The only thought that pervades my mind as I sit here is this: I have no thoughts to offer you today. Oh, of course not, my mind is neither blank nor silent. Rather, it stays nowhere long enough for me to weave a little word-piece for you. The thought of you and of wanting to write you something however is all-pervasive.
And so here I sit, at the laptop, hoping that just for today, you will accept from me the notion that words, strung together, stream of consciousness, are as good a gift as a poem or an essay or a piece of fiction. Even if they don’t rhyme, express a thought or hang together elegantly.
The words that go through my mind are random: water (did we remember to order water for today?), coincidences (old friends relocated), sleep (will I sleep better tonight), typos (my fingers are having trouble locating the right keys on this keyboard—as much as my mind is having trouble finding thoughts). I forget to breathe, half in discomfort as I keep making mistakes typing, and half in anxiety that my little stolen time, stolen to do this for you, will be disturbed by someone wanting to come in for something. I sit here tense and unable to focus.
But the thought of you and wanting to write for you is all-pervasive. How can I not do this, my sole offering? These words are my substitute for decoration, for prayer, for ritual, for feasting and for everything else that is associated with these ten nights of celebrating you. I want you to have them because without you, I have nothing.
Thoughts flash through my mind—my monkey mind as some people put it. Before I recognize them as such they are gone.
But these words will remain, a testimonial both to my wish to write and to my inability to do the same.
Will you give me thoughts—good thoughts, creative thoughts, positive thoughts, you-full thoughts, empowering thoughts, disciplined thoughts and some fun ones too—in the years to come? And will you give me words with which to express them? And will you give me the intelligence to string the thoughts and words into something both beautiful and useful—that I can give back to you?
Namastasyai namastasyai namastasyai namo namaha.
Swarna
Chennai
September 30, 2003
Return to Navaratri 2003.
Go to Panchami.