Dead woman walking

Feel like a dead leaf in fresh foliage. While everybody else is swaying with the wind, I just rustle. All the other leaves will go where the wind will carry them. Me? Touch me and I’ll crumble.

It’s like there’s a scream stuck in my throat. It’s ringing in my ears, so loud; it keeps me awake in the night. It’s deafening. I’m desperate to open my mouth to let the scream escape, but I can’t. I have to keep it inside, no one can know.

It makes me want to run into concrete walls, over and over again, till it has a big bloody stain on it. It makes me want to tear down mirrors, break all windows with bare hands. Feel like suspending myself upside down with one foot, till the blood rushes to my head.

I just want to feel. Feel like I am living. Feel like I’m not just sleep walking through one unending nightmare. But I can’t. I can’t do any of those things. I just got to keep sleep walking until the sun comes up again, and I wake up. Will the sun eventually come up, or has it forgotten to shine on this one soul? Only time will tell.

FREE YOUR SOUL

It’s been nearly 3 days since daddy’s demise. Since then, I feel this unusual sense of freedom. Not from daddy, no, but from life, from God, from my conscience. I don’t know. I am trying to find the right words to make you understand. But I realize that you will only understand when you are standing where I am standing today. But I’m going to try to convey this feeling anyway. So here goes.

It’s this liberating feeling of knowing how less you can do, how less the control of life is in your hands. It’s like your life’s steering wheel is not in your hands. You are simply a passenger. If you think you are the driver, go wash your face. And when you are the passenger, you don’t have to be bothered about the bumps in the road, the other vehicles or the cliff’s dead end ahead. Just enjoy the ride; there is little else you can do.

I used to be a staunch believer of ‘you make your own destiny’ or the Secret’s ‘power of attraction’. I’m not anymore. I don’t disbelieve it. I don’t call it a farce. But I’m just not a devotee anymore.

What I do call a farce is astrology. It’s nothing but a truck load of bullshit, horseshit, human shit and some other forms of assorted crap. My mum is a qualified astrologer. She never foresaw daddy’s sudden death. Neither did any of the zillion other astrologers we consulted predict it. Daddy even had a long lifeline. You know what else, daddy’s death certificate states his time of death as 6.00 AM. Wow, A round number! It’s funny because mummy remembers daddy’s cardiac arrest as somewhere around 4.20 AM. Point to ponder, how do you know the time on your birth certificate is accurate? Considering all these kundlis are based on the accurate birth time, am I to assume that I am probably leading somebody else’s life?

Anyway, coming back to the point I started out with, my belief is the astrology system has effectively vanished. My own mother being an astrologer, astrology had a considerable influence in my life. So not having to adhere to that is liberating. Astrologically, mummy was supposed to pass away before daddy. Oh, well.

Next up – God. My God was dear to me. I spoke to him every minute of everyday. I thanked him for every breath I took. I begged, pleaded and even commanded him to bring daddy home safe and sound. Didn’t happen. So now, I’m liberated from that obligation. I am free to do, say and wish whatever I want. He will ultimately do as he desires. I still pray before going to bed and I pray for daddy’s soul. But the obsessive faith is on a holiday.

I can’t think of a worse thing happening in my life for a long time now. I am comfortably numb. I fear nothing no more. I could be hit by a truck and not feel a thing. Bring it on life, ‘cause I don’t give a shit.

I’M KEEPING YOU FOREVER AND FOR ALWAYS

Daddy passed away yesterday. I don’t know what to feel. He was right here a few days ago, having tea with us, eating lunch with us, watching television with us, calling me funny names, making the silliest of rhymes, cracking the lamest of jokes. Daddy, that beautiful, lively, kind, generous, loving person has gone up in smoke, literally. 54 is no age to die, 44 is no age to be a widow, and 22 and 24 is no age to be fatherless. If I ever felt like dying, I feel it now more than ever. I’ve been suicidal for the longest time. Most of my poems reflect that. Daddy’s death has effectively removed every suicidal thought from my mind for good. I have realized that it is not just cowardly, but it is the most selfish thing one can do. I can’t imagine a life without daddy.

Daddy’s surgery was not supposed to be life threatening. He didn’t have a history of heart disease. His chest X-rays were all clear. Daddy was supposed to walk back into this house hale and hearty. He was not supposed to be brought in on a stretcher, only to be bathed, dressed in new clothes and be taken to the crematory. This is just not according to the agenda. That heart attack on Sunday morning was simply unaccounted for. It’s all wrong! Please, oh please turn back time so we can do it right this time. But that’s just not how is goes, is it? There are no retakes in life. There are no rehearsals. And there definitely aren’t any ‘plans’, at least not ones made by us mortals.

It makes me so angry. Daddy had a painless death. It was an instant, silent heart attack. He had his most beloved wife by his side till the very last breath. He used to say, “I don’t have a lot of time left, I don’t want to live for long” even on his healthiest days. He’d say that his wife and two daughters all have stable jobs. They are mature, independent, confident women and well equipped to take care of themselves. His job here is done, now for a painless death. Looks like his life did go according to plan.

But it makes me so angry, even though I know it’s wrong to question God. Daddy lived life the way he wanted. He ate all he wanted, drank all he wanted and smoked all he wanted. He loved us dearly, and we loved him dearly and that’s why begged him to change his ways. But he never listened. Weak will or stubbornness, call it whatever. Ultimately today, I am left without a father.
Daddy, I love you like crazy, and I am and always will be your little girl. But if only you had cared about yourself as much as you cared about us, you would probably still be around. But I forgive you, and I love you and miss you, forever and for always. Rest in peace.

Daddy come home

2:45 AM on the clock. I'm on the 5th floor of a hospital, in its waiting room. It’s been an awful week. Actually, it’s been an awful month, no wait, awful year. Daddy was admitted last night for a tumor. It was surgically removed today. Now, he lies somewhere in the ICU, probably medicated enough to not know what exactly transpired. My eyes feel incredibly heavy, but it’s just impossible to fall asleep on this wooden chair. Mum has thankfully asleep on the bed. I look around at all the sleeping bodies strewn across the room; it feels like a refugee camp in here.

Then, in the security of the darkness, the tears burst forth. I can cry now, because nobody is watching. I can cry now, because I don’t have to pretend to be strong. I can cry now, because I can’t tomorrow. I never thought I’ll have to see this day, spending the night lying awake in a hospital waiting room while my dearest daddy lies partially conscious in the ICU – bed no. 12. Daddy is not daddy anymore, he is bistar number baara. Suddenly I feel so cold and alone. I wish someone would call or text me and tell me everything will be alright tomorrow. But the phone remains quiet.

I start to feel the hollow of not having that special someone to confide in, to cry to, and who will love me without obligations or because I’m a blood relative. Am I being selfish? I guess I am. I can’t do this right now. My family needs me to be strong and I am going to fulfill that duty.

I just hope this is the first and last time we have to spend the night in this god forsaken room. Daddy get better soon, so we can go home! I miss you already.

Once upon a time in my teenage

Sometimes, somewhere when life brings you down,
You feel like you want to ask everyone to f*** off and leave you alone.

But they insist, they wanna stay, they wanna be your best friend.
F***, don’t you get it, it's my life and I should know how to fend!

I'm better off without company in my gloomy loneliness,
No matter who you are, my life is off your limits.

I don’t wanna share my problems, they are mine to solve.
Just leave me alone god dammit, I can't break my resolve.

I have too much ego to go and ask for help,
Those who think they can help me need help themselves.

I wanna hang myself 'cause my life is so messed up,
I try hard to figure out how like this I ended up.

Sometimes I look around I have no real friends,
The world is closing in on me, I just want this nightmare to end.

Life – that indiscernible thing

You think you have it figured out, and you start to get into your comfort zone, conveniently putting away all those deliveries. The crowd is cheering; the fielders are getting ample exercise. My time has come, you think. And then, you get a googly. You don’t know where it came from or how it dodged your bat, you just weren’t prepared for it. That little span of time when you forgot to pay attention, that flicker of carelessness when your eyes wandered from the ball, it cost you your wicket. And then it’s somebody else’s turn. You stand there bewildered, stubbornly refusing to accept the umpire’s decision. The opponents are cheering, the crowd is booing, and the finger is up. The odds are all against you, you are outnumbered. You grit your teeth. It’s a long walk back to the pavilion. This isn’t just an ODI innings. This is life.

But all the while, it is important to remember, life is just a game. You win some, you lose some. You have critics and you have fans. At the end of it all, there’ll always be another game to do better at. And when you do, this present failure will be forgotten. You’ve just got to use your resources to the best of their abilities; prepare the game plan, and just make the best of today’s game, irrespective of whether the opponent is a world champion or an underdog. Give it your best, and forget the rest.

It is also important to not forget what games are meant – for fun and entertainment. So if you aren’t enjoying the ‘game’, it just ain’t worth it. Problems will come, but they come only to make the game more interesting, just like the occasional sword wielding enemy in a video game. If he weren’t there, how in the world would you feel proud about reaching the treasure! So fare well in the game, but have the most fun time doing that.

MY DATE WITH AN ST BUS

Don't you just love the ST buses in Mumbai? The way they clank and rattle over every tiny pot-hole and look like they are going to completely fall apart the next time they hit another speed breaker?
Well, the first time I was blessed with a ride on an ST bus was when I joined my new college. You see, my previous college was just a hop skip and jump away from my home and hence there wasn't any traveling involved as such. But after my junior college I decided to shift to a better known college at the cost of a bit of traveling. So my friend, already enrolled there, gave me this deal, "If you go by a BEST bus, you'll get there in 30 mins. But if you catch an ST bus, you'll get to a bus stop nearby in 10 mins and with 5 mins of walking you should be conveniently at the college." I thought that the idea was absolutely ridiculous. I mean how can a mere change of buses that more or less take the same route make so much difference in my travel time? But little did I know that I would be so wrong!
So on the third day of my college I get to the bus stop exactly 20 mins before my first lecture at college was to start. As I approach my bus stop I see an ST bus standing there patiently waiting for all the passengers to alight. I take one look at the bus then my watch and make up my mind. As I board the ST bus I am welcomed by the conductor yelling at me for not closing the bus door behind me. Normally used to traveling in a BEST, I was quite unaware of this little tradition. Within 5 mins I realize the catch in an ST bus ride. So an ST bus will take you to your destination in almost half the time as a BEST, but you are going to have to sit with the machhiwallis and the bhajiwallis with their tokris practically on your lap! I'm awed by the fact that, while almost all the passengers in the bus are struggling to get a foothold, the conductor is always comfortably seated on a seat next to the window, strictly reserved for him. I'm also amazed as to how the roadside romeos in the bus manage to whistle a song at the sight of a girl when everybody else is desperately struggling for oxygen! The bus then jumps over a pot-hole and suddenly it feels like an earthquake in the bus. It stuns me so much that at that point all that matters to me is to get to the college 'alive' rather than on time. Suddenly it strikes me, "Oh, so that’s why the ST buses are so enclosed with doors et al. It's so the passengers don't fall out of the bus during these mini earthquakes!"
When my bus stop finally comes, I'm quite literally thrown out of the bus by passengers who are relieved at getting some extra space in the bus, no matter how little. But I've got to admit that all in all, I quite enjoyed the ride. The kind of enjoyment you get out of bungee jumping.

Miseries galore

Sometimes in life, you think you have it all sorted. You manage to stagger to your feet and stare the world in the eye. But in the flash of a lightening, the earth is whisked away from under your feet, leaving you flat on your face, staring up at the world, with mud on your tongue, wondering when and what you did wrong ...

DADDY CARES!

So many times in our lives we question God, wonder if he is really there, accuse him of not being considerate enough, try to provoke him to make his presence felt, all the while overlooking his presence an arm's length away. On my way to work today, I was busy cribbing and complaining about how unfair life has been the past few months to me and the people close to me. I was lost in a shadow of hopelessness, wondering where God has been when his children, who have committed no wrong have been going through all this turmoil. This day is going to be no different from yesterday, I thought. Now that it has started on such a sour note, it's going to be sour throughout. I was only at the bus stop for 2 minutes when my bus came, a nearly vacant bus that came to halt right in front of me. I got in; still unaware of this little thing God did to cheer me up. As soon as I stepped in, I caught sight of a cute guy sitting a couple of seats ahead. I looked at him, he looked at me, I looked away and moved ahead and found myself a seat. Not a big occasion, but it got me smiling. And then I spoke to God, "Alright, I'm on to you. I know what you are trying to do. And I am thankful". That dude must have been going about his business as usual, but even he didn't realize that there was another reason why he was on that particular bus. It just goes to show that we all have a purpose for being on this planet. Not one, but billions of purposes, most are really small and insignificant, like the one mentioned here, while others are life changing.

 

It is wrong to question God and accuse him of being uncaring. The truth couldn't have been farther. It isn't him who is uncaring; it is we who are ignorant. You ask God to show up and prove he exists; well he probably has an inflated ego himself (so now you know where you get it from). But just like a parent, he is ultimately a slave of his creations. So he tells you, "You need cheering up? Look I made that dog chase his tail, isn't he adorable? No? Umm, hey look up, I painted the sky your favorite shade of pink! Still doesn't do it? Okay, hey, remember the time you and your friends sat on top of Parsik hills, singing songs and throwing stones on train tops! That was a fun time, wasn't it?" And so on and so forth. That's how he does it. Little amusing things during the day, unexpected acts of kindness, nature's beauty, fond memories, etc., these are all his teeny weeny ways of brightening up our day. But we! Amusing things = stupidity; acts of kindness = acts with ulterior motives; nature's beauty = 'dodge that bird before it poops on you!', and fond memories = life is so busy and rotten now L. *SIGH*  I sympathize with the poor chap sitting up there, tirelessly trying to convince us that life is REALLY not as bad as we make it out to be, and that there is only one person we can count on to make us happy – ourselves.

 

So, moral of the story, look for the little things and believe that God cares, and that life is unfolding just the way it should. J