An idea, a thought, an anecdote, a story or a poem a day!

  Forlorn, feeling empty and finding it hard to focus, Along the banks of a lost river, that I remember, used to be. Tired, and teary, and in an urgent need for some water,  I came upon a bottle of some kind, transparent like glass  but made of some unbreakable substance and no opening that I could see at a glance neither a cork nor a twist top, what kind of bottle it was? A bottle with no mouth, but somehow it spoke to me! Foggy inside, with a piece of paper with some strange letters and unknown symbols written in different colours on it, floating in it, I shook it and the letters started to melt in the fog their rainbow colours dissolving and resolving themselves, and a sound started to emanate from it Ouummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Which started to turn into a song in a language I didn’t understand But the music swayed me, and I shut my eyes, dancing to the tune, forgetting everything else, Karagre Vasate Lakshmi, Karmadhye Saraswati, ...

To hug, or be hugged,  It is a nice feeling, for most of us.  Hugging someone we love,  a child, a parent, a sibling, a friend, and a lover, because we love them. WE want them to know, we are here, we are for them, that it is OK.  Then hugging ourselves, when happy, or worried, or just cold.  To assure ourselves that it will be OK.  Then hugging a tree! an environmentalist's , a conservationist's weapon in front of  greedy developers,  builder's bulldozers! A tradition of hugging a tree, started as a  Chipko  movement, by a tribal lady in north India, she stood there to front a developer, hugging a tree, trying to save it from getting uprooted,  Yes, hugging a tree, to tell it, that we are here that it will be OK? Then hugging a tree to get strength from it, to connect with nature! To know that it is here, for us, and that it will be OK!