Author Archives: rosyretrospection

Tale of Mycroft

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It is again that time of the year when Santa Land is bustling with activity.  Christmas is nearing and the elf workshops are abuzz.  

Mycroft was a five year old elf.  He could not undertake making toys and other gifts.  But, he was always eager to help, especially running errands.  Often he used his scooter when he had to fetch some yarn, paint, ribbon, needles, hooks, scissors or prefabricated parts. He was always visiting the workshops. The older elves were happy to see him because they were always in need of something.

Mycroft loved his scooter. Often one saw him whizzing by with an angelic smile on his face, his hand waving his greeting. 

One day,  Mycroft was cruising away on his scooter.  It was a warm day and there was no snow on the ground.  He was enjoying the clear paths.  He went past the doll workshop, the train workshop and the puzzle workshop.  Suddenly, passing by the kite workshop, he noticed something floating above him.  The thing was long and had fiery colors.  The red, orange and yellow colors gleamed and made the object look like a Chinese dragon.  Mycroft suddenly realized that that it was a dragon kite!  There was a string hanging from it.  But the breeze was pulling it away.  In his little mind, he realized that the workshop was going to lose the kite. To him it was clear that it was up to him to rescue the kite because there was nobody else around.

Mycroft pushed his scooter to follow the dragon.  The kite kept floating forward as the breeze carried it.  Soon Mycroft realized that he was nearing the chain link fence.  
To the elf’s dismay, the dragon was going over the fence and ended up being tangled in the thin branches of a thicket.

Now Mycroft was a cocky elf.  He believed that he to could do anything.  With that belief in mind, he had followed the kite.  But he had to stop when he reached the fence.  He knew that he had to get to the other side of the fence to retrieve the kite.  It was not a picket fence.  So climbing over the fence it was not an option.  The only thing he could do was to crawl under.

Mycroft examined the ground under the fence for gaps. After further examination, he found a spot some animal had dug out.  He noticed that he needed a bigger space to pass under.  He needed to dig deeper.  He looked around for a possible tool.  As luck would have it, he found a piece of wood, a little narrower and sharper at one end.

Mycroft started to dig and the crawl space became big enough to fit his body.  It took a lot of time to make the space big enough for a young elf.  He slowly slithered under the fence till he reached the other side.  The dirt in the space was not kind to his clothes.  

The next step was to find the dragon kite.  It did not take long to locate the dragon and the tangled string.  Luckily, it was not a thorny bush.  He tried to separate the string from the thin branches of the bush.  He was fortunate that the kite did not reach the tree top.  Finally, the string was freed.

Mycroft carried the kite to the fence and carefully managed to pass it through the gap to the other side.  A little dust clung to it.  Otherwise, it was undamaged.  Then, he crawled through, making his red and green outfit look more brown.  He picked up the dragon kite and stepped on the scooter.  He was very careful because he had the added encumbrance of the kite. 

When Mycroft was nearing the kite workshop, he noticed an adult elf, the leader of the workshop, pacing anxiously.  When he saw the young elf with the dragon kite, he came running.  He had tears in his eyes when he shouted, “ You found it, you found it!”.  He hugged Mycroft and relieved him of the kite.  He led the little elf to the workshop in all his dirt.  There was a hero’s welcome waiting for him.  Everyone praised him for his bravery.  They had given up on the kite.  It was a special kite requested by a little boy suffering from leukemia.

Mycroft was very happy that even though he broke the rules by leaving the compound, he did not have to face any punishment.  He was even praised.  Next morning he found a package at his door.  He is now the proud owner of a brand new, red and green, elf outfit!

Birthdays

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Birthdays come and go

As we measure time in thimbles.

Is it wise to let time pass by?

Catch it by its forelock

And shout, “Carpe Diem!”

Our finite lives need

Some fulfillment.

Hold fast to time

And open up venues:

Improve, progress, develop

And, above all, 

Look right and look left

At all the surroundings,

At all seconds, minutes, and hours.

There the poor and the needy, 

The disenfranchised,

The old and the weak,

And the handicapped-

They reach for a helping hand,

For compassion and empathy!

Don’t let time pass

Without us reaching out

In time when Time passes by

And our fingers brush 

Only the bald patch in the back

While reaching to halt its passing.

Let us not waste time,

But deem it a boon

To reach out to tend and nurture

While embracing humanity.

My Mother

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In this world of realities, my mother was the beacon that led the way in my life.  From her, I learned the values of life.  A vessel of generosity, she opened the door to humanity.  She saw people as human beings, irrespective of rank and station.  She told me that the people around us were all children of some “mothers”, whether they were master or servant.  Welfare of others was of paramount importance to her.

She was always generous with food. People stopped by after the morning Mass.  They never left without breakfast.  She had a regular acquaintance for Wednesday lunch in honor of St. Joseph.

She always cared about the well being of her domestic help.  I have memories of her directing the girls about personal cleanliness.  She watched over them and directed them when they washed their hair.  She gave particular attention when they washed their clothes.

The mental wellness of those who worked for her was very important for her. She lent books and magazines for those who worked under her.

She never ate food delicacies without sharing them with her underlings.  If there was not enough, she used to cut them into smaller pieces to go around. 

My mother’s cooking was out of this world.  But she never looked down on others’ cookings. She taught me to respect the efforts of others. She discouraged me from looking down on them.

My mother was a natty dresser.  She was meticulous in pleating her clothes in the traditional manner.  Although  of a height of five feet, she knew how to hold a dignified stature.

She was a gifted natural singer.  Everyday our family sang at least two songs after the family prayer in the evening.  She came from a family that sang.  Her brother taught himself how to play several instruments and got together with his friends and had music sessions.  At home, he sang with his sisters and was the accompanist. My mother had cherished memories of her appearing on the stage as divine apparition of Virgin Mary and sang. We all inherited her singing genes at varied levels.

My mother was very neat.  Her housekeeping was excellent.  While she was in school, her teachers kept composition book on top when the District Inspectors came for assessment.  

 To me, Elizabeth Joseph was the quintessence of “ Mother”.

 

The Quiet

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Air nipped and prickled skin,

Raising goosebumps

In the coolness of autumn breeze

That whirled leaves

Fluttering in arabesque patterns

Of red, ochre, orange, yellow and brown.

A fluffy tailed squirrel,

Cheeks rounded holding three acorns,

Scurried and scattered through the leaves,

Distorting the patterns

Just as my mind rearranged thoughts

And my soul quieted to reach calm.

Translation of some lyric (author unknown)

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Refrain

The play acted out

And the audience has left!

Carrying this lamp of tears,

My mate, whom are you seeking?

1.  The singer played his flute

      Only to give heartfelt grief.

       The play has played out

        And the bird has left the cage.

Refrain

2.     The dream tale I had been watching

         Has sunk deeply in tears.

          Where are you going, my little bird

           Leaving your cage, where are you going?

Refrain

        The tale I had been following in my dreams

         Has drowned in tears

 

 

I Love You

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Is it so hard to say,

”I love you”,

When a word, a sigh,

A glance and a quirky smile

Dance into memories

Igniting a warmth

And the heart takes a leap

To eventually subside.

Heart is so recalcitrant

That it cannot look

At love in the eye

And proclaim,

”I love you”.

Only when intense moments

Have passed,

Never to return

When time’s compass revolved

Leaving one with eternal loss,

And clutching at heart

To soften the ache.

 

 

 

 

Foggy Morning

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Steering the car into the highway,

Into the milky white thickness,

Into the veiled scenery

And the muffled sounds,

I turned wheels with caution

And the ghostly trees sped 

Into a fog-smudged landscape

Which quickened slowly

From langurous slumber

When the molten orb,

In burnished splendour,

Dusted the misted air gold.

I shivered in the morning air

At the magic in the air.

Then the sun rose above

And shone upon my world

To lift the pall of fog

And Chase the magic off.