What a broken ankle can teach you…

It can teach you acceptance. When magnet therapy, homeopathy, ayurvedic oils, bandages, hot-cold water, herbs, mantras, vitamins and hope tell

you – it‟s going to be slow, you embrace patience. Doctors and physiotherapists smile and say “it will take time”. Action and effort seem to become

weak agents. You have no choice. This is how it is. Accept – from within.

It can teach you freedom. Freedom from notions of form. When I limp – bandage, brace and crutch, or climb a stair or hobble on the pavement slow

and wary , people who‟ve seen me gliding and hopping give a sorry look. I hold myself back from laughing out loud. How silly! It‟s the fact that

you are „different‟ that leads them to a sense of pity. Would they feel the same if everyone had a walking stick? What if instead of a crutch I had

sprouted wings? An injured foot is not such a big a deal - a conditioned mind is!

It can lead you to observe. Colours around you appear more vibrant. You notice the streak of orange next to the red. The loops of maroon and blue on

your bedcover surprise you. The folds of the silken sofa cover, that has slipped too low. The fruit tray reveals it‟s aesthetic secrets, the freckled

banana skin, the orange with its loose, thick, spongy, yellow and green skin, the apples shiny and variegated, too have personalities. The steel plates

in the kitchen shine… Images jump out of life and into poetry.

It can show you yourself. The space that motionlessness creates, brings what‟s hidden or forgotten to the surface. Now that you have the leisure,

you start seeing the spaces in your heart – the irritation, sadness, longing. Memories crackle and light up in dark corners. Aspects of you that didn‟t

seem to exist, arise, personality is pounded, thrashed, kneaded, brought out anew. New roads are seen – the past and the future mesh into the now.

It can give you a glimpse of stillness. When you don‟t buzz around too much, the mind slips into silence almost naturally. A slice of sunshine

tumbling through the window onto the floor… a simple pattern, and the world stops. Stillness. The blueness of the sky and the mind stops. Just

blueness. The whirling of the fan, the cry of the child in the neighbourhood, the feel of the afternoon heat. That‟s all. No more, no mind. Stillness.

Sharing what brokenness has brought forth…

Love,

Harvinder

teachertalk@rediffmail.com

Lessons in Stillness

Your memory clings to me

like an anklet,

Music mingles with my steps.

Your memory clings to melike an anklet,Music mingles with my steps.

Lost,in touching leaves,I forget appointments.... if only trees were bosses!

The blueness seepsinto my skin.I stirred the sky in my cold cream!

ink

Licking ink,like blood.A carnivorous poem is born.

Flakes of the pastpeeling off,Likeplaster from damp walls.

Red hot coalsof longing,become ash.

The sky changes colour,When you don’t come!

He stands - an unlit lamp-post,Waiting for you,to turn him on.

It’s nothing but an absence,But it scares you just the same,A shadow does.

Loops of light, swirlingaround the lamp,

...like a childlost in play.

Snip, snip, snip,it clips,my nails and your lies.

Silken shadowsof your memory…

The light of my dark days!

Bandage

Frayed, yet, healing a wound.Like my aging mother’s voice...