The Ochre Sky Writing Circle of 2023

My Gang

Sanobar and I met on a Monday morning. In a city where she had family and I made one. Where the stars align for some and loneliness exists in a room full of people. In a city where she knows more about clothes and I possibly know more about food. Both essentials for a happy life. I know, I know, sourdough bread and zari gota are not essentials, but they add spark, and we all need that, don’t we?

Talking of sparks, a year back I met a bunch of large hearted people squeezed into tiny windows of a computer screen. If someone had said to me, “You will make new friends in your fifties, or you may not meet them in a hurry but they will occupy your heart,” or “That you will share with them what you have buried away in your most tangled intestine,” or “That they will gift you the eyes and ears that you have felt deprived of as long as you remember,” I would have pooh-poohed and turned away from that person for saying foolish things.

But then life has its own miracles. And I see now that if I leave the door of my heart open even just a crack, the traffic of goodness flows freely.

I witnessed the birth of a family.

The bountiful little boxes taught me to listen, to accept, and to forgive. Ask any wellness guru about the medicinal benefits of this. Are they wellness gurus? I think not. Could they be therapists ? I would like to think so,  though they did not sign up for that .  We taught each other to grieve and allowed each other to brag. We found ourselves through each other; sab Guru bhi hain aur Shagird bhi. How many spaces would I find in one lifetime that give me so much in one go? As they say, “Kuch toh accha kiya hoga…”

Because of them and for them,

I wrote poetry (sorry poets)

I drew (hell knows)

I poured out tears stuck inside of me on paper. They took the form of words, at times.

They write, I write, we all write, breathing in, breathing out.

We hear each other, we read each other, we hold each other.

Aur kya chahiye…

Maya Angelou said, “I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back.”

I throw my words at the world, knowing that someone out there will hold it ever so gently. For me, that’s my gang. My safety net. Do you guys know you rescue me?

For now, Sanobar is the representative of my gang in flesh and blood. Does the flesh and blood matter? Yes, when you steal that peck on the cheek from behind or hug each other like sisters from another lifetime.

Does it matter that I remain separated (physically) from most of you, for now?

NO

You fill my heart with love and joy and make my spirit soar like a kite that lost its string. You touch me and move me with your words and silences. And the hope to be together in one room, eyes locked, feelings unlocked, and words thrown around with hugs, keeps me excited like a child waiting for its favorite toy from Santa.

Oh, to be in love again!

Happy birthday, kindred spirits. Abhi to hum shuru huay hain.

hazāroñ saal nargis apnī be-nūrī pe rotī hai

baḌī mushkil se hotā hai chaman meñ dīda-var paidā

I understand the meaning of gratitude now.

May a thousand daffodils bloom in the ochre sky.