For Half a Year or More

Half a year I couldn’t talk to you…
To anyone.
I dread a conversation now that I can.
I got no answer for how I am
Or have been all this while.

I am reduced to be a memory
No one knows I still exist

I have no words anymore
I falter at your questions
Grope around to find words
But all is dark and I find none

I run away!

An Endless Wait

A moonless night
A curfew
A fresh fear

All is still and my room is lit
By the light across the street
Everything else, dark

No sound penetrates the silence tonight
No soundtracks in a groom’s caravan
No dogs howling…

The city is locked down
Again.

I look at the dark sky, wondering over my plans
And now, silently,
Awaiting my destiny to unfold.

Ready to Die

Every day I see people worked up
Looking for something, searching
Cursing, complaining, swearing…

I look at nature,
the clouds moving, the sun hiding
The birds happily chirping away

I look in the mirror, standing, staring
Looking happy and content
Maybe I should die

Hope

 

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I had looked forward to a dream. Something I was so in love with. I yearned, I waited everyday. Yet when I had it, it was all in pieces, broken apart.
And then, when I least expected, I had hope. Smiling at me and saying, “here here, I am with you.”
Even when nothing made sense, I know soon it all will.

Of Grief

After the talk; prospects of loss,
death, and grief
Of life without

I sit in a garden

Looking for a four-leaf clover;
calming my storms
You stirred inside

Blessing in Our Life

Capture

We are told that the ladies who are the easiest to look after are the most blessed.
The question remains, do we treat them as the blessings that they are said to be? Do we treat them as they should be?
Or do we, because of their low maintenance, just neglect their needs?
Because they do not make a fuss and create havoc every time their needs or wishes are not fulfilled, do we overlook their needs? The things that make them happy? The subtle forms of care and love that could overjoy them?
Do we forget doing the things we would for other people because they might just start throwing things in our face? And because these ladies make no such nuisances, do we just ignore them? Take them for granted?
Or for that matter, any person who does not explicitly counter our ways, or do not make extravagant demands, do we take all such people for granted?
Planning things, eating out, conversations, or anything for that matter, any plan, we never consider these “low maintenance, considerate” people.
Is this what someone’s consideration is worth? Is this how they should be treated?

Or are we waiting for them to snap and move away to start looking at them and looking out for them? Or caring for them? And if we do, would it be what keeps them with us? Happy and content?
Or would they have moved too far before we realize they have given up on us?

Numbness

Over the past few days, in many of our conversations, I was asked whether I was hurt. Whether what was said didn’t go well with me. Whether it was offending. Or angered me. For that matter provoked any reaction within me.

Somehow nothing anyone said had any effect, any impact on me. As if nothing mattered. As if nothing was said in the first place.

Had I attained maturity? Or is it some other level of numbness? Numb to the extent that nothing pricks, nothing causes a reaction, nothing stirs me up! Why?

I remember in my childhood my sister was not ticklish and I used to call her inert. After all these years, am even I insert? Non-indulging. Not feeling.

Have I lost my neurons?

Have I internalized and normalized everything to the extent that nothing matters anymore?

What have I done to me?

Path

It was a beautiful day. An amazing company. Shared laughter. While one conversation was leading to another, he asked: “What plans do you have for yourself?” “None”

Plans. Unknowingly he had now touched the raw nerve he talked about a few days earlier. Plans. What she wanted to do with her life. Which direction she wanted to choose. What paths did she desire to walk?

Very few people had bothered about this. Her desire. What she wanted to do with her life. And yet, amongst those few people, her family never featured. It was twice that someone wanted to help her. That the destination had been fixed, so let’s find the path together. Let’s walk together.

There couldn’t have been any sound better than that sentence. “I will show you how to.” And it still remained a mystery to her. Was it her naivety or was the person too convincing? Or was she too desperate to arrive that she drank from all cups offered? Never differentiating, never trying to probe whether it is water or poison.

A part of her did feel poisoned. Cheated. Like being promised of a dessert and getting a toffee. The path promised did exist but it lead elsewhere. Her desire, her dream, her destination was too far from the path she was trodding upon. A part of her always grieved. Maybe she should have probed more. What fun was it walking with people who wouldn’t even understand? Who mocked her? Her passion? What did they know? Had they themselves ever yielded anything from their labor of love? Just how could they?

And here she was, with another hand to take her there. The path seemed better. Familiar. Things she should have been doing for long now, but wasn’t. But a part of her was still hurt. Still afraid. Still wondering where this rendezvous would take her to.

I am Near

I had cried hard someday,
“Where are you,
Call me back!”
The promise of “I am Near”

There was no voice reciprocating
no condolence, no light
I knew no better
The promise of “I am Near”

Shattered, in pieces
I yearned for light
I called, “When?”
The promise of “I am Near”

All the forms of care I knew
communication, touch
the yearning of His caress
The promise of “I am Near”

I had thought of fatherly strokes,
His hands on my head
Ah! my innocence, expectations
The promise of “I am Near”

And days later, I looked beyond
tears that had blurred vision
Ways He had reached out
The promise of “I am Near”

That sudden song I never heard before
That poem titled “Sawaal”
That recurrent dream, giving solace
The promise of “I am Near”

A sudden thought of hope,
A distant ray of light
The hand that said, “I am”
The promise of “I am Near”

No, the ways weren’t what I thought
He didn’t stand in front, embracing
physically He was never there
The promise of “I am Near”

And yet, all I could see was Him
in every breath, His presence
Managing my affairs through someone
The promise of “I am Near”