Pragati

I am a hobbit living in a shire🌱🌳🍂⚔️

[proseandfolklore]

Sky put on its blue cloak as August appears on the horizon.

Slipping in with a soft kiss on the cheek.

The magic of the summer fades a little, but delighting still in the hot days

August sits quite on the tangled wires and shares the melodies with the world.

On a far distant hill, the wind howls and calls back the sparrows for their evening supper.

Someone's still putting flowers in their hair, and someone still running among the wildflowers in the hope that it would heal them.

The clock struck 6 in the evening the magic bus arrives carrying tired hearts back home.

Trees are waiting for the golden dust to fall on them to turn their green hearts golden brown.

Fields delight in the blossom and the night in the faint showers that fall when every soul sleeps curled up in their soft dreams.

Bees and butterflies still twirl back for the same joy,

and the cat still sleeps under the shade, little creeks run facing the sun,

and I sit on my front porch with a cup of tea and my book, watching the smoke flying out of chimneys and I hope, I hope and I hope.

Pragati, August is for hoping

[proseandfolklore]

The tears we shed or the unshed tears are just devotion kept safe within that didn't let out, love that was never expressed through words and gestures but now leaking out overwhelmingly through weepings and wails. In sobs, there is sheltered affection and appreciation that could have made the difference, but now all they do is lament. All the grief and mourning are scraps of tenderness and proof of how much we loved someone and how much we still do and will keep on loving even if they are not here anymore. In their absence, how much we long for their presence.

Pragati

[proseandfolklore]

There's a perpetual sadness in me that has longed to leave my body, but I have always held it back. I have been selfish, always asking for it to stay because I needed it; I will always need it. And now, it has made a home in my heart.

- Pragati

[proseandfolklore]

I saw that radiant blue of the sky while I rode back home in a taxi on that early Friday morning. My friends were sitting there with me. I was there too but I was not, my eyes lingered outside, and my mind drifted to some far-off distant lands, and got trapped in the serenity of the world. My disorderly thoughts escaped the metal cages of my mind. They broke out and hung on the clouds and into that liveliness of the blue. I was forgetting how summer feels like until the soft breeze got entangled in my hair, and the scorching heat burned my skull. Sitting there in a car we drove through the strange but beautiful landscape. Moving along the mountains life felt good, and for a moment everything seemed possible. The strangeness of my soul didn't feel much strange, I wasn't an outsider to myself in that moment. I realized that we carry our own landscapes, we all have something unfamiliar, something wild within, that we are yet to discover. I was tired, eyes weighed down with sleep, but I was there, I was alive, and maybe I was happy as I rode back home with my friends, wishing for the road to never end. I closed my eyes and dreamed of home, while soft music blasted through the speakers and everybody was in their own heads, intertwined in their own thoughts. Nobody was talking but at the same time saying thousands of words.

Pragati

[proseandfolklore]

"In a world full of onions, be an orange."

[proseandfolklore]

They stood there under the soft glow of the street light facing each other. Standing worlds apart but not too far as not to feel the presence of another. Something shifted that day in the way they were standing as if they were not moving but their hearts were getting closer to each other. There were no stifled feelings, they worried about nothing, they were just hopeful about something, maybe a better tomorrow, maybe a better life for both of them. Their eyes were caught up and neither of them tried to avoid the gaze, unspeakable connection, and the swelling feelings in their hearts. As if they could see the light passing through each other. As if they understood each other for the first time. And it felt good to be seen by someone who understands, to stand there facing each other without fear of one turning its back.

"We should hug, what do you think?" He said with his hands in his pocket, and uneasiness on his face.

"What did you say?" She asked, startled in her disbelief.

She wasn't sure of what she just heard or if she heard it correctly, so she asked him to say that again.

"Can I hug you? if that's alright with you?" He said again. His voice was shaky, a bit anxious as if he didn't believe his own words. But his voice was louder, and she did hear him this time. He didn't know how delighted she was to hear that. He had no idea. She was so happy that she wanted to go crazy with happiness. But she contained herself and didn't want him to see how she longed for this day to come. She didn't say it as she had a lot of pride in herself for not showing him her giddiness. She felt a childlike happiness gushing through her.

"Oh! So we are going for a hug right now, are we?" She asked, still in disbelief.

"Yes!" He answered.

They took a step closer to each other, slowly, carefully, as if they both were trying not to trip and fall and make a mess of themselves. When they were close enough she went in for a hug awkwardly. She was aware of her brewing excitement, a tingle in her stomach, and love in her heart. She wondered if he felt the same. She slowly threw her arms around him and rest her chin on his shoulder trying not to be clumsy and wondering if he is going to hug her back or if she just going to embarrass herself, as she was good at that.

"Are you okay? Are you comfortable?" She asked him. She was trying not to make the already awkward situation more awkward.

"Yes, I am fine!" He replied as he pulled his arms around her. She could still sense his discomfort. She could feel how difficult it was for him to be this close to someone and how hard he was trying. She felt ashamed to be this selfish, but she wanted to care about nothing for once, she wanted to be selfish, and she wanted to feel this moment, and to make sure that this is all real and that she is not dreaming, so she held him tight.

"It's weird, you know? I can feel your heartbeat. wow!" She said nervously.

"Yeah! I can feel yours. And strangely, I don't want to let go this time." He said amusingly.

"Then don't," she said.

He tightened his grip around her as she saw him letting go of his weight and fears of the past. He was letting his walls down. She patted his back to comfort him, to let him know that he is safe.

"Thank you for letting me in! And thank you for trusting me! Thank you for trying!" She said as she almost burst out in tears but held on.

"Are you crying?" He asked.

"No, I am not. I am happy!" She said. And she didn't lie this time, she was truly happy.

"It is okay! You can cry!" He said and his words gave her space enough to let go of her emotions and she cried.

They held onto each other for a little longer, while the world went on. But somewhere in her heart there was fear, she feared this being the last time she would hug him. She wondered that are they coming this close only to fall back further from each other. She was scared of letting go. But she couldn't help but think only about this moment and how a hug as simple as a gesture could be so liberating and healing. And how for some people it takes a lot of strength to show these gestures. It takes up a lot of their courage and trust. That day he found someone to trust. That day, she found her lost happiness.

- Pragati

[proseandfolklore]

I saw you that day at the bus stop waiting for the last bus to take you home. 

Your gaze was fixed on the horizon and your feet stood steady in your shoes.

You were watching the sun melting quietly behind those glamorous hills,

You yearned for the colours that peeled off from its skin, you yearned for the sky.

The sun was setting but something was rising in you a budding feeling of belonging,

You belonged to the moment or the moment belonged to you, I could not tell.

You were like a child under the golden light who saw a miracle for the first time. 

You must have counted all the birds who were flying giddily in the sky, gliding around and tearing every cloud. 

You found your unsolicited place among them.

Before your face could tell your heart smiled.

The sincere happiness on your face that I wouldn't have noticed otherwise. 

You were distant from everything around you while you were busy penetrating every sour memory and reaching for the one glowing in front of your eyes. 

Your fingers flinched in your pocket,

You moved a little as if you will take a flight 

You had teary eyes 

You felt happy for the first time. 

- Pragati

[proseandfolklore]

You went out that day to buy some flowers because I told you that we need some fresh flowers in the house. You were wearing your favourite shirt that you always wear in an earthly brown color, and the smell of your perfume that you always leave behind.  I wanted to say that you look good in this shirt, but I did not and just admired you from a distance while you put on your shoes and looked at me smiling at you like a fool. You smiled back and asked me what I am smiling about, but I did not answer and looked away. You confusingly squint your brows like you always do whenever you are trying to decipher something.

I admire you quitely and never speak a word. I have never been good with words, and I have never been good at expressing my love. The way my love is sometimes a secret from you and the way I love you peacefully. You understand and let me love you the way I do and accept my adoration for you.

You shook your head and passed me a smile, you did not know how many smiles of you I have kept safe within me. You went out of the house and my eyes followed you till they could not see you anymore. I could have said "bye, come back soon," but I did not. I drank my tea and waited for you to come back. In between, I toiled around the house, and I finally took out that new vase that we bought a year ago from the local flea market. I put it down carefully and cleaned it until it gleamed.

I decided that I will say it, I will say how much I love you and how happy I am to see you again. I will say I missed you and that your face is as beautiful as it was in the morning. I will say that I love your smile and your squinting brow. I will say that the house still smells like you even after all the hours that have passed. I decided that I will say, I will speak my heart this time. I will welcome you like you were gone for years, and I will hug you like you were missing from me. I gathered all my courage and I waited, I waited, and I waited. You did not come. I waited for you to open the door but the door remained shut. Outside the world grew dark but you did not come. I started to worry and panic rose in my heart. I called your phone but you did not answer. I called again, I must have called ten times, but there was nothing but the dreaded silence on the other side. I called for the last time and someone picked up but it was not you. At that moment I felt my world falling apart. I realized that now you will never come home. I refused to believe that you were gone, but I saw your smile fading, I saw your world dimming. I saw your hand slipping from mine but I held on, I couldn't let go.

That day it was neither your world nor my world but our world that fell apart. The words I wanted to say remained unsaid, stuck forever inside, dying unhurriedly.

You were gone and all that was left behind was your shirt that I clung to and cried, your memories and smiles that I collected all this time, and the flowers you bought that found their new home in the vase. And all those unsaid goodbyes.

- Pragati

[proseandfolklore]

I love rooting for strangers. Everytime I see them trying their best to do something, learning to speak their mind more boldly and sternly. I root for them to get better at everything they have been trying to do for so long. I whisper in my heart, you got this, you can do this, and I dont know you, you dont know me but I am here rooting for you, and I wish you find happiness and success in your endeavors. I want someone to get on the bus when they are running after it. I root for their garden to thrive when I see them watering their plants. I wish for their food to taste good when they order it and wait eagerly to eat it. I wish for their love to grow deeper not only for each other but for themselves too. I root for them to reach home safely when I see them on the bus resting their heads on the window. After an exhausting day at work, I wish them a peaceful night. And in the morning I wish them a fulfilling day. When I see them resting under the shade of a tree, I wish them to find consolation from their worries and anxieties, even if just for a while but I root for them to get through the day, and I root for them to begin again while looking out for the endless possibilities.

- Pragati

[proseandfolklore]

I am authentic, I am flawed, I am raw, I am all the tragic and beautiful things when I am alone, all by myself.

[proseandfolklore]

I am a deeply emotional individual and I cling to everything that is beautiful, raw and makes me feel alive and reminds me of my humanness. Anything that knocks me out of my breath. Any moment, imbued with life so radiating in front of my naked eyes.

[proseandfolklore]

Sometimes, I don't dwell in happiness. I dive into my sadness like a starving baby dives into his mother's breast for milk. It walks with me and lives with me. I feel it to the point I feel more human and I cry myself to the point my tears turn into a boundless river, because sometimes I forget to be a human and my sadness remindes me that I am allowed to be vulnerable . And when slowly that sadness softens and happiness comes along, I am ready to take the leap and embrace it with an open arms.

[proseandfolklore]

Drowning in the sun like melted butter.

Eyes like honey, bathing in the light.

Wind kissing the cheeks and making them blush!

Tossing and twirling of hair like a ballerina dancing on its tip toe!

These hands holding the warmth and caressing the body.

Flowers waltzing in the corner. Birds perched on the tree are carefree. Ceaselss wonders, winter does. New life it brings to whatever comes its way, whatever it touches, blooms in a boundless beauty. It is piercing and jarring, yes. But it is also soft and loving.

[proseandfolklore]

I thought about it more frequently, how we humans are magically so capable of carving our own little spaces where only we can fit in. We creep in like a snake and sit there while the world goes on. We sit there with all our crises and isolate ourselves from the outside world. A safe space for our thoughts and emotions. A space where we never forget to breathe! We get so comfortable living like that, that we almost forget that our problems, however, linger around, but that space gives us so much warmth that the world outside feels too little for us. After living like that for a while, that space thrives and is capable of holding all our vulnerabilities and all our pleasant and unfortunate remembrances. But sure, the day comes when we have to step out of that space and come face to face with the reality of facing the world and discern that our troubles are still here. However, when the time comes for us to seek reality, we have enough endurance for this time. We have the strength to confront them. While we fight the unknown, that magical space waits for us, and we know we can always come back to rest, when we are exhausted and when the world feels too much. Our little world begins to cultivate in that, and We get accustomed to that space, that now we call our home.