Simple Joys

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I remember being interested in finding all colorful flowers and plants to decorate my yard. As a school going girl, I would try getting all the plants that I read about in books to plant in our front yard. There are still some flowers that I planted decade ago  and it was same old plants that remind me the joy of gardening which I had stop doing for more than just some years.

This was some 2 months ago and I did some plantation after that, actually collection of different twigs and branches and roots of different flowers and decorative plants and planted them. I planted them hoping a full blossom white and yellow flower in my yard. But because of the soil quality(I think), no plants was able to grow properly, ultimately died, somehow surviving were cruelly uprooted by the builder. There were some common flower plants that I hopelessly plant in the earthen pot and place them in the balcony. The unproductive effort in the garden had made me feel a bit low, I felt ridiculously unlucky and unworthy to not even care a plant. The pot plant had not been much hope with it’s pigmented leaves and dry stems. However, I try to water it whenever I see it, wishing to make it bloom, not hoping though.

 Then, today I notice that the pot plant has developed flower buds, not just one but two pot plants. The pink buds please my eyes instantly. The joy was precious. The plant itself didn’t look healthy, leaves decaying and drying yet the plant did its best to survive the adverse. The joy was fulfilling.  But it is not the joy of seeing a flower, a common flower seen in almost every house in the neighborhood. It isn’t a difficult plant to grow as well but it gives a sense of satisfaction, and a smile. Did I make it bloom? No, it is not the joy of that either. It blooms in my pot, in my house. It blooms to beauty. It light my heart for the moment.

A rope of hope
I love making garlands. I like picking pretty flowers and sew them in one thread. I don’t make garlands often but when I do, it is a pleasure art for me. Somehow it is linked with spiritual aspect for me. Sewing each flower with care and making a chain of it and often offered to god, it just gives me a sense of optimism. The soft petals into a flower, flower in a chain and ultimately tied in a loop, a garland is collective but one. It symbolizes hope, it symbolizes humbleness.

Light of hope:
I am spiritual by religion, Hindu by ritual. I believe in god and I don’t understand the concept of relating (or biasing) God with religion. I can’t quite understand the concept of different gods governing one earth, one human race. Anyway lets not get into one religion, I am a confused mind already. But yes, Alah or jesus, I know all as God.

As a believer in god, I have certain inclination to spiritual practices, much too ritualistic behavior. We Hindu have a lot of methods and procedure for worship. But one thing I find satisfaction with is to light “Diya”. A small yellow light in a small container makes me feel pleased in heart. A simple thing, small thing but gives a joy of enlightenment. It is not high voltage fluorescence, nor a strong flame, but a precious luminescence of itself.  It is ultimate form of my worship offering to God. It gives me sense of satisfaction, sense of completeness, sense of acknowledgment. I find it related to wisdom and hope. A light of wisdom eliminate the darkness of ignorance. I find the lighted “Diya” contemplating with the fact.

These small joys make me  happy. I don’t know if the word “Happy”  itself is fulfilling but it makes me feel as a devotee of spirituality and with my learning I find it much fulfilling to be a learner, a seeker, than an achiever. With taste of highs and lows of life, I have now realized the preciousness of such joys in life that gives us a feeling of contentment. May be bigger achievements bring arrogance alongside, simple joys touches soul. I can’t say it for others but for me; I have been so satisfied with the realization of power of simplicity and serenity.
For me these joys are meanings to moments. Life, is a moment of awakeness after all.

6 Pm

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The winter is already back in kathmandu (how soon). Not literally as it may still count to be a chilly autumn morning for all Nepalese counting days for Dashain and which by the way is officially started from today but my sense has felt the winter and do I have to tell you how depress that makes me. I feel like the cold will engulf me into a dark tunnel of time, lonely, alone, gloomy, uf uf uf………. (I hate  the feeling already).

The feeling strike me this evening. The 6 pm. Do you realize  how the 6 Pm of winter and summer differs. I mean, yeah obviously everyone knows the difference but does it amaze you like it does for me?

The summer 6 Pm, still bright with sun rays, its not yet dusk. Breezy ready to rest days, good off hour to get over the office works, schools or else where, perfect time to hangout, cafe’ and parks. My perfect moments; breeze in the upper balcony, the clear sky and all that colors amidst the rush of life.

6 Pm in summer, Tea time, gossip time, reading time or listening time. Its too early to decide on evening meal. 6 Pm is not late, its still day time in summer. I can walk the roads without worrying about being late to home. It is that flexible hour  to ramble, perfect time to get out of house for a walk or hangouts.

And in winter,

6 Pm is not just dusk, its already dark, the insects makes those horror sounds,  Loadsheding (6 out of 7 days) to add more darkness, gloomy crooked face with cold, that reflex of sense with touch of water and how i hate the shock soaking in some liquid in the  floor, How I suffocates inside the puffy jackets.
The hour is too late for employee to be in office, its too dark to walk in the street, more colder to think about it.

6 pm, I get inside the double layer of blankets, and yet I get the worst shiver, I feel like the cardiac gets the quake, my hands gets ice cold, the chill weakens me in my bones even after being buried inside layers of blankets and shocks and trousers and everything woolen.

Leave the general things, for me the dark gloomy winter brings depression alongside. I hate the feeling of sadness, that fear of losing people, company, friends, even the electricity.  I feel worried, tense. Anxiety kills me within. I feel like I reside in a shell with a pity face waiting for a warmth to hug me. I feel sad without knowing the reason, Why is the sunset so gloomy and only in winter? I can’t rejoice anything except the coffee sips, refilling it countless till it turns bitter to palate.  The nights are never ending. I wait the dawn  along with the empty, smelly, stained  coffee mugs but the chill, it  doesn’t allow you to see through the fog.

6 Pm in winter, No trace of Sun, hopeless nights, Dark.

The 6 Pm transit in two extremes phase of time,
its same round for a clock to complete,
but  difference of sun rays and moon light to notice.
Winter, I can whine about endless.

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