Freedom - A spirit Re-Discovered. 


The Shiva temple was very old, a very small door through a dark corridor ended at a bare Shivalinga. 
Moortijee the caretaker was in his seventies, stood tall and was very thin, his diabetese had made him partial blind, but his voice had love that needed no language.
"I know it Amma," he spoke while holding Megha in his thin arms, "even a child has the voice that comes from heart and it can be understood irrespective of the language it speaks," he laughed.
"Come sit," called out Shyamala, Moortijee's wife, "I know you Nancy, I mean I have heard of you, will you have coffee?"
"Me, about me, how?"
"Thats not important, what is, is that you now sit in the boat to sail yourself, till now you left people, hmmmm, mothers on the river banks and went back, for first time you yourself stepped in to the boat," she laughed, " here take your coffee."
"Shyamala is a very old spirit, much much older than this temple too Amma," smiled Moortijee to Nancy,
"devotion is the most important, more than what you are and what you have, it is the spirit that re- discoveres freedom." 

Nancy sat there the whole afternoon quietly, Megha slept too in the chambers of Shyamala.

Their wants were so few thought Nancy as she cooked a light meal and boiled the milk for Megha. 
The peace she felt unnerved her, astounded by the ease of how she handled the few chores of that evening. Her diary waited for her to know all that happened today. 


Flower - When it comes out of earth, one knows nothing here is lost.