All Grown Up

It seems like yesterday I had you cradled in the crook of my elbow. And look at you now! Although there was never a time when you and I couldn’t understand each other, something changed tonight. For both of us. Tonight you seem more mature, and as full of life as ever. Tonight, to me, you seem all grown up. Somehow, losing those teeth just made our conversations all grown up too.

The Tango

There’s something wonderfully fascinating about trees that draws me in. And keeps me there.
Something mysterious, yet oddly familiar.

Their immobility, but through the will of nature’s elements.
Their submissiveness and flexibility, yet strong rooted resolve.

Their self-sacrificing nature, always sheltering, shading, protecting.
Their power of renewal, through a never-ending cycle of the seasons.

Their beauty, as full and diverse as nature itself.
And colors, ranging from the deepest blues to the highest yellows.

It is in the autumn, at the bottom of another rythm, that they seduce me most.
A tango between light and hue, a dazzling spectacle to behold.

Capturing my soul, and not letting go.
There are stories yet to be told.

Sunday Blues – Darker

Sunday Blues - Darker

Last Sunday we set the clock back one hour. The end of daylight savings time is a sure sign of the arrival of autumn. Even though there is still the occasional day where the sun feels warm on my skin, the chill has definitely arrived. The days are getting cold. The nights colder.

But it is the darkness I dread.

There are remedies for cold and wet. But none for the darkness that seems to escape its prison deep in the confines of my heart, and spread out, threatening to extend the night indefinitely. Suddenly all about me, I see the shadow that  I carry locked away inside me. And I feel it within and without.

And all the lights, become mere ephemeral spots of joy in the gloom. My Sunday blues, it seems, just got darker.

My Heart Sinks (Whenever I Remember my Beloved)

My Heart Sinks (Whenever I Remember my Beloved)

My heart sinks whenever I remember my beloved
My dearest lives far away, would someone bring him back?

My heart sinks whenever I remember my beloved

My heart’s desire is not with me, with whom shall I talk?
To me, nobody is like him, to whom shall I open my heart?
I keep begging but I am powerless

My heart sinks whenever I remember my beloved

I keep going to the roof awaiting his return
If the one who left ever peeked into my sighs
he would not have left alone, who can reason with him?

My heart sinks whenever I remember my beloved

Original in Urdu by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan

Ved Rondane

No seer eg atter slike Fjøll og Dalar,
som deim eg i min fyrste Ungdom saag,
og sama Vind den heite Panna ‘svalar;
og Gullet ligg paa Snjo, som fyrr det laag.
Det er eit Barnemaal, som til meg talar,
og gjer’ meg tankefull, men endaa fjaag
Med Ungdomsminni er den Tala blandad:
Det strøymer paa meg, so eg knapt kan anda.

Ja, Livet strøymer paa meg, som det strøymde,
naar under Snjo eg saag det grøne Straa.
Eg drøymer no, som fyrr eg altid drøymde,
naar slike Fjøll eg saag i Lufti blaa.
Eg gløymer Dagsens Strid, som fyrr eg gløymde,
naar eg mot Kveld af Sol eit Glimt fekk sjaa.
Eg finner vel eit Hus, som vil meg hysa,
naar Soli heim mot Notti vil meg lysa.

Alt er som fyrr, men det er meir forklaarat,
so Dagsens Ljos meg synest meire bjart.
Og det, som beit og skar meg, so det saarat,
det gjerer sjølve Skuggen mindre svart;
sjølv det, som til at synda tidt meg daarat,
sjølv det gjer’ harde Fjøllet mindre hardt.
Forsonad’ koma atter gamle Tankar:
det sama Hjarta er, som eldre bankar.

Og kver ein Stein eg som ein Kjenning finner,
for slik var den, eg flaug ikring som Gut.
Som det var Kjæmpur spyr eg, kven som vinner
af den og denne andre haage Nut.
Alt minner meg; det minner, og det minner,
til Soli ned i Snjoen sloknar ut.
Og inn i siste Svevn meg eigong huggar
dei gamle Minni og dei gamle Skuggar.

Written by Aasmund Olavsson Vinje in 1860

The Increasing Entropy

I was the tree.
Alone but strong,
I thought I would always be.

But none may defy
nature’s law of ageing and decay,
through the dance of time passing by.

The universe’s way of communication.
The constant increase of entropy,
towards the inevitable end-station.

All those promises, all those dreams.
Made only to be broken,
tearing life at its seams.

Bulleh Shah’s Reflections

You read and read and master knowledge.
But you never read your inner self.

You run to enter temple and mosque.
But you never entered your heart.

Every day you fight the devil.
But you never fought your own desire.

Bulleh Shah, don’t reach to grab what’s in the sky.
When you havn’t even managed to grab what’s inside your own soul.

When You Were Loved

When every dream
has turned to dust,
and your highest hopes
no longer soar.

When places you
once yearned to see,
grow further away
on distant shores.

When every night
you close your eyes,
and long inside
for something more.

Remember this
and only this,
if nothing else
you can recall—

There was a life
a girl once led,
where you were loved
the most of all.

– Text from “When”,  in Lullabies, by Lang Leav

En Route to Gaustatoppen

Gaustatoppen, considered by many to be the most beautiful mountain in Norway, towers above the town of Rjukan at an altitude of 1883 meters (6178 feet). The views from the top, as well as along the route, are stunning, and on a clear day, hikers can see one sixth of Norway from the summit!

The mountain is a popular destination for Norwegians, something I got to experience a few weeks ago. There was a constant stream of people all along the route. So many that there was a queue.

Many parents had brought their children along, the youngest ones walking, only three or four years old. Many of the children were crying and begging their parents to be carried, or simply refusing to go on. Most of the parents were ignoring their cries and telling them to keep going. This is something they simply had to do, and crying or yelling would definitely not help!

So en route to the summit of Gaustatoppen, with a backdrop of majestic Norwegian mountains, I got to witness the meticulous efforts of some parents to transfer what they believe to be core Norwegian values to the next generation. It was interesting to see how parents will always choose what they think is best for their children, no matter how much the little ones oppose.

I am Alone

There was a world far away, in which you and I lived.
Walking on the paths of our dreams, I said to you,
I admit, I am in love. If this is not love, what is it?

I am alone, I am alone, I am alone. Without you,
I am alone

Your innocence, your laughter. I miss your simplicity.
In my eyes, in my breaths. You are in my heart, in its beat

Our togetherness lasted centuries.
If you are not here, my heart is lonely.

Why did you get upset with me, what was my mistake?
You left my world barren, all your promises were lies.

I am alone, I am alone, I am alone. Without you,
I am alone

I am alone, I am alone, I am alone. Without you,
I am alone

(Original in urdu by Raeth from their album Raeth)