Celebrating Sadness

It is pretty depressing around me all the time? This is the thought that came to me when I read my blog posts once. Well not really. I am the most happiest person on the planet - or so I like to believe. I do have a tendency to spread love and happiness, and at least try to make an effort. I smile easily.

Then why the depressive posts? I just need to vent, I like to be real. When I say real, it means being in the present, feeling, crying, laughing, singing, cooking, breathing in every smell, you know like the smell of the air, when it is about to rain, or the smell of garlic roasted in butter, or the smell of some people - my favorite people. It could be simple things that make me happy. Really happy.

But then, I feel the void - of not being cared for enough. Maybe it stems from the fact that the feeling of having been lost began with the day when I was born - it stemmed out, grew its roots, leaves, and now, it stands within me as a huge tree, its shadows swaying with every gust of wind.

For my first birthday after our wedding, I being the romantic one expected a gift, a sweet wish, and a hug. Not the diamond girl, I don't like them. But instead, I got to hear, "You have celebrated your birthdays all your life, let's see what happens if you don't celebrate one this year." I did not know how to react to it. I still don't know what made him say that. But six years into the marriage, if I still have to think of it, and feel the same stab of pain and disappointment, it should have been really bad. 

But this was expected. Every time I have brought this up, or any other disdainful thought up, love blooms, and it then goes back to normal. I stop trying to change, or to even ask for a change - it is not within him to know. There are poets who died wishing for eternal love. Am I going the same way? I am not celebrated as a poet, but in my head, I am a good one.

I wish it would change. I wish it could stop lunging me, deep within my heart. I wish it would not fall as tears, unwelcome at most times. I wish, I could make it all go away - like sweeping white marks off my tap, they are where water has been, leaving the residues behind...I wish, I could just wish to be happy.

I could go on wishing, right? I could go on...

Name

I wish I could put a name to what I feel.

It is love, but not the one that needs you by flesh.

It is need, but not the one that clings and is chaotic.

It is peace, that feeling you bring to me every time.

It is madness, the twinkle in your eyes, and that smile.

It is friendship, beyond ages, that could describe. 

It is laughter, that surrounds me all the time.

It is warmth, like a blanket that I could shroud myself in.

It is hope, that I could long and look forward to.

I wish I could put a name to what I feel. 

And call you only by that name in the lives to come.

To know you love me so...

I love it that you smile at me,

That way you do,

My heart brims with pride,

To know you love me so.

Your eyes like a child,

Twinkling like Christmas lights,

That smile, meant for me,

And me alone.

I can't stop this tightness in my chest,

Knowing and feeling your love,

Words only we know, 

Those are not spoken,

My heart brims with pride,

To know you love me so...

Until the End?

There was never a better time, to walk away from this dirt. 

But I am holding on. 

For what, I wish I knew.

When his madness seems justified, why not mine. 

When his fear is justified, why not mine. 

When his adventures are justified, why defy mine.

When love gets captured in a cage,

Is the urge to flap the wings and crave for freedom justified?

When my freedom has to be curbed, my freedom to live my life,

What should I do other than walk away?

How many more times do I walk away? 

How many times will I return?

My patience is running out,

So is my love, my beloved,

For you, I have given up,

A life that I dreamt to have,

My freedom, and soon, I would,

Give up my breath and life too! 

The Mother's Day Battle

When that first cry came out, 

What did you do, I wonder

Did you eagerly look down to see,

Or did you turn away and ignore?

Was it not pain, to bring me here,

Did you not carry me through,

Was letting go so easy,

Or was it just plain old fear?

A small bundle of blood and liquid,

With little hands and feet,

I too would have wanted that warmth,

That boys and girls who had it all, 

When they were born.

Now, I really do wonder,

Did you eagerly look down?

Did you shed a tear?

Or turned away your head,

Like what came was never yours.

Happy Mother's Day, Mommy dearest,

Just letting you know,

I am the brave child who is special,

For I fought this battle on my own,

Without the sweetness of your milk,

Or the caress of your warmth,

I am proud, for the battle was mine,

Mine alone, and never yours.

Train journeys and long winding tracks

It was on the pretext of meeting my parents that I started a two hour journey, on my own. After marriage, I really never travelled alone, apart for work. This time, I wanted it. Alone.

Umpteen number of tea vendors passed by, eyeing every passenger. What held me back from calling out to one, savoring the sweet strong taste of tea, I still don't know. I panicked everytime a vendor passed by. And I kept telling myself - you will reach soon, and your reluctance is one you will regret. But no. I didn't. Till...

A stack of books, all my favorite authors. The seller had long hands, because the stacked books reminded me of the old librarian in the public library - like his hands were made for carrying huge stacks of books. Anyways, this seller plonked the stack next to me. Most of the seats were empty, and I really got a window seat with two empty seats next to me. I eyed the books curiously, and my eyes landed on his face. Tired, is that an emotion? I choose to keep it that way, because he was tired and his face, his eyes screamed 'tired'. I took a book out of the pile, and took my wallet out to pay him, not a word exchanged between us. And just then, the tea vendor came again.

This time, I didn't let him go...I needed the tea. I needed the book. I needed this journey. Alone. One tea after another, one banana fry after another, one page after another, one station after another...my need was satiated. It was not nirvana that I was seeking, all I needed was a moment to myself, loving myself, that one moment, I had.

The need ended. Atleast, for now.

Let me go, Leave it.

Don't try now.

The spirit is squished and dead.

I traded my insanity, 

For hope and love.

Embers of a long lost warmth,

Hold me together, 

Keeps me going, 

Today, tomorrow and forever.

what i felt from last night...

Sleeping is in the high priority list these days. And finally when I hit the bed, I feel, this is what I wanted to do my entire life. Last night was no great exception. I was trying hard to listen to him talking, but my eyes gave away…I was dazed into a world that snored away to glory. Then I dreamt of sweetened thick sugar syrup flowing…I was in the low-ceiling-ed room of his house that he described to me, He came to me and asked me to take bath before his amma came…what was the sugar syrup for then?

I woke up to find him cosied to himself, that sweet slumber and peaceful face. The newly trimmed short hair that fell on his forehead and the soft snore escaped through his nostrils. I got up, went up to the loo…switched on the light, wondering what the time was. My newly grown left finger nails that had a silver polish glistened as I turned the tap on. 

Coming out, I checked the time in my mobile…5:30. Wondered whether I should go back to the room, that cold, some-smell filled room of mine. But I didn’t feel like leaving him then. I snuggled back into his arms. He mumbled something to me. I kissed him on his eyes, on his lips and softly told him that I loved him…

I kept waking up, at 6, 6:05…he pulled me back, put his hands and leg around me and said, “Don’t go now…” I smiled and lay back again. The sweet sugary syrup didn’t flow, but I saw myself walking down a lane, shaded with yellow leaved trees. I went walking, and then the alarm went off again. 

I walked back to my hostel, my head was swinging slightly. I lie in my bed for a minute, I knew I was getting late for my office , but I just wanted to sleep again.

This Love Thing

This love thing, 

I realize now, 

is not just a rose, red and hot.

It has thorns, and it wilts, 

In time, and in sun.

Tomorrow, you water it, 

Feed it with care, 

And it blooms, 

In time, and in sun.

To a Brother's Loss

He died. 

A memory now. 

Was he ever there?

No. 

But I do feel tired. Forlorn.

A small, sad tear, slowly escaped the eye.

A forceful gulp went down the throat.

The heart stops,

and hands freeze.

A memory, so soon.

I didn't know.

No one told me.

He died.

I hugged the wet pillow, 

And thought of him, 

As a memory.