Que Sera Sera

“Whatever will be, will be..

the future’s not ours to see..

Que Sera Sera”

One of the most popular chart-busters of the 1950’s by Doris Day, could not have been more evident as for today.

I crisply remember this song being taught back in the cherished school days in our music lesson classes and our beautiful music teacher swaying her head, while her dainty fingers danced on the black and white bold keys of the piano, stimulating modest auditorium of little girls who could just barely be patient to sing the chorus.

Oh, I just wish if we could sing the chorus in the same spirit even today as matured adults!

I was doing the dishes the other day, with millions of thoughts patrolling my mind asking questions and searching for feasible pacifying answers when an old chord struck me like a jolt. And it was the chorus of this beautiful song, “Que Sera Sera”.

I washed and dried my hands in excitement, asking the patrol to take some rest and the very next moment I couldn’t help but play the music loud on You Tube and gazed outside the window feeling somewhat contented.

I love how the questions transition along the phases of our life but never end, even though they are wished to vanish at some point or other.

Soaking in the lyrics, I reminisced the unbreakable bonding that I shared with my mother as a young girl who simply followed her like her tail with endless questions, a teen who kept asking her for beauty advice, curious to know the world beyond the graduation ceremony, a young lady setting her steps to build her career, the woman looking forward to marry the man she loved and the one now, who still has plenty of questions for the life ahead of her. But ever since then and till the gist of our gossips today, she has had one common ground answer to all, “Don’t worry, you are a strong girl and everything will be just fine.”

I sat and smiled feeling perplexed, if my instinct to question was my natural curiosity or if it was her consolation that has always made me seek for comfort.

It is most certainly a mother’s strength to retain her patience year after year, irrespective of distances and inopportune situations, that she never fails to soothe her children with her magical support.

It is also so undeniably true, that no matter how hard we want or try to control, “whatever will be, will be and the future’s not ours to see”. We spend most of our lives thinking of the ‘tomorrow’ and the joys of the ‘present’ just slip by, unnoticed and unappreciated. There is absolutely nothing that we can achieve by pining for a better ‘tomorrow’ unless we prepare ourselves and act for a conscience and a kinder ‘today’. Because even though we cannot see, there ought to be far more better things that lie ahead of us than where we might have been or where we may feel stranded at the moment. After-all, we are the only artist of our lives and it is we alone who have the liberty to fill strokes of our most desired colors.

If you have been having a hard time or even if you are lucky not to go through one, please spare some time to savor and indulge yourself in these wise, classic lyrics.  https://youtu.be/SdhAfMor9BM

Thank you so much Doris Day for giving us this piece for our heart♥

Feature Image By: Tom Ezzathkhah

In the “Becoming”

Insignificant and tiny is how I have arrived upon my existence. Unaware of what surrounds me, my silent senses are still alive. I can feel the air that breathes into me, the light that shines upon me and hear the voices permeating into me. I am static and at rest.I want to respond and react but I am confined and fastened by my destiny and life. I hold on and crawl within myself by every second that my breath counts for and yet nothing is seen.

You watch me like an insignificant entity, like am no more of purpose by reason or relevance. I look up to you, for you pass by me, unnoticed. I call and I look out, but am still too small, veiled and insignificant to be appraised. My voice is bleak, and audible only to me.  All this while, I pull my self together and move in camouflage in fear of being crushed as my limbs are still feeble but with a spirit that is marginally stronger. I do not appeal to the world by what beauty defines. But do I know, for I haven’t had a chance to see myself in a mirror that shows me my truest colors?

Nothing now is what I choose to have, but I comply since survival teaches me to do so. I am brave and intimidated at the same time. But can I exhibit what I feel? The world around me sees only that, what shows and not beyond. Although, I wish it could. The course of nature weathers me, sometimes weak and sometimes stronger than I could have ever imagined for myself. I am persistent that I would never loose my ground and one fine day,see the world from my very own vision. I have days when the skies are crisp, clear and blue and also those that are gloomy and cold. Yet I manage to survive and keep breathing.

However, I feel maybe my time has now come. Maybe, my ongoing existence isn’t of any further relevance to any of my passerby and mediocrity shall no longer be a part of me. I crib, I sulk and unhesitatingly choose to change the course of my river. I now choose for seclusion and solitude as  great historic men did. I begin to prepare and become one that is over and above of pity and dejection and seek for, the one last shelter. Now hidden from this customary world I choose to weave my own cocoon of infinite dreams and incubate my body and soul, to believe into ‘My Becoming’.

Hours and days pass by as the world around me continues to spin. But unaware of the outwardly adventures I continue to weave my dreams around me,the ones that I now choose to be mine. Acquiring them have never been like what it might have just seemed, but my transformation has just begun. And for whatever it takes, I would not stop. My feeble legs now seem to be strong and I begin to feel the gush of power and mysticism of beauty. I haven’t seen the mirror, yet I find refinement in my being and am truly relishing every bit of it. The strength in me is so profound now that I can hardly remember to crawl the path from where I began. And now, I know my time has come. I spread my wings for the first time and flap. The air  beneath empowers me. I ponder and pause and I flap again. This time, I choose to fly and look back only for recognition and esteem and embrace the sun in its truest spirit.

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I trembled as I soared my first flight and see a broader dimension of what only seemed too distant and in the spur of the moment I catch the first glimpse of an onlooker that is of awe and admiration.A glance like I had never seen before. “What is different now, that wasn’t before, that the eyes of sympathy and irrelevance now seemed to have changed.”  Flowers and fragrances now greet me and what I have at my disposal is not dust but a banquet of nectar. Just when I thought I was nothing but mundane, life has offered me with a burst of colors and wings to uplift my spirit and without a piece of glass, I know  from this very moment, I am what the world calls beautiful  because the world then chose to be my mirror and I chose to be the butterfly that the world chases.

“You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar. ” – Trina Paulus

The Ceaseless ‘Wheel’

There has been so much going on lately. Over the last few months, things have been changing, for good or for bad, so rapidly. And with all this constant change ushers constant chaos and confusion as we claim to be part of a civilized yet a very complicated society.

Even as I commute on the bustling streets of Hyderabad, amidst the crazy and somewhat mindless traffic I also tend to witness the rapidly growing sky risers and all that is eternally left behind.

With an array of eateries and fine dining restaurants, are even more glorious gyms with huge bay style windows that exhibit all the needed equipment, promising one, that their output would be well justified to the chunk of membership that goes into them with so much faith, at the beginning of every month. The other half of the city is in a way preoccupied with start ups and multinational software companies, leaving the Non-IT  skilled community, of which I am too a member, on endless job hunts and dis-satisfactory turned downs.

So now that I am kind of  “privileged”  with more time at hand, I amaze myself to  interpret the vicious circle or rather cycle on which we practically run like how we have witnessed the less intellectually fed white mouse, running aimlessly yet exhaustively on its classic wheel. We seem to always be on the rush, irrespective of being beyond, on or after schedule. We sit all day freezing our rear ends and draining our grey cells to earn a considerably fat or undernourished paycheck, still yearning for more and yet, here is just the beginning.

Identical to the little mouse on the  wheel, are the very commonly “us”, who rides on the treadmill in that glorious gym, facing the huge glass window to the hustling and hasty street, feeling accomplished of a fitness regime onlooking those who aren’t. On the other hand, to keep bay from the monotony of  the hectic routines and the motivation to attend the famed gyms,all that we escape to, whether with family, friends or in solidarity, are the eateries whose menu is  generally heavier with figures on the right  as compared to its worthy entree glorified at the other end.

In the end all that we tend to bottom down to is the run, on our ceaseless wheel, with a prime catalyst that evolves around the life dedicated to the aspiration of a moderately fat pay check dedicated to kill the underlying monotony with comforting gourmets powerfully backed up by the contentedness that the annual membership account would take care of the rest until yet another weekend would arrive.

I wonder if we could pause and un-mute ourselves for a while and see how the huge glass doors have disguised us, that the simplest and everlasting joys underlay in the small things we do and the bigger impacts we leave because its ultimately its not about the quantity but the quality that counts end of the day.

The Felicity of Monsoons

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There is something so beautiful that appeals to me about the monsoons in India. For the starters, I love the smell of the wet soil with the first few showers of rain. After a scorching and terrible summer heat wave, the rendezvous of the  grey plush clouds spread over the blue skies is like a long tried painting that finally turns successful.

The dance of the trees to the tune of breeze, the leaves in their truest colors after they are washed off all the dust and the smoke, the little birds taking a fluttering bath in the small puddles and a smile that runs across everyone’s face is Monsoon in India.

Continue reading “The Felicity of Monsoons”

The Priceless Freedom

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Over the years of growing up, I have realized my profound love for birds and animals. Mere watching them play in their own amazing innocent ways have always excited me. I just feel like being a part of their merrymaking. I know it sounds a little crazy here but I am pretty sure that like minded friends would second my feelings.

Seeing this ultimate fascination of mine, I remember my aunt gifting me a cage of 4 love birds, 2 beautiful pairs in yellow and white. That seemed to be one of the happiest days to me. With overcoming my health issues and the restrictions on outdoor play time, that seemed to be the gift, my aunt thought would keep me busy and smiling.Well, she wasn’t really wrong in her own ways.

Continue reading “The Priceless Freedom”