At the cost of sounding obnoxious

Here is a list of my favourite 'writes' so far ... [ yeas , they are all mine ] I'm quite proud of them , and I hope you are lucky enough to understand the essence of my thoughts , in them [ oh dear , so very very obnoxious ... pardon me ]

1. A letter to St Valentine

2. My Last Dance

3. Earth Hour

4. Remember Ruby

5. A letter from a mother to her daughter , on her 16th birthday

6. The sinking of the Titanic [ this is a favourite favourite , if you know what I mean ]

7. One night in the labour ward

8. Dance of Fire

9. Daddy's Little Girl [ very much ]

10. You

11. If I had the Freedom to do whatever I want ....

12. The Rain in Spain , is falling on the Plains

13. A letter from this Girl to That Special Boy

14. 7.30 am

15. The Bai Bonanza - a true story

Whew , thats a long list .... but I'm afraid I haven't updated in a while ... but soon , very soon .... monsoons are here again and its chai and pakoda time at home with family and friends , and yeah , studying .. yuck ... , whatever , I best get back to my books now so that when I return , I'll feel like I've earned a break :)

A Letter to St Valentine

Dear Cupid ,
Its 2011 and I'm 23 years old . Also on your very special day , I'm sitting in my dorm room typing away a letter to you ......
I've always believed in you , still do , and forever will .... so why does life have to be unfair about something that is dearest to my heart ? I've let go of so many souls, thinking , that in the name of love, it is the best thing to do , if it doesn't match yours. I think I may have found the one that may be mine , wholely and solely mine , my life , my universe , my everything ......... But I have a deep seated fear, a fear so great, that I choose to voluntarily ignore it , that it may already belong to someone else . And That will be my undoing .
I'm a bit weary of doing the right things - to sacrifice your own happiness for someone you love , I've done that a million times before, you see . I wonder if being selfish will actually work this time ? The thought takes away a bit of beauty from a world which is suppose to be infinite perfection . I wonder if I was wrong about it. That something so beautiful just cannot be so perfect , that maybe it needs a thorn to make it real.
Its been 23 years of celebrating your day for you , all alone . I want to believe that I have done enough right things, to not have me to redeem myself for it . So why am I alone today, dear cupid ? What do you want me to do more, so that I find what I need to ? Every year the same wish is made ... will you grant me this honour of having this soul linked to mine , forever ?
Everlastingly yours,
Eve.

My Last Dance

And when the sun rises again,

the new day will commence, Without you by my side,

My life,my Universe,my everything Will be,

My Last dance of Innocence

For Ruby's Family

I'm neck deep in work at the moment , so inspiration to write an amazing blog entry is seriously lacking .... I know its been happening a lot recently , but it will be over - soon . Till then I'l leave you with a letter I sent to Ruby's family , as a part of a scrapbook we made for her family - from all over the world . Some part of the letter is similar to what I've posted earlier , but thats only because I wrote the letter before the blog ! Lots more good stuff coming up later  !:)

For Ruby’s Family ,

Ruby inspired all of us , all over the world. She showed us how to face life and struggles. I have never truly met anyone like her. I never really knew her , or talked to her . All I had was 140 characters a day and Ruby’s blog and her jokes , and her voice – the youtube video , but I felt as if I’d known her all my life . I am a 22 year old girl, a final year medical student from India . When we all join medical college , we feel brave that we are taking up a profession which saves people’s lives , helps them heal , but over the years , when we meet our patients , we understand  that it is not us , but our patients , their families and their friends who are the real brave and courageous people . They are the ones who are responsible for making our profession a noble one .

I know that we may not be able to bring Ruby back , but if we continue to tell the world to Remember Ruby , She will be kept alive in our hearts.

I may stay 5000 miles away , I may not ever meet anyone who knew Ruby well , but I know , that one day , I will tell my kids, Ruby’s Story ……..

 

Lots of Love ,

Aartee,

Mumbai

EARTH HOUR

We sat crosslegged
on little fibre mats
placed on our terrace floor ,
Big candles lit up the night
for us,
sending a warm glow to all ,

All the loving faces I knew
looked even more beautiful
in that soft light,
better than the harsh glare
of the artificial bright

People talked in soft voices,
laughed cheerfully
sang and danced around
the bonfires that lit up,
the city skyline
over the towering heights

Grandfathers played with babies
and grandmothers told stories,
placed her sweethearts on her knees,
and told long forgotten fables and wins
Mothers sat with Fathers - who knows after when ? ...

Sisters and brothers talked
and hugged,
Friends came over,
General merriment was in the air

Old ties were remade
fights forgotten,
New ties were forged,
to ripen over the years

Old love was given away
Hearts were healed,
New love made its way
Back to earth's beings

I saw the faces soften 
and wrinkles disappear
from peoples' faces,
people so young- the wrinkles
should never have been there,
I saw the tides of stress
ebbing away, as the 
hour grew old,
I saw the warmth of the fire
enter everyone souls

To go back to
how the world should
always have been,
even for an hour,
Did it take so much
to change something so little,
little enough to
change all that we always desired ?

Couldn't Earth Hour come 
more often?
So that Fairies and elves
pixies and godmothers
could come again,
and make the magic flow
in our veins ......

Remember Ruby

I know I said a good post was coming fast , but sadly it didn't happen  ... instead I have to post a memorial text for Ruby .

Who's Ruby , you may ask . I have to be honest , when someone asks me that , a righteous indignation rises up inside me  ... How can you not know Ruby . I'll tell you who she was ... Ruby was a 17 year girl living in South Hampshire, England United Kingdom . I never met her .I never talked to her .

But that is exactly how beautiful Ruby was ... She could be 10000 miles away from you, and still touch our heart . She could be dying of a deadly disease and still have the world's biggest sense of humour  ... She loved jokes , did I tell you that ... she really loved them ... When she was in the hospital , we emailed her some and her Twin Brother or her Mum printed these off the computer and read them to her . That is how we knew her - 140 characters every few hours ... but that sounds harsh - we knew her better ....

Ruby was a wonderfully strong person . She showed us a different way of looking at struggles in life . Yes she was Human , and it must have hurt her too ... She may have cried a few good tears ..... But she held her head up and walked on .

Towards the end , when she was really sick , she sat down with her friends , and told them her decision to stop chemotherapy ... Ruby's words " There is a big difference between Giving Up and Letting Go " .....

Ruby's donated her eyes .. Did you know that ... She given them to a girl in USA who was born Blind ... She will see her world now , through Ruby's eyes .......

Even though I never met her , Ruby has made such a big impact on my life . I know , from the bottom of my heart and soul , that one day when I snuggle up to my Son or my Daughter , on a lovely Spring Afternoon , I shall be telling them , Ruby's Story ......

I know it is unfair and possibly cruel to have someone else's work on your blog .... but mine has been empty for a while , so I think I better put up a good post really fast ! A nice poem by John Keats !:)

To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, 
   Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
   With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
   And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
       To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
   With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
       For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
   Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
   Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
   Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
       Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
   Steady thy laden head across a brook;
   Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
       Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
   Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,--
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
   And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
   Among the river sallows, borne aloft
       Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
   Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
   The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
       And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

P.S. New Post coming soon I Promise !:) xxx