The story of dragonflies

Those fluttering dragon flies, the pair of them, do they sing a song? Or perhaps tell us a story or more? Of dark clouds, of heavy winds, of high tides and lows, of rainbows, of darkness and light.. they flutter with a rhythm, pecking walls, in perfect sync to each other, no they dont hold hands, they fly, oblivious to the darkness around, to the light drizzle, to the heavy cloud. Perhaps the loud thunder is music to them, is that the rhythm they dance to? And lo, the bright lighnting, a trick to reveal the secret they carry, the twinkle in their eyes. I watch them in awe as the drops become heavier. I am transfixed, mesmerized, more words do not flow. The drops now hold hands, and start a new rhythm. A rhythm so carefully choreographed by the dark clouds. Of broken promises, of shattered dreams, of regrets, of guilt, of those moments that pass without words. The rain wipes away all sin, cleansing all around, watering new hope, painting the perfect rainbow. The dragonflies camouflage in a cozy corner, perhaps watching me, perhaps aware this time, aware of the tears that flow ceaselessly, seamlessly, and fly around me, singing a reasurring buzz.

We put our faith in you dear dragonflies.

Cheers,
Hopie

The suitcase a.k.a the "Potti"

Dear Husband of mine,
after eight years of marriage, i feel very sad that you still dont understand, that the potti is an integral part of us. I have waited for you to accept, but you are forever in denial, arent you? The potti is with us. It has to be full.
Please understand we have happy memories filling it. We walk along long familiar  corridors, picking up scents from nearby shops, of perfumes, of bakes, of coffee, of soaps. We look at young couples and realise how old we've grown (filling infinite potti-s meanwhile) and how we're absolutely a generation behind. We spot familiar things, and talk of old memories, with a smile so inconspicuous and oblivious to the world around.
Of course it is always going to be heavy. There is no equation to the weight of the potti. It is neither directly nor inversely proportional to the frequency of visits or to the distance back home. And without any doubt you have to carry it. Period.
To conclude, i wish to say, that a full potti indeed is a sign of propesperity. And even before you ask, it so obviously is, of yours.
Please grow up and embrace the potti. It comes with us.

Cheers,
Hopie

Friendship day

This morning, my mom reminded me tht it was friendship day. How times change. I recollected the days of celebration we had together. Those meaningless gifts, those friendship bands, day out, the times together. I realised this morning, how old ive become, so old that ive forgotten that its friendship day. One thing im glad about is, i have you to grow old with. Happy friendship day!!