Thursday, July 24, 2008

Favourite Things















Trying to think of beautiful things. Don't want to be a Pollyanna 'thinkhappythoughtsandbegood' sort of person. But just want to remember the beautiful things of life. Amidst the debris around.

Things that are a joy to the skin, to touch and remember:

Soft silky things. Rough tough things. So many: Petals of flowers - today it was alamanders and frangipani. Silks that rustle. Fur of kittens. Skin. Satin. The feel of the rug under the feet. The roughness of beach sand inbetween your toes. The breaking of sea waves over your legs and sometimes over you. The feel of hard wood that is smooth and polished. The feel of the bark of a tree that is silk smooth but unpolished. The texture of leaves. A baby's grip on your finger. The licking tongue of a puppy smelling of milk and puppiness. The inexpressible comfort of being held by someone you love. The reassurance of a hug. The softness of a kiss. The velvety warmth of a horse's nose.

Colours that are a feast to the eyes:
Cinnamony white (someone I know insists that Cinnamon is not a colour). Wine red of a sari. Soft blue of the sky. Lemony green of the newly washed lawn. Yellow of the frangipani, orangey brown of alamander. Gold of skin. Blackness of newly washed hair. The glitter of clay colours on pebbles. Shiny grey of the polished floor. Browny, orangey, reddy bits of the new bracelet. The neon white flash of lightning splitting the sky. The rainbow spanning the grey. The clouds lit up with the proverbial silver or gold lining. Sparkling pinpoints of the diamond. The splendourous clouds of the sunset skies.

Smells that drift around and creep into your senses, that evoke poignant memories:
Freshly cooked rice drifting from next door. Newly brewed coffee early morning. Freshly baked bread when walking past a bakery. Chocolate when it is being unwrapped. Mint from the springy mint leaves. Frangipani from the large twisted trees. Jasmine from the bushes around. The scent of rain fresh on dry ground. Mown grass drying in the sun. Gardenia from the garden. The smell of a loved one particularly distinctive. The fragrance of skin. The scent of sandalwood when having a shower. The smell of linen freshly sunned after being washed with fragrant soap. The smell of christmas cake baking. The fragrance of cloves drying in the garden. The scent of the coffee flowers that drifts into the room. Burnt sugar with its caramelised fumes. Strawberries when you bite into them. A baby newly bathed and powdered. The milky smell of puppy yawns. The scent of lilies blossoming. The Queen of the night - Atteriya - drifting across large spaces in the late night times.

Tastes that comfort, awaken, shock, delight:
Red rice, Del curry, dry fish, and pol sambol.Bagels and cream cheese with smoked salmon.Coffee. Ambarella curry, mango curry. Mango pickle - freshly cut with chillie and salt. Pineapple. Peppers in Olive Oil. Salad made out of sundried tomatoes in olive oil, mango, mozarella cheese and sprinkles of smoked salmon. Coconut and pineapple smoothie. Dark chocolate with mint. Cashewnuts. Sharon fruit. Fish baked in foil with herbs and butter. A dark polos curry that takes hours to cook correctly. The fresh minty flavour of after brushing teeth. The savoured taste of a kiss. Almond icing. Chocolate eclairs. Sweet sugar cane...chewed to pulp. Chicken unhealthily cooked in coke. The tastes of mangoes - Kartha kolomban, gira amba, beti amba, and all the other varieties. Avacado salad. Mustard that stings the eyes and throat. Horseradish. Ginger beer. Marshmallows toasted.

The myriads of sounds around that swiftly pass:
the beating of the waves, the rush, the crush and thunder of the water arriving on the sand. The cooing of a dove. The gurgling laughter of children. The whistle of a bird with varying notes of trilling, and whistling and piping. The Beat of drums that excite the blood and hammer out rhythm into the atmosphere. The grandeur of thunder. The swish and flow of rain through the air as it approaches. The dub dub of a heart. The softness in tender words spoken. The low voice of passion. The Song of a clear unaffected singer. The notes of a violin. The poignancy of music heard from a room far away drifting down a stairway. The Cry of a night bird as it flies past. The chirping of cicadas. The chirrup of a gecko scuttling for its titbit that is scuttling across the ceiling. The sound of a shower tinkling on the roof beating tattoos of diverse rhythms. The sound of low voices that are loving and happy. The soft muted whisper of love that finds words difficult. The excited tones of children at play. The cheeping of newly hatched ducklings gathering around like school kids.

Oh there are so many good things in this world dear God...Give me grace to see the beautiful and the precious things. Despite the pain, the struggles, the betrayals, the hurtful, the murderous, the diabolic, the dangerous, the uncertain...amidst all these and more....give me grace to rejoice in the gift of life itself.


1 Comments:

At 1:46 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

looking very nice and informal site. i like it.

 

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