would find
one that fits
or maybe never.

Most square pegs are
chopped away and
chipped away to
make them as
round pegs.

And then the square peg
is square no more.

- Srividya Srinivasan

Someone ... Somewhere

Some one. Some where.
Is holding out for truth.
For love.
For beliefs.
Some one some where
 is doing that
while you have sold your soul
in your utter fatigue
from life's battering.

Some one. Some where.
On this tiny planet.

And you weep alone
because it is not you.
And you rejoice too
because some one
some where
is holding out to truth.
For love...

- Srividya Srinivasan

Marriaging the brand ...

All relationships in the world are transactional.

We trade financial, emotional, physical and psychological aspects with one another irrespective of the relationship we profess. Whenever we give, we expect back and not necessarily in the same format in return but mostly from the same person.

All intimate associations are about the power of co-branding to create a new power brand. You are a brand - whether you are a small one, powerful one,a  failed one, boring one or a fascinating one. And, we all seek or form associations or rather should seek partnerships where the power of our individual brand gains strength. The self image that we have of ourselves should be enhanced in the presence of the other.This is a large psychological impression of gain and worth that is impossible to articulate completely in tangible terms. It is not based on the wealth, position or power alone that the other might bring into the association but more often the feeling of enhanced power in one's own brand because of the entry and presence of the other that makes the difference. It is not so much about what the other does, or what one does but this feeling of increased self brand gain that marks a powerful and strong relationship. When two people meet on such terms, their individual feeling of self worth increases because of presence of the other. Both, thus operate with the best aspect of themselves with relationship to the other. That is how and why respect comes easily between them. When the best in one is brought out, and the highest reflection of one's self worth is in the presence of the other, one holds such a relationship dear. It is self preservation at its highest but using the other as a mirror for one's best. So in a way you love someone a lot because you love who you are when you are with that person. How you act, how you feel, how your self esteem is boosted in the presence of the other through the very act of association decides how a relationship would go and how long it would last. If secretly one hates the association, or is not finding a reflection of the highest in oneself reflected through association with the other, it leads to a deterioration of the relationship.

Pride of association brings on brand loyalty. A relationship that has no transactional value will also die fast as all brands will. Power brands are built when the individual brand value is highly enhanced with association to the other and collectively a new brand that has the combined power of both individual brands is formed. Such a  marriage is often a successful one.


- Srividya Srinivasan

Just a little prayer ...

O God !
Grant me a bigger ego.
One almost as big as you.

              - Srividya Srinivasan

I realise ...

How can I be angry with you for taking too much
   When I was the one to give it all
         without holding anything back ?

       - Srividya Srinivasan

Say it is not so ...

Do we live in a state of perpetual denial, unceasing self-induced good feeling and positivism even if the truth is all around us screaming itself hoarse ? Have we become a race where stating the obvious truth becomes a crime, and one is branded a pessimist or a kill joy or worse still a traitor for just for recognizing what is ?. Solutions will start only when we recognize and accept that there is a problem and celebrate the one who has the courage to state the truth instead of stilling the voice of truth. Instead, we would rather continue and live the fake that everything is fine until the stench of our cowardice assails our consciences to override our denial. We are a race of worshipers of superficiality, of what looks fine and seems like feel good. We are a race of empty beautiful plastic masks hanging by a thread. A hollow self worshiping race rotting in the stench of unceasing indulgence covering it up with perfumed aromas and glittering lies.

 - Srividya Srinivasan

Pain, Life and Death

Pain, is the impact each time natural chaos mockingly breaks through our feeble artificial attempts to discipline or control life and make it predictable to our terms. Every day. All through our lives. And yet, we shall try till we die our final deaths,even if  we die a million small deaths every day. Foolish people. Us. Through our awkward daily attempts at routine, discipline and order we will strive to gain the upper hand,  to claim that we have life licked. And laughingly, mockingly life will throw its head back at us as if to say " Fools, it is in unpredictability, through change, through de-automizing that you are alive. The minute it is anything else it is called Death" And so the game goes on, between pain, life and death.

~ Srividya Srinivasan

Arrogance ?

What you accuse as Arrogance, my dear,
      is nothing but my freedom and ability
               to have my own view
                      based on my own experience and
                               based on my own intuition
                                    without the weight of
                                             authority or
                                                 approval of
                                                    another's
                                                          experience
                                                               or stamp of
                                                                     credibility.
                                I am far more credible and honest
                                                 because I speak my own truth
                                                          however warped or confused it may be.
                                                                                                                       
                                                                      ~ Srividya Srinivasan

                                               

What do you see ?

The highest freedom comes when you realise that you are nothing special. You are just another child, just another mom, just another wife, just another sister or brother, aunt or uncle, colleague, boss, friend, just another wanna be, just another struggling human on this planet, just another person fighting the battle of health, wealth, hopes, dreams, fears, fat and death. That you and all around you everyone is carrying the curse of uniqueness and the blessing of ordinariness. In that humbling realisation you come to terms with yourself as you are. And, that is what one sees in the mirror, no ?

- Srividya Srinivasan

Conversations with a soulmate - II

Him:
Tell me when does a relationship start?
when two people talk?
or when 2 people hold hands and go for walks
or when they sleep together
or when they live together for sometime
or when that irrespective of the above or with all the above, they have realised that this can last a long time?

Her:

I think the moment one just knows that even if it is a risk it is worth taking and taking it together.
You see inspite of all logical considerations affection, love etc., is spontaneous and intuitive and from the gut ... we make pathetic attempts to articulate ourselves and others as descriptions. As though we are absolutes or definitions and yet each of us could be just such different persons with different people...

I have found there is no timelines possible to relationships.When is it ok to hold hands, when does it stop being a risk, when is it ok to kiss ? The intensity of emotions vary with the readiness of both people and a host of situations that favour it. Some times one month seems too long a wait and sometimes one needs a year. One just flows, and if it feels right and there is great degree of trust and willingness to be vulnerable to each other, one is ready faster. We could talk for a year without meeting yet in minutes when we meet so many things would fall in place - some questions wouldn't arise and some answers would just be there.

Conversations with a soulmate - I

Her: I have been a Shakti all my life, too powerful in my inner fire to be subdued by mere conventions. I can only bow down to love and gentleness - but yes will match fire for fire - passion for passion - gentleness with gentleness - go so tender that we would be so vulnerable ... a Sati is lost without her Shiva just like a Shiva is nothing without his Sati to fire him

Him: I would tell you to flower and flower and flower such that your intensity overwhelms me and my passions... I will tell you something... if I am with a woman and she decides to use her sensuality so openly that it is no longer within my grasp, I will be proud of that woman... I am never in fear of not keeping a woman and even if a woman leaves me, it would be because I have made her over grow me to such an extant that my usual self would look mellow... I would react to that by being sad for sometime, but I would also be proud, be quick to get to my feet and rise even further up in my capabilities... I believe we within are very primal and I think that is the supreme pleasure that is provided to humans... A man and a woman are like yin and yang... like Shiva and Shakti...I am Shiv... and my exuberance and passion will become multifold, uncontrollable to give and to share if I find my Shakti...

Her: And, have you found her ?

The gods within us ...

The ancient gods have vanished ...
Did they ever exist ?
Who knew them then ?
Who knows them now?
Buried into the vastness of
    consciousness and unconsciousness...
They have gone.
Unbidden and uncared for...

The new gods were born ...
They were invoked ...
Created by fertile minds in feeble bodies...
Fed on by thoughts and invocations
and fueled by desires of mortals...
Until the crying prayers of million minds
made them powerfully weak.

Where are the new gods now?
Who speaks their tongue?
The pseudo priests and the holy men ?
The new age thinkers ?
Or none?

If a man was a little saner
His God would know what to do .
But then if man was saner ...
would he create a god  at all ?

and they fight and they burn...
in the name of the forgotten gods
quoting verses from books long gone...

Will the spirits of the old and new gods
awake from their slumber ?
They will. Or then maybe they will not.

          - Srividya Srinivasan

~Written in the style of Nasa Diya [ The gods don't seem the same after i learnt their age - Discussion with Sadanand ]

The joy of living ...

Sometimes just a simple act of a hand holding yours or waking up beside another soul in the morning brings a different colour to life.

Will you really ?

Dearest,

I know you will help me in my battle.
Will you also help me give up my fight ?

- Srividya Srinivasan

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Will it someday ?

If the mind decides, will the heart at some point learn to obey ?

God is so nebulously fragile ...

When the realistion of the fragility of human existence and of all the people around you hit you, you are humbled to a point of such intense beauty, simplicity, vulnerability and love and there is an aching need in you to wipe out every tear and pain... God is so close emotionally, it is amazing we don't see it all the time...

                                               ---------------------------------------

We grow in beauty by acceptance not in rejection.

The Goddess you fail to see ...

 3 women ...
 9 days ...

 Are you drowning in that fiery woman ?
 The one who is so powerful that you are left breathless...
 Bold and assertive,
 Sexy and demanding...
 Confident and supreme ...
 Shakti...
 Pulsing, throbbing energy
 with absolutely no apology...
or mercy ...

 Or are you chasing the auspicious,
 the gentle one that makes thing worthwhile,
 the one who ushers in goodness,
 the nurturer,
 the inspirer who propels you to adore her ?
 the one who makes you rich...
 with her presence...

 Or is she overwhelming you with her knowledge,
 her deeply intuitive intelligence,
 her play with all things fine,
 raising your vision by
 the creative fire in you that she stokes...

 Have you adored her today ?
 Drowned and overwhelmed
 and drunk in her energy...
 until satiated you lie in her arms
 and in her eyes see that she was always all three
 and a thousand more...

 Which woman did you see these nine nights in her ?
 Or did you see all of them in your woman tonight ?

                                  - Srividya Srinivasan

[This was written during the navrathri time. For me navathri is all about the men and the woman or women they see around them. The aspects of the goddess that resonates most to them and matches them... While the women go around busy with their golus and sundals and silks, while the garbhas and the dandias hold their sway, my eyes have scanned the men curious to see how they adore the goddesses they have each been blessed with... I somehow find it difficult to comprehend how every festival the woman starves or fasts for the longevity of her spouse or the masculine element's well being, and even for a celebration of the feminine aspect it is she who again praises her own self and worships her own femininity ...isn't the resonance and reflection in shiva's eyes that best acknowledge sakthi's fire and identity ?]

This torturous journey has to go on ... it is the journey of a soul ... reaching its levels...  

          Srividya Srinivasan 

Precious magic...

My dearest...
Don't bring the mundane,
the logic into the precious...
and kill the magic ...
instead ...
bring a touch of the precious
into the mundane...
to color it with magic...

- Srividya Srinivasan

It is a fragile world ...

Dearest,
It is a fragile world ...
And our bubble of happiness
needs but a little prick of reality ...
for the magic to crumble...
Just a cold dash of logic
for it to crash...
Just a blink of an eye
for the charm to vanish ...

What is it that binds us ?
What deeper yearning that
connects us ?

Somewhere a soul is craving
for resonance..
It is yours and it is mine
and it is everyone we know...
And yet we cloak our fear in ego ...
and hide our vulnerability with our pride....
Even if deep down we know ...

If we be very still...
and don't still the voice of madness within...
We will know the preciousness of being vulnerable ...
the utter truth of it...
the magic of staying true ...
to our deeper selves...
We will seek the other
so that the best in us is kept alive
and the other is a custodian of our vulnerability fragile ...

And yet we allow the cloak of
indifference,
the mask of triviality
and the mundane to enter
at their will,
to cast their spell on us...
We allow the death of the divine
celebrate the sanity of
logic and reason...
and call the magic madness...

Hush... my dearest ...
I am vulnerable right now
Gloriously and beautifully so...
Never been more fragile ...
nor more alive...
and words are a poor fill
for the richness of a singing heart...

It is a fragile world o dearest
and our souls just embraced...
Did you feel it ?
I did...

And I am caught in the magic of it still...

               Srividya Srinivasan - 10/10/2011

I smiled at you today ...

I smiled at you today ...
A big broad, disgustingly happy smile.
And you were grumpy...
Grouchy...
Not in a mood to return it back...

So I left my smile behind to do its job...
grinning to myself ...
'cos I knew it could make your day
more than I ever could.

It sat there beside you
waiting for a chance ...
to sneak and spread its sunshine...
as You went about your day...

It thought it had a chance ...
When you sat with your coffee,
Your mouth almost smiled
as you cracked that code...
And I relaxed that it had almost got you...
when you put on that music that you liked...
But there you were, frowning in concentration...
happy in your isolation...

And suddenly I come online...
And your eyes lit up ...
And you remembered
that I had left a smile behind
that you had not returned...

Aha !
My smile jumps on to you...
Sneaks into your mind and
enters all the way to your heart
to end on your lips ...

And you break into a smile
to type this :) to me.

                ---- Srividya Srinivasan 7/9/2011

A song for a happy room ...

Hide some smiles here and there
to pull out on a rainy day...
Pack some hugs and cuddles away...
to use up on a cosy day...
Sprinkle your room
with laughter and giggles...
And fold those memories away...
The nasty ones at the bottom
and the nice ones at the top...
Shake out those sad thoughts...
And empty those tears away...
Keep your dancing shoes close at hand...
And turn on the music loud...
Now hug that pillow by your side
And lo, your room is done...

          - Srividya Srinivasan [26/8/2011]

The biggest challenge
is to
be a
dispassionate observer
of the drama
of your life
unfolding
where it is just
one person
in the play!
You.

If...

‎'If the child in me could play with the child in you, what a wonderful world it would be !

-- Srividya Srinivasan

For the love of coffee...

Coffee...My earliest memories of coffee is waking up to the smell of it as it permeated the house at about 5 in the morning... As amma (mother) offered her cup of love to get Appa's (father) day going... Appa would roll it back and forth like a Narasus coffee Ad ( A famous coffee brand in south India) and drink it piping hot until it would scald his tongue ...And as one would snuggle deeper in to the thin jamakalams (ground covers) and porvai (thin blankets), it swirled around you, the smell of it lulling you into a warm blanket of security and timelessness...

As i grew older, i would brave the early morning cold, and too impatient to wait for the coffee, climb the ricketty wooden ladder, onto the dangerous asbestos and over the ledge to get to the open terrace armed with a book to mug (study rote) from... and with the grey dawn just breaking... snuggle up beside the chimney as wafts of warm air and the smell of coffee lured me down again...

Paati (grand mother) would grind the beans sitting in the middle room between the kitchen and the Swami (god) room ... I remember the thrill of turning it, the crunching noise, the coarse mix coming out to be ground again... On a rare day, one was allowed a couple of turns at it...

And Paati's love for coffee... It was always a lota.( a small mug) 'Ennum Konjam kudendi Kalyani ...' And the lota would be tilted so as to not waste the precious last drop...

Then the rendam (second) coffee.. which of course meant it was a weaker version... The coffee powder was subjected to a second dose of hot water, obviously a lesser volume and mixed with the milk once boiled. But one drank the consolation prize all the same, pulling a face but not refusing the offer...Of course, the three 'o' clock afternoon coffee was a different affair and accompanied with some light snacks...

Appa's baptism of all the innumerable children that our house was blessed with, was to secretly walk across and at the earliest opportunity sneak a drop of coffee into their lips... (I am going to have the whole family jumping up to deny this but I have an elephantine memory for impressions, so i will stand my ground on this)... I have been a witness at least thrice...

When I got married and went into a tea drinking house, i felt like i had lost a personal wake up mantra... How I would long for that smell, taste and flavour until i almost felt sick... and babuji's mother would casually stroll in and say i need you for something and sneak me into her house and quickly make me a super coffee with ' vegam kudichuko' and i would like a cat that has licked some cream or like a man who has had a secret swag at his drink innocently swagger back... I could handle the innumerable pink teas for the day... I have had my coffee...

Years ago, when I was in the US and had dropped into Ramesh's place and saw him religiously grinding his beans and smelling it deep, and a few years ago, I saw Bala filtering the powder with a tissue to get the perfect taste ... these caffeine memories are forever etched in my memory... i grin I know what it means to be a coffee lover...

I have recently managed to like tea, the various teas without milk... but coffee is a lifetime of memories... an integral part of my existence, one that i can't just drink away...And when some old mama comes home and says ' A1 coffee' when i offer it to him, i have this stupid grin plastered on my face... I know I have arrived ... I recently stumbled on Narasus coffee powder in a store next to my place and it almost felt like Amma had moved in closer... I felt I had to call and tell her the news...

And everyday I ping a dear old pal... and we share a kaapi some days online...

A coffee talk with a friend got me started on this today ...

So did your kaapi make your day? Cappuccino? Kaapichino ? Kaapi ?

Heart Strings...

There are some who come into our lives...
for a brief instant and are gone...
We treasure them and always remember them
but we are ok to let them go...

There are some whom we can never recollect
and they hardly touch our lives...
And we move on
with no memory of each other...

There are some who come in...
with some misguided idea of us..
searching for resonance...
who refuse to let go...
and cling on...
Cutting them off is the kindest thing to do...
to yourself and to them...

There are some who touch our lives deeply...
And our lives are intertwined ...
But when the time comes...
We have to gently untangle ourselves
to let them go...
Loving them but letting them go...
is the only thing to do...

And there are some ...
who are there to stay...
You may not speak to them...
meet them...
But they reside in you...
as long as you live...
and when you try to cut them off ...
a thin thread refuses to snap...
and when you tug at it ...
you find it goes all the way to your heart...

‎Sometimes love is for a moment,
sometimes love is for a lifetime.
Sometimes ...
Just sometimes
with someone
a moment is a lifetime...


---- Srividya Srinivasan

The big Question ?

When I am indifferent to my existence,
Does it really matter that you think I should continue to exist ?

Srividya Srinivasan
[Ramblings]

Where has Rasa gone ?

Equation of emotional resonance...

1. Identification + emotion = Rasa/Resonance/Intensity/life
2. Identification - emotion = Buddha
3. No identification + emotion = Chaos/Conflict/Pain/Difference
4. No identification - emotion = Indifference/Death/A lonely soul

I am a lonely soul at the moment ...who has operated with Rasa till now... Where has Rasa gone ? Bring her back else let me at least become a Buddha !

- Srividya Srinivasan
(Ramblings)

Expansion or reduction ?

Do you narrow the circle until you come to the dot or do you expand it so much that you merge into nothingness... Are both the same? Finally is it ultimate expansion or ultimate reduction... both are infinite and have no end ... A particle in the wave has to have some clue ... It can't just ride the wave...

Is the answer in expansion or reduction ? There is no middle ground.

I need to know... NOW.

There is no middle ground...

What would I do for love?

What would I do for love?
Well, anything my dear.
I would go past my fears...
I would travel across the earth...
I would toss all what I have ...
To walk by your side...
I would bear your child...
Stand by you through the storm wild,
Love you all through ...
Live for you and maybe die too..
And dearest,
if it comes to that ...
I will for love ...
Just let go and
walk away too...

What would you do my dearest, for love?

---- Srividya Srinivasan

They say that the greatest regret is
when you never tried at all.
The greatest regret is in trying it all
going all the way, all the time
And finding it was not worth it after all.

--- Srividya Srinivasan

Respecting my right to speak does not mean you have an obligation to listen . . .

Do I exist ?

Do I exist ?

You think I do.
So may be I do.

Am not so sure though.

If I disappear from the face of the earth,
and if they remove all traces that I ever was,
Did I then exist at all?

I am not there to tell my story.
And you will forget mine too.

So did i exist ?

Pardon the tenses.
The lines in history just blurred.

--- Srividya Srinivasan

B L A N K . . .

What is it called when the body remains but you willfully kill the mind ?
Is it still suicide i wonder ?

--- Srividya Srinivasan

Freedom ?

The bird waves its tired wings against the caged door seeing the open blue skies.
The fish in the net thrashes desperately trying to move to the water it sees.
The bull pulls the yoke, as its eyes go up in the strain.
The man in prison sees the single beam of moonlight that reaches his room
dreams of his lover and sings.

--- Srividya Srinivasan

...

When the child in you dies, everything dies ...

It simply is love ...

To love someone is to acknowledge the role they have played in our lives. To recognize that our paths crossed at some point and that we have been co-travellers for a while in life. To love someone is to accept the truth of interconnectedness of all the people who touch our lives into the tapestry of our existence. To love someone is to accept and acknowledge the existence of a part of us in them and a part of them in us.

From our parents, family, first loves, childhood buddies, best friends, classmates, broken loves, discarded friends, friends turned enemies, online friends, colleagues, clients, people whom we have forgotten, people who have forgotten us, people who ignore us now, people who turn their back on us and whom we ignore and turn our backs on, people we just smile at, people we see past… they are all there in the story of our lives and we in theirs.

We get hurt, angry or feel violated when ‘they’ change their promise of ‘who they seemed’ to ‘who they suddenly become’. When their suitability, usability or conformity changes, it confuses us and we fight to re-establish the original image we agreed to have of them. We do the same to them when we change. But we will always be the victim, the one who was wronged. Even when we ignore, wear a mask or hurt a loved one, it is almost like another alternate being descends on us. Someone truly not us.

So does love really go away? Can love ever go away? Can people ever fade away? Can their influence or memory be just pretended away?


Why do we wear masks? Why do we squirm at memories that don’t suit us? Why do we not acknowledge the sides to us that aren’t or weren’t heroic? Why can’t we say sorry? Why can’t we start again? Why do we ignore those who reach out? Why do we put our hands at the back and refuse to shake hands, or meet someone’s eyes?

We are not scared of what we will find there. We are scared that we will not measure up in our own eyes. We are scared of what they will no longer find in us perhaps? We are scared of old discomforts and insecurities arising in us again. We are scared of being vulnerable.

We get angry when they persist, feel violated when they remind us of their affection and refuse to acknowledge them. The more real and genuine they are, the more we push them away. We abuse, ignore, and ridicule their overtures of affection as they force us to remember a better us. They remind us of the promises we failed to meet, the intentions we faked to gain and the most importantly they make us vulnerable again. We are scared of giving them the power of love; afraid that they know us too well and that we have failed them somehow. We understand that by failing them, we have failed ourselves and we would do anything to avoid that admission.

So where and when does love change? Does a relationship ever die? Can the bonds of families and loves ever break?

To continue to love someone does not mean we desire to turn back the clock. It does not mean that we are trying to re-establish status quo. It simply means we are acknowledging the interconnectedness of it all. It simply means that we accept the role they have played in our lives and the role we played in theirs. It means we accept responsibility for that influence.

Love is a continuum not to be confused with our superficial behavioral swings and it does not really operate with a tense. There is no question of ‘I loved you’, ‘I love you’ ‘I will love you’. If we have accepted and loved someone once, we have accepted them forever. They are an integral part of our lives.

It simply is Love.

--- Srividya Srinivasan, 14.2.2011

Waiting at the crossroads...

i am lost.
i have no clue where i am.
i have no idea where i am headed.
Looking back i realise i am
where i thought I should be.
But...
it is not how i wanted it to be.
Or thought it would be.

Sometimes, driving your destiny
listening to your inner voice is insane.
And, reading divinity into synchronicity madness.
Sometimes, wishing for something is the ecstasy
and getting it is the agony.

I look around
and every road ahead fills me with fear.
Which road should i take ?
On what grounds should i take it?

I stand there pausing
breathing hard, legs trembling.
I cannot make a mistake and
take any road and then traverse back.
My legs are too weary.
My spirit too broken.

I wait at the crossroads.

Maybe someone would come by,
retracing their path to tell me
that their road is not worth travelling.
Maybe someone would come by
with the energy to take me along
even on a bad road
where the road may be bad
but the journey good.

I look back thinking I have come far
I realise I have just been going in circles.
I haven't moved at all.

I wait at the crossroads where so many roads meet.

I wait.

Just being.

The graph of your life ...

Take that pen and draw a line
as straight you can.
Make it even and flat
and don't shake your finger so.
It is a safe thing to understand
and with a little effort
the easiest thing to draw.
And when you ask people what it is
they will nod their heads in unison
for everyone knows a straight line.

Now take that pen and start a line
gloriously flow your hand as the pen flows
up and down and straight ahead
thick and thin strokes and those little jiggles
Now ask them what they think it is
and each of them would say different.

If your life was safe and flat
You could almost be dead.
Now look a little closer
and enjoy the ups and downs
the little quirks
the points that stand away from the line
Those are your high points
and your low ones
and the points that you have lived at all.

The spirit refuses to die ...

They can misread you, misquote you, upset you, confuse you, hurt you, abandon you, use you, cheat you, bully you, torture you, ignore you... even be indifferent to you. But what they can never never touch is your inner spirit.

-- Srividya Srinivasan

Evolving...

Evolving is when I am nice
even when you are not.
When I am charming, in love
and graceful in my separation.

How I react when you have left me,
misunderstood me,
forgotten me,
unloved me says only your story.
How i remain is mine.

I am still here beautiful for you.
Smiling with my eyes,
and bubbling with my laughter,
My love and belief in us
filling my heart.

How I sulk, or how I shrug,
How i wait or how I move
How i believe or how I let go,
What I am in your presence
or absence,
When your love fills me
or abandons me
Is all there is to me.

What I am when nothing goes my way
is what I am in reality.
How I love when it is not love my way
is all the love that's in me.

What I am when the world turns its back
is all that is in me.
What I am when I have nothing to give
is all there is to give in me.

I am in me...

And today when i realise this
I am free.
I can love you without your permission,
laugh without your censure,
jump without you thinking me crazy,
go on this mad journey with you in my head.

All the love in the world is in me...
All the love in the world is in me.

Happy new year love !

My best moments with you were the ones we did not share. When you weren't around with me.I could be uninhibited in my expression without your disbelief to cloud it, enjoy a profound moment pretending you felt it alongside, sing and dance in ecstasy, breathe life and joy without holding back due to your censure.

I could walk holding your hand, stay warm against your chest, laugh into the night, and make deep love,safe and secure and brilliantly evolving in your absolute love and understanding. Your kindness moves me to tears, my laughter catches up a little breathlessly into your deep laughter, and our steps match. The fire of passion burns high, and we match our wits and our minds and start with words and end with love. We gaze at sunsets and sunrises in silent awe...

Happy new year love !

Been brilliant missing you!

The pebble in the hand ...

Oh, the river seems to flow the way it has always done. It looks pretty much the same as it always did. You sit on its bank and look at it and slowly, ever so slowly it casts its spell on you. Your rhythm slows down and you become one with the river and its pace. You put your feet in, one at a time and squeal in surprise. Was it always this cold? And, as you stand there in absolute stillness allowing the slow currents to tease you, to touch you and to envelop your feet … in a few minutes, you are cold no more. You delight in the rush of old forgotten joys of the familiar that were pushed into oblivion with time, crowded with experiences of oceans and seas that were faster, bigger and more dangerous than a silly old river.

You walk facing the small currents, indulgent and complacent in pandering to an old river’s whims. Did it always run this way before? It seems to have changed its course. Did it narrow down to just a trickle at this point? Is it the end of the river? Curious you walk on and discover that just around the corner, a little almost after you gave up on it, when you thought it almost done, it picks up its strength and gathers itself about and you progress on to find it running to its full majesty and silent strength a little later on.

Your feet touch the pebbles and you pick one up. Smooth, glistening and glowing. Perfect and rounded. How many countless wear down by the river before the pebbles gave up fighting to reach this state?How much the river fights with those yonder rocks relentlessly pushing before it wears the rocks down? Was the current this strong always? The branches of the trees beside the bank lean over and seem to whisper to the busy river as she runs past asking her to pause and converse for a while. The butterflies and bees are abuzz with the news of your presence excitedly running about and the blue skies look on, the clouds lazily floating about indulging themselves by looking on at the scene.

The river is not the same. You ‘see’ it has changed. You can ‘feel’ the change. There are things you see now that you did not see before. It just seems the same. When you actually go with the flow, slow down your pace or speeden up to match its course, the river is not the same any more.

You caress the small stone stolen from the river, smoothened over countless wars with the river, cold initially and now warm in your hands.

--- Srividya Srinivasan 18.12.2010

How beautiful and free is this moment ....

How beautifully and full is this moment …
So full of love and joy for the other.
Not because we are together
but even though we are not.
The heart is so full yet free and flowing …
And one is content in just letting things be.
No questions, no seeking, no regrets,
no looking back or thinking ahead.
No desire at play, no motive, no promises
No I, You, US.
None intrude. None matter.
How beautiful is this moment…
where the heart is full and words don’t matter.
And love simply is.

------ Srividya Srinivasan [ Midnight Ramblings] 15/12/2010

I am no joker ...

I am just gonna be.
No longer god’s joker.
No imagined favourite child.
I am not going to gush
or jump in elation
every time I think I see his sign.
If he waves at me
I ain't waving back.
I am just gonna be.
His timing sucks,
his humour is worse.
If he thinks I am a bad sport
I don’t care.
I am just gonna be.
Tried talking to him last nite
Told him we are splitting.
Baby, he said with a grin,
You would be back.
Remember, I own the cards
and you are still my joker.
And ...
the joker never
becomes the queen.


- Srividya Srinivasan 18.11.2010

Pain ...

When there is nothing left in you to say,
it is better to say nothing at all.

-- Srividya Srinivasan

Life ...

I have moved when I should have waited,
Waited when I should have moved.
Believed when I should have given up,
Given up when I should have believed.
Been silent when I should have spoken,
Spoken when I should have been silent.
Said ‘No’ when I should have said ‘Yes’
and ‘Yes’ when I should have said ‘No’.
Smiled when I should have cried.
Cried when I should have smiled.
Risked when I should have played safe,
Played safe when I should have risked.
Acted smart when I was being dumb
Dumb when the world thought me smart.
Brave when I trembled inside,
Trembled when the world thought me brave.
Broken when people thought me strong,
Strong when they thought me weak.
Trusted when I was cheated,
Cheated when I was trusted.
Died when I should have lived,
Living when I could have died.


---- Srividya Srinivasan 23/09/2010

Dream lover ...

No more tears my darling
Shh, for I am here beside.
Hug me tight, my dearest
I am never gonna leave your side.

Let me wipe your tears
Let me erase the pain
From those who were before me
who wiped the child off ur face.

And when you are strong, I will smile
and watch you walk tall with pride
and turn to the world and say
that's her. she is mine.

When you are down, I will be beside
behind, ahead and all over you.
And when you want to walk alone
I will wait and watch
And when the woman turns into the lil girl
there I will be with my arms opened wide.

You come in with ur flirty smile
and as you turn around i smile
is it you or is it me
are we one ?

The tears remain.
The pain remains.
I am cold.
Beaten and bruised.
The scars remain.
You came in my dream
and left again.

Dream lover, were you ever mine ?

-- Srividya Srinivasan

Divinity of life

• The only divinity that can ever be in the natural order of things and in the physical structure of the universe.

• The only other divinity that ever can be is mutual respect and genuine love between humans, animals and plant life.

• Mutual respect that everyone has a different journey, a different perception of their journey and are at a different point in the journey. Never compare their journey unless to learn from theirs. If their journey is radically different from yours but worth exploring give it a shot as genuinely as you can and pursue or leave it if it suits you or doesn’t. It works for them. It does not work for you. It is no less genuine than yours. The way they see their journey may be different from you. If it interests you clue in else shut up. The same goes for the point in the journey. If they have journeyed ahead, catch up else shut up.

• Genuine love needs no explanation and has no fixed rules of expression

• Whatever happens, happens because of a natural cause and effect manifested at a large scale or a personal scale. What suits us is a miracle and what doesn’t is a calamity,

• Life is a series of cause and effect peppered with randomness. The cause and effect is unacceptable in reality as it demands accountability and a stop to manipulation. The human mind searches for coincidences as it is a useful tool for answers and it is the best prop for self brainwashing, social brainwashing and belief in the divine.

• Physical death is a natural or unnatural phenomenon just like birth and often perceived a calamity by the human mind. Physical death occurs due to cause and effect like murder, random/partial cause and effect like accidents, and natural aspects like disease or old age. There is no sin attached to any of the above. You die because you were born. You do not die as a punishment and heaven is not a reward.

• Gender is purely a biological difference and nothing else and be celebrated and intrigued over and finally accepted. Every other difference stated or used is only manipulative.

• All religion that ever was and will be will only be manipulative and false and is only social, moral and psychological brainwashing to make you weak, dependent and guilty. It is done to ensure safety of numbers and to remove your accountability in yourself and in your actions. This brainwashing is both external and internal. External by the world and religion to manipulate you and internal by you to use as a prop or an excuse or justification to act or not act in a particular manner.

• Every custom, every ritual will only divide or manipulate. Permit and accept only those that are fun, easy, that do not profess a deeper meaning or bring guilt in you because you have not done it in a particular way. If your child had fun it was a great festival. If it made your old man happy it was worth the effort. If it was a wonderful feast, enjoy it. Pretend along. But be clear that’s what it all was.

• Life is beautiful. Yes. It is. And living is a special experience. Just live it as it unfolds everyday without guilt, regret, fear or manipulation.
  
  

Life is beautiful

Life is beautiful.

Fragile and nebulously so.

Some days and moments just rush in the good feeling, pushing past your daily grind, past your jaded cynicism, past your world weariness to tinge all the everyday things and people with a special color to put that smile on your face.

Just you.

Your shoulders relax albeit slowly, your feet stretch and your smile broadens and you are just happy. Just plain happy. No reasons. There is a singing in your heart that has no history. Nothing special and yet very special just because it is so intensely full. It feels good to be alive. You are acutely aware of the sights, sounds and colours of life around you. You are rooted in the awareness of the moment and in touch with it. All questions and pain seem dull, differences and conflicts forgotten and thrust in a corner for the moment. Music playing somewhere adding its rightness to the moment. So do the odd snatches of silence. Blessed content silence. Friends seem to reach out adding a unique flavor. A loved one calls and the moment is flavored some more , peppered with humour and warmth. The moment is so perfect holding all the promise of life and love that it can possibly hold.

I hug this special moment. I know not what the next moment would bring. But this moment? This moment is mine to savour, to pass on, and to share. What do I care about the next when I have been blessed with this moment so full?

Life is heady indeed.
---- Srividya Srinivasan July 26, 2010

I cannot follow you ...

I am sorry.
I have no role model.
No gurus.
No companions to hold my hand.
Yes, I can read about your journey.
And the journeys of the Buddhas and the sadhus.
The pious, the agnostic, the rationalist and the intellect,
the profound and the profane,
the free spirit and the disciplinarian,
the madman and the seer.
But in the end you see,
It is your journey and theirs, not mine.
Within me, only I can journey.
How can i ever comprehend the quality of your journey?
How can i but not question the credibility of your truth ?
It is not my truth.
It is not my truth until I can feel it in my bones,
until it stems from the very core of my being and belief,
until it rules every conviction of mine,
and goes past that to overpower my very existence.
My journey and only my journey matters to me.
My truth and only my truth can be the truth for me.
I exist only in me.
I can think you exist.
I am even sure you do.
But you see,
you exist as what I can see you as.
You exist as a reflection of my truth.
Of my comprehension of you.
You exist as how my life has taught me to see you.
Go your journey dearest in search of your truth if you will.
But do not ask me why i have no role models.
Call it my arrogance or your ignorance,
Be shocked at my honesty in only acknowledging my truth as the highest.
Or the fact that my truth changes as my perceptions do.
My truth will be MY highest as only I can stand by it.
You are free to stand by your truth.
But, do not be angered because I can believe harder in my truth
and that I am neither overpowered by yours nor willing to bow my head to it.
Instead raise your conviction of your truth to match my conviction in mine.
So that our individual truths can set us free and light a flame in the other.
Together we shall then walk hand in hand.
Two free individuals sharing our varied journeys.

-- Srividya Srinivasan - 6.7.2010

Love of a different kind.

Different people touch our lives in different ways.

Some people are like solid pillars, unquestioningly there for you,right beside you when you need them.People you can call at any time of the day and night over any number of years. People, you need not explain yourself to and whom you can depend on more than you can sometimes in yourself. You are simply connected with them for life. Some quietly prod you to move, gently correcting you but never letting you down. They censor your actions with a gentleness and genuine understanding and affection and you always surprise yourself by changing yourself for them cos its simply so beautiful to do so.Some provoke you into thinking, into discovering aspects in you that you never knew existed.Some come like a storm bringing a world of new things and simply change your world upside down. Some bring laughter and warmth when they come in and teach you how to care. To look at life with a different energy, ease and flow. Some show their care through some brisk act of solidarity and hate a hug or a kiss and shudder at the very thought of sentiment.Fiercely protective of your interest and welfare, they love you and are completely with you except that you should never state it or sentimentalize over them.

And there are those who care and simply don't know how to show they do.They run a mile when you need them, block you out when you reach out and then unexpectedly turn up and show such immense love and affection when you least expect them to.You can never think you know them, never reach out to them when you need them,assume that you are important enough for them to show they care. You will never be their priority and can never be sure about them. They will always let you down all your life and it is up to you to choose to strengthen yourself by not getting hurt each time. They teach you the most important lesson of it all - the lesson of indifference and the loss of ego. They teach you vulnerability, insecurity, anger and finally acceptance. They teach you to love with a different intensity and flavor.Initially you are angry, hurt, confused about their behavior. At a brilliant point, you realize that loving them is accepting them the way they are. Loving them is accepting the fact that they will never be there for you but you will always want to be there for them. They teach you to give and learn not to ask in return.It would make no difference to them even if you ask.They will treat your love and your reaching out with complete indifference. Accepting to love them is accepting the fact that they will care and express their care only when and if it suits them, and in ways that will suit them and not when you need them.They teach you to love with absolutely no expectations.It is love of the hardest kind but the most beautiful and the purest. Thank you for touching my life this way.

Everyone has someone !

Everyone has someone.
You have everyone.
Friends drop in.
Add some cheer.
Cook a meal.
Clean a bit.
Then they disappear.
To their cosy lives
and fireplaces.
To wives and husbands
and cuddles in bed.
And at night.
you stare at the
fireplace. Alone.

Everyone has a wedding.
You are there too.
You are on everyone's list.
To help.
Popular are you?
Everyone is calling out for you.
You are the one to take their pictures.
And in the night
you are with your thoughts, fears and hopes.
You stare at the fireplace.
Alone.

Everyone has a baby.
Laughing lovely babies.
Everyone is a daddy
Everyone is a mom.
The kids love you.
You are the only uncle around
who is not a dad.
The only aunt around who is free.
You are on everyone's list.
Popular are you?

Women come and women go.
None to warm your heart and soul.
Your hands reach out and find
the dent beside you in the bed
was your own.
made the night before.
Men come and men go.
Kisses and cuddles galore
but who has the courage to
go for more?

You measure the yards from
home to work
from work to home.
Every free meal at a friend's has
you running for more.
You are on everyone's list.
Popular are you?
It is either the dog or you !
And at night.
you stare at the fireplace.
Alone.

You are cold.
You are dead.
You want a cuddle.
You want a kiss.
You want the warmth.
You want the laughter.
You want the woman.
You want the man.
You want the child
who is not there.
They are laughing.
They are partying.
Everyone has someone

At night.
as you stare at the fireplace,
you have grown old.
And your faded eyes
give your pain away.

They are laughing.
They are partying.
Everyone has someone
and you have no one.
but Who cares?

---- Srividya Srinivasan, 11.4.2010

Thank you.

Two simple words.
And I am saying it with all of me.
They mean a lot.
You have wiped away a million moments
of pain and loneliness.
A million moments of being read wrong.
In that few moments of being understood
you have given me something most precious
that no one has ever gifted me.
The gift of being just understood.
I am special in my eyes today.
Linked to myself and my God.
You have made feel proud of journey.
About being 'me'
Thank you.

To Bubbles and her dimpled mom-to-be !

Bubbles is loved before she is born.
Someone is waiting for her. Impatiently.
Smiling. Dreaming. Loving. Smiling. Dreaming.
Waiting to lift her and take her into her heart and home.
Bubbles, do you see your room is ready ?
Your clothes laid out. Toys galore.
The walls painted bright just for you?
Your baby feet shall patter across these rooms.
Your laughter shall fill these rooms.
And as you get ready to come into this world
Here’s my silent prayer for you and your mom-to-be.
May your lives be filled with countless giggles, dimples and laughter!
Tomorrow and forever!

Who are you I wonder?

You are a face without a form
A voice that laughs, teases, supports, scolds, and pampers.
A fixed picture on my screen and my head,
Sometimes blurred, sometimes clear, but always there.
In the same spot, right when I need you.
You are the silent spectator, the broad shoulder, the avid listener.
You give me new hope, a higher courage, a return to trust.
Will we meet and when we do,
I wonder how it would be.
What are we to each other that we care so much?
What is this relationship born amidst this nebulous fragile digital space?
And, when I look at your smile and kind eyes,
The questions disappear and so do the definitions.
Am happy to just let things be.
Happy just being me. And letting you just be.

How long I wonder I can hold on ?

How long I wonder I can hold on ?
What cruel test should I continue to pass ?
There seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel.
No hope or promise of the morrow.
How fair is it to continue the test
when one is so ridiculously unarmed ?
I have stood my ground
and by the truth,
with courage and faith,
spoken my mind and
believed my heart.
Is it that I have
failed you, my lord,
in not believing in you
longer and harder
and daring to question the test ?
Or is you who have
failed your precious child
standing with bent shoulders
and tears in her eyes
ready to give up?

---- Srividya Srinivasan

I long to be friends again …

I am hurting like crazy
more than I have been hurt all my life.
Like a child unable to comprehend
why adults are mean.
Like a child who badly wants to
play with a best friend
who just doesn't want to play with him anymore.
I am standing at the edge of the ground,
watching with my face pressed against the mesh fence,
knowing full well that I wouldn't be
accepted into the game.
I don't know what i have done or not done,
I can only feel helpless childish tears flow.
One minute we were both playing together
and the next minute you had thrown me out of
the field and out of the game.
And like a child with unreasonable hope
I can only pray that we be friends again.

This one moment...

If one could choose between one glorious moment of honesty
to a million inner battles of conventionality,
I am glad we have chosen this one moment
to be true.

A moment that would stand beautiful and pure,
stuck between
the years of the past and the years of the future
both not given to us.

Let us not get into dangerous waters
unless we are both ready to swim.
It is enough that we feel the same way
and finally saying it true.
Meeting each other on equal ground
and holding nothing back.

And so, only this moment is ours, my dear,
precious in our declaration of love.
For the beautiful people we are this moment.
Not for censorious eyes or waggling tongues,
and not even for our own narrow doubting selves
that would return after this precious moment is past.

Let us hold on to this moment a little longer,
It holds the beauty of a million moments
that never was and would never be.

------ Srividya Srinivasan, 7.9.2009

To a first love...

If I could turn back the clock,
I would hold your gaze until eternity,
and hold you tight and not let go.
I would write you letters of my love
and get replies to them too
and not wait in vain.
I would know my answer true
and know it hadn't been all in my head.
Your grin is fixed in my mind still
just as my youth is fixed in yours.
Should we ever meet
I wonder what we will find?
Soulmates that missed their way
or a silly relationship that never was.

--- Srividya srinivasan

Deep Down

Deep down my dearest, nothing has changed.
Deep down my dearest, is the magic,the hope and the connect.
Deep down my dearest, beneath the layers of pain and triviality,
beneath the wrinkles and the years,
fresh and beautiful, pure and untouched lies our love.
As young as the day it was born and, as innocent.

I see you are wearing your mask, and I come wearing none.
Let me be gracious in pretending that deep down there is and was nothing,
For deep down my dearest, both of us know
I can't ever wear a mask and you can never take yours off.

------- Srividya Srinivasan

he she he she he ?

She got up in the morning a male.
Adjusted the color of her skin to suit the day,
Smoothened yesterday's curves to square lines, .
As his feet slipped into the slip-ons,
the boobs disappeared.
It was always the last one to go.
As he strode lengthy strides,
the stubble came up just when the sun did.
He whistled at a passing she,
and she came around
he she he she he she?

--- Srividya Srinivasan

The big question

How can we comprehend the
mystery of what happens before birth
and what happens after death,
when we haven't even learnt
to understand ourselves
in between those two?

----------- Srividya srinivasan, Feb 8th 09