And the wind blew.

[lovefromgirl]

And the wind whispered in my ear: Albatross, go!
Drop your white feathers on this black-heart world.

So I will drop them, one by one, and this is how they fall:

I dream of making ragdolls for children who have no-one else to hold. I remember running my fingers over the heart of my Raggedy Ann, whispering "I love you", telling myself it had to be true. Now that it is, I must pay it forward. Someone must love them. People die of heartbreak as surely as AIDS and malaria. Someone must take that lonely look from their eyes.

I dream of going to Mumbai, queen of cities, and telling her story -- for remembrance only. For those who were silenced. The world reached out when we knew pain. Now India's pain is mine. This is only fair. I will tell of a child whose nanny grabbed him and ran, and another child who died with her father in a crowded hotel. I will tell of the man who died commanding the rescue effort. I will tell of the bodyguard who led the fearful to safety.

I will tell of the man who fell as he closed the shutters on his own family.

And I will praise the five-lakh award to the families of the dead, even as I marvel that ten thousand dollars could be a fortune anywhere. Imagine: in a year's time, I could have ten thousand dollars safe in the bank.

I will love this world, because not enough of its people do. I will try to understand the incomprehensible; every idea made sense in one mind once upon a time. I will listen to voices instead of turning my back. If we do not listen, they will scream and then they will shoot. That is the new way of things. Perhaps if we hear them out, we can avoid the shooting part.

I won't ask the gods for lottery winnings, because my parents only want them for us. I'll pray that the money goes where it is best used. If it passes through my hands at some point, fantastic; it won't stay in those hands for long if there are needier hands reaching out.

I will build my safe haven. More than just a flat, it will become a home, full of laughter, light, and the smell of home-cooked food. I will invite those I love to share it with me, however briefly, and when they go back to their own homes, their bright spirits will linger.

Comments

[poelaramont.livejournal.com]

This is good. Fly on, Albatross.

[lovefromgirl.livejournal.com]

Ten-four, Monkey God.

[lovefromgirl.livejournal.com]

*bows*

I like to think I've learned beauty over the years from those who have always shown it. Poke. Nudge. Snuggle.

[cieldumatin.livejournal.com]

Eloquent as ever. *hug*

[lovefromgirl.livejournal.com]

My beloved, your praise means so much to me. We're about to set out; Mum's taking her sweet time, naturally, so I'm using my few-minutes-more productively. :-)