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

Think, think, yes, if you can't do anything else, you can at least think.  That's what I said to myself.  Think and remember. There is something always in the past that explains something else in the future. I'm sure I had heard it said more than once right here in this room.  Don't forget where you came from, don't forget who you are and what you had brought with you. Yes, I had heard it a few times, something like this and also that you brought nothing, something like that too.  Confusing but am sure it was a wise saying!  So, what do we need from our past to solve this predicament that we were in.  What did I bring with me maybe nothing!  What did she bring with her? I was thinking about the past something in our collective past that could hint at a solution to our problem.  I was thinking hard, so hard that my body started to shake a bit.  Babli looked at me and said,  "Yes, we need to think hard, find a solution.  We need money...

Squirming, from the vantage point from where I could see everything, I wanted to stop her.  Using one of  the hand carved rails of my canopy, I wanted to throw the whole thing down before she could say, 'yes'; but I couldn't, as I could never hurt her. As it was no guarantee that the canopy would fall on him, the man trying to persuade her, and not at her, my frail Babli.  I was looking at her with all my love and annoyance at the same time, thinking,  "Why oh why, why doesn't she see, what he was doing, what he was getting her to do?"   She had always been delicate, not that she didn't have enough flesh on her bones, but it were her bones, that were the ones so light, paper like, making her a paper machine doll.  The first night, when she had come in the room, in her bridal attire, I had fallen head over heals in love.  It didn't matter who she was waiting for, and who would be sharing the saffron laced milk in the silver glass with her that nigh...