To care or care a damn?

This one isn't so much about my emotions as much as it is about the way society is so cohesive in thought that it takes you by surprise.To adopt means: to take and rear (the child of other parents) as one's own child, specifically by a formal legal act.

From this definition adoption does seem to be a good act. An act of responsibility, of faith, of trust and yes of love.  It seems now that the dictionary isn't always right. It doesn't include the cultural nuances and meanings of words. It doesn't take into consideration what effect one word can have on one group of people than the other. I realize that.

After all the conversations over coffee and tea and lunch and dinner I have now come to understand that people are doubtful. They love doubting. It’s such a burning desire that lest it’s fulfilled one cannot live. Hence people doubt. 

Your husband gave you a diamond necklace just like that. Doubt.  Your boss gave you a raise in the middle of the year( because you worked your butt off on a project and impressed him). Doubt. You pass by your daily clothes store and suddenly from nowhere the store says 90% off. Doubt. You wear your best saree to work one morning. People doubt.

You decide to adopt a baby. Doubt.

I am still waiting for one friend or foe to come up to me, give me a hug and say “Yeah! You are adopting! I am so happy for you".

Too much to ask for?

So tell me, do I care or do I care a damn?

Hope...

 

Hope is the thing with feathers 

That perches in the soul, 

And sings the tune--without the words, 

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard; 

And sore must be the storm 

That could abash the little bird 

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land, 

And on the strangest sea; 

Yet, never, in extremity, 

It asked a crumb of me.

- Emily Dickinson

For him, who completes me...

I Want

I want to sit beside you in a rowdy dingy pub
Legs dangling, shoulders jostling, knees touching
I want your breath to drain the sweat off my brow
And for you to lick the bitterness off my lips
I want your eyes to seek mine
I want to hear the hushed lust in your voice amidst the noise.

I want to sit beside you in a dark balcony
Where yesterday’s washing doesn’t flap its crackling wings
I want us to hear the night call
Watch shadows play ball and time creep up a celestial wall
I want your fingers to unerringly seek mine
I want to exist as more than a mere habit.

Anita Nair from Malabar Mind