SK wrote this for Sasha on her birthday. I found it so beautiful I wanted to share it.
As life, like a spider, has weaved around me
a cobweb of relationships
your friendship comes unconditionally
no strings attached
I have worked so hard to be heard,
learning languages to make myself understood
and you say everything without a word
in your magical, unspoken, optical language
And as I struggle to find meaning,
happiness and self-actualisation,
Here you are - happy with your bones,
stuffed toys and your family.
Thank you for being so basic, you are my anchor...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
grey matters to me
Look around you in the urban milieu and it is likely that you will see very few grey heads. You may sight shades of brown, red, orange, purple, blonde, golden streaks, bald pates, and the ubiquitous black but rarely grey.
As my grey began becoming noticeable, I had many friends suggest that I should start coloring my hair. “You will look younger”. Many asked me whether I was depressed. They thought I was disinterested in my appearance hence this speculation.
I said, "I am forty – am I not entitled to a few grey strands for all the experience and wisdom I have gained? The grey has not come without a price. It is more than what you have paid for that which is available on the shelves of the supermarket or the beauty parlors."
As I touched fifty, I proudly sported an Indira Gandhi – like band on the left side and definitely more salt than pepper all over. “At least do something now – you look so old”, said a few courageous friends.
Look old – but am I not old? Is it something bad? Should I be ashamed? Do I have to hide behind coloured hair? I find that with increasing grey I am addressed with greater respect, people offer to carry my bags, offer seats in crowded places, do not interrupt while I am talking (or hyperventilating), and few dare to take liberties with me. I am sure my grey hair has a lot to do with this. I can vouch for the fact that what one lacks in grey matter can be reasonably covered with grey hair. Try it. I for one am proud to be grey.
As my grey began becoming noticeable, I had many friends suggest that I should start coloring my hair. “You will look younger”. Many asked me whether I was depressed. They thought I was disinterested in my appearance hence this speculation.
I said, "I am forty – am I not entitled to a few grey strands for all the experience and wisdom I have gained? The grey has not come without a price. It is more than what you have paid for that which is available on the shelves of the supermarket or the beauty parlors."
As I touched fifty, I proudly sported an Indira Gandhi – like band on the left side and definitely more salt than pepper all over. “At least do something now – you look so old”, said a few courageous friends.
Look old – but am I not old? Is it something bad? Should I be ashamed? Do I have to hide behind coloured hair? I find that with increasing grey I am addressed with greater respect, people offer to carry my bags, offer seats in crowded places, do not interrupt while I am talking (or hyperventilating), and few dare to take liberties with me. I am sure my grey hair has a lot to do with this. I can vouch for the fact that what one lacks in grey matter can be reasonably covered with grey hair. Try it. I for one am proud to be grey.
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