Glimpses

Sinking

2010-09-13T10:42:00.002+01:00

it's remarkable how swiftly i'm
sinking
like quicksand my dreams, life, soul,
and being
are sucked into a vicious
vortex

how can you save a life that's
slipping
right through the gap between
your eyelashes,
the crevice between your
cracked lips,
the sliver of nothingness between
pain and more pain

it's a wonder that i still breathe
when the will has escaped me,
when the lights are out in my soul,
when the sweet smell of deliverance is all
i crave.

Age as old as time

2010-09-10T10:18:00.002+01:00

It's funny how we only get glimpses of wisdom...like it were something so rare, you can never really hold onto it forever. I suppose that's why wisdom is still respected. Because it is so difficult to find and when for a brief window of time it trickles through....oh, it washes your sullied soul with its pristine simplicity.

2009-02-10T03:34:00.001Z

As my eyes trace you
I realize the lightness
of your being.

---

Your long eyelashes,
your perfect lips,
your sweet-scented breath,
your firm skin,
the mosaic of scars and memories,
your elegant feet,
your eloquent fingers...

---

My heart is ever expanding
to
accommodate my infinite
love for you.

Dance Classes

2009-01-26T06:34:00.002Z

Every couple dreams of something fun, something elegant or something simply different from 'traditional' weddings. Similarly, we came up with a few 'different' things for our wedding. For example, our wedding card was a personal affair. We made a small booklet of our brief love story and gave it out as a wedding card to close friends and family. We also had early morning dance classes so we could perform a little number during our cocktail party.

I loved our morning intimacies...hanging about on the terrace watching the city wake up, playing with our fingertips while the thick air yawned across us, our quiet voices discussing our to-do list for the day, the comfortable silence during one of us answered a phone call. Most of all, I enjoyed how we helped each other learn the dance steps. I remember times when I rolled into his arm humming the Elvis number and looked into his eyes. His eyes are my pool of calm, reassurance and love. We used to lay on the couch and bean bag drenched in sweat after the dance class recuperating. And even at those time, we wore easy smiles of combined achievement on our faces.

Good start for the wedding, hey?

Still Falling

2008-03-24T20:28:00.002Z

The snowflakes
are like
a whisper
of our bitter
love.

***

The frosty wind
embraces me
much like the way
you have now
cast me in your dungeon
of hate.

***

I loved you deeply,
desperately, breathlessly
and honestly.
If you do not believe it,
bid me to and I will cut my chest
open to show you
your footprints on my
heart.

Simply Put

2008-03-18T22:17:00.002Z

The smoke engulfs your face as you stare at me in utter disgust. You've pleaded me so many times to quit smoking. I did. So many times. But I'm tired of listening to your addiction to appearances. If you have that, then I have cigarettes.

***

I gaze out from our window watching raindrops snail their way down. You promised to take me out tonight. You forget everything, Raghu. The first time we met, the first time you kissed me, the first time we had sex, the first surprise I gave you..I bet you've forgotten our first date. Do you know that I still remember the lunch you cooked for me? How you were amused that I bought the cheaper watch when I could've milked you clean? Funny, how I was more concerned about you than the abortion or the watch, for that matter. God knows, who you were screwing someone else when I was in the hospital! Now? I wait for you while listening to the sky crying for me. The sum of all my tears.

***

I think of the love you left behind. It breaks my heart to see you lying in that ice casket. I still cannot believe I saw you dead. It's been 4 years since your death and I still remember you like you are there. Odd how when I talk to your wife, I except you to be there waiting to talk to me. I miss you with an ache inside me. Still.

***

The farther I get from you, the more difficult it becomes to show affection. I wish you knew that. How is it that you do not love me the way I want you to? How is that you don't seek to understand me as deeply as I dig? Why is it that you're always too drunk to listen to me? You don't want to catch up. You say you miss me and I refuse to believe you. Coz if you did, you'd act like it. Simple as that.

Interior Monologue

2008-02-29T21:27:00.004Z

Time is slipping by and I feel like I'm not doing enough. I've got the resources, age, excitement, life and a mad desire. Yet, I sit still..not doing the many things I've wanted to do. Whatever happened about my backpacking through Italy, trying bungee jumping, scuba diving, travelling to wild and exotic places, meeting all kinds of people, publishing a tiny book of poems, visiting the 7 wonders of the world, driving up to Leh, skinny dipping, getting a tattoo, perming my hair, learning Portuguese or Arabic or Persian, going to a synagogue, living a couple of months in New Zealand, going camping, dining in a filthy expensive restaurant in France, relaxing with cocktails at a breath-taking beach, seeing sea-turtles or dolphins or polar bears, flying business class, visiting the temples of Nepal, snow boarding, driving an auto..and some more. My burning desires, the things I wanted to do when youth is on my side, are sitting in some corner of my mind collecting dust. I've not made enough friends, I've not cried like I was going to die, I only laughed till my stomach hurt once a month, I've not done enough wild things, I've not tried so many foods..sigh. What's happening to me? I've become one more of those people who simply lets life go by them trying to climb my way up to some stupid monetary, socially acclaimed pedestal. But is that my only achievement? What about the wonders that life and this world has to offer? Will I not atleast get to do and see a fragment of the things I aspire to??

I'm feeling this urgency growing inside me. My heart is blistering with this mundane, common-place life I'm leading. The achievements are all pointlessly ephemeral. I'm not going to carry memories of a scholarship to my death bed. I'll more likely think of Egypt, the ruins in Syria, car drives to the Turkish border, the cobbled road in Lincoln, our walk up to Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh, my semi-backpacking in Kerala and the impromptu 7 hours in the Colombo International Airport (yes, how boring! But weirdly entertaining). I have this all-consuming passion to do the things I want to do before I die. Now that I have a life-partner I want to share them with him. I wish we could do the many things I want us to do before our time runs out. I want us to hold hands and walk on the Great Wall of China, trek up the hills in Latin America, learn a dance form together, go skinny dipping in the Maldives, live for a couple of months in some exotic country, try strange food in Eastern Europe..there are so many things we must do together. When will I find time for them?? In this endless humdrum of research work, his business deals, you earning money (and me spending it!), family, plans for the future, our deadlines..where will the time come!? I want me, us, our families to have memorable experiences in our hearts before we die. I want to celebrate living life with my partner. I don't want us lost in accounts books, data files, meetings and presentations. I want us to experience the joy of living - together.

I've decided to write a list of all the things I want to do, prioritize them, figure out what I want to do alone, with family, and my partner. That should offer me clarity. My passion, laughter, optimism and resourcefulness (not to mention fiance's credit cards) should be fuel enough. I'll squeeze life for all it's experiences' worth! And when I'm dying, I can say, "Oh yeah, baby. I lived, alright! Lived it with the right guy, right children, family, friends and..the in bestest way ever!"

My Sweetheart!

2007-11-26T16:50:00.000Z

If I said he breaks my heart, you'll think I'm too cheesey. But if I didn't say he does, indeed, break my heart I'm a liar. He actually rips my heart.
And I'm glad for that.

A Common Feeling

2007-10-10T04:27:00.000+01:00

It's interesting how
you have no time
to mourn me.

The date for my grandad's yearly death rites was decided. My birthday happens to be that day. What is sadder is that I won't be around this time. I managed to be there even when I was doing my masters abroad. The qualification has changed, not the place, but I can't make it this year. I feel sad about that. He's the only grandparent I like and miss. The best one was taken away.

It's been 4 years since his death and my heart still weeps for him. I sometimes peep into my grandmom's house expecting him to loiter about there. It feels strange to walk into his study room. When his colleagues speak of him, the all too familiar lump in my throat emerges. I miss him so much. I miss how he brought pomegranate for me, the all-knowing smile he wore and the fact that he ALWAYS brought a gift back for me (however silly it may be) from whatever city he visited. The consolation for the despair, loneliness and sheer quietness he left behind is that we often feel the ghost of him around us. Haunting us among his dusty books, smiling at us through the kind words of his friends, in the naughty glint in his children's eyes and sometimes in our dreams.

My words lay useless
when I describe
you and what you
mean to me.

Promise

2007-09-18T11:14:00.001+01:00

I promise you, I can love you more. I promise you, I can make you laugh. I promise you, you'll be happier than you are. I promise you, I can do anything you ask of me. I promise you my life, my soul.

Early Retirement

2007-06-28T12:01:00.000+01:00

I want to live in the country in a big hut. I want 2 big dogs and 2 small ones. Preferably a black labrador, a golden retriever and two terriers. I want a large kitchen, a comfortable living room, two bedrooms and a big, big backyard. I want to grow a guava, cherry and apple tree each. I also want to grow pretty rose bushes, those climbers with flowers which smell amazing at night and buttercup pots everywhere in the house. I want chicken and geese in my backyard. I want a few rabbits running about. Maybe even a small pond in the middle.

You know what's so amazing about this dream? It's very possible. My friend does it. I lived in that house. It even had a swimming pool few ten feet away. And that month was the most peaceful, amazing month of my life.

Morning after

2007-06-02T17:46:00.000+01:00

I could violently shake off the cologne you wore to my place last night. I can wash off the kisses you planted between my breasts. If I tried, I'm quite sure I will get rid of the memory of your soft moans, the feel of chest against mine or how our legs were eternally entwined. But please teach me this. How do I shake off the leftovers of you? Like the way I feel your body pressed against mine even when you're miles away? The way you pull me closer when I'm the one who sways us back and forth? The sound of your relaxed breathing when we're asleep? Oh please tell me how to forget your eyes when they're saying you're in love with me.

Between The Lines

2007-05-08T08:01:00.000+01:00

I love this piece of work. Everytime I look at this sculpture I derive new meanings from it. I like how the man is stretching upwards, while the lady is leaning gently towards him. I like how there's a bowl of water between the two of them. This bowl of water is overflowing. So much can be understood from the meaning of what the bowl is and why is it overflowing. The man is cupping the lady's hands. The prettiest thing of all is the cobwebs between the two faces.

But you know what's the best part?

The two of them are joined at the feet to make an almost perfect circle. How inseparable man and woman are!

Like It Used To Be

2007-04-13T08:01:00.000+01:00

You ask me why I don't smile like I used to. Like what? Like the crystal clear flow of rivers, like the crispness of Spring, like the full bloom of sunflowers, like the glorious glow of the moon, like the madness of a naughty child. I simply look outside through the window and say, "Oh. Like that."

Closing Time?

2007-03-15T06:58:00.000Z

So, wizened traveller, can you (at last) see the end nearing?

To Stop And Stare

2007-03-07T07:14:00.000Z

It's a sweltering day at Vizag and I dislike any direct contact with the sun or his rays. However, while my cousin was driving me on the Beach (a.k.a Bitch) Road, I caught a glimpse of this happy lot. I just had to rush out of the car and capture the joy, intimacy and meaning that was shared between the father and children. Despite the harsh sunrays beating my body into a sweaty pulp, I felt refreshed simply standing some feet away from them. That was the kind of air they carried around them.

Stranded

2007-01-16T14:47:00.000Z

Somewhere some people believe that the click of a camera takes away a bit of the soul of the photographed. I wonder, what if the soul is infinite and can afford a bit of it being taken away? After all, some photographs add soul to the viewers' lives. This way, the photographed remains immortal - passing on the same bit of soul to multitudes.

The man behind this camera thinks he captured a pretty face with a mock thoughtful expression. Is this person mocking just the man behind this camera? Or what this lens represents? Our collective souls gazing at a pretty face. Is he sharing some of his soul with us? Does it mean he has any lesser amount of soul because of this? All this is a moot point unless he has something he can give my soul, a something I am willing to take. I believe he has something I want. However, in the very act of taking a bit of his soul my soul has met his. Probably, by simply gazing at his pretty face we have exchanged a small piece of our souls, which has made us entangled and endless. Then what's wrong with being photographed and losing a bit of one's soul when it's being enriched with a tiny portion of another's? Is it wrong to seek change, to contribute without first thinking about tangible returns..is it wrong to grow?

The problem is that we've trained even our souls to withhold itself. We want to be lone islands - loveless, insensitive and dull. Like this post, we have created confusion, noise and drama just so we can leave the recesses of our soul inaccessible. The owner has now become the owned. Maybe this man is mocking us for that.

Refreshing

2006-11-22T15:09:00.000Z

The years have wrapped themselves
into complex tales of
death, love, joy and
frustration.

We have been separated by
time, space, thoughts
and age.

Yet we hold an uncommon connection
that only our common blood
could make possible.

It took just one day
(From 6 a.m. to 8:30 p.m)
to shatter the differences
that education and experience
had once so confidently built.

A few laughs, shared fatigue,
climbing up trees and hills, getting lost in
caves and knocking tamarinds off
the tree.

Our childhood was never a dream:
it is a definite reality
reflected in our
separate but sometimes mingling
adulthood.

Not Demi-Gods

2006-11-11T06:14:00.000Z

this tough road that you've chosen
is leading you further away
from us and closer to
brutality.

you've become a somebody even
i stopped wanting to know
and our love seems like
one big, dirty mistake.

do you know?
i speak of you like
you're a borrowed love
and i think of you like the way
i reminisce school days -
a mixture of shame and warmth.

and i wish i didn't have to look back
and see us like that,
i wish you had taken the human road
to life.

Osmania General Hospital

2006-10-25T07:01:00.000+01:00

"I love the orange light. It's like orange icrecream!"

"These lights are so beautiful. I never knew they'd care enough to make the buildings look this pretty."

"It looks lovely from outside. And to think people are hanging in between death and life inside.."

"Let's go. Or I'll keep taking endless pictures like this."

Mindless!

2006-10-18T17:48:00.000+01:00

My mind has been clouded the past few weeks. I'd like to blame it on the blistering sun except I know it's a bad excuse. I've been angry, angry and then a little more angry. I never thought I could manage that much anger. I've gone from slamming plates, to screaming, to storming into my room, to calling people names, to giving the cold shoulder, to curling into a little ball, to belittling people, to even taking it out on my dog. My mind is clouded and blinded. I'm not thinking straight.

What brought me back to sanity was something as trivial as finding the receipt for the shopping we did today. The father was supposed to be the one with the receipt. I needed to exchange my pants. He couldn't find the receipt, my mom didn't have it which just made me angry as hell. I started bickering, bitching, growling and glowering at my father. The poor man quietly withstood the verbal lashing. I was like a mad dragon firing scathing words at my father. I went for my swim to cool off. I walk into my room afterwards and happen to look into my handbag. What d'ya know? I had the receipt all along. I still can't recollect how and when did I take the receipt from my father. That's how blind my mind has become.

Apologies and shame followed immediately. However, the fact remains. I was irrational and my verbal attack at my father was unwarranted. It took something as petty as a shopping receipt to bring me back to the reality of things. I need a break. I need to center myself. I need to breathe deeper. Gosh. I need to slay a few of my demons!

More Or Less

2006-09-28T08:45:00.000+01:00

If I love
It won't necessarily mean I will
Be loved.

If I hate
It means I can hate
Some more.

If I wanted
I'd probably remain
Unsatisfied.

If I let go
You might not ever
Come back to me.

If I dream tonight
I might not wake up
Again.

Working in Tandem

2006-09-09T19:31:00.000+01:00

You wonder whether
I've still got that
Space in my heart
Just for you.

I wonder if you ever
See that faint memory
Of our good times
Planting itself on my
Lips.

You doubt my intentions
Like I was all out
To get you and stamp
All over your dreams.

I doubt you notice
The faith and honesty I hold in my eyes
When I tell you I'm a total
Fuck up of nature, but I mean no
Bad to you.

You feel insecure when you think of the
Many lovers who
Happened to happen in
My life.

I feel your love-moods
Dressed in black and white light
Shining on my face:
You love me.
You don't love me.

Beers and Smiles

2006-08-29T11:18:00.000+01:00

If my heart could
Write a poem
It would have sprinkled
Words of
Tenderness and care
In it.

If my heart could
Melt into seasons
I know it would
Have chosen to live in the
Infinite season of
Friendship.

If my heart could
Paint its feelings
It would simply
Retrace to the times
When you smiled.

If my heart could
Capture moments to
Store in its memory
It would hold our
Golden times closest.

If my heart could
Speak words
It would have found the
Courage to say the things
That I don't.

But my heart can only
Feel (and faintly
Remember);
So when I smell beer
Or see beef burgers, I begin to miss
Your eternal
Smile.

Interior Monologue

2006-08-09T16:26:00.000+01:00

There have been so many things that have been going on in my life: demons lifting their ugly heads again, deadlines to meet, hanging in limbo with regard to my future career plans, standing in the corridors of friendships, stuck at the cross-roads of love, stranded in conflicting desires, haunting images of home, people dying or dead, abandonment and loneliness. Despite this, I've been able to laugh although my tired eyes showed more than I gave them the permission to. A slow brewing of so many events, thoughts and emotions gave way.

I'm sitting at the threshold of my door facing the garden. I light up my cigarette and stare into the gray sky. I begin to think about the day. I took part in the study and faced the fear that I was born with: hospitals. I was sure I'd cry while admitting that I can't bear people jabbing me with their syringes. Oddly, I was okay with it. I imagined how I'd have been 75, in the hospitals waiting for death to come knocking on my door. I imagined if I could handle something 10 (or even 100) times more than the constant stinging and pain I was feeling at that moment. I was pleased to know that I can handle it. This was a good test. I'm braver than I give myself credit for.

I am half-way through my with my cig, now looking up at the antenna on my neighbor's roof thinking of how I missed God. I start off by apologizing for not talking to him for so long, then thank him for being there. I reminisce the times when I needed to have faith in a God to handle living in England alone. I remember the devastation of the first 3 months, the tears that refused to stop running down the sides of my cheeks all thorough September till the end of January. Thank you for having been there, for being a reason to believe in a decent recovery from utter loneliness.

I look at my cancer stick when it all hits me. I'm free of the hatred I had toward the one person I found so hard to forgive. I'm still stuck with this love thing. I want to come back to England for my doctoral programme. I'm not sure whether I can get that scholarship. I'm all alone. My bank balance has hit an all time low. He's coming down. I won't get a chance to see my mentor for atleast another year after day after tomorrow. I miss Bosco. I miss my friends from back home. I have the chance to work in my field here. She lost her husband. It was Dad's birthday and I missed it. How many more precious days and moments will I continue to miss? How many more am I gaining by missing those? I don't know who I am. I've an accent that changes as per my mood, I fall in love at inopportune times, I've stopped talking to God, I have no sense of money, I feel empty or confused most of the times and I can't understand what direction my career plan will take me to. I feel like I'm not a good person anymore.

I cry. Those tears that have been lingering in my eyes and did not want to dribble out finally found a way out. I'm not a good person. I wish I were a better student, daughter, friend..person. I've forgotten how to be a good person. I cry hoping that God will help me be a good person because I've forgotten the person I used to be. I don't understand this person I am anymore. I'm going through the mechanics of the day not realizing how time is passing me by and I'm not doing the things I want to do. I want to tell him that he can't send me emails lecturing me about how I should and should not feel. It's bad enough that he treats me like a child. But I let it go. I want to tell my father that he needs to tell me that ought to have faith in me. He can't always doubt my capabilities like this. I want to tell my tutor that she needs to tell me that I can do this. I want Time to change and be more conducive for us to fall in love again. I want to tell Lenu that I miss her so much at times that I cry for her company. I want to mumble my silly talk to my dog again. I want to tell my grandmom that I miss my grandfather so much that I see apparitions of him early in the morning. I want to tell my lecturer that life will be okay although she lost her husband. I want to tell myself to have courage and faith in myself. I want God to hug me and tell me that it's okay. I want to call the airline buggers and tell them that they can't expect me to pack 1 year's worth of my life in 20 kilos. I want to tell my uncle that he's been horrible to me but I understand now that he knew not what he was doing.

But I won't. I will smoke my cigarette and reach out for another. I'll simply fill my lungs and watch so many words drift away. I'll allow them to dilute themselves in the dying embers of my hushed thoughts. I'll thwart them. And how did I think I could be a good person if I can't even say what I want to say? How could I expect my eyes not to betray my anguish at the person I've become?

Embrace

2006-08-02T15:18:00.000+01:00

And we love

Because that's all we

Know how to do.

So while the world is

Busy acting busy,

We can stop to share the little

Love we've still got left.

Nature

2006-07-26T12:20:00.000+01:00

Sometimes I cannot understand why my mother says that life on earth is considered to be beautiful. What is so beautiful about a life that can cause you the sorrow of separation, the pain of confusion, the recklessness of youth, the madness of love, the agony of physical pain and the bleakness of abandonment? What kind of a beauty is that?

But there are moments of pristine joy, simple love and the contentment of being okay. Then, life as a whole does not seem so bad. And ofcourse, there's almost always the beauty of nature by itself. It's spectacular, it can heal and it is almost always there for you.

I suppose, Life on earth is redeemed by Nature.

Still

2006-06-13T16:57:00.000+01:00

and i like my stillness

when i'm on wet grass

watching the clouds rush past me,

the trees swaying gently to the breeze

and the sounds of children, dogs, chatter

wafting in the air.

my soul is quiet

and content

Checklists

2006-05-28T01:29:00.000+01:00

i've only a small question to ask you, sweetie.
when you heard my voice did you feel a certain happiness? coz you see, baby, i've not heard you show any happiness. why do you make happiness sound so commonplace..so matter of fact, baby?

you know what, sweetie? you played your game with me. you checked whether i still love you (and you know i do), made sure that i'm bursting with joy when i speak to you, wanting to hear you say the words that you miss me..and sometimes, i'll yearn for you to tell me you love me. how i enjoy every moment i spend with you!

you won your game, baby. you got your checklist all taken care of with my (expected) reactions. so when i tell you i'm happy because of you, you tell me i should be. but, you see sweetie, i should be the one asking you the questions.
are you happy with me in your life? coz i don't see you showing any happiness about it.

The Love Of My Life

2006-05-22T23:40:00.000+01:00

there was a landscape
of sadness to
scale..

a vast field of apparent
unending memories kept
playing like a movie
i needed to forget;

why did you do this?
what have you become -
a horror i find
surprising.

there was once a heart,
a heartbeat, a streak of
red..

but now i only see the
spoils of our constant
unhappiness, our unfortunate
disharmony.

the blood that you drew
from the throbbing of my
spurned love
must be washing your cold feet

while i'm sitting here
writhing in the vicious clutches
of thoughts, love and flashs of
memory replaying.

i wish you would one day
realize what i mean to you,
i hope love's simple truth
will clear your maligned heart -

i will be there
no matter what.

at that time,
i pray that your tears don't
break from your eyes,
but slip down the sides of your
tired, confused
heart.

Bosco

2006-05-15T12:07:00.000+01:00

He's my child, my lover and my best friend.

He's the small bundle of joy that came along less than a month after my grandfather passed away. He brought our family together..he's the adhesive that, at times, helps us stay together too. I remember the day when we went to actually just look at these lovely brown pups that were born a month ago. Bosco was the meek, shy, sleepy pup who didn't yelp when I picked him up and set him in my lap. You know what? He slept there and he looked so peaceful. I knew we were taking this baby home.

Bosco was brought up by me, trained by me (and I suck at that!) because for his first 2 years I was at home. He knows me so well that when I call him one of the weird names I come up with, he comes running coz he knows I'm calling for him! So far I've called him bujjikanallu (this is his other name now, anyway), bujjilu, boscolu, boscoji, tobosco, jhingchakka, tring-ling. He knows me so well, loves me so dearly and he is what my father calls my 'Hutch network'. He's everywhere I go!

When Bosco gets angry, even when it's with me, he bites my father!! My father finds it amusing that Bosco won't let anyone yell at me. He gets so upset! He's the barometer for how things are within our family. When we fight, Bosco gets sad and sits in a corner. When we are crying, he comes licks our faces. When we are tired and sleeping on the floor, he comes and sleeps in the crook of our arm. Bosco is love personified, devotion taken a step further and a constant we all should have in our lives.

The day I was packing my suitcase to leave, Bosco was sitting in my mother's lap licking her and persuading her to stop. He came and sat in my lap and looked so sad. I've never seen that kind of heart-rending sadness before. I suppose, only animals are capable of exhibiting their emotions in the most pure way. We humans are so caught up in perceptions and other cagey ideas. I visited home in December, Bosco didn't let me move for 15 minutes. In fact, I had to sleep on the ground so that he can lick me, nip me and bark at me until he was satisfied. My father was laughing so hard when he saw that. My father and Bosco are an unusual pair. Bosco taught Daddy how to express his emotions, he is dad's weakness! He's mom's release for her unending love, someone she turns to when no one is at home..he's helped her be braver.

Bosco has a meaning for all of us. He's taught all three of us how to love. He's shown us how important life is. He's the cheerful, kind dog that I've always wanted. And yes - he is my child, my lover and my best friend for always.

Nanna

2006-05-11T17:14:00.000+01:00

I used to call Nanna a 'vacation dad' for a long time. During the rage that comes naturally to rebellious adolescents and the confusion of young adulthood, my father watched me use him as my 'personal thumping machine'. I've said horrible things to him, I've disrespected him, I've dishonored him and I've called him a lazy coward. He has borne my wrath with quiet dignity and a love that is much beyond what a father is normally believed to be capable of.

He is the man who has taught me about forbearance, loyalty toward people you love and what it is to sacrifice your life for the sake of your family. He has weathered 14 years of aching solitude for his family's comfortable lifestyle. When I think back to the things daddy has done for me, I can only see this mountain of support and love he has provided me.

He is a man of great integrity. He has never told a lie, silently bore the ridicule from stupid people, has had the utmost patience with Mom and I, knows when to have a good laugh and has not once made mention of the fact that I've spent so much of his hard earned money. I ran away from my first master's programme and he hasn't uttered a word of the large price he had to pay due to my ambivalence.

Encouraging. Honest. Faithful. Spiritual. Wise. Smart. Strong. Always open to change. That's what my father is. I can never thank god enough for this great father. This man who has goaded me to do what I want to do, who has allowed me to discover myself, gave me the space I needed, not once has dishonored my right to secrecy and has kept me always intellectually stimulated. When I broke down and told him about my sexual assault, he absorbed the horror of it with character. When he discovered my 'naughty habits', he didn't stop me..only counselled me. He helped me find my own ground. He has helped me stand my own ground.

He is the friend that every child should have in atleast one parent. He is the parent that every child should be able to talk to uninhibitedly. He is the guide that every child should find in their parent. He is the love that every child needs to experience.

Amma

2006-05-05T19:45:00.000+01:00

When I asked her what happens to food after I eat it she told me that there's a grinder in my stomach and each blade of this grinder is a god and these gods break down my food for me.

I once had a major health related problem. It got so bad that my hands had reacted to some homeopathic medicines which resulted in them swelling up with a bad rash. This was 10 days before the dreaded 10th grade exams. My mother silently wept for me, slept by my side and suffered with me.

I hated my two years in high school. I had a typical fat chick's high school life like it's shown in movies. I lost my cousin and aunt that year, there was a huge wedding in the family at that same time. I didn't go to school for 3 months because I was depressed. Teachers thought I was stupid. But she pushed that all away telling me to take my own time. She understood.

My uncle called me abominable when I was 14. My family thought I was stupid to take an arts subject. Everyone laughed at me when I dropped out of my master's course in India. They laughed harder when they gotto know I was going to England to do a master's in an arts subject. They made fun of me because I cried for home when I was in England, rebuked me for coming home twice in the same year and said mean things about my family. Many people think I'm a spoilt only child with rich parents. I told my mother I'm gonna earn my own money because all these people make me feel ashamed of being daddy's little girl, she just said this - But you are daddy's little girl, what's wrong with that? Esp because you're lucky to be one.

She calls me up whenever she coughs, sneezes or wakes up in the middle of the night because she imagines that I was calling out for her. Mother's keen sense for her children, she says. She simply checks on me, shyly says she loves me and hangs up.

I love my mother. I cherish her. She has helped me be a child, be innocent through her innocence and she's helped me preserve the human quality in me called love.

The Shadows Stuck, Afterall

2006-03-31T10:52:00.000+01:00

It's not that we had a lifetime together, it's not that we spent a whole year together, it's not even that we spent more than 2 full months in each other's presence. It's nothing tangible, it's not one bit real and it is every moment surreal. Maybe that's why I love him still? No. The problem, you see, is I love him. And that's that. I have no explanation about my love for him..if I did, I could've fought it with logic. I have no bitterness toward him, no anger at him..otherwise, I could've translated those feelings into tears or words. The problem is there are no side-effects of my love for him..no words to put to it..so what can I do? I love him. And I wish I could stop it.

Endlessness

2006-03-29T09:11:00.000+01:00

I've been on this
Road.

This road.
This road.
This road.

I've constructed dreams
Extraordinary
And believed that I was
Living them.

I walked along this
Self-made road
Hoping that one day
I'll get where I deserve to be.

I've made
Plans.

Plans.
Plans.
Plans.

I laid them down on
The map of what my life
Was supposed to be
Ten years from the now.

I had structured it carefully
With a skeleton idea and experience,
Thinking that I will surely
Get where I deserved to be.

I had profusely
Prayed.

Prayed.
Prayed.
Prayed.

I put all my faith in
A god that I still
Can't make up my mind
About.

I believed madly,
Unbelieved with a vengeance
And had faith with a fear that
He might not get me where I deserved to be.

I'm still on this
Road.

This tiresome road.
This lonely road.
This inevitable road.

Forsaken

2006-03-08T18:45:00.000Z

What has happened to the times
When I could look up into the
Sky and know that I've
Traces of the good in me?

I used to be able to look
Up into the candy clouds and
Feel the warmth of
Kindness fill me;

A time when I could know how
Blessed we all were
Just by gazing at the
Affectionate pink of sunlight through
Cloud covers;

I used to be able to
Experience love, goodness and
The tender beauty of life
When I looked into the sky.

Where has my heart
Disappeared, having forsaken
Me?

Removed

2006-03-05T11:35:00.000Z

There was once a past
That I wished to simply
Survive -
For that moment,
At that time.

Now there's a past
That haunts me
Like the ugly demon on
The king's back.

I have dreams to live,
I want to new experiences,
I wish I could have faith,
I've desires too..

But this formidable past
Hangs onto every corner of
My soul, it's glued
Itself all over what is.

And..so..

Alone, I stand facing
The heartrending
Truth of what my life once
Was,

Removed, I live from
What I can
Make happen and
What I can be.

(Almost) In Vain I Walked

2005-12-03T09:59:00.000Z

The setting sun
Glistened with a softness
So profound that my
Deprecating thoughts
Melted away with a shame
Unmistakable.

Twice I subjected myself
To these all-consuming
Tortured
(Torturing)
Thoughts - never knowing
Wherefrom respite would
Greet me.

At last, one fading day,
I lifted my troubled
Head to look into the collosal
Sky
And saw, instead, that which
I hated most - them, that and this.

It all simply stood in front of me -
Such was that large tomb of my
Distaste
(Why I despised, only my
Self-doubt would know)
Mocking my vain regret.

My remarkable vanity
Stared through the sepia of that
Day -
Through the maginficence of a
Building I would never
Belong to.

And the sun merely glistening,
Derobing me of my sadness and
Vanity -
I knew the time had come to
Hold myself against the map of my past
Achievements
Rather than against the
Shadows of my desperate,
Lofty expectations.

The Brink

2005-12-01T12:47:00.000Z

'I need a vodka on the rocks with a lemon and give me the tonic bottle seperately, please.'

Frost, Again

2005-11-19T12:09:00.000Z

I thought
That I escaped
Time's bitter
Frost when I
Jumped timelines,
Ran away from cruel
Hearts plotting
Their plans.

I imagined
A foreign land
With its strange faces
And strange voices
Will soothe my
Estranged Soul; these foreign
Men in foreign
Clothes
Were supposed to save
Me.

I tried to dodge
My past's biting
Frost. But,
You see,
Life had a different
Plan for me.

Tired and
Desperate for my
Share of respite,
I had finally
Knocked on
A door of a Warmth
Whose home was in
A frosty place,
With frosty stories to tell
And
Frost-laden memories
To share.

And I knew that it was
Frost, again,
For me.