12:30 pm in the winter sun. i return from the mirage of manhattan with a blender under my arm, with horse power equivalent to 3 subway rats dipping in full trot when the N races in through the tunnel.
the last couple of days have been spent in strumming on thoughts of how to continue this journey in fasting. the purpose of it slipped, like the ground below the elders, shoved past respect on the slick streets yesterday.
i was like alice again today, years after i fell through a hole in the park across the street, when my bhaiya's and i were being chased by the grey-pitbull of the guy with the smirk and handkerchief around his throat. i forgot the rumors about him when i fell and scraped my knees hands and cheeks. i didn't know what i was doing or where i was supposed to go from there. was the chase still happening? i scratched my head and found Alice's voice: “How puzzling all these changes are! I'm never sure what I'm going to be, from one minute to another.”
over a decade later my brother pondered my quandary with the woman i was talking to, and shared this:
“Alice: Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?
The Cheshire Cat: That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.
Alice: I don't much care where.
The Cheshire Cat: Then it doesn't much matter which way you go.
Alice: ...So long as I get somewhere.
The Cheshire Cat: Oh, you're sure to do that, if only you walk long enough.”
i'm hitting forks, one after another, roads crisscrossing at every nook, signs pointing in opposite directions like the scarecrow in the wizard of oz.
i am dorothy and the tinman, alice, and the smoking caterpillar, with questions that float like smoke through a hookah and remind me that i forgot where i started.
then a prayer and a moment of Quiet bring it all back, remind me before i begin to talk, before my mind rushes chaotically for to do's hurling through obstacles like jason bourne being chased by feds and cia hitmen. who's after me? where am i supposed to run to?
i forget again, and when i quiet, the inquisitive voice of the 11 year old girl that the mathematician, lewis carroll, fell in love with, returns like the rhyme of the ancient mariner, the investigation of living renews. the fast becomes clear and my purpose in doing it paves itself and i walk forward with my hair in patches and my walk as rooted as my dada and i realize i am mad, totally out of whack in my state of barely employed, barely scraping by, bothering only to cleanse, to reflect through these blogs, to pay homage to the trees down the block and watch my abbu and bhaiya and ammu do the same. i realize i was born into a family diseased by brokedom, with no sense of hustle, or money, but revolt and spirit and having people over for dinner and lunch and chai time. madness.
“But I don’t want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.
"Oh, you can’t help that," said the Cat: "we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad."
"How do you know I’m mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said the Cat, or you wouldn’t have come here.”
i was like alice again today, years after i fell through a hole in the park across the street, when my bhaiya's and i were being chased by the grey-pitbull of the guy with the smirk and handkerchief around his throat. i forgot the rumors about him when i fell and scraped my knees hands and cheeks. i didn't know what i was doing or where i was supposed to go from there. was the chase still happening? i scratched my head and found Alice's voice: “How puzzling all these changes are! I'm never sure what I'm going to be, from one minute to another.”
over a decade later my brother pondered my quandary with the woman i was talking to, and shared this:
“Alice: Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?
The Cheshire Cat: That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.
Alice: I don't much care where.
The Cheshire Cat: Then it doesn't much matter which way you go.
Alice: ...So long as I get somewhere.
The Cheshire Cat: Oh, you're sure to do that, if only you walk long enough.”
i'm hitting forks, one after another, roads crisscrossing at every nook, signs pointing in opposite directions like the scarecrow in the wizard of oz.
i am dorothy and the tinman, alice, and the smoking caterpillar, with questions that float like smoke through a hookah and remind me that i forgot where i started.
then a prayer and a moment of Quiet bring it all back, remind me before i begin to talk, before my mind rushes chaotically for to do's hurling through obstacles like jason bourne being chased by feds and cia hitmen. who's after me? where am i supposed to run to?
i forget again, and when i quiet, the inquisitive voice of the 11 year old girl that the mathematician, lewis carroll, fell in love with, returns like the rhyme of the ancient mariner, the investigation of living renews. the fast becomes clear and my purpose in doing it paves itself and i walk forward with my hair in patches and my walk as rooted as my dada and i realize i am mad, totally out of whack in my state of barely employed, barely scraping by, bothering only to cleanse, to reflect through these blogs, to pay homage to the trees down the block and watch my abbu and bhaiya and ammu do the same. i realize i was born into a family diseased by brokedom, with no sense of hustle, or money, but revolt and spirit and having people over for dinner and lunch and chai time. madness.
“But I don’t want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.
"Oh, you can’t help that," said the Cat: "we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad."
"How do you know I’m mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said the Cat, or you wouldn’t have come here.”
Flying through a tunnel like a bird learning how to fly for the first time. Colors passing me by with such immensity. This feels all too familiar. Have I been here before? Yes I know I have. Faster and faster I go as I begin to notice a light peaking straight ahead. A light so inviting, drawing me near as my body begins to feel an urge to release energy uncontrollably. The light swallows me whole. Here I am again, wait.... Where am I? This place seems so familiar.
ReplyDeleteLights shining on me from up above. A woman embraces me and looks down at me with a gentle smile. A tear falls from her face and it is at that moment that I feel love for her. As I look at her through the windows of my soul, I know that we share a strong connection, she is my mother. Others look at me with smiles while lights dance around my face.
What is this strange place? Feeling very familiar. As the veil of amnesia takes hold of my third eye, I grasp the idea that I came here for a reason. This is where I'm suppose to be. Once again I jumped into the rabbit hole. What am I seeking? What is my purpose?
Centuries and centuries of returning to this homeland. Must find out why I keep coming back. It is within this time, that I decide to remember again. The hole only goes deeper. Deep enough so that I may find my way back, so once again we can play this game again. I picked you for a reason. Your lineage and history serves me a purpose light being. You mustn't know just yet. Keep following the light ahead of you and one day you will see.