birthdays or begetting days?

I do not know, which one to celebrate. Honestly the thought of celebrating makes me homesick! Besides there is that feeling of loss of childhood, and emotions run high.

I was one of those kids who remained shut in a room on their birthday, lamenting the loss of another year of life, and the approach of adulthood. Now I realize why I did so. There is a tendency in us to prevail in the present and resist changes. The degree of it varies from the conservatism to fundamentalism. The forms of conservatism vary from that old lady who tries to appear young, to the person who practices and preaches radical religious ideas. This tendency to resist change are seen at places where it is required to revert to old agrarian way and at places where the change influxed by western ideas in the oriental societies are met with resistance. Have anyone wondered the reasons for that? Although I mention only two ends of a spectrum, the human tendency to resist change is universal. The reasons need to be investigated further.

Now coming back to the point, I have got rid of the habit of moping by myself. And I am debating on whether I should or shouldn't celebrate my begetting day next year. That is my not so formulated plan for some embarrassing conversations with my parents ;)

Pieces of moon

It was 2 in the morning, yet she was not able to sleep. She tossed and turned, as she tugged her sheets. When she realized there was no point in remaining on the bed, she got up and walked to the table where she had started to work on another jigsaw puzzle, a picture of a moonlit night. She looked at the printed image on the box, and decided she wanted to put together the pieces of moon. She kept on searching among more than 900 pieces, where most of them were itty bitty pieces of clouds and moonlit surfs. As she kept on meticulously searching for those pieces, she wondered, "How ridiculous! Why am I trying to find pieces of moon among the clouds?"

The Carver by The Lake

It was not beginning, yet it was time, the time for the beginning of His children. And He was by the Lake none beside Him except His most precious thought, His Wisdom. She alone watched Him as He carved and none besides her saw Him as He labored. While He carved, she brought Him more clay. [1]

“When they awake, they will be awestruck at the sight of stars.”
“Indeed.”
“Varda has done her task well. But will You not reveal Your Grace to them?”
“All in time. They have a journey to make.”
“You will let them stumble, won't you?”
“They have a choice to make. That is why I kindled them.”[2]

She sighed and went on to weave about Eruhíni a shelter from the extremities of Arda. [3]

Knowing His thought, He said, “You remember Melkor's hunt for you, don't you?”
She once again sighed, “How can I forget! When he should have looked within himself, he searched in the void.”
“You know, he will search for Your children to quench their Flames.”
“Indeed.”
“Will you not guide them, when they seek it?”
“You are there.”
“I can not help them once they are corrupted, unless they turn to You.”
“I know.” [4]

Once again, He resumed His work. As He looked at the sleeping forms of His children, He smiled and the Love that shone in His eyes surprised her.

“You know well that You never cease to amaze me.”
“I like surprises, and I never cease to surprise.”

Wisdom laughed gaily at Her Sire's remark, and her laughter echoed throughout Eä; and the children smiled even while they were sleeping. She caressed their dark and fair heads as she moved about them.[5]

She once again looked at Her Sire.
“You have more thoughts?”
“You do favor some of them above others, don't You?”
“I do and do not favor one above the other.”
“Then why do I get this feeling that You like Your second born better?”
“They will have to toil harder against the one on whom I bestowed more favor than others.”
“You know he was the first to decline me. I will not be surprised if more of Your children follow.”
“You still love them, even if you call them fools.”
“What a paradox! You kindle them with me, but still make them reject me with that same flame.”
“I do not make them, but it is their choice.” [6]

She once again resumed her silence as she continued her work. While He gave the last touches to His work, He sighed. “They will all come to me. All in Time.” Once again He turned His thoughts to His Wisdom. “You will guide them.”
“As My Sire asks whatever of me, I shall do. You know well, I can not aid those without a pure heart. It has already been an agony to see Your children suffer in their own folly. Time and time again it will come, when they forget me. Still I shall keep my ever vigilance for those who seek me.”[7]

---

Interpretation

He and His thought Wisdom are one and the same, the one and only Eru. This is not a schizophrenic depiction of Eru's mind, but rather one of my ways of telling His thoughts in a poem/story/essay. His Wisdom is depicted as a she, just to show that Eru being the supreme, is complete.

[1] The reference to clay indicates hroa of children are made from materials of Eä. This is a mythological world and here there is no scope for evolution. :D

[2] When elves awoke by the Lake, they were mesmerized by Varda's stars. Glory of Varda's handiwork or all of the Eä together is nothing compared to Eru Himself. And Eru has a desire to reveal His Glory and shower His Grace to His children whom he kindled with flame imperishable. (I also interpret flame imperishable as the aspect of Eru which gives free will and life to the beings He created.) His Children did stumble in their voyage, both elder and younger ones. Eru chose not to intervene in Eä, so as to have His children exercise their free will.

[3] I do not think Eru clothed the children while they slept. When they awoke they were like new born, but he had to protect them from the extremities of the world while they slept.

[4] Melkor's hunt refers to his vain search for Flame imperishable which was set at the heart of the world. What is at the heart of the world? What is the hardest thing to understand? I think, it is one's own being and the supreme being. The heart of Tolkien's mythology is Eru creating His children, both First born and Second born. It is from there on, that his saga truly begins. So in a way one can think of life as heart of the world. In order to understand flame imperishable one has to truly understand oneself, and then only one can truly understand the supreme being. But in this effort, there is always that inner voice who offers the guidance.

[5] The selfless love of a Father to His children is indescribable. His joy in seeing his children sleep echoes throughout all Eä.

[6] Eru does not favor one above the other, but still it looks like He favors some. This is a paradox, just like the paradox that He gives life to His children, but let them give the choice to reject or accept Him. Melkor was given the most number of gifts when compared to other Valar, but he was also the first to deny His wisdom and fall into folly of pride and arrogance. When Melkor looked upon Eruhíni, he was clouded with jealousy. He saw them as his enemies and sought their annihilation, when he should have seen them as younger siblings and loved them. Both elves and men had to fight against Melkor for their survival. But it is the second born who has to live in Morgoth's ring till the end of time. In a way, for their suffering Eru seemed to have favored second born as they were given the gift of death to leave the circles of Eä to return to Him.

[7] The last act of giving the commission to guide His children is to be looked as a promise to His children that He makes. And in time or rather say at ending of time, all His children will be singing to Him again. Though fate of the elves are unknown, I do not think they will be left out from His Grace.

---

Guess what?

I am too lazy to write my own story, after building a world of its own. So what, I am making an effort to express. This is the latest thing I wrote other than corrections to my thesis:) It is set in Tolkien's mythological world, and is about the progression of life. This is just the beginning of a poem and the title is The Carver by the Lake. The lines, which you might think are in a strange language are simply the translation in Sindarin, an imaginary language by Tolkien. :D
So whatever you think, feel free to comment.

The Carver by the Lake

Epë i Nothril istas,
(Even) before the Weaver(Vairë) knew,

Io ennas, i Daerceredir nef i ael !
There once was, The
Carver by the Lake!

Sui Mudas, ara forvo În
As He carved,
by His side was

Angol În, cened sai pain!
His Wisdom,
witnessing it all!!



“Dîno a lasto!
Be Still and
Hark!

Sui iChwest thuia thar lhorn!
As The gentle wind
breathes over still waters!

Tira i vîw rhinc, a rincir!..”
See the little ripples, and they stir!..

Rest of the poem will be posted once I finish it. Hmm, when will that be?