WEAVING LIFE'S TAPESTRY

Who made us? The man upstairs, of course. Mummy, Daddy, the maids, our teachers, our friends, our pets, the beggars on the streets, the prostitutes we helped, the 'hijras' we gave money to, our students, our rivals, those envious of us, those with more than a chip on the shoulder, our defeats, our victories, our patients, our dance teacher, our music teacher, environments we found verbose, shallow people, so shallow they'd drown in a puddle, deep people, who sank into the depths of the ocean, but remained afloat, our daily chores, the afternoon siesta on the Sabbath, a simple meal, a bottle of water given by the tea boy, a smile from a broken face, lighting candles at the altar, humming a tuneless song, clearing a dusty room, a walk though a garden, a good night's sleep, the mango season (yuck), a new dress, feeling good when the rainbow shone, fighting with dark clouds, the first monsoon rains, the smell of sodden earth, the aroma of baking bread, gooey lemon tarts, failed attempts, prayers, love, intense and stifling, curtains blowing in the nor'westers, fragrance of diced chillies, sadness, unhappiness, faith, joy, belief, our all consummating soul.....victorious, happy, forthright, truthful, honest, bathing in the rains, flying in the wind; defeat, ravages, shame don't touch the soul.......the soul lives beyond the negative....vignettes of life.....we can set life on fire....