Come back home, my dear

The sun dips lower in the sky, taking along my hope

A darkness descends, wrapping my world in its envelope

His arrival I await, at home, sitting at the threshold

Fearing the worst, trying to brave an internal cold

From the darkness emerges a darker form - an unsteady silhouette

I am not sure if I it is my imagination - it sways like a stringless puppet

I look sharply for a sign, any sign that says - no, he has been strong

My heart knows the truth, but I still hope to God - please prove me wrong

As he stumbles closer, the strong whiff is unmistakable

Oh, may be he has just had one or may be a couple

And there are his bloodshot eyes - as red as my sindhoor

The dreadful proof that he had, again, surrendered to the lure

I could just push him off a cliff right now, give him so much pain

I could rip his face apart, beat him black and blue with a cane

I could slap him, cry out to him, scold and cuss

For letting this happen to him, to me, and to us

I stare at him maliciously, witnessing his blood red eyes drooping with shame

For letting his demons get him again, for letting the evil liquid win the game

I weep silent tears aware of his silent cry for help, for understanding and for care

For good or for bad, I am with him and this fight against his addiction, we both share

Is it really all gone?

The initial magic has worn off. They are now just a boring middle-aged couple, each caught up in his or her own daily lives. Gone are the good morning kisses, the starry-eyed staring at each other, rambling on and on in each others arms late at night, and all the other things that consumed almost half of the ‘honey moon years’.

She longs for those little gestures that used to make her days, made her feel wanted, made her feel loved, made her feel alive. Had she not vowed, as a teenager, that she would never let this happen to her life? Wasn't she determined never to get bored of her marriage?

She forgot how it felt to have butterflies in her stomach. She forgot how it felt to snuggle close to him on cold winter nights. She forgot the fun of pillow fights. 

How many days has it been since they spoke of something other than news during breakfast?

How many years has it been since they had called each other during work for something other than to remind each other of an unfinished chore?

How many evenings has it been since they sat together for something other than to watch the television?

How many nights has it been since they actually ‘shared’ a bed?

The sharp ringing of her phone snaps her out of her sad reverie. It is him calling.

But surprisingly, it is not his voice. She hears an anxious voice of a stranger. He is sympathetic and tries to break the news about the fateful accident as gently as possible. As he goes on rambling about how the accident happened, she blanks out, the phone falls off her sweaty palms, and she collapses on the ground.

How could this have happened? How could he be gone? What would happen to her now? Her mind becomes a mirage of confused feelings, coming and going.

Who would give her news briefs during breakfast in the morning?

Who would call her during work and remind her of an unfinished chore?

Who would she watch the television with, during evenings?

Who would she find beside her, when she wakes up in the middle of the night?

Oh, what would she not give up to have him back in her life! She didn't want any butterflies in her stomach or the silly pillow fights. She just wants him back!

She is oblivious to her phone that is still ringing and the impatient knocking on the door. She loses track of time and doesn't even know how long she sat there, sobbing and regretting. Suddenly, she sees an apparition, his apparition, in front of her. 

Is it a dream!?

She stands up and rushes into his arms. His palms smooth her hair, comfortingly till she comes back to her senses.

He is not an apparition, she realizes as sense dawns upon her. He is alive! Very much alive! He is here, in flesh and blood! 

But the phone call…? She is very confused! She is blabbering incoherently.

‘Honey! Someone stole my phone in the afternoon,’ he explains and tears of relief stream down her eyes. They are lost for words and fall asleep in each others arms.

The next morning…

As usual, the persistent alarm wakes them up. They hurry through their chores and before long; they are at the breakfast table.

As she listens to her husband’s news briefing, a line that she had read in a book years ago strikes her:

“Early love is filled with attraction. It is like a flower of a plant. It is beautiful, but it is delicate and fragile.

The love that comes later on is filled with responsibility. It is like the root of a plant. You may not be able to see it and it is not beautiful like the flower. But, do not forget that it supports and nourishes your entire life!”

Your Silent Heart to Mine...

You are a wonder, what goes on in your mind is a puzzle

Deciphering you, for me, was once upon a time a hassle

But now, I know your little secret which gives you away

Your beautiful eyes show everything that you cannot say

I stare into them, right into the depths of your heart

In the silence, I hear them speak to me and they tell me a lot

Your voice fails you, but your eyes never

I notice everything from a hesitant blink to the slightest flutter

When you are angry, they look like tiny balls of fire

In a peaceful time, a silent and comfortable look they acquire

The lashes, dark, long, and lush

Droop onto your eyes, when all you can do is blush

You are elated and I see them smiling with bliss

They pose endless questions when you are confused and find something amiss

Silent tears of pain at the corners show an intense anguish

A funny look your eyes wear, when you feel silly or foolish

Everybody calls you ill-fated

Some evil force had his wicked desire sated

You are not given a voice to speak out loud

But for me, your eyes are the biggest gifts with which you are endowed

Official Mistress

‘My lady, your loss is too great,’ she hears a gentle voice

Some compassionate mourner, someone trying to be nice

To acknowledge the greeting, she turns to the side

Yet, surprised she is to find no one there, except for her gloomy aide

Then it struck her, she wasn’t the Duchess, not the Duke’s wife

She has a label ‘the official mistress,’ though she loved him with her life

Mourners glide towards the Duchess, expressing their sympathy

While the mistress gets only awkward glances, disapproving stares, without the presence of any empathy

True! She had not vowed in front of God to be true to him in sickness and health

Yet, she had cared for him, with a heart pure, full of love, and no stealth

She was there for him during his good times and the bad ones too

She belonged only to him, her heart was pure, and her love was true

Now near the grave, the Duchess stands with her son, out of duty

A perfect widow, a picture of grief, yet manages elegance and beauty

She was the wife of a Duke and is now the mother of one

She looks at the mistress, her eyes mocking, ‘See now, who has won!’

Consoling herself that she has not yet lost everything

The mistress pats lovingly her belly, the only thing to which she has to cling

So what if she is the Duke’s mistress and what if she does mother a bastard

She walks out of the grave, holds her head high – a skill that she has, by now, mastered


Inspired from The Tudors - The plight of Charles Danton's mistress

Stranger in her Bed...

Her eyes full of sorrow, a part of her heart weeps, as she leaves behind her
Everything she's owned, everybody she knew - mother, father, sister, and brother
Yet, a larger part of her heart rejoices, as she knows that she now begins a life brand new
She looks with awe at her new husband, thinking she's among those blessed few

As her first day wears on, she looks from the corner of her eye for a sign from her better-half
She cannot follow him, as million eyes follow her, seeking for a serious gaffe
Treading carefully, slowly, she hovers around him, follows him like a shadow
Though he doesn't look at her in the eye, she can now see, plain and clear, his countenance is hollow

Women surround her, decorating her like a doll, they taunt her about 'the night' and giggle
They lead her to the room noisily, they laugh, tease, and tickle
The night approaches fast, her heart beats faster, as she senses her anxiety grow
He just stands there, not even glancing her way, why? the answer she doesn't know

Suddenly, it turns dark and she feels faint, as he undresses her and into her bed he climbs 
No love, no gentleness, like a blood-thirsty monster, onto her, he looms
As tears spill out, she bites her lip, bleeding it, stopping herself from screaming out in pain
She thinks the worst is over, and then she hears him screaming another woman's name again and again

Her eyes well up and tears warmly trickle down her face, which is now savaged 
She lay there, like a ragged doll, her heart broken, her body and soul ravaged
Her home, her life, and her dreams, all destroyed by a stranger in her bed
Is there no way out of this misery? Or is she as good as dead?

Letting Go…

She lay on the bed, weak and cold

Spending her last few moments in this world

And I try to prolong the life of her frail failing body

Making futile attempts to find some kind of remedy

She looks at me, her eyes all moist and hollow

They are begging me, ‘It does not work. Just let go!’

Her eyes say it all, though she doesn’t make a sound

She is writhing and wheeling in a pain too great and profound

But I can’t just give her up, can’t let her leave so soon

I am rather much used to her presence and not ready to feel this alone

A voice in me whispers in warning, ‘You are being selfish,

Foolishly believing in some miracle, some obscure life-saving fetish’

Now when I look into her eyes again

I am alarmed, as in them, I find a fierce rain

Red as blood, they are full of fury and extreme hatred

That look that I always avoided and dreaded

‘Let me die,’ she commands with her eyes

Transfixing me with that gaze of hers, filled with malice

In that stare, I see a murderous rage that pain brings

That demand to be freed from all the agony and worldly ailings

I pause and fixing my gaze with hers, I take a step backward

Lost in thought and retrospection and also a little bit scared

Even on her death bed, she is still the keenest

She does not miss my twinging in the least

As she sees me now, I see her look soften

She comforts me, ‘It’s OK. These things happen

Anything which has a beginning, has an ending

And surviving with that absence is all a part of learning'

Warm tears scour down, giving up

Releasing and delivering me from all the meaningless hope

As her dark eyes close slowly forever

I etch her face permanently in my mind – a memory that would part with me never

In favor of the practice of Euthanasia - mercy killing... Sometimes, giving up hope helps put your loved ones out of pain!

YOUR WRATH...

I finally took the courage to look at you
It has been so many days, but the pain was still there, clearly written on your face
Just one careless sentence and I broke your heart
Oh! What have I done?
I looked at your eyes, they were still raining fire
You looked back at me, as if daring me

I know not now how to take it back
Oh how I wish I had never said that !
How I wish we could go back to what we were!
How I wish I had used my head back then!
How I wish I could turn back time and change it all!
And Now, as I look at you, I still know not how to make amends

I want to say sorry
But I know it is too small a word to express my regret
Too small to disclose the war that is being raged inside of me
I swear I had never hated myself more
I couldn't look at you anymore and dropped my eyes, bent my head again, like a guilty prisoner
Guilty, I was! Guilty as hell!

I wanted to fall on my knees and beg for your forgiveness
But it was as if my knees are made of stone and
My voice got stuck in my throat
Oh please don't look at me like that
I feel like running away, I feel like dying
I feel like filth for hurting you

Oh please don't walk away like that
Please talk to me, please look at me
With those eyes piercing through my heart
So hard that I could feel the pain
All I need is to ask for another chance and
It wasn't supposed to be so hard

I gathered enough courage to croak, "mom"
Awkwardly, cowardly, feebly and shamefully
You looked back, still looking at me as if daring me
I deserved it and I knew it
So I went on, first stuttering, stammering and unsure
Looking here and there, avoiding those eyes of yours

But when I did glance at your face, I knew
You had been waiting for this, as much as I did
Now I looked straight into your wet eyes
I apologized, with moist eyes, I asked you for another chance
You smiled, the fire long gone from your eyes, with love and reverence in its place
As for me, I felt so light, so light that I thought I was floating in the sky!

LEARNING REALITY...

Innocent heart filled with joy

Floats amidst the clouds

Envisages a colourful path ahead

Hopes, Fantasizes, Prays

Ignorant to the reality

Unaware of it's harshness

Two little hands; soft, fragile fingers

Yet bold and confident

Gradually, Prudently

Build block upon block

As the eyes spin

Dream upon dream...

Suddenly, without warning

A torrent breaks

Flooding everything on it's way

Spelling a spate of destruction

Hurling the carefully arranged blocks

In all directions possible

Mercilessly breaking them apart...

The hands, no longer soft

Withered with disappointment and defeat

With the precious dreams shattered

The eyes are filled with tears...

A broken heart filled with sorrow

Gropes in the dark

Tries to gather it's pieces

Cries, Laments, Mourns

Learning Reality

Knowing now, it's harshness...

AFTER LOOSING HER...

Skin pale and white; as white as the bed sheet, on which she lay.
Face wrinkled; the folds seem to grow by the minute.
Drained of blood; life seems to be slipping off silently from her weak body.
Eyes closed, as if in a deep sleep; in peace with the world.
Hair scantier and whiter than ever; her age suddenly seems doubled.
Thin tubes running through her nostrils, lips slightly agape.
A wired clip on a finger of her left arm and an I.V. adorning it; rudely needled into a bulging blue vein on the back side of her palm.
My old woman was feebly fighting with death and we all know the outcome of the struggle.
I see no movement in her. She is as still as a stone.
The machine behind me is still beeping rhythmically and the quickly disappearing misty film in her oxygen mask is being replaced continually; I understand that she hasn't yet given in.
I walk away from her, stand at the window, looking out at nothing in particular.
"What should I do now?" I ask myself, "Whom should I turn to when I'm distressed? Whom should I seek when I need company? Who will be there for me, with me in this old age?"
Our fights, our reconciliations; Our arguments, our agreements; where would they all go now? Am I supposed to be content with memories, just memories?
I feel blank and numb, as I recollect the life I'd spent with her:
The beautiful girl, who blushed red the first time I looked into those pretty little eyes.
The wonderful lover, who easily slid into my arms when I sought her arm.
The sensitive dame, who shed tears when I was angry with her.
The passionate woman, who cried out of happiness when we were united in a wedlock for ever.
The crazy lady, who screamed and hurled things at me when she was mad at me.
The loving mother, who was the best my kids could ever have.
My best friend, my solace, my love and my everything.
Unconsciously, I smile as I remember every phase of our lives we'd had together-the good moments, the bad ones, the bittersweet times that we had shared-the first touch, the first kiss, the first child, the first house, the first car...the last kiss, the last breakfast together, the last fight, the last holiday... the first everything and the last everything.
I go back to her and touch the back of her hand, it is as cold as ice. I look at her face and am taken aback! Her eyes are open! Her lips are bent in a beautiful smile! She still looks stunning.
Without warning, the machine behind me suddenly emits a continuous sound. Alarmed, I shoot it a look and teary-eyed, I look at her again. Her pretty little eyes are still looking at me, lovingly and the mist in the oxygen mask clears out completely to reveal her smile.
Looking at her now, I decide: Of course! Her memories are enough to keep me going. She is not here with me, but her love is.
I bend forward, kiss her palm and tuck it safely inside the blanket, as tears stream down my cheeks.
I get up slowly, take my stick and walk out towards my children, who wait anxiously to abide by my wish to have a last few minutes alone with my wife!
Ironically, they turn out to be her last minutes too!!

I'M A MOTHER...

The moment I took him in my arms, the wailing stopped. It was replaced by a soft mumbling. He seemed to feel at home. The wrinkles on his face gradually softened, the frown between his eyebrows unknotted and his features registered a look of peace. He looked happy and at peace with the world. Tears ran down my cheeks as I realized that he actually knew the feel of my touch. He moved his tiny limbs feebly, unlike his earlier frail attempts to kick them frantically in the air. I didn't even know how long I'd held him. I watched on as the world's most beautiful thing fell asleep in his mother's loving arms. Right then, I knew that he is the most important thing in my whole life and the best thing that had happened to me.

We were together almost all the time. My thoughts, my world, my everything spiralled down, centered around him. I spoke with him, even though people reminded me, "he is a little baby. He wouldn't understand a thing." I paid them a deaf ear. "My son is far more intelligent than they know. He understands everything I say," was my stubborn notion. I played all sorts of silly games with him. I had spent every waking moment with him, marvelling at him, thinking what I'd done to deserve this wonderful gift. And when I slept, I had him beside me, held on to him, afraid to part with him even for the fraction of a second.

His first word was 'ma', like I'd always known and imagined and my dear little boy didn't disappoint me. The sound was like music to my ears, the sweetest thing I'd ever heard till date. I could not stop crying the whole day.

He took his first step and I clapped and jumped, pride filling my heart.

He curled his tiny fingers around mine when he slept and I thought, "I'm his saviour."

He fell down, got hurt and I felt a piercing pain that seemed to tear my heart apart.

He cried if he didn't find me beside him when he woke up and I felt happy that he missed me.

He went off to school and I missed him terribly.

He brought home an ailing puppy one day and nursed it back to health and I was moved at his kindness.

He brought home a trophy another day and I was proud of his achievement.

And then...

He brought home a couple to his buddies and I knew his horizon was expanding.

He never seemed to be alone, and I understood that there are other people in his life now.

I dutifully packed his lunch boxes. which were mostly returned uneaten and I struggled to make tastier food for him.

I quietly looked on as he drove away to parties with his friends.

I craved for his company as he hardly stayed at home now.

My heart leapt with joy when he occasionally smiled at me or when he gave me a peck on my cheek.

I wished I could be like one of his friends, and I could have some of his time. I tried to bridge the generation gap between us.

And one fine day...

He brought home a beautiful girl said, "Ma, I'm in love. I want to marry her." I looked at his innocent face and suddenly realised how quickly time has passed, how big my boy has grown. This was bound to happen and I knew it. I had always wanted it to happen. Yet, it wasn't altogether clear to me if I was happy or sad.

I was overwhelmed that he would now be a man, have a family, a wife, kids and all. Yet, the thought that another woman became a lot more important for him made a lump form in my throat. Does he still love me? I fought back tears- I wasn't sure if they were happy tears and plastered a smile across my face to show my assent, lest he would become upset with me. I felt silly, like a stupid little girl.

Joy twinkled in his eyes as he came closer to me and gave a peck on my cheek, whispered in my ear, "I love you ma. You know you are the best!" He looked at me, gratitude in his eyes. Of course, my approval does matter to him. He does love me, my dear boy!!! The best son anyone could ever have!!!

I smiled and this time, I'm smiling with pure bliss!!!

Inspired from one of the most loving mothers I had ever seen (my mother-in-law)

WHY DO WE SHED TEARS?

Why do we shed tears?
A doctor says that tears are some sort of secretions of Lachrymal glands present at the base of your eyes.
A chemist says that tears have anti-bactericidal enzymes that protect the eyes.
But, are they just that- some salty drops of water oozing out of eyes, keeping them safe?
May be not...
A mother sheds tears, while dressing the bruises of her child...that is love.
A father sheds tears, when his child receives a trophy for his hard work...that is pride.
A teen-aged girl sheds tears watching an incredibly romantic movie, looking at the girl in absolute bliss, in the arms of her man...that is fantasy.
A lover sheds tears, when she terribly misses the love of her life...that is yearning.
A student sheds tears, when he flunks an exam...that is failure.
A new bride sheds tears, while leaving her loved ones behind to follow her husband into a new life...that is affection.
A wife sheds tears, when she can't reach her husband and for no apparent reason, he isn't home yet...that is concern.
An old woman sheds tears, when her son finally comes back to her to take care of her...that is joy.
A prisoner sheds tears, when he realizes his mistake...that is regret.

Tears are with us in every walk of life, accompanying every deep feeling.
They show how much we love or care. They show how happy or sad we are.
They lighten our mood, make us feel better, while going through a tough period.
Tears are not something to be ashamed of. They are not a sign of weakness, but of emotion and passion!

YOU AREN'T HERE...

At first, there were tears
And then, when the reality dawned upon me harder, there were more tears
And then, there was this intense pain
Excruciating, stabbing at my heart mercilessly
Shooting through my veins, making me wince, cry out loud
For you aren't here to comfort me...


And then I was tired
Tried of all the crying, tired of the pain I'd been through
Surprised I'm not yet dead
Its now a void, an abyss, a nothingness
For you aren't here to fill me and complete me


I close my eyes, I drift off into a deep sleep
Not wanting to get up
I want to believe its all a nightmare
And I would find you here beside me when I wake up
But you aren't here to say in your calm quite voice, "trust me."


"It was a dream. Wasn't it?" I ask people when I do wake up, occasionally
They keep their sad lips pursed
The answer written on their faces
I go back to sleep, afraid to get up and face the music
For you aren't here to give me strength


People advise me to let in some fresh air
Take a short walk , feel the bright sun
But I want all the doors closed,
All the windows shut and all the shutters drawn
I want darkness all around me
I want to lose myself in it
I want it to engulf me, eat me up
For you aren't here to pull me out, lock me in your embrace, look into my eyes and say, "everything is gonna be alright"


I feel numb, feel no pain now
I neither laugh, nor cry
I neither sigh, nor do I smile
I'm dead inside
For you aren't here to make me feel alive


I had never had to think about this earlier
But now that you are gone,
I realize...
Your life was my life
Your death is my death


And then...
As days pass, the cloud begins to clear, the wounds heal
A thin ray of fresh light from somewhere enters
Bringing with it a new hope
A voice within me emerges from nowhere
I realize... that it belongs to you!


It smiles at me, soothes me
Guides me into a new life
Helps me build it anew, emerge from the ruins
A life, which is not as beautiful
But still, it is what it is... 'LIFE'


I slowly learn, all over again
To talk, to smile like a baby taking its first lessons
To laugh when something is funny
To cry when I feel sad
Its you and your voice that do the magic, once again
And I fall in love with you all over again


I finally learn...
You aren't here, but your love is still with me
You aren't here, but I still need to be
To love you forever
To remain here as a sign of your love
To remember you and cherish the memory of your existence
And... to live my life!!!




Inspired from the book P.S. I Love You (by Cecelia Ahern)

AN IMAGE FFROM THE BEAUTIFUL PAST...

I felt a tugging at my shirt and I looked down. A little child was trying to get my attention, looking up at me and smiling. It was a little girl, with an oddly familiar pair of large, dark, lively eyes and an even more intimate, smile. I was baffled! The resemblance was stark and striking.
They were the same black eyes. It was the same innocent smile. They were the two things I first got attracted to, so many years ago.
I was still speculating, fascinated, when I heard a voice-a voice that keeps ringing in my ears to this day, almost every morning, every night, all these years. I couldn't believe my ears! It was the same voice! It was her voice! I immediately spun around and there she was, walking quickly towards me, looking at her child, anxious! No sooner had her eyes turned towards me, than she stopped dead in her tracks and as I had expected, her eyes registered surprise and awe. Or was she shocked?
Those eyes... gazing into which, I used to see my own image, yet, completely forgot myself, utterly lost myself in their soft gaze...That was so many years back. Now I'm seeing them again, looking at me the same way they did back then. Her eyes were still the same, large, liquid, expressive. They looked just the same, except for a vague trace of the apparently newly-appearing crow's feet at their edges.
Now, as she blinked, a dark curl of her hair swept across her face, brushing her skin lightly. Unconsiously, her hand raised to her face, and she twisted the lucious ringlet, between two of her long, slim fingers and tucked it discreetly behind her ear, gracefully, just like how she used to do when she caught me staring appreciatively at the curls of her hair flying against her face. Her hair...into which, I gladly buried my face, inhaling its dainty frangrance and played with it, feeling its softness...That was so many years back. Her hair still looked the same, excpet for a few grey strands here and there.
And now, I could see her lower lip trembling slightly. She immediately caught it tight between her teeth, sending a shot of pain across my heart. I wanted to run to her and rescue her lip of the menacing hold between her teeth. Her rosy lips...which always had an innocent, never-ending smile. Her lips...which had felt so soft and passionately receptive when I kissed.
She looked the same-exactly the same. '...except that she'd gained a little weight,' the logical corner of my mind tried to intervene. But my eyes and my heart proclaimed that she still looked gorgeous. For me, undoubtedly, she is the most beautiful woman in the whole world. If anything, her womanly grace seemed more beautiful than her frilly innocence. There was this mysterious dignity about her now, which looked like a perfect blend of maturity and chastity.
I, myself, was surprised at the reaction of my own body and heart to her presence. There was no hunger, no urgency, like before. But still, just like before, my heart still beat fast and galloped, threatening to jump right out of me, at that moment. And my body, though didnt show any signs of carnal desire, still craved for her soothing, reassuring touch, telling me silently that everything is going to be alright.
Yes! I wish she were mine. I wish she were with me now. I knew it was impossible. What I didnt know was whether she felt the same about me. I wished I could read her thoughts. I wished I could ask her what was going on in her mind. I wished I could talk to her just once.
She opened her mouth as if about to say something. And as we gazed at each other, neither of us noticed her daughter running towards her. When the little girl hugged her mother, she gave a start as if she woke up from sleep. She looked at her little child and again at me. Resigningly, she picked up her daughter and tearing her eyes away from me, she turned away. I wouldn't swear on it, but I thought I had seen a tear spilling out of one of her eyes, just like it did on that fateful day, many years back, when fate tore us apart. Through misty eyes, I just looked on as she walked away from me again, after all these years.

WHY??!!

Why does the world look so beautiful?
Why is it suddenly filled with nothing but you?
Why was I destined to meet you?
Why was I meant to fall madly in love with you?

Why does a simple 'good morning' from you make me blush?
Why does the sound of your laughter melt my insides?
Why are my days and nights filled with thoughts about you?
Why cant I just get you out of my system?

Why do I always feel like talking to you?
Why do I always feel like listening to your voice?
Why do I miss you even when I'm with you?
Why cant I just get enough of you?

Why cant I even endure the thought of loosing you?
Why do I want to loose myself in your arms?
Why do I feel like living for you?
Why do I feel like dying for you?

Why is it that I cant be yours?
Why is it that I still love you?
Why does thinking about you hurt so much?
Why do I still feel like reveling in the pain?

Why cant I ever hate you?
Why cant I hate myself for loving you?
Why do I keep asking these questions over and over again?
Yet...why cant I find answers to any?

A BROKEN PROMISE...

“We’ll always be in touch,” we promised each other, amidst tears, “we’ll keep meeting every week.”

That was the day when we officially drifted apart.

These were the faces I had been seeing almost every day, for the past few years. These were the people, with whom I had shared joy and pain all these days. These are my friends, God’s present for me. All these years, my life had revolved pretty much around them.

I’d always thought we were inseparable. No one can ever tear us apart. Nothing could ever come in between us.

We were friends- the world’s best friends. I thought. When we had to go on in our separate ways, I was sad, of course! But, did it really matter? We can always keep ‘in touch!’ and also, there was that promise that we’d meet every week.

What I didn’t foresee was that the weeks would turn into months, and months into years. All of us got ‘unnaturally busy’ with our own lives, so busy that days passed and there came a point when we actually lost ‘touch.’ We no longer know what’s going in each other’s lives. The promise broke.

Even today, I keep wondering where all those magical moments had gone, when we all spent blissfully in each other’s company, where all the laughter had gone, where the magic bond that had kept us together had vanished.

Do my ‘friends’ feel the same way? Do they think about me? Do they miss me? Do they at least remember me? I have no way of knowing.

Somebody was so true when he said, “Life is like a train journey.” The person sitting right next to you is just a fellow passenger aboard. He might accompany you till the end of the journey or descend in the middle, and leave you to complete the rest of your journey alone.

BREAK UP...

The wind was gentle and cool. The full moon shone brightly in the night sky, enveloping the surrounding area in a silvery white embrace. I was walking bare-footed in the soft sand, beside him, hand-in hand, my palm enjoying the warmth of his. I felt as if I was dancing to the music of the waves lapping against the shore.

What more do I want? I wished this moment would never end. I sighed sadly, reminding myself that by tomorrow at the same time I would be thousands of miles away from here, away from him.

This was where I belonged, with him, beside him, close to him. This was what I wanted, to be able to see his face, his eyes and his smile always. I smiled contentedly.

Who said maintaining long distance relationships was hard? In love, distances never matter! To people in love all that matters is love, trust and a sense of belonging to each other.

The very thought of not being able to snuggle close to him in bed, see him sleeping peacefully beside me when I wake up in the morning brought tears into my eyes. If only he made a promise of commitment, a commitment that would last a lifetime, I would happily give up my career and everything else just to be with him, live with him, make him happy. I wondered when that moment would arrive and I suspected that it was not very far away.

I looked at him. He stared ahead blankly. It was strange because he was never usually quiet. In fact, he had been quiet most of the day and I surely didn’t like it. Something is bothering him.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” I finally broke the silence, and stopped walking, my hand still in his. He started and looked at me with the same boyish innocence that made me go gaga over him a few years back, drove me nuts and resulted in me spending numerous sleepless nights when I first got attracted to him.

But, hold on! Something was missing there today. I tried looking deeper. Something didn’t look good. He is surely hiding something from me. Was it something related to us? Me?

“What’s bothering you? Are you alright?” I asked him half-suspiciously.

“No,” he stammered, “I mean…yes. No!”

“Honey,” I said touching his cheek lightly with my other hand, “what ever it is, you know you can tell me.”

He looked at me nervously. His eyes spoke for me, though his lips didn’t move. Suddenly, something he had said earlier flashed in my mind.

“I had no idea maintaining long-distance relationships is this hard. Why does it have to be this way?” he had said. I hadn’t paid much attention to it back then. But now, I could read the message plainly on his face.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

The implication of the last few words had crossed my mind and I slowly retracted my hand from his, moving away from him, in sheer horror.

“You don’t mean it, do you?” I could barely find my voice. Tears welled up in my eyes. His own eyes grew moist as he looked at me and meekly whispered, “I’m really sorry!”

I wanted to scream at him.

I wanted pummel him.

I wanted to fall on my knees and beg him to give ‘us’ another chance.

I wanted to faint.

I wanted to die.

I wanted to do anything, anything at all that would change his mind.

But one look at his face and I understood that it was all over.

I had traveled for what seemed like and eternity just to see his smiling face, to hear him say, “I love you,” not “its over.” No! I can’t bear hearing him say that!

Oh! How much I wished this was all a nightmare. I can open my eyes and it would be over.

Oh! How much I want him to take me into his arms and say that it was all a joke!

How much I want him to kiss me!

How much I want to hear him assuring me that he would always be there for me!

But, he just stood there staring at his feet like a faulty schoolboy. Why doesn’t he say anything? Does he think that there’s nothing left to say? Well! If that is what he wants, if he thinks he doesn’t need me anymore, so be it.

I quietly moved away as my heart grew heavy, tears streaming down my face and started walking away from him, never looking back at him once.

With every step I took, I felt the distance between us growing, I felt a pain like never before- the pain of tearing myself apart from him. I still hoped he would stop me. He didn’t. As there was nothing else left for me to do over here, I walked into the darkness.

IN THE HEART'S CORNER...

I sat at the window looking out of it. The evening forecast had proclaimed a rough whether and the weather was solemn enough to keep its promise. The winds were wild and it looked as if it would rain any minute now. The condition of the whether somehow, matched the tormented thoughts running through my mind. I pulled together my loose hair into a tight knot, simultaneously trying to pull my thoughts together too. I comfortably leaned against the soft cushion and continued looking outside. This was my favorite corner in my house. It had been since I was a very young girl. I looked around, drawing in the familiar sights surrounding me. The walls of my room are adorned with photographs. I had my books piled in a corner. And there was my study table, a witness to all my endeavors to become what I am today. I turned my attention back to the photographs that always reminded me of those sweet memories I'd compiled in the twenty two years of my life- my eleventh birthday, freaking out with my best friends, my graduation day, a fun trip I'd gone with my family and so on... I looked up at the tingling wind chime hanging from the window and smiled, sadly. I loved it, though the others in my family complained about 'the noise that thing makes.' I had always thought that it added a feminine touch to my room. Yes, this was my room, my favorite place in the whole world and this was my favorite corner, at the window, which I'd made with my own little hands, many years ago. I always sat here, thinking and humming the tunes of my favorite songs. Many a time, I slept into peaceful repose here. Now, as I sat here, brooding, a tiny tear rolled down my cheek. Why? I asked myself. Why do we get so much attached to things, lifeless things, in spite of knowing that they are not permanent?
I shook myself out of my reverie. I tried to reason with myself. Its not a time to be sad. In fact, I should be happy now. I'm getting married in a few days, to the man I'd wanted all my life. Yes! I should be happy and contented. of course, I'm happy. I'm excited about the new life that lay ahead of me. Somehow, the thought of loosing all that I'd owned all my life, the things, which I held very close to my heart and the grief that it had brought clouded my happiness and excitement. It'd never be the same again.
Will I ever be able to sleep in my bed again?
Will I ever be able to roam about my beautiful little house, singing loudly?
Will I be able to sit with my very dear family at dinner, laughing, as I'd done all my life?
Will I ever be able to sit on the porch with my friends, gossiping, cracking silly jokes and teasing each other?
No! It'd never be the same again. I let out a deep sigh...
Change is inevitable. I remembered what my mother told me once. Change is one of the most important ingredients of life. It is one of the forces that keeps life going on.
May be, its true! But then, why cant we welcome it open-armed always? Why do fee happy and sad at the same time? Well, I don't know the answer for that. All I know now, is that, whether I like it or not, 'CHANGE IS INEVITABLE!'




Inspired from my home in Dilsukhnagar, Hyderabad

HATE TO SAY...GOODBYE

You are special, mysterious and so much wild

You are packed with surprises unlimited

Life with you is like a miracle

And without you, it is lonesome and lull

I’d waited for so long now

Waited for your love…

Waited for you to open up

Waited for ‘us' to happen

I’d hate to say ‘goodbye’

But now, I can’t help it…

You seem so close to my heart some times

Yet, at other times, you look like a total stranger

But at the end of the day,

You make me feel so good

Make me realize the truth all over again that

You are my love, You are my life

You are my pain, You are my pleasure

You are my only hope, You are my destiny

I’d hate to say ‘goodbye’

But now, it is inevitable…

Its true…

I miss your laughter

I miss your tender touch

I miss your kiss

Miss all the moments I’d shared with you

I miss your love and…my life

I’d hate to ‘goodbye’

But now, I have no other choice...

THE BEGINNING OR THE END...

"No! Don't go! Please don't leave me alone. I was screaming within myself. But, I said nothing. I just forced a smile onto my lips. This was what my parents were worried about. And this was what my friends were scared of. In fact, this was what everyone was afraid of and I was no exception. Marriage to an Army Major is no easy affair... I knew it. But, it didn't help. I was in love and couldn't bear the thought of someone else in my life-not even in my wildest nightmare. "If I have to marry, it would be either him or no one," I declared with indefinite finality. My parents were dumbstruck and so were everybody else. I-who never really bothered about anything in life, I-who lead a life completely carefree and careless, fell in love!!!!! I fell in love-truly, deeply and madly in love... That was the first time I cared for someone else. that was the first time I felt like getting extremely close to someone-so close that he'll remain with me all my life. that was the first time I felt like offering myself to someone. It was a miracle! 'He' was the miracle!! His eyes are magic... His voice is magic... His touch is magic... His nearness is magic... Days with him were like 'a dream come true'... Nights with him were ecstatic... He is my addiction...my obsession...my desire... He is my love... He is my life... It felt funny at the beginning just to think that I could have such intense feelings or such a wild desire for someone. Now, it is no longer funny. I can only feel a deep sense of grief sending away 'my man' straight into the claws of the inevitable DEATH!!! I cant let him go... I cant let him die... I cant stop him...because, I had long back realised that he belonged to the nation first and only then did he belong to me... I watched his lean figure moving away from me. "No! Don't go!" I was still screaming within myself. "I'll be all alone. I cant face the hostile world alone. Please! Don't...!!" He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, as if he heard the agonizing cries within me. He turned back to look at me. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I looked at him, hopefully. He smiled at me for the last time and continued... I stood there staring at him, until he disappeared, praying silently... praying ardently... praying God to spare him... Praying that this should not be the end... This should not be the end...This cannot be the end... Or is it?! Hell! No!! It cant be!!! It was just the beginning of something much awaited. I just began my life with him only a week back!!!!

MEMORIES FROM THE PAST...

It was almost about ten years back, that I had seen the last of him.The memory still remains fresh in my mind.
The picture of the unmistakable expression of grief on his face was etched on my mind. It was a heart-breaking sight for me, continually blurred by the tears welling up in my eyes-it was equally hard for me, or probably, harder.
I had always dreamt of a beautiful life with him- the man who adored me and whom I adored. My dream never turned into reality. Life moved on and so did I.
Do I still love him? May be not. But, in some corner of my heart, underneath the memoirs I had been compiling during all these years are the memories I had shared with him...spent with him...
Gone were those days when I had spent almost every second either with him or his thoughts. Walking the beaches at evenings, dancing with him under the moon...these things seemed to have occurred just yesterday.
Do I love him? May be not. But still, I hold a special place for him in my heart. He would remain there always, as long as I'm alive.
Though fate had tore us apart, it cant take away from me his memories...not fate, not God, not anyone.
My eyes suddenly turned moist. I was crying???!!!
I felt a tugging at my dress and was instantly drawn from my thoughts about the past into the present, the reality. I smiled at my only child, as I lifted it up and walked away leaving the fragrances of the reminiscences from my past...