A PROUD SISTER

.               .               . When I was sitting in a birthday party arranged for a little kid I didn’t even know, I was just searching for stimuli to relate to. My aunt was thankfully there to give me company. Known faces to her but alien to me, kept passing by, exchanging pleasantries. Suddenly I heard my brother’s name being taken up for discussion. “He is in Pune, designing an Audi car for racing.” No matter how much I despised him thanks to our childhood rivalries, this particular statement made my heart swell with pride. Suddenly in front of my head I saw this motion picture running with images of my childhood memories with my brother flashing right in front of my eyes as if it happened yesterday.  Sitting inside his room without him feels quite weird now. The walls of the room ooze his style and temperament and just automatically bring back a lot of memories.  Like cat and dog we were throughout my childhood as far as I can remember. We had our share of fights and fun and managed to stay tight. His fascination with my snub nose that turned red every time he pinched it and his obsession with exerting his rights of being elder by eight years and 364 days, always got onto my nerves. But then those were never heavier compared to the weight of protectiveness he showed on me. It was nice to walk around with an elder brother to flaunt to the world.

.               .               . First cousins we may be, but grow up we did together as siblings J He was the mastermind behind several of my broken toys and wasn’t the apple of my eyes back then. But as they say one realizes the value of something only when it’s gone.  It’s only now that I realize that brother and sister are as close as hands and feet. Care, compassion, love, fights, fun, tears are all things that you can share only with a brother and I am happy I had one to share these and more with. A brother is someone you share childhood memories and grown up dreams with. It’s a pleasure having a brother around, someone to lean on, someone to count on, someone to tell on..

I’ve always had your image in my head as this lanky big brother who loves bullying me. But now the avenues of your life have broadened and you're going places too. You’ve made me proud. Times may change, situations may change too. I know that no matter what, no matter how the world changes, one sweetly-irritating person won’t.  

Forbidden Love

One came out at Day
The other graced the sky at night
One with authority and other with a graceful sway
They sure did make a beautiful sight. 


Soon between them, the sparks did fly
Their love grew more profound as time went by, 
Soon, a moment couldn't pass without them longing to be in each other's arms
But meet, the could not, without causing the earth harm. 


Finally, resist they no longer could
At the end of the day and before the fall of night
Meet at the horizon they would
Turning a cruelly blind eye to the people's plight. 


Passion grew so intense that their intimacy burnt the earth
Men, women and children fled from home and hearth
The sun and moon ignited the atmosphere with their love
When finally it was time for some intervention from the one above. 


Zeus, with his trident in hand
Proclaimed loud, that their love was thereby banned,
For having caused all the mess
For the Sun's execution, he did press.


Soon from his lungs, the air did leave
The moon was now shattered, left to grieve
Nothing or no one could console her broken heart
She was crestfallen, her world was torn apart...


Moon spent her life yearning for her mate
Despite the initial anger, people felt sorry for her cursed fate
Nothing could mend the heart of the moon
Live, she did, in an eternity of gloom. 

Everyone needs someone

What are flowers, if the Sun isn’t there to open them out?

What is the sky, if clouds don’t give it a cute pout?

What is land, if it doesn’t get cleansed of its sins by the rain?

What is a shore, if waves don’t come along to wash away its pain?

 

The leaves of a tree just stay there, still and silent
Worries crowd their little stomata, making them old and bent

It’s only when the wind comes that they open their eyes to life

Rustling in the relief of the cool breeze that erases all lines of strife.

If the vase of existence falls and cracks

We need someone to come along and tape the pieces back

The cracks may show, the wounds may burn

But at least the tape would give it all the love, for which it yearns

My life, alone, is like a dark room with no light

I need you to come in and set all things right

It’s only with you, sunshine, that I can chase away, of sorrows, the night

Coz it’s only when I’m with you that everything’s fine again, everything’s bright J

 

God made not one man, but many

So tat we can help each other live, alleviate sufferings if any

Everyone needs someone to love them and who they can love to every bone,

Everyone needs someone to call their very own.

My First Best Friend- Mom....

When I first opened my eyes,
Her face I saw
Her eyes, love-loaded and wise
Made me just stare in awe…

Ahh…Ohh…Eeee…. She understood every bit of nonsense I said
More than the yummy food she gave me and made me bloat, with her love, me, she fed.
She made me laugh and wiped my tears
She kept me safe and chased away my worst fears!

With me she grew, through the ears
More than mother-daughter, we became friends so dear
We went through together, life’s ups and downs
But we had fun and laughed away all reasons to frown!!

I disobey her and with her I fight
But no matter what happens, with her I always manage to remain tight
For a lot of things I sat on her head
She forgave and forgot, even though, about it to others she said…

I love my mom, I love her a lot
She’s the best in the world and I am lucky that her, I have got
No matter how much we laughed and how much we fought
She will always one a million, special from the lot!!

To my mooh-bola brother...

I used to see you on the corridor, casually talking a walk

I used to hear you, with your friends, interestingly talk

But never once did I think that in my life you would step in…

Never realized that when I first met you all I thought was.. “All these days where have been?”

Met over a school functions and friends we became

A smile used to come up automatically on my face when I heard you calling my name

I knew that for once here’s someone I can call my own

I knew that I could love you, my brother, right down to every flesh and bone!

You’re the brother I never had…

Without you facing life was an experience, horrid and bad

But you came to me, and made everything feel alright

You made me tough and made me realize that for myself I sure CAN fight

Thank you, just for being with me

For your presence was enough for me to realize my strong side, to see

That I can never live without someone like you in my life

Who will be with me, through joy and strife

Thank you…

I love you

A Heart Born to Suffer

 

A heart born to suffer

A heart born to take in pain

A heart which shows not its agony

But smiles in vain.

A heart so fragile

Has never been seen

One that can be broken in the blink of an eye

One that never happy has been.

It was then that I spotted you

And my heart was left streaked with a bright hue

But poor little thing, because it didn’t know

That one fine day, leaving it you had to go

And the poor heart is left in pain

Not a big surprise that it’s happened once again

You must be wondering whose heart is this which has known only to pine

Its no one else’s but mine.

Whose footsteps do I follow?!

.           .           . As we go on as travelers, some enthusiastic, some bored, some tired, through the journey called life, we discover a lot around and within us. New places, new people, new cultures, new disciplines, new characters, new virtues, new lessons, these come by us every moment. One such element which we don’t really miss out on is the people who have a flabbergasting influence on our lives- role models, heroes, etc. So now as I sit here thinking on these lines, a question comes to my mind time and again- who is my idol? Whose footsteps do I follow? On actually giving this particular query some thought, several faces come into not just my head, but everyone’s. When I thought of role model, my mom, few friends, teachers, few cricketers, and few celebrated icons all made their way into my head! Nothing arouses ambition so much as the trumpet clang of another's fame. But the real point was about the extent of influence they had on my life. Did I follow what they stood for? Did I follow all the good they propagated? Little did I know that a question which was so easy to answer when I was 6 would be so tough to respond spontaneously to 10 years later.

                         A role model is formally defined as someone who serves as an example and whose behavior is emulated by others. Going in this direction, I can’t point out a SINGLE person as my role model. To be quite honest, I would consider my life on a  whole and the many entities within it as my example, as the sort of elements I derive inspiration from. When I was three, my environment was my teacher. I learnt from the things and people around me. At that time, my parents were my heroes. If they hated something, that “thingie” wouldn’t find itself in my book of likes. However naughty and crooked I was at that time, when independence was a part of life, my parents were the people I wanted to grow up into. At that time, I wanted to be just like them, responsible know-it-alls who knew right from wrong and at the same got away with their little mischief.

                        And then came the icons and the celebrities, with their high talent and glamour quotient. It was easy to follow them for I always thought being like them would be this easy passageway to success. I idolized stars who could fight all odds and make it into an arena where influence and power is everything. People who rested their faith on hardwork and that good amount of trust on themselves made me believe in myself. In this context, just to satisfy my heart, I would like to name Rahul Dravid, who has been one HUGE influence in my life. I may not be a budding cricketer but the lessons which his life teach merely ordinary beings like me are humongous. Life being a star was not easy, but they carried it off with élan, which definitely got tables turning their way.

                          As time went by, friends became the ones who had maximum impact on my life. But not all were ideal to admire. In this sense, I consider myself lucky to have met some amazing people. I had the pleasure of having few people in my life, who were strong and who faced the yorkers of life with a straight bat. Some were sensitive to others’ feelings and carried themselves keeping their surroundings in mind, while some others, full of grit as they were, dared to face the world with a frank and rather don’t-care attitude. Each of these people invoked a sort of respect within me. They were fearless people who dared to chase their dreams, some being sensitive to others and their opinions, some being ruthless lean mean goal- attaining machines. Either way, they respected people who gave them their space, and no matter what amount of influence they let others have on them, their mind and heart had the last word on all their decisions. Seeing so much of strength and cohesion of their thoughts and actions made me want to judge myself the way they did and not crib about every single problem that came my way. They helped me strong and face strife with courage. If I hadn’t followed their footsteps I wouldn’t be what I am today.

                   I guess now you would have figured out why I was so confused to name one single person as my role model, the person whose footsteps I follow. Despite thinking of so many people, so many moments and experiences, I somehow feel that I follow none, but myself, my life and the lessons I learnt personally on the way. Oliver Goldsmith might have said that People seldom improve when they have no other model but themselves to copy. But looking at it from my shoes, I have no one else but myself to learn from. My joy, my sorrow, my mistakes, errors of judgment have all made into my life’s book. It is ultimately these pages that help me get up when I fall, give me hope when I have none left, give me courage when I refrain from standing up. Ultimately, no matter who you are impressed by, it’s your mind and your heart that you follow. I guess for me, home is where my heart is! J

                                                            --------x-------

Dad

(Based on a true story, as said by a person who wishes to stay anonymous)

Father, Dad, Daddy, Appa, Accha, Papa, the names are many, but the emotions, the trust, the bond behind them, all the same. For every girl, a father is her first love, first best friend, first hero, her everything. He is the man she looks upto in her life, wishing to be as strong and responsible as he is someday. A father is this epitome of everything a girl would like to achieve in her life. It’s this spirit that father’s day celebrates. The Bond between a father and his child, the trust and the belief that no matter what, daddy will always be there, re-iteration of all this is what this day embodies.

            But how I wish every dad was this way- caring, loving and protective. How I wish my dad was that way.

            The last time I saw my dad was around 11 years ago, when he came home to drop by my mom’s and my stuff after divorce. I was 5, with no clue of what was happening around me. I thought it was one of those routine fights that mom and dad were having, with both screaming their heads off at each other and me watching as if it were some wrestling match they showed on tv. And then I never saw daddy again. I used to keep asking mommy why he never came to take us back. I felt that this vacation without daddy was extending way too much. I used to try and remember the times when we spent a few moments together. But sadly there was nothing to look back on because the only thing I remembered was the fights. Daddy never came to school when I won something, he never came to collect my report card and listen to my teacher’s thankfully good comments. He was never there to drop me for any party, neither was he around to take care of me when I was sick. All he had time for was his friends and having fun with them. Mummy cried a lot. She missed him a lot and felt worried about handling the responsibility of bringing me up without letting the fact that he just left affect me in any way. For 11 years my mommy brought me up, being both my dad and my mom. She was there to protect me, love me, scold me, correct me, and be my best friend throughout my life. Where was he?

            On every father’s day, my friends used to tell me about the various things they had purchased for their daddies, watches, perfumes, pens or any of their favorite things. Me? I didn’t know what a dad was like, leave alone know his favorites. At the age of five, his memories were there, crystal clear in my mind. But then as time went by and as I reached my teens, completely enlightened about what sort of a jerk my dad was, he was nothing but a fading image, an image who I felt more than happy to erase from the pages of my memory. When friends asked me what I was planning to do for my dad on father’s day, I just asked, what’s a father?!  

            People say that for a child, existence without a mother is like a body without air. As true as that is, a child does need a father too, someone to tell right from wrong, someone to be an ideal role model, someone to keep mother happy, someone to look at and feel proud, someone to call DAD.

(If any father happens to read this, then please do look at your child once and see how his/her future would be without you to guide them, without you to love them. A child needs both their parents. Never leave them yearning for love. Never let them down. After all, any man can be a father.  It takes someone special to be a dad.  )      

Visit from the Afterworld

Life has taken such a dark turn for me. Everyday seems to be a struggle for me to breathe, for my oxygen has left my lungs, the blood has left my heart. My love has yet not seen the light of day. All these 3 years, I am waiting to the face, that o so divine face of my love, my Ishaat. People here say he’s dead and that he was shot in battle in Kandahar where the police happened to find him. But I don’t believe this. He comes to me every night. When I close my eyes and lay down, sleep deprived, he appears before me, embraces me, and whispers sweet nothings into my ear, just like how it was before he left. I would turn and twist in my bed, with him in my arms, But stupid Ammi, she thinks I am mad. How will she know what it feels to be loved and then to be deprived of it for three whole years?
Insha Allah he’ll come back soon, I thought all this while. But today, he came back. And no, I am not dreaming. He came today to see me. At 12 am sharp, I saw him standing by the well where he had first proposed his love for me. You will not believe how unbelievably happy I was at the moment. I feel asphyxiated. I could not move. My eyes scanned his lovely, muscular figure, his lotus like eyes lined with black kohl, his stubble, dark straight hair and that subtle waiting smile. I saw him, finally, with his arms wide open, expecting me to fly into them and never leave him for eternity. I didn’t waste time thinking. I ran to him and held him tight.
Something was different though. Something felt new. He had an unusually heavenly glow now. He smelt like freshly bloomed roses..! He had a sort of divinity to him today. Was it because I was seeing him after three long years? Was it because of all the rumors of his death? Or was it just my love that was making me lose my mind? I held him close to myself, like I always did, so that I heard his fast heartbeat. But this time, I heard no heartbeat. This took me by surprise and I sprung out of his tight hug. I looked at him, the moonlight illuminating his handsome features. Instead of getting lost in his beauty, I just took one look behind him. There was no shadow.
The hair on my skin stood up. My eyes widened and my hands shivered in fear! “Who are you? Why do you look like my Ishaat? Are you trying to make fun of me, make fun of my love?” Tears rolled down my cheek as I said the above words. Confused and afraid I stood there. That’s when this being walked towards me, his gait, the same as Ishaat’s.
He came close to me, brushing away me tears he said “Mehul, This is me, your Ishaat. How can you not recognize me? Has my absence erased my form from your mind?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was Ishaat’s voice of course, but it had a certain sweetness which made me want to get lost in it. But then fear overruled every bit of attraction to him and I muttered, “Why doesn’t you heart beat anymore? Why don’t you have a shadow?” That’s when I realized that maybe the rumors I had heard about Ishaat were true, maybe he had met his...no..!!!!
Ishaat sensed the tension on my face. He held me by my shoulders and said “What you are thinking now is both true and false. I am dead for the world, but alive for you. My soul has left my earthly body. Look into my eyes and you will know everything.”
Not daring to disobey, I most willingly looked into his beautiful light brown eyes, but to my horror they soon turned red and in them I saw him, my love being shot at like a dummy by some people in kaki uniforms. I presumed that they were the police. I was sweating profusely and tears trickled from my eyes seeing Ishaat being shot at like that. I felt the urge to scream but when I opened my eyes, I couldn’t make a sound. I couldn’t move. The shock of the truth was too much to handle for me. I closed my eyes, not being able to look at a single drop of blood fall from his beautiful cadaver. But the noise of what this ghostly being was showing me made me open my eyes again. There I saw Ishaat falling in battle, his last word being ‘Mehul’. I felt a vibration go through me. I felt my insides twisting. Ishaat was dead… I couldn’t believe it. I closed my eyes and screamed for what seemed like a life time and I broke away from the man who held me and ran as fast as I could…
I could not sleep the whole of the night. I couldn’t open my eyes either because the fear of seeing that thing which looked like Ishaat still scared me! Ishaat… he was gone. He would never come back… I couldn’t believe this. My sight blurred due to the water filling up my eyes. Wasn’t there anything I could do to bring him back? Hadn’t I waited for him for three whole years? I couldn’t live with this truth. At that moment I knew what it felt like to want to die.
The next day, I didn’t violently wake Ammi up from her sleep. I freshened up and went on to do my chores. Every minute seemed like a year now.  All I could see was Ishaat, everywhere, all the time. My heart beat very fast when I thought of what all I had seen and felt last night. I wanted to rip my insides off but I couldn’t… When Ammi woke up, she saw that all the work was done and that I was sitting near the door, calm and melancholic. She came next to me and checked if I had a fever and kept asking me if I was alright. But I couldn’t speak. For whenever I opened my mouth to say something, the truth that I had learnt about my life choked me!
Days were useless, nights were sleepless. Life was loveless. I felt lifeless without my Ishaat. All along I had lived with the hope of seeing him one day. But now that hope had been shattered to pieces. I looked up at the skies, cursing my fate. I closed my eyes. I felt broken within. With a huge sigh, I opened my eyes only to be staring into a sea of red. I wondered why the sky had changed color. But that’s when I realized what I was looking into. The ghost’s red eyes!!! Horror slowly sent chills down my spin. I tried moving. But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t close my eyes. I didn’t want to hear those hooligans shooting down my Ishaat, but I couldn’t shut my ears. Paralyzed as I was at that moment, I wished to get out of that excruciating environment. The next thing I knew, I was lying on my bed at home.
Ammi, with worry written on her face, was pacing up and down the room. One look at my opened eyes and she sprang on to me, bombarding me with questions, “What happened to you? Aise behosh kyun thi? You think just because I your step mother I don’t care about you...” I couldn’t catch the rest! All I could think was my Ishaat and there came the tears again. This perplexed Ammi even more! But I couldn’t do anything. His memory and that god forsaken ghost were haunting the life out of me.
Hakim saab told Ammi that I was in some sort of shock and as a result of that, Ammi decided to send me to Bhaijaan’s house for a few days so that I could relieve myself of any tension, if I had any. Bhaijaan was more than happy to have me over! When we were small, we used to spend most of the time together, playing, pulling each others’ hair, fighting for mangoes in Ramu chacha’s orchard. All that changed when Ishaat came around… Uff Ishaat, and there come the tears again. Why can’t I get passed him, why can’t my mind free itself of his memories? I went around silently, confused and sad, much to bhaijaan’s worry.
After dinner, he took me aside and looked curiously into my eyes, only to see them moist and tired. “Kya baat hai? Why do you look so? What happened to you Choti? Tell me”. I couldn’t keep myself shut; I flung into his arms and cried my heart out. He realized that my sorrow found roots in Ishaat’s death. He consoled me, speaking positively to me. Though I listened and reciprocated well to all that he said, my heart just kept asking how long these words would keep Ishaat out of my thoughts.
At bhai’s house, Ishaat didn’t trouble me. But when I came back home, the feeling of being lost came back all over again. Ishaat and his red eyes never let me sleep in peace. I soon became so Ishaat-phobic that I behaved insane many a time. Thoughts of his losing him, thoughts of that being all troubled me in measures too much for my heart to take!  But then, I thought to myself. Why was I scared? What would be the worst thing that could happen to me? I would die. But then that’s nothing to be scared off. I would gladly accept death to be with my love, to be with Ishaat. After all at least if this ghost kept coming back, hen I would get to him, my love, in some form. I can cherish that memory forever. With this thought in mind, I would go and stand by the well on the night of every full moon expecting my Ishaat.
And he didn’t disappoint me. He came again, from the afterworld- to see me! This time, it was just love and no fright. I went and stood next to him. His eyes, ever so beautiful, and no longer red, looked straight into mine. I held out my hand to touch his well toned torso where a heart once used to beat frantically when I was nearby. From time to time, he looked sadly onto the tear-stained cheeks and sleep deprived eyes of mine. And then, I saw something that broke whatever bit of my heart was left. A tear made its way out of eye and onto his cheek, onto my hand. I tried wiping its pathway off his face. But it didn’t erase itself.
That’s when Ishaat said “Don’t even try, Mehul. It’s a tear which will not erase itself. I maybe dead. But my feelings for you still burn like a flame within my formless self. The days you used to get scared of me, those were the days I truly died because I expected nothing but love from you. I never wanted to hurt you. I loved you, I love you now, and I will love you forever and ever.” His hands slowly made their way into an embrace and he pulled me close to him. “The minute you decided to cherish this amorphous appearance of mine, that moment I realized how much you rally loved me. I am the luckiest man, or should I say ghost to have a woman love me even after I am dead.”
            “Then why did..why did you leave me Ishaat? Couldn’t you…s.s.s..see how lost I was without you? Couldn’t you f.f..feel my agony?” I managed to say in between sobs. “Of course I did. Which is why I came today, to take you with me. I can’t be without you, whether I am man or a ghost. These eyes, those enchanting eye lashes, your beautifully shaped lips, that intoxicating voice, your filling love is all that I need, Mehul. Come with me and we can be together for all eternity.”
            What happened after this is what truly pumped life into me. I left my earthly body behind to be with my Ishaat. But then, images of Ammi crying over my dead body flashed through my eyes… And so I left her a letter.


Dear Ammi,
            Please forgive this daughter for what she’s going to do now… Ammi I love Ishaat. And he has come to take me with him, into eternity where nothing, not even god can separate us. I must sound insane, Ammi. But this is the truth. Ishaat is not alive. But nevertheless his love for me, was and will always be. I am giving up my earthly body for love Ammi.. You aren’t my true mother. But I have always loved you like one. Please understand why I took this decision. Ammi, love is pure.. Love is a feeling that makes you feel secure, makes you feel like that one person is enough for you even if the rest of the world walks out on you... Love is worth it, provided its pure and involves the body and soul..! Love is worth every moment spent together if the feelings were true and from the heart... This is how I feel about Ishaat Ammi. I can’t live without him. And if giving up this lifetime is what it takes to be with him, then I am ready for it. Its only that one person who can give you what you truly are searching for. Love makes life - life! Love alone.! Its somewhat like happiness, where the journey is more beautiful than the destination! I want to be with Ishaat Ammi. But don’t worry. I am not leaving you. Just close your eyes and I’ll be there with you. I love you Ammi. Thanks and sorry for everything..

Aapki
Mehul…

Mind Voice

Life had changed in a matter of ten days.. Things felt different. The whole campus seemed to exude a vibe of hatred. School didn't feel like the happy place it was just days back. The gates, looking small thanks to the sea of children who were trying to squeeze through, the large ground that suddenly didn't seem all that large, the empty road with scanty number of vehicles present, all seemed a little too strange all of a sudden, a little alien..Throughout the 5 minute walk from the gates to class, a range of scenes passed through my mind, of him walking with me, the memory of the smell of his freshly washed hair, his smile, his hand trying to catch mine, and of course the stark reality that all that were things of the past. School now just revolved around him and our closeness (apart from studies of course :p ). He was a hand that reached out to me when i found myself in a sticky spot. He was that ray of light that made the darkness go away. Second term though promised change. Change in school life as I knew it. The 8 am bell was an indication of a new experience waiting for me, a new journey waiting to begin- a life with him being so close yet so very far.   Every step i took towards class was another reminder that i was taking a step towards a new kind of life in school. And I was right, it was gonna be very different...