Dreams

MIRAI

Mixed Fiction

Mirai o Mirai, where are you? You cannot hide for long.

Mirai o Mirai, I will find you.

**Flying in the past and future simultaneously.**
**©Studio Chizu**

Those childhood days gone by, gone by in playing, playing hide and seek, ice-water and cycling, cycling all day long like a crazy fool and laughing, those childhood days gone by eating candies and ice creams, hopscotching and skipping ropes, flying kites, strolling aimlessly, gazing at the sky, merry minds flying high, those childhood days are now a dream.

I remember, I still do, Aru and I were sitting, Pinti was roaming around as always; Aru was talking non-stop, sharing one of her charming stories, a feature film story I must mention – our protagonist, a little girl, the best detective in the town, begins her quest, she is looking for some stolen bright precious stones – we paused the story and went to play hopscotch with Pinti, she had re-drawn the rectangle-y pattern for us, sweet Pinti, we talked and played, then followed the clouds, just when we were about to get hold of the moody clouds, they turned and shouted, “peek-a-boo.”

We screamed and ran back, but could not out-do the rain bullets. And then… then we guffawed and danced in the rain, I remember.

Those childhood days gone by were full of dreams, dreams of the future, pocket full of adventure and sweets and joy and endless playtime… those dreams were of the future, a hidden gold chest…

Through those dreams we time travelled and blushed, knowing well that we have to wait a bit before we discover this treasure… we treasured the future and waited.

Those childhood days gone by, what a sweet melody… the future we still dream of, what a happy idea…

And what is left is the present, this very moment – quiet, true, rudely true, factual and boring, but euphoric if grasped and powerful enough to change everything, the past as well as the future.

Take the golden thread I say, take it and chart the course, know that it will not break for it is tied to you, you of the past and you of the future.

Mirai is a Japanese animation film written and directed by Mamoru Hosoda.

A truly beautiful and emotional film, it is a must-watch for it is a piece you need to get hold of to solve this jigsaw puzzle called life. It is beautiful!

**Solving the life-puzzle in Mirai style is the best style.** **©Studio Chizu**

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The Journey

Posted on October 7, 2017 by Jagriti Rumi Auroville Bicycles Clouds Colours Dreams Earth Fire Hourglass Music Sky The Journey Water Wind

A Poet’s Travelogue

Amongst the clouds… yes, this is how the journey began. Mushy clouds, mushy dreamy clouds all around her. Whether she walked or the white dreams floated around her isn’t something the music ever revealed.

The music was busy playing and she was busy colouring. The sky and earth colours participated and turned rich.

Meanwhile, in a parallel universe, someone took a flight, landed, took a cab, halted for a coffee break, laughed with her friend and continued the road trip.

Warm waves of velvety starry blanket covered the existence and hushed those who listened to the happy silence. She stayed awake for a while just to witness it all. A simple melodious note filled her ears and she swam to sleep.

That someone talked to her friend, they ate pastries and called it a day. That someone, with ‘oh’ look, got up to brush her teeth and then went to bed. Phew!

She opened her eyes, awakened the self and stepped out to see the end of a long search. Birds and buds, earth’s aroma and touch, giant trees’ humble smiles, the sun’s vocals and the wind’s compositions, other human beings, all dancing, and of course, the bicycles… everything she laid her eyes on glanced back at her, welcomed and sang to her.

In Auroville, in a blissful place. [Images by Jagriti Rumi]

Tring, tring… tring, tring, she replied to them. Crossed leg sitting inside an apple she relished it, sweet, sour, juicy and fresh. When she jumped outside, she gave the left-over bit to a dog. Questioning her about nothing, the dog finished the apple.

Tring, tring… she went ahead and met a mathematician’s spirit, who gave her the map that took her to the grand golden lotus with twelve petals. Its beauty struck her hard and she kept standing there for ages in admiration.

Primary and secondary colours, in circles, pyramids and cylindrical shapes all passed by her. She blinked and found herself inside the grand golden lotus.

**The grand golden lotus!**
**Matrimandir, Auroville. [Image by Peter Anta from Pixabay]**

Earth, Fire, Wind and Water were there, she saw it, just a glimpse, but they were there in absoluteness. She blinked and she was back outside. Oh! The joy!

She danced all her way, lal-lal-lal-laaa, rotated and laughed, climbed the musical rainbow and listened to what the colours were playing and then surprised herself with her quiet self, quiet but not low, because her eyes were beaming and her soul still dancing.

By the hourglass the journey continued for that someone and her friend, click-click-click, pictures taken, tring-tring-tring on the cycle path, resting, eating and laughing.

That someone’s friend like a darling blue bird sang and danced… unable to resist she also joined her friend. Together they collected memories and both filled their hourglass with it.

Smart! Now time reminds them of those memories all the time.

**Auroville… the journey, the destination. [Source – eco-villages.eu]**

O journey, when did you start and when will you end?

O journey, can I stop and meet my friend?

The beginning is hazy, but true and the end will be a new beginning for you.

Don’t stop if you want to meet your friend, for she is on a journey too.

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Two Blind Crows

Posted on June 9, 2017 by Jagriti Rumi Alive Death Dreams Nowhere Question Story Two Blind Crows Window

Ra-ra’s famous window story.
[Image from Pixabay]

Ra-ra: Why did the window go SHUT… who closed it SHUT… my question is just HOW?

Ra-ra’s friend Coo stays quiet, looking absolutely nowhere.

Ra-ra: S-H-U-T shut, right when I was about to pick my share and leave…

Coo: I believe you, it has been so many years since you first told me this story.

Ra-ra: (astonished) Many years you say, gone nuts…? It happened an hour ago.

Ra-ra: Coo, this ain’t the time to argue.

Coo: A while? He died ages ago.

Coo: You’re standing fine, 900 years have passed.

Ra-ra: 900? I have come flying from the west port of Oraffa city just now.

Coo: Oraffa city? Hah! Blind dreams!

Ra-ra: How dare you? I can see very well… you can’t, you blind ugly funny-sounding bad crow!

Coo: I said blind dreams… didn’t call you blind.

Ra-ra: Oh, oh-my, then let me apologise.

Coo: For what? We are blind, the world knows it. Yet…

Ra-ra: Blind we are, yes, yes… very much… (mumbles).

Coo: I’ll complete my sentence… yet we are still alive.

Ra-ra: (flaps wings) Death sentence, I have been given a death sentence and yet I am alive.

Coo: Cool-cool yourself Ra-ra. We are together in this.

Ra-ra starts sobbing, mumbles again.

Coo: I am turning left.

Ra-ra: (softly) Left?

Coo: Turned.

Ra-ra: Wait for me!

Coo: Can’t.

Ra-ra: I think I also turned left unless it is the right, or it is somewhere in the middle, who knows.

Coo: Not me.

Ra-ra: (laughs) You’re funny!

Both Ra-ra and Coo stand quietly. Coo speaks after some time.

Coo: Hey Ra-ra, you never told me your famous window story.

Ra-ra: I didn’t? How come?

Coo: That’s the truth.

Ra-ra: Well, then listen… the window was SHUT before I could pick my share… someone just closed it SHUT…

The two blind crows talked facing what they thought was the left.

**Two Blind Crows**
**[Image by Santa3 from Pixabay]**

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The Moon Talks

Posted on December 18, 2016 by Jagriti Rumi Amen Blue Ocean Dreams Listeners Moon Mountains Night Sky Peaceful Stars The Moon Talks Window

**The moon’s blushing.**
**[Image from Pixabay]**

In its stillness the moon shines poetically and travels through the same old route and reaches the very many hearts of its listeners.

I believe in your dreams, your smiles and tears.

The wavy mountains make a marvellous backdrop for the moon to become brighter, where it meets the eyes of a lone survivor.

I walk along; I follow wherever you go.

Amongst the twinkling stars, the moon beams broadly and warmly at the free souls, the little ones.

Yes, you can do magic and hide me in your lotus fists.

Deep, true brush strokes attempts to take the moon’s magic and pour it in a canvas.

I blush, yes, all the while.

The night sky and the blue ocean together carry the moon’s palanquin, rhythmically and lovingly they move.

I take their colours and they take mine.

A curtain draws, a window opens up and someone, in the serene peaceful moonlight, says a prayer.

And I say amen.
– Moon

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What To Do?

Posted on October 2, 2015 by Jagriti Rumi Busy Life Destination Dreams Great Novel Mind Platform The Train of Thought Thoughts Travelling What To Do? Window

Literary Nonsense

The Busy Life (1953) by Jean Dubuffet
[Source – tate.org.uk]

The train of thought never stops, does it?

Standing on a vague platform, everything except me undergoes a peculiar kind of metamorphosis now and then. Bewildered, I stand in utter confusion, with a dazed expression and remain amusingly voiceless.

Waving madly for the train to halt or at least lazy down a bit, I am increasingly getting ascertained about the fact that either I am powerless or I am being considered as a crazy cheerleader.

Often, no, more than often, I have successfully boarded the train.

What happens then – settled quietly near the window, with a half-read great novel that I have tried to finish since one year, five months and two weeks, looking old and rich in my hands, I get lost in the dream world looking through the barred window; settled quietly near the window, with a notebook in front and a pen in my hand, I write down miraculous lines, tying down the strength to move the humanity and a saleable story together, staying humble myself throughout the reverie; settled quietly near the window, but loathing everyone around me and worshiping softly to reach my destination soon…

“My destination…” I say and I am kicked out of the train, back on that floating platform which dances every second on some idiotic tune and disturbs my balance.

I fall down, cry, raise questions, get answers, plan things and proudly compliment myself, with a touch of modesty of course.

And then what do I do? I go off to sleep. How much can the mind take? “So long, my friend”, says my mind and dozes off. Shut down! Power off!

Click!

Switch on and I am back on that platform. Trains have started passing me. I yawn, a full day of travelling to a gazillion places ahead.

Busy life, what to do?

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Etching It

Posted on August 25, 2015 by Jagriti Rumi Dreams Etching It Illusion Memories Rise

Poem

Landscape under Trees, etching by Paula Modersohn-Becker, c. 1902

Faded and alive

Like an honest illusion

Memories carrying weight

Equal to a feather’s

Delight. Happiness aloud

Heard in the background

Match the dreams

Flying hard, a scheme

Or a plan

To reach the end

Drifting and walking

Singing, not just talking

Open your eyes

See, smile and rise.

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Definition Destroys

Posted on March 9, 2014 by Jagriti Rumi Definition Destroys Dreams Macro And Micro World Mystery Rhymes Perfectly Sky Walking

I am walking, I am sky walking.

There are beautiful colours around me, pink mostly. Sometimes the softness in the atmosphere changes into wetness which after inhaling makes me happy and light.

I am also holding an umbrella, it is black in colour. I open it and I am dragged backwards by the musical wind. I am laughing and loving the moment. With my flying umbrella, I spin and float here and there like a leaf.

I always wanted to be a leaf, I am serene.

Keep dreaming, keep living, freely.
Image from Pixabay.

I read somewhere that ‘definition destroys’ and I think I believe in it. This is this and that is that has never worked for me, only feelings have.

Defining simplifies things, yes it does and makes things understandable, but it also makes things complex and difficult… all the definitions of the macro and the micro world does not help in resolving the problems, the inequality in the world.

Though necessary, it often becomes too confusing and an indigestible half-baked fact.

To define is to confine; actually, I don’t know but it rhymes perfectly and rings true.

I just hate it, this definition thing, the most when dreams are analysed so as to reach a definition. Please, let us keep our dreams as a mystery for the mystery on our smiling face in the sleeping state continues.

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I See You

Posted on November 24, 2013 by Jagriti Rumi Dreams Forever I See You Magic Memories Now Power Of Patience Silky

Where do I start I don’t know. There are so many memories and each time when I think of any particular one, a multitude of her personality traits leaves me overwhelmed.

Though, I am sure about one thing and it is about the end. I am sure that there is no end, there never was and never will be. Yes, she is not physically present here but I know she is everywhere. Silky!

My pet dog, my sister, my teacher, my baby, my Silky left me last year on this day, this month. And this whole year when she was not here, she was with me the most.

I met her in my dreams and I cuddled her and kissed her. She is so lovely and she is very happy. My mind allows me to cry but my heart laughs and tells me that she is right with me. And this leaves me laughing as well.

And my laugh tells me, Silky, that you are with me in me. Because that is you, spreading joy and love, that is you. And I thank you.

Words can certainly not express my feelings but can surely mirror some.

What are you? More than magic can define and less than facts will agree. You taught me what the power of patience can do. And it has done great things, silently. Your selfless love for everyone makes me wonder.

Who are you? A pair of excited eyes and one fluffy tail. Your wisdom confirmed it to me and my brother that you are a secret agent and that all the animals in the world are quietly working for peace.

How can you? Meditating day and night and each time glowing with intelligence. You had to hide from us but you wanted us to know and you did tell us but after you left. Very smart!

The answer is very simple. This is what you told us.

One part of me says that you left us too soon and one part of me meets you every now and then. Which one is right?

You told me that there is no wrong answer. You told me that there is one truth. You told me that blissfulness will prevail. You told me that I’ll smile.

I did smile. You were right. You are right. You are here, now and forever.

Please meet me when the time comes. Love you Silky!