The Other Side

In the light,
we all shove,
the darkness,
hidden beneath us.
Rays of bright sunshine,
let us forget,
the loneliness
of the moon.
While catching,
the fireflies,
in the jar,
we dismiss their pain.
Enjoying the rains,
from our balcony,
we fail to see,
the drenched ones.
Amongst people,
we ignore,
our sadness,
until the coldness,
of our bed,
hits us.
Looking far away,
at horizon,
we manifest,
union of sky and sea,
While reality says,
their separation,
is for eternity.

A memory for my daddy

Dear Daddy,

On this birthday of yours, I want to unleash one beautiful memory that is part of you and me. I don’t know how much of it you remember now, after all, you have a terrible memory. But somehow as I am growing up in years, my mind wants to hold on to all the precious memories of my past. Unlike other families, we don’t have too many photographs of us. But I have memories that keep me going in difficult times. These memories remind me that I was, I am, and I will always be loved.

So please hold my hand, to walk back into the time when I was so little that you used to carry me in your arms and take me out for the simple pleasures of riding a bike.

The light breeze making my short hair sway, the rustling of our clothes against the wind, and the feeling of flying like a bird. You, me and our weekly Sunday rides, on your black atlas bicycle. The little me sitting in front, on the crossbar and you on the rider’s seat, taking us away from the chaos of the world we inhabited.

The roads awaited us, and we ventured on them as if we both were on a secret mission. The lanes were different each time, but the destination was always the same. The deserted road surrounded by Aravali range with big brickyards on the side, there stood a war memorial. Unbeknownst to many, it was a hidden treasure that you found for our outings. You would sit on one seat, smiling at me, and I would circle the memorial stone reading the names aloud. Sometimes you shared stories about different wars that the soldiers were fighting. You explained to me how the people named on the stone laid their life for the country we all call home. The little mind of mine would not understand everything that you would say, but it realized one thing at that time. The place of our outing is not a regular place, it was as sacred as a holy place.

At other times the two of us would sit in silence, each lost in musings of once mind. The silence taught me that sometimes it’s much more important to feel the same thing rather than having a conversation about it. After all, always talking doesn’t mean we are conversating. In that calmness, I learned to listen to my soul at a young age.

You gave me a precious gift daddy, and here I am merely attempting to preserve the memory of the beautiful experience you gave me. Thank you for the best childhood a child could ever ask for, from a parent.

Happy 64th birthday daddy, I wish good health and blissful days for you, in the years to come.

Love
Your only daughter

Petrichor

Here she comes
tiptoeing on the dry land
leaving the warm comfort
of dark clouds
engulfing all other odors
filling the air
with its sweet muddy scent.
The clouds roar
in pain of separation.
Striking lightning
and thunder on nature.
The soaked earth
bears their wrath
without a flinch.
Welcoming,
tiny big droplets
in its bosom.
She looks up
at her sad lover,
with a wry smile,
on her moon face.
As if,
concealing some
last secret,
to him.
The earth consoles her,
with a warm hug,
and wise words,
Sometimes to reach
the zenith
you need to pass
through the hell.

PS: The city has been showered with its first rain of the season, subsiding the scorching heat of the summer. And I couldn’t resist my temptation to roll down my words on the piece of parchment.

March Madness

March you made me feel seventeen again.
The month started with the trepidation of upcoming days,
Just like then where I feared about my last exams of school life,
This time the fear was different, but the jitters were the same,
I was seventeen again.
This March had tears too,
Just like then where I cried for the end of my school life.
The melody of life was jumbled up, and the future looked blurred,
I felt like a fool for being seventeen again.

I was reading Harry Potter then too,
And I read Harry Potter in this March also,
Cause I was reliving my seventeenth year unbeknownst to myself.

I was trying hard to conceal the darkness inside me
Shoving away the lurking shadows in the boxes of my concealed past.

This March I laughed a bit too, at silly things,
the funny cats and dog memes,

It was the night that brought with it, the stillness of my life.
I craved some moments to last forever,
Even though I knew there is nothing like forever,
But what can I say, after all, I was seventeen again.
The beauty of seventeen is, it has hope packed with layers of disappointment,
Whereas now, I need to search for light within.
This march I felt seventeen again,
With highs as high as hurricane high,
Lows as low as Mariana Trench.
The only difference,
Between then and now is,
The intensity of emotions,
The Mt Kilimanjaro of then became Mt Everest of now.
So this how my march begin,
and will end,
by being seventeen again.

Fading Memories

I recently read A Strangeness in My Mind by Orhan Pamuk. While I was reading the book, a strange feeling struck me hard inside my gut. I always boast about having an excellent memory, especially of people and places which hold special meaning to me. But it hit me that however good I may be, there will come a time that the memories I hold so dearly inside my heart right now will fade if I no longer share it with the person with whom I made those memories.

How do I reach this point, I will elaborate it now with the story of the book.
Mevlut is the protagonist of the novel, he is a boza seller(a Turkish drink), and he falls in love with a girl whom he met at his cousin’s wedding. The only thing that struck him hard about the girl was her big deep beautiful black eyes. He starts writing love letters to this girl and keep writing to her for the next three years during his military period. One day he realizes that if he wants to marry this girl he needs to elope with her, so he makes a plan with his cousin for this elopement. The idea is to pick up the girl from the garden at night and then walk towards some distance where his cousin has parked his van. He holds the girl’s hand and walks towards the parked car without seeing her face. And when he sees the face inside the vehicle, it hits him that she is not the same girl to whom he has been writing the letters. Now that they have made the mistake of running together, he accepts fate and marries the girl. And when he meets the girl Samiha( to whom he has fallen in love), in his marriage reception, he didn’t even recognize her.

Is this true that time makes us forget all the people whom we have lost to fate and destiny? Is it true that one day I will not recognize the person who meant so many things to me at some point in time? And suddenly I had this thought in my mind, which I wrote on my Instagram page too.

I have a fear that I will lose the tiny threads of my memories someday, like I will not able to recall some people who mattered to me at some point of time, I will forget the moments I have spent with them, the small talks we had or their faces, I have started losing some of them already. I fear I will lose more of it if I don’t store it somewhere. Hence I feel the need to write about all those trivial things that matter to me, the memories that impacted me as a person. Do you ever fear losing people or moments from your memory?”

Some people replied saying that they too have this fear of losing fragments of themselves. Hence they also write memoirs or write fiction to hold parts or pieces of their memories of people, who have long gone from their life but left them as a changed person. I feel a bit relieved now that there are people like me who hold their memories as close as me and they too store them in their words in open or in secret diaries or journals. And may be I am also fading or have faded from the memories of the people for whom I meant something at some point of time. Then I wrote these last lines for them.

“There will come a day, where you will need to clear the dust from your memories in order to catch the fading fragments of me.”

Missing you

I miss you,
Miss you terribly today.
The warmth of your hug,
The serenity of your smile,
Those love filled eyes,
Your fragrance,
Your fingers holding mine,
Telling me things will be alright.
I miss your silent presence
Next to me, in bed.
I wish I could crawl back
in the time,
lay my head on your laps.
I miss,
Your wet kisses on my face.
I miss,
holding your saree’s border
while crossing the street.
I miss,
You’re calling me Queen Victoria,
and bowing your head in front of me.
I wish,
I could go back inside your womb,
and be there always,
safe from the outside world.
I miss your hands,
wiping my flowing tears away.
I miss our laughter,
your jokes and our talks.
I wish,
I can be nine again,
where you were the cure,
for all my daemons.
I miss,
long head massages,
that you gave me
in my headaches.
I miss,
just being a daughter,
and nothing else.
I wish,
I could hide,
behind you,
like I used to do,
when someone unwanted approached me.
I miss,
Miss you Maa,
even though I know,
you are a phone call away,
But,
I miss being with you.
I miss you,
terribly, terribly today.

This song truly depicts my emotions right now. Listening it in a loop from last hour or so and letting my emotions flow freely, with my words and tears.

Let them flow

“As often, she laughed,
As rare, were her tears,
She let her laughter be with the people,
And took her tears alone, to her room.”

When I was a kid, I used to cry a lot, that’s what my relatives say, but my parents disagree with this statement. According to them, I was afraid of huge crowds, and strangers, hence I created havocs for my parents at my first family wedding when I was a year old, and that got stuck in everyone’s mind. Who says that the first impression is not a thing. But early on I learned the lesson that public crying isn’t a good thing. Maybe because I was teased a lot for it, I stopped crying publicly. Moreover, my parents weren’t into taming our young ego’s, so I learned that people try to cry silently if they feel wrong about something.

I am a bathroom crier, and I can stand in front of the mirror for an hour and can look at my tears stained face. I started doing it when I turned a teenager, where I was often fighting with my parents, or fighting with myself and these tears were my only savior. They set me free, free from all that was burning in my heart. And this habit of solitary crying has since been with me.

I still remember vividly when I first went to a hostel, and on the second day my dad called me up, to know about my wellbeing, I choked when he asked how was I doing. I had just come back from my first ragging session, and for an eighteen-year-old whose ego has never been crushed by an outsider this session was a slap on the face. My choking frightened my dad. Now my dad is someone who is not very good at handling the sudden burst of emotions. He angrily asked me why I was crying, and I had no answer because no one else was crying after the session. He was on a business trip in Mumbai, and he had called me during a dinner break in the middle of the meeting. He frantically called my mother and asked her to talk to me. My mom immediately called me back, patiently listened, and explained to me that I had to go through this process for my growth. Since that day I decided that I will never cry in front of anyone be it, my parents. But of course, I did, but seldom, mostly in the presence of my mom. If I remember my colossal outburst correctly even in front of my mother has only happened twice, where I have cried the whole night hugging her. And she caressed my hair whole night, letting me out all the hidden pain inside my heart. I am glad I was lucky to have her with me in both those moments because they were two losses that changed the course of my life.

But from last three days I am not feeling my usual self, its as if my heart has shrunk and slowly everything stored inside it has flown out, and the only thing I am left with is this unwanted sadness. This sadness has no reason, I was perfectly fine a few days ago, and suddenly this sadness has engulfed me. People who see me from outside won’t even notice a change. No one has noticed it till now, but its the lonely time where the birds of sadness come fluttering out in the open breaking the cage. I still try to rationalize this feeling by stating that I have been lately reading sad stuff. But then I read emotional books all the time, yet it doesn’t hamper my mood in this way. Another reason I gave myself is that I am PMSing, which could have led to this feeling, but my PMSing never includes mood swings, no I don’t get it. So finally I stopped rationalizing it, and let it be. I accepted the fact that I am sad without any reason, and I will get over with it.

So I came home, had a cup of hot chocolate, thinking it will improve my mood. Alas, it didn’t, So I listen this song which is very close to my heart in my sombre mood.

And let my tears roll down my eyes. Nothing works for me like tears, and when finally the rain of it shower down my eyes, I feel the birds flying away. Of course, not all of them have left the cage yet, and I am expecting a few more outbursts this weekend, to carry away the pain and sadness from my heart.
As Charles Dickens said in Great Expectation,

“Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before–more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.”

PS: Don’t feel sad or worried about me, I am ok, its just a phase and I will be over with it. So guys take care and have a nice weekend.

Dear Moon

#moon #yourstruly

Lying on my black couch
I peek at your bright face
I see you
Blushing, with love
The love
You are holding
Inside your mighty little heart
For the one you love.
It reminds me of our old days,
Your tapping on my window,
My coming out in the balcony,
To look at your pretty face.
Late nights,
countless talks,
And sharing everything
Under the same sky,
You have been my companion
in my lonely nights,
You still bring the warmth
to my little heart,
but when I see others
proclaiming you
putting your
mesmerizing pictures out
I feel sad,
As none of them,
Share their story,
It is like putting,
Your half heart out for someone.
You can never love,
Anyone, anyone
Half-heartedly,
And if you do,
then I pity you,
Because love means
Giving all of you away,
to that someone.
I wish that the one you love,
Will let the words,
Bleed,
To declare,
Their love,
For You.