canarycallss

[canarycallss]

I'm unlearning everything I've ever known. I'm taking myself apart, piece by broken piece, and rebuilding, relearning everything. I'm learning to be myself again. I'm learning to let go. I'm learning to enjoy my morning tea, the cool breeze that whistles past and musses my hair, and the shapes of clouds. I'm learning joy and despair walk hand-in-hand towards the end. I'm learning to wait, to commit. I'm learning to collect pieces of myself, like a child on the look out for trinkets. I'm taking myself apart, piece by piece, and sealing it back with love.

[canarycallss]

I come from a land where Water flows through the souls of its dwellers. A land where we rise with the sun and go to rest long after he says goodbye. I come from a land where there is more water than there is soil, and the water is one with the soil and with our souls.

I come from Kerala. God's own country. Legend says that a livid Parashuram threw his axe into the waters deep, and summoned a reluctant stretch of land, unwilling to part with the ocean to whom it belonged. It is, to this day, reluctant to part with the water. So there it lay, bringing in all the water it can, creating a network of veins that flow through with life, entangled in the lives of its people, mirroring the rivers in their souls. A life without the flowing waters of the green-blue River, the gentle spray of the midday drizzle and the rhythm of her eager beat against the tile roofs, the echo of our rivers in the sky, is but death to a Malayalee. So it is for me.

Every monsoon, when the Southwest winds rage against our coast, our people delight. The dark clouds on our horizon are but a sigh of relief, a harbinger of Hope. It is the last season in our calendar. It is the death of a year. And yet, monsoon is the season of rebirth and renewal. Monsoon is the season when Death meets Hope, and she brings forth Life.

It is perhaps the season when life is at its fullest. There is joy everywhere. The patter of rain is the beat in our chests. And there is no other time to be one with everything. To be one with death and life and rebirth. With the end and the beginning and the in-between.

[canarycallss]

y'all ever be so sleep deprived that the world randomly turns black and white for a few consecutive seconds and there are unicorns swimming through the clouds

[canarycallss]

so today I watched as my friend got out of the bus, she was smiling and waving and suddenly there was this little pause where my heart seized and time stopped and I was two years or twenty years in the future. In that little gap of time between seconds i saw the way this would end, how life would happen and it will take her away from me and how this won't last. The way she laughed easily at my bad puns, how we'd discuss the most irrelevant things and find serious solutions to silly problems that won't even exist the next day. In that split second, it was so obvious, the fleeting nature of everything that made up our existence. There was a sudden heaviness somewhere in my chest and my heart tried to claw it's way out to her but found that it can't and that it has to prepare for the sadness of separation and then saw that there was so much love to be given and so little time. All we have is now, such a simple, obvious, thing and we often get caught up in tomorrow to see life as it is happening. There's so much love to be given, and so little time.

[canarycallss]

Pinterest and Tumblr single handedly destroying and rebuilding my mental health be like :