Snow upon me…

man and woman in white dress and suit
Photo by Jonathan Borba on Pexels.com

Snow upon me,

like covering me from outside

like a shield protecting me;

all I enjoy is the shower of love you

pour upon me;

as i close my eyes;

i feel the warmth of your breath,

closer to my skin..

burning my skin,

melting away all the shields I held upon;

and then you snow upon me;

like cladding me in your skin;

and we become one, like no one else.

 

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The rhythm of the waves

man and woman walking of body of water
Photo by Asad Photo Maldives on Pexels.com

Filing my hearts,

are just the thoughts of you,

you fill in me, like numerous stars

lighting up the sky,

all I wanna do is swim across your waves.

feeing the rhythm of it on my skin

whispering the rhythm of love.

a song that makes me and you alone.

when the waves whisk on my skin,

reminding me of your embrace,

I feel the tickling that awakens every hidden treasure in me.

and I just crumble in, to let the waves into me.

reciting the best song of love

for you and me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SoulRecitals

Like the anklets, I remain close to the feet

reflection of woman s eye on broken mirror
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I may look broke,

I have mended myself like a number of times..

like a broken anklet,,

I make a feeble sound,

unknown to ears that are familiar with my face..

like  a broken string I kept breaking away,

twitching my inner peace of mind,

but, I just remained a piece of decor in anyone’s life.

all I did was shine bright, amidst my dusted roads…

like a fluorescence lighting up the whole world around me,,

but still left to remain close to those feet, than their hearts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SoulRecitals

The struggled time I stepped out of my shell

close up of nut shell
Photo by Right Light on Pexels.com

 

It was a cold winter afternoon. In a new place with nothing in hand but my own little baby, I was like stuck I felt. It was just a few days back we arrived in a foreign country which I was not at all familiar with.

My home was a small service apartment, unlike the ones in India, the floor was dim-lit, no other doors or even noise outside. My floor had hardly two other apartments like mine. I was not sure , what to be done, I got dressed up, as I had nothing at home. And my ultimate aim was to get some food- a new place, unknown location, blank about the locality or currency or exactly what to buy.

I got dressed up, like always,  got my kid ready, took the money and necessary items in my hand. Since it was wintertime, we had to be clad in jackets. I opened the door, looked left and right… it’s all empty… I closed the door and came and sat on the bed, which was the only other furniture I had in the room. I looked at her,  as I didn’t have any around to talk to. I kept asking my 7-month-old girl , who could barely speak.

It took me some time to realize and gather up all my energy and courage to walk out of that door. Finally, I approached the lift, went down. The next hurdle was to get the baby stroller, baby and myself out of the apartment. Since there, were few steps ( yea,  7 outside the glass door to reach the pavement) I had no option to carry the baby on the stroller on to the steps up to the pavement. I stood there, thinking. Then finally I let the baby be inside and then walked out to keep the stroller up and then came down to pick my kid.

Trust me, It was so painful to place my kid on the ice-cold floor (even though completely jacketed) and walk out. Since it was the first time for me, it literally scared the hell out of me.

Finally, we both were out and ready to walk.

Strangely, I didn’t know where the store was put up. But all I did was gather up all my courage to walk down the street. The roads were barely crowded. I kept talking to my baby, that I was scared but we need milk and mommy has no other option.

We reached the store, purchased whatever I could find, then the next was the struggle on how much money I had. Luckily I had enough to buy my things. Then happily, like I just climbed the Everest kind of accomplishment, I walked out of the store.

It was the first time, ever I escaped a panic attack.

Yeat, not forgetting- I literally had touch time to take my things inside the apartment. Like I did earlier, I took my child inside first, then the things- its all about priority right folks!!

This was indeed the first time , I managed on my own in a foreign country without anyone’s help.

The moment I entered back into my cozy space, I was so proud of my self. Even though I sound filmier to you.

 

 

 

The days I want to re-live

back view photo of a woman in black sleeveless top carrying a toddler
Photo by Flora Westbrook on Pexels.com

Recently, I had a reminiscence moment when I visited my neighbor.

To remind you, I am mostly quite reluctant to take other babies. Call it my worry that I might lead the baby to cry or maybe because I overthink a lot about not handling the baby ( in spite of being a mother twice). I recall having this problem from the very beginning and it did subside a little when I actually held my cousin’s little baby back when I was in 9th standard.

Basically, in short, I was reluctant to take any baby. Most often I have avoided. People might look at me strangely, but oh,, I have never been bothered about it.

When I held my neighbor’s child, in my arms. I was not actually looking at her- but all I was wandering through those momentous time , when I first held my daughters in my arms. It went in my head like a quick recap.

First 9 years back, the moment I held my first one, and when she grows up suddenly, then finally my little one in my arms. To the yawning baby in my arms, all  I could reciprocate was a smile, which was the aftereffect of the fondest memory drive I had.

It was fun, even if it was short-lived.

Even though I had been through those moments, I just felt like re-living them again. To witness, they sleep, eat, grow, smile everything… I just don’t want to miss it for anything in the whole world.

Growing old seemed like a swift journey with kids around. Until then, everything seemed to be slow, but with them along, time began to slip away from my hands.

All I get is these moments to hold on for a lifetime as a mom. Perfect or not, All I want is them – my daughters my heaven.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Soul Recitals

 

 

 

Making an imprint of me here before I turn into ashes….

Alice Genes

Freelance Writer and Editor

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