For Pip, Thrush and Blue | World Suicide Prevention Day 2021

If you are feeling low, or trampled, unappreciated, or forgotten…and you are reading this, realize it is an illusion…the hope is real…you are valued…and what lies ahead…is brilliance.
― Tom Althouse

For Pip, Thrush and Blue,
This I say,
“To and fro, we moved
Through the clouds of hymns we hummed,
As the world progressed,
Our longing for freedom grew ever stronger.”

I remember days where we vanquished imaginary foes, where Pip once sacrificed his life to save the rest of us from an army of rather savage goblins. Sir Pip was our leader, advisor and messenger. He knew all the shortcuts, how to get to the adults when we didn’t and very often, managed in acquiring free chocolate from no one knows where.

Memories of riding our bikes downhill but being too exhausted to walk uphill come flooding as I traverse the paths that were once volcanoes and rainforests to us.

Nights, when Thrush would sing to us still soothe me on nights lightning, electrifies the earth. It’s one of those memories that are triggered by just one word, one stare, one leaf.

I see Thrush prancing and flying, always beating us at most games but being too good-natured about it, that we would end up sacrificing victory for a song.

I remember the day her brother died and it was we, who sang her to sleep. She never slept that night.

For Pip, Thrush and Blue
In life, did we live
With cares so free and hardly there
Days spent in childish glee
Ended in time, we wrinkled for love.

Blue, if joy ever had a sad day, it would look like you. You exuded so much joy that it was contagious and we’d find ourselves laughing the most random things ever – mailboxes, candy wrappers and paintings; because they felt like you – because they felt Blue to us.

We never knew you were hurting or that your smiles were so infectious and jokes designed to laugh so that none of us would feel the pain you battled everyday or hear those loud and terrifying thoughts that had screamed themselves sore. I remember how the heroes in all your stories were dreamers changing worlds they created because the real world was too harsh.

Photo by Dominika Roseclay on Pexels.com

As I rise above the bench down the street and reminisce my faults, I see what I missed all along – the beauty of loss. Every day we came together was perfect. The sun shone gaily, the wind blew kindly and the grass beneath our feet remained fresh and green.

Pip would go around securing our boundaries, Thrush would sing to the birds for whom she was named, while Blue would make sure there were no flowers that were withering.

I was up there, all along watching and wishing, I could be a part of this gang, so gay they brightened up my days spent in the dark.

Aeons have I watched over
Everyone and everything but,
None that portrayed life in all its glory
Like Pip, Thrush and Blue did.
Pip’s bravery gives me strength as Thrush’s songs
Warm my soul while Blue
Shows me the sun can mask pain too.

I knew this was coming. I’d seen it before the children did. Blue left the world as the beautiful angel he was. I saw Pip cry for the first time that day; the bravest of all warriors broken down at the sight of his comrade who was no longer breathing. Thrush was there, but people say she lost her voice.

For Pip, Thrush and Blue
As I watched death bring you closer
I saw the strength, bravery and kindness
Your little hearts were soaked in.

How wrong were they – I saw Pip and Thrush that night, at the same park they came often. Without Blue, they seemed lost but oh, how she sang! I saw Blue standing nearby, his face contorted in pain and pride bathed in a glow only freedom could provide, but they couldn’t see him and her heartfelt singing reigned the night.


I saw the veil grief covered you in.
Dears – I saw it all
Soaked pillows in the night and broken whispers
Showed me more than you know.

But know Blue is here, his soul finally free.
He lives through you
Every war you win within yourself

And every demon defeated
Is victory for him and every song sung
Is his life’s anthem.

For even in death,
Pip, Thrush and Blue
Remain bound and prisoners of
Love, strength and kindness.

Most nights do I* take up my place in the sky, but even from up here, life just isn’t the same without you three.

Oh Blue, I wish you’d known just how much you mattered to all of us.

Photo by luizclas on Pexels.com

*This story is narrated from the moon’s perspective and so, I refers to the moon.

The biggest lie we fall for is that it doesn’t matter. Your opinion doesn’t matter. Your choices don’t matter. Your influence doesn’t matter. Your existence doesn’t matter. You don’t matter. It is the worst, most destructive lie we ever believe, and in consequence it wreaks extensive damage to more lives than your own.
Don’t fall for that evil lie. Don’t forget that everything about you absolutely does matter.

You matter.
How you feel matters.
What you say, do, and think matters.
It all matters.

― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

World Suicide Prevention Day (WSPD) was first launched in 2003 on 10 September by IASP with the endorsement of the World Health Organisation (WHO). The 10th of September each year has been designated as a way of focusing attention on the problems of suicide worldwide.

Our renewed message is one of hope; that aims to empower people with confidence to engage with this complex subject.

An ambitious task now lies ahead. Through this theme we aim to work together, through our membership and beyond, to create a movement of preventative action, with sustained messaging to drive behaviour change and ultimately, prevent more suicides.

‘Creating Hope Through Action’ is a reminder that there is an alternative to suicide and aims to inspire confidence and light in all of us; that our actions, no matter how big or small, may provide hope to those who are struggling. Preventing suicide is often possible and you are a key player in its prevention. Through action, you can make a difference to someone in their darkest moments – as a member of society, as a child, as a parent, as a friend, as a colleague or as a neighbour. We can all play a role in supporting those experiencing a suicidal crisis or those bereaved by suicide.

Source: International Association for Suicide Prevention

Thoughtfully yours,
D

A Glance, I Implore –

I saw you approach cautiously, undoubtedly a result of those nasty stories you’ve been hearing about me. You seemed to be 7, a child yet to know the world, a life spent in sheer joy at every waking moment. I once knew a little girl like you, she’d bring her friends over and we’d have a splendid time playing hide and seek.

The Cassette Store

I was born into this strange period that served as a transition bridge from what was new to what would be new. I grew up watching recorded movies and listening to songs on cassette tapes, something that my parents had a proclivity for collecting – and today, my life is all but dependent on screens with an almost instant access to all the information I could need.

Dear Tom and Jerry,

Don’t you wish you could take a single childhood memory and blow it up into a bubble and live inside it forever?― Sarah Addison Allen, Lost Lake Dear Tom and Jerry, Life’s not the same anymore. Almost half a century after the final story on your lives was aired, your adventures continued to keep me in tense […]

Where The Lost Thoughts Go

(This is a story (edited version) I wrote for Diamond’s Photostory contest. It was very much an impulsive write and I apologise in advance if it appears nonsensical).

I saw him from a distance. It was a mere glimpse, but I registered so much of his face in that tiny fraction of a second. He had a lost expression as he sat staring into space. As I approached him silently, I searched for what it was that had his gaze enslaved.

It was a solitary cloud.

It looked like a thick white blanket that had been rolled and crushed repeatedly, until it had frayed ends and stray threads in all the wrong places. I couldn’t get over how incredibly magnificent it looked, in the messy state it appeared to be in – at first glance, its beauty was in all, that was wrong about it. It was far too different from all the shapeless clouds I’d doodled away when I let my thoughts wandered.

“Hey Sandy.” I’d been so dazed I didn’t notice I’d been standing next to him the whole time. “Hey.” It’s a half-hearted greeting, but I can see he hasn’t heard me. I sit down beside him and we continue to stare at the lonely cloud that appears faintly translucent from the last rays of the setting sun. “Would you miss me if I float away, Sandy?” The question hits me from out of the blue and I’m disoriented at what he’s asked. Did he actually say, ‘float’?

He turns around to look at me and I know he’s searching for an answer in my eyes, one that I’m afraid my brain can’t formulate into words. “You can’t float“, I say.

“I could with balloons.” It irks me how quickly he replies. The fact that he’s actually thought it through, that he anticipated what I would say, annoys and touches me at the same time.

Of course, I would miss you. All of us would.” That puts him at ease for a second before he tenses up again and sits rigid staring at the last few wisps of the cloud, he’s given so much of his attention to. I suddenly catch sight of a few balloons next to him and the realisation that we’re sitting on the roof hits me like a bus. He can’t have been serious.

“Don’t you think it’s unfair they’re born to soar the skies, that they get to break themselves and stitch themselves back again and disappear and not be asked why they left?” He’s not himself today, but I can hear a pained love in his voice. He just wants answers.

Life is unfair.” I know my answer is too open-ended and I know it’s not what he wanted to hear as I see his face scrunch up in thoughtful anger. “But it’s still unfair?” He wants me to say yes. “Not to them, it isn’t.”

I feel myself losing patience, I don’t understand where he’s going with this and I can’t walk away, not now that I’ve seen the balloons. “The balloons can’t take your weight.” I blurt out. He stares at me again and it just hurts so much to see him in wordless agony struggling to convey what his thoughts are screaming.

Photo by diya-pokharel on Unsplash

Cloud, are you okay?” I ask, trying to count the balloons. He stands up and hands me a balloon. “I think it’s cruel I was named for a fluff of white that goes around exploring all day and here I am stuck with no place to fly away to, when the voices inside demand a space to be let out.”

He starts blowing his balloon and beckons me to follow suit. I hold an inflated one out to him with a questioning eye and he shrugs as he ties their strings together. “They’re not for me”, he whispers. We blow up balloons till there’s enough to fill our home.

He takes out a few scraps of paper from his coat pocket and secures them at the end of each balloon. I can see something scribbled on each of them but they’re folded and hidden from view. Once all the balloons have paper scraps of their own, he hands a few of them to me and looks me straight in the eye and says, “Set them free.”

We watch as the balloons float away into the sky without a word of thanks or a farewell stare. ”I felt bad we were keeping them in a drawer when they had so much potential. It felt wrong we were condemning themselves to a sedentary life when they were created to soar. I figured I might send them away with a message or two for the clouds they pass through.”

Seriously? He was guilty about the balloons in his desk drawer? My anger vanishes like the cloud did, as I see my brother staring at the last few balloons. The sky’s a strange tint of royal blue speckled with wispy clouds and an occasional star. For a brief moment, I’m suddenly made aware of the thoughts and efforts he must have channeled into organsing this little escape, because his little heart couldn’t bear the fact that we were ‘holding a few balloons captive.’

He looks perfectly content, his skin giving off a slight glow against the blue sky and we watch as the last of the balloons disappear at the horizon. “You have no place to fly away to, Cloud. But you have family who’ll brave any storm for you.” He turns to me and I go on, “Like the stars that are always there but never seen on sun-soaked mornings, by your side brother, will we stand through thick and thin.”

Dear clouds,
Please take our worries with you the next time you drop by, and set them free. Keep these balloons safe till they arrive at the place the lost thoughts go.
Sincerely,
Cloud Star Stone

And now, meet the siblings of this story!

Sandy

Source: Build A Bears Furever

Cloud

Thoughtfully yours,
Introverted Thoughts aka D

Quiddity

Quiddity | Poetry Random Specific Thoughts

“It isn’t by getting out of the world that we become enlightened, but by getting into the world…by getting so tuned in that we can ride the waves of our existence and never get tossed because we become the waves.”
― Ken Kesey, Kesey’s Garage Sale

Through a seam in the fabric of existence
Does the day’s soul leak through;
The sole witness to the shadows
Bending to the tune of bones-
As they carve an object of flight
From parchment, so frail.

On turned tables do we cavort
To rhythms, unhindered by probabilities-
As we thrive between intervals undefined.
For the truth of being, do we bleed.
The sick stench of facades
Obscuring visions of beauty blighted.

Photo by elisabetta foco on Unsplash

In a world where
Trust is tainted with trust,
Love stained by love,
As hands that walked our first steps
Are forced into binds by
Hands that wrought hateful love;
Existence, do we muster.

Oh, call out hearts and souls –
For sustenance of sight so true,
Whilst we soar through
A world set ablaze – for fear of loss,
In remembrance of music
That once held love captive.

“Youth ends when egotism does; maturity begins when one lives for others.”
― Hermann Hesse, Gertrude

Thoughtfully yours,
Introverted Thoughts aka D

On a quick sidenote, I would like to extend my gratitude to Dagmara, editor at Spillwords for accepting my poem, Tears for publication at Spillwords. You can read it here if you’d like!

On a more serious note – as most of you probably know, India is caught up in a deadly battle with the second wave which is brutal. With thousands of people losing their lives daily, studies are beginning to identify India, as a global epicentre for the pandemic, as the number of deaths rise rapidly, along with a radical increase in the test positivity rate. This accompanied by a grave shortage of medical resources especially, oxygen and pre-existing issues like starvation and poverty – not a lot seem hopeful at this point.

Please click here to see if you can help in any way and here to make sure no child misses out on their education.

“What dreams do you dream?” ft. Huckleberry

“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.”
― Anatole France

( D here! This is a Q&A with a very special guest hosted by yet another new face, someone I absolutely love and trust! Kudos to Evin for suggesting this idea! Today, my pet dog, Willy is going to be interviewing Anna’s pet kitty, Huckleberry! Similar pet collaborations are on the way; keep an eye out on Diamond’s, Lizzie’s, Shanessa’s and Evin’s blogs to meet all of our trusty four-legged friends!

Without further ado, I’m going to retreat to my place as a translator for all the doggy and kitty talk!)

(All photos of Huckleberry were kindly provided by his human, Anna!)

hello!

Huckleberry!! I’m so excited to meet you! Did you know that I love cats? Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself and your person?

Ayyyy Willy! Nice to meat you! (Definitely didn’t spell it like that on purpose) Wait, you LIKE cats? Well that’s good, although I can’t say I particularly like dogs…. I’ve been scared by them too many times!

But purrhaps if you don’t get too close, I will like you just fine!  Umm a little bit about myself? Hmm.. well, I am 1 year and 2 months old, and I am a super adorable orange and white cat… In my spare time I love to bite my person, and jump at her and cling to her legs and make her scream😼 I also love to go crazy around the house chasing hairbands and random items.

My human is kinda boring…. She won’t let me be on the counters or chew on things, she makes me stay outside when I’m hyper, and she doesn’t give me enough treats….. That’s pretty much all I know about her.

Hehe, I’m older than you are! What do you do in a typical day? Do cats really sleep 12-16 hours per day?

Well, first thing in the morning, I’ll wake everyone in the house by meowing at the top of my lungs, trying to get someone to let me out of my human’s room…. Then once someone lets me out, I’ll whine until someone feeds me.😼

Then one of my human’s parents will toss me outside and I’ll go chase birds and squirrels for an hour or so. After that, I’ll go to sleep for awhile, and in between naps I’ll tease my human’s other cat (her name is Peeka, and she’s OLD)……erm, well….I guess you’re right about the fact that cats sleep for that long during the day👀 Except my human wakes me up a lot, so sometimes I get less.

That’s still a lot of sleep. I’m curious, what dreams do you dream?

Oh, I dream lots of dreams…. Most of them involve me chasing mice or squirrels up skyscrapers in big cities, although I often have horrible nightmares of ENORMOUS dogs chasing me up trees… And then the dogs climb up the trees with me, even though in the real world, they can’t do that!  Those dreams scare me so much that I’ll get up and snuggle next to my human so that she’ll keep me safe.

What’s your favourite outdoor activity? I do love a good adventure in my backyard! You’d be amazed at how many creatures stop by there on an average day!

Ooooh, I’d have to say my favourite outdoor activity is stalking the birds by our front porch…. That and rolling around in the dirt, making all my white fur look brown. 😼

What do you do when your human doesn’t understand what you’re trying to say? This happens to me all the time; the elder humans at home come to my rescue when my human can’t sense anything through her human eyes.

I usually meow and whine very loudly when she doesn’t understand me….. it doesn’t really help her to understand me, but at least I can express my frustration.

Do you wish you and your human had telepathy? I do.

Definitely! That would make my life so much easier!

Ooh, have you ever travelled in a car? My family takes me for all the long trips and I get to sleep the whole way and it’s a bonus to get pampered for consecutive days! Now, why would I complain!

The only times I’ve ever been in the car is to see the vet, and so being in the car is a living nightmare to me….. I usually complain very loudly, hoping that they’ll change their minds and not take me to the vet, but it never works….

If you could speak the humans’ language, what’s the first thing you’d say?

I would probably say “Don’t touch me!” When my human’s sister tries to pick me up, orrrr “Let me out!!!” When nobody will let me out of my human’s room.

Who is/are your best friend(s)? I love everyone in my family! The cats are a bit weird (no offense) but they’re mildly interesting to watch!

My best friend is my human, and my human’s mother…. I don’t like the other cat (that’s ancient) very much…. She’s mean to me.

If the human world’s leaders decide to set up a Cat Parliament, what would you want to be? Any laws you’d want to introduce? I’d want to open schools with dog instructors (with free snacks and toys!)!

I would want to introduce a law that all cats should be provided with an unlimited supply of catnip and tuna….. That would make our lives so much more enjoyable😼

Finally, what’s your life’s motto? What inspires you to do your best when you can’t find a cozy enough place to sleep?

My life’s motto is…. “You can never get too much sleep,” What inspires me to do my best when I can’t find a cosy enough place to sleep? Food😼

“Cats are a mysterious kind of folk.”
― Sir Walter Scott

Click here to read my answers to Huckleberry’s questions!

Thank you so much for answering my questions, Huckleberry!!
Since you’re here, why don’t you meet my friends from the blogospere too?

Meet Rocket!

Source: Diamond

Ava says hi!

Source: Shanessa

Aw..say hello to little Oreo!

Source: Evin

And that was all! I loved getting to share a bite about all of us with you all! Got any four-legged friends I could befriend? Let me know!

bye!

Thoughtfully yours,
Willy

A Thank You Letter to My Body

A Thank You Letter to my Body Random Specific Thoughts

Just a few days ago, I came over a heartfelt letter Shelly @ Growing with Spawn wrote to her body, after being inspired by the one Ang @ Lose Weight With Ang penned. It seemed like a lovely idea and I do believe it’s random acts of thoughtfulness like these that leave a generous impact on our mental health and on certain readers as well. I wasn’t sure of what to write but I decided to do it anyway! A huge thank you to Ang for this tag!
Before I begin, please make sure you check out the two letters below; they’re absolutely worth a read and resonate deeply on certain levels.

Writing Challenge : A Thank You letter To My Body // Lose Weight with Ang
A Thank You Letter To My Body // Growing with Spawn

Please feel free to join in on this and please don’t forget to tag Ang if you do!

“and I said to my body. softly. ‘i want to be your friend.’ it took a long breath. and replied ‘i have been waiting my whole life for this.”
― Nayyirah Waheed

Dear Body,

In all our years of knowing each other, I never once thought to thank you for being there, for being me, for being strong and just for being who you are. A week or so ago, when one of my cousins were visiting, I sat with her infant son for a while; just watching him sleep and smile in his peaceful slumber, every now and then. He was tiny, just about the length of my forearm. I’ve never had younger siblings or been around babies much, but the fragile charm he exuded was profoundly strong.

I can’t believe we met when, you were that tiny or that I was born as you. The fact that you’re the one who holds my mind close when it threatens to break away, tether my thoughts and dreams to reality or that my hands that are attached to you are the ones who do everything that I love are truths that are now beginning to dawn on me as I remain speechless not knowing why or how I didn’t see it before.

We’ve had a rocky relationship because of all my allergies and our mutual disinclination towards food and while I don’t regret our food choices much, I wish I could treat you to a healthier lifestyle. I’m sorry for all the times I picked on you, for not carrying yourself gracefully, for the times I wanted you to be, who we both weren’t and especially for all the times, I tried to pretend you and me just didn’t exist in the other’s illusion of the world.

Photo by lucas-mendes on Unsplash

I’m sorry I consistently subject you to my erratic sleep patterns and then drag you out of bed just because sleep doesn’t come easy; for I never let it feel welcome either. I wish I could take you out on more walks and give you the brief respite outdoors, you scream for on some days. I hate that I prioritise my relentless procrastination when you are in need of help and attention. I so appreciate all the hours you let me stay up, no matter how ungodly the hour may be; and I love and appreciate how you always succeed in dragging me out of bed in the morning, in time for school irrespective of whether or not, I let you succumb to sleep at night.

Dear body, you have been kind and occasionally rather hard on me, but I now realise all the strain and pressure I forced you to go through was even harder and I apologise for my inconsiderate behaviour. You’ve been there for me when no one else has, you’ve stood up for me and given me a voice and I’m so grateful for all of it. I thank you for accepting all the awkward falls and stumbles without any acknowledgement of the pain that followed and for getting right back up, like nothing had ever happened.

I hope we can learn to get along better with each other. I’ve grown so much from that fragile child I see in photos and know, as long as I breathe, it’ll be you who carries me through.

Much love,
The child you shelter

“I am getting used to my voice not sounding like an apology, my hair looking like a thunder storm, my face resembling a calamity, my smile looking like jagged tombstones, my soul feeling like an abstract art.”
― Ayushee Ghoshal, 4 AM Conversations


Thoughtfully yours,
Introverted Thoughts aka D

In Burgundy

In Burgundy | Poetry Random Specific Thoughts

“Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It’s a way of understanding it.”
― Lloyd Alexander

Under a temporal roof, does
This tale take place.
When they refused to stand
For fear of falling,
In Burgundy, we chased the stars.

Forgotten thoughts left to oscillate
Between realms unknown, were all we were.
As daisies* withered
Under stares of scrutiny,
In Burgundy we blossomed.

Victims of hope, were we
Who challenged gods and fate.
In wars for change and progress,
As we lost fragmentary pages to the wind,
In Burgundy we defied paths unknown yet.

Akin to the setting sun
Of time, we were in dearth.
Whispers left unspoken
Drowned love, that ran out of people.
All the while Burgundy sewed stitches ten .

In Burgundy, life goes on
Fueled by the fluid of passion
That runs deep in our roots.
In Burgundy, children speak
For their dreams and desires.
In Burgundy does hope reside
For beats here, the heart of the just.

“Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisioned by the enemy, don’t we consider it his duty to escape?. . .If we value the freedom of mind and soul, if we’re partisans of liberty, then it’s our plain duty to escape, and to take as many people with us as we can!”
― J.R.R. Tolkien

*Daisies symbolize innocence and purity.

Quick note: My friend, Diamond @ Build A Bears Furever is hosting a photostory contest to observe her fourth blogiversary! The best part is, you get to choose which of her bears play your characters (if you want) and believe me when I say, she’s got all sorts of bears with different outlooks and personalities! I’d absolutely love it if you could check out this post and participate!

And today is March 21, World Poetry Day! “World Poetry Day is celebrated on 21 March, and was declared by UNESCO in 1999, “with the aim of supporting linguistic diversity through poetic expression and increasing the opportunity for endangered languages to be heard” {Wikipedia}


Poetry is an ethereal form of expression and an embodiment of beauty, a free channel of speech, open and accessible to all. It isn’t all writing; akin to how Walt Whitman says in his poem, The Voice of the Rain; that rain is the earth’s poem, poetry is around us in all forms of beauty. I’m so thankful for all the wonderful poets I’ve met here and whose books I’ve read. Keep writing and inspiring!

Thoughtfully yours,
Introverted Thoughts aka D