OF DIFFERENT GALAXIES

#Prompt4

A Shout-out and Appreciation post to someone who helped me as a creator.

The Universe doesn't at all work in mysterious ways. It works exactly as it was meant to roll out for me. The riptides of 2025 were all engulfing. But fighting a losing battle was never an option. I had to surface tearing through it all. SM had taken a laid-back seat with me lounging in the tangible priorities I had to tackle in the 3D world.

Instagram had been a secondary preference even otherwise with FB taking the front row of all time whenever I was regular on social media.

Insta was a tool--totally non existent for years to come except for a couple of times since creating it but in August I opened this long forgotten wardrobe and found some unexpected treasures in there. Here was a creator who delivered dynamically in her audience interaction. And sensibly with great clarity as well. A nonsense, a non-controversial and someone who didn't whine and howl in a perceived victim mode. Just the tonic I needed to get out of the blues.

There came a day when hate comments rained blows on her from people who had nothing better to do than create a nuisance of themselves. This spirited girl took on every single one of them with a hot blooded fervour that made them slink away-- like most cowards do.

Two things:

I went completely out of my silent watcher avatar. My maternal instincts had kicked in for this very young influencer who is around Babylou's age.

DMs from me to anyone are very scarce and very much so this year, but I wrote a lengthy one to her in solidarity. I hadn't expected a response from someone unknown, exclusively popular and one who got hundreds of fan mail or otherwise. Given the heated exchanges on her profile just minutes back, I thought she would take time off or shut down DMs. Holy Moly! She replied within minutes!

And then started a series of conversational texts -- some which yanked me from the dregs and some which brightened her grey skies after reading my long winded blabbing.

In a month or two, I took a step back cutting short this connection. There's a quiet beauty in fading away before an equation runs its course. That was a season when we both needed each other to surface and revive ourselves. The Universe had paired us and the purpose was served. She's back on her feet-- fiery and feisty as ever and in turn she has put the bounce back in my feet.

A creator in her, who I came to know is also a writer, widely read and with a highly educated background we had a lot of common ground--- in addition to a shared outlook on spirituality too.

Some connections are best left as a sweet memory and I always, always, always trim it down just enough to say--"It was good while it lasted." And that's exactly what it was.

Thank you, N 💜

Some snippets from her heart warming DMs:

Cover Image Courtesy: Pinterest

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ANAM CARA

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BOKETTO

In my quiet moments, I pause the world from its frantic pace. In that stillness, I wistfully gaze into the distance and just let things unfurl as they please. I let my thoughts flow, absorbing nothing. Internalizing nothing. And just like that, the strands of tightly woven twine untangle and the knots come loose. Today, as usual, I found myself caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily grind. I was rushing to get things done, stressing about deadlines, and feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of tasks on my to-do list. But then, I took a deliberate pause. With a deep breath, I stretched, stepped away from my desk, and walked out onto my balcony. Leaning on the railing, I looked down at the familiar lanes of my neighborhood, twirling around the corners behind the blocks of apartments. The park and playground stood deserted at noon amid the cluster of flowering trees and surrounded by the hedges lining the curbs. I gazed at the sky, feeling the warm sun on my face and ...

ARIEL AND BLUE-BLOOD SHOES

The waves crashed violently against the craggy mountainside and the moonlight shone on the lacy froths. As I waded through the water and stepped on the wet sand, I remembered another night which was many moons ago. The same glinting lights through the palace doorways and windows, the fireworks adorning the night sky like shooting stars and meteors. A royal celebration with all the works and the guests dressed up in their best finery and aristocratic jewelry. Of noble births they all were. Blue blooded as the matriarch had pointedly told me once. That unholy night! That night of icy hearts and howling laughter, the echoes of cackling that followed me till I ran on wobbly legs to find my place of comfort where the land met water… Hot tears streaming down, I regretted those days when I lost my heart to a man so spineless. Had I not dragged him to the shore, he would have been a mangled mass after being torn apart by the piranhas and other monstrous maws. How I regret…Oh!...

CHẠ̀WKHRĀW (Chxw̒kh rxw̒)

As usual, at the dot of 8 pm, the Guzheng plays its stirring chords, the haunting notes beginning a slow sweep, rising to a powerful crescendo and alternating with a tranquil ebbing of melody surfing me along the waves of soul-stirring, yet a serene stretch of an hour every day. I make it a point to sit right beside my dining room window to bask in this lulling sound therapy as my neighbor downstairs diligently plays on this zither, oblivious to my admiration. What a luxury it is to have a live orchestra while I savour the last meal of the day. It's a welcome distraction to the otherwise jarring squabbling of the playful neighbourhood children. The Chạ̀wkhrāw of this– that the musical household might move one day is a foreboding thought. Foreshadowing this, deeply ingrained in me is the shattering news I had received upon returning to Singapore after an 8 month absence here. The Ramadan festive season was fast approaching at the end of March but the apar...

HELLO FROM THE OTHER SIDE

The sleek steel grey landline with it's cordless handset gleams in the mid morning sunlight. It's only a fixture on the tabletop these past several years yet loved and flaunted for old times sake. Also, for the numerous times the handset had nestled in our palms. The vintage feel of it and the stronghold of memories I associate it with beats the smartphone by miles. It has in turn been a confidante of our precious moments, some idling talk, some annoyance oh yes ! and all before Whatsapp made an entry into our lives and the poor dear was no longer in demand. The world was at our fingertips. It doesn't complain, doesn't whimper, not even a sigh, murmur or a slightest hint at a whisper of life for the past decade and more! Except… On Thursday the daylights were socked out of me! Lost in mundane chores, I had my gloved hands deep in a pile of soapy water scrubbing away at the breakfast dishes. The usual swell of silence was harshly rend by the landline from the livin...

Sangeetha Kamath

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