Guilt.

Guilt is what I feel lately, everytime I see their faces. A gardener sows the seed,waters it every day and protects it from the outside world till it blossoms into a beautiful tulip. such love,hard work and care.

And that is just a flower for us.just another flower that most of us never notice.

Can we compare humans with nature? How our parents compromise and work all their life to earn for us. Provide for us, shape our personality to make us better people? They let go of their desires , just for us.Werent they teenagers once?Had they never dreamt of having fancy houses and cars and spending lavishly on whatever attracts their eye?

Yet in all these years all I have ever seen is them doing what I want. Getting what I want. Even then every night before sleeping and several times during the day,I make a mental note.

' When I will be working and rich, I will get me this. I will go on a world tour.' 
and thats just the start of it all, there are so many things that I have told myself to buy when I am old.

Today, on my way back from my friends house I fell asleep in the car.Due to the movement my head would keep on falling to the side,disturbing my sleep. and then it stopped falling and I went into the deepest sleeping state ever.When I woke up, my dad had his arm in the most awkward position. The sort of position you change the very minute. but his arm wasnt moving.it was there,still. He was uncomfortable then why not move his arm?

Thats when I realised my head isnt moving because HE KEPT HIS ARM THERE, to support it so I can sleep.

Never in my life, have I done anything even close to what my parents have done for me. May be for you ,it was just an arm. But not all parents do it,especially not all fathers. He could have let my head be. but he didnt, he opted for discomfort for my comfort. How selfless it seems. The only memories I have, are the ones in which he is asleep and I am shouting and I wake him up.accidently ofcourse. but I never thought that my father is sleeping so I should be quiet. It never occured to me, HE was like I am.

I have been sitting and pondering.Thought after thought I feel worse, why have I never stepped up?Its not that I dont love him or I dont care.Its the fact that it never occurs to us children ,what our parents do for us. Had I never woken up, I wouldnt have known.It makes me wonder, how many things have my parents done that I have no idea about? I wouldnt ever, make my self uncomfortable just like that. I am selfish. but dad, he didnt seem to think anything was unordinary about the whole gesture.

Today, I am over emotional. Guilt is bothering me. It is indeed a silent calling to the subconscious.

Perhaps, the unknown keeps us glued to sinful desires. Denied pleasure will always raise curiostity.This, being the LAW OF ASSUMED NEGATIVITY.

Final Goodbye.

A week. That's all I have, before my life changes. You, my love, are my precious.

My mother,
My friend,
My energy,

My will,
My love,
My everything,
My SISTER.

You must leave and in that particular way, I am actually happy for you. But I dont like shopping for your departure.

Haan muje pata hai, you will always be there lekin sid, how can we be the same? YOU and ME?

How will 'mina mano' feel everytime her name is called.will mano not miss MINA? isnt that what started it all?the mina mano's , the mina apa's, the mina patti's .....

Will I not be reminded of you, every time I walk in the corridor or when I will sit in the room you, once occupied. Everyday, I shall see the door infront of my room ( our room) and wonder when will I see you again.

Will I want to wear your clothes, marinated in hugo boss?

Tears are streaming down my face, my heart is skipping beats.None of what I have written is emotional but the mere thought of not seeing you everyday,of not having you around and most of all, bidding you farewell is pulling my guts down the well.

I have always relied on you for every little and huge deal!You give me strength but you are my weakness. I need you forever, I will love you forever.

When you left for university I knew you will come back to me.I was sure, we will spend lots of time together building memories which will live till our last breath.

Now, you will be HIS.Forever. Dont get me wrong, he is a great person and inshallah you both will have all the happiness and sucess in the world.Its just that you will be so far away.GONE.

No matter where you go and what you become. Back home,here, in the corner room,where sunrays rarely reach It will always be ME, waiting for you with open arms.

These dances, they tire me. I dont enjoy them as much as I show. I dont really, have the energy to wear a happy face. But today,I will.

Lekin sid, who will keep an eye on me? who will love me,unconditionally? Who will be my best friend and do everything for me,big and small. Who will see me, for me? Who will make me believe in the best of life?and who will put a stop to my worries,panic attacks,depression,anger and every other emotion that I have ever felt?

Love you so much,so very much that now it HURTS.

Lines that define Boundaries.

You sit quietly in the corner of your class staring into space. Thinking about what was and what never will be. 

How eight innocent girls laughed in the courtyard. The loud cheerful laugh, the sort that made people turn and wonder. Perfect days, full of sarcasm, irony, wit and humour. Laiden with only the best comments and plans. Such authority, ability to do the extreme. Live the extreme and be the extreme. What boundaries? What lines?

Under the lush green Japanese fruit tree,stand maturing girls. Right under the brown bark, next to the red brick building. Trademarks. Curious gazes shift from one person to the next in search of something more interesting than the gossip at hand.

The bell rings. Children rush out of their classes. Out of the buildings, pushing and screaming. A blue cube shaped excuse of a canteen. Girls yelling at the top of their lungs. Screaming for samoosa’s and top pops as though life depended on it. Crooked que’s, 6^th graders squeezing their way through and the senior most class staring people down. The bell rings again, break is over. Many leave hungry but the seniors. They stay, eat and take some food to class. All is allowed.

Ninth grade-window row. Worst row. An unforgettable view of what never really mattered at the time. A want to be unique. Turns being taken to stand and sit. Annoying the biology teacher, making her wonder why she ever chose to teach them. Sit stand. Stand sit.

Computer, an amazing discovery and the perfect excuse for thoughtless flings. Long march to the lab and back. Accompanied by wolfish grins and flirtatious remarks. Little boys with such great expectations. Time for first love but all efforts in vain. Girls with different interests.

Eleventh grade, under the bridge, right next to the bathroom window. ‘I want you to stay don’t go with them’ attempts made to justify one decision made in absolute sincerity. Will to get across and make you understand. Failure. Your walk to the library, urgency to join the rest. Future at hand, alone. So very alone without you. Bitter nostalgia.

8 a.m. Pulse increasing as the clock ticks. Fifteen more minutes. Each second ensuring its worth is felt. Pupils dilate. It’s almost time. Line after line moves towards the *ground between the three huge buildings* .tick tock tick tock. Everyone is right in front. Friends and strangers, lovers and haters. Your name is called. You can’t breathe. Concentration is so much that you feel dizzy. Nausea. Long steps to the stage, you get your sash. Smile. An original but nervous smile. Eyes in search of familiar faces. There you are. Thank you for everything.

Friendships. Strange beginnings and sad ends. A letter capable of changing life. Bringing you close to other people. Three girls talk non-stop in class. Soul sisters. Your presence is still felt.

Mistakes and regrets are like egg and yolk. One follows the other. You loved her but you tried to tame her to your ways. Limits are not acceptable. Your downfall was because of what no one ever spoke off. Yet they exiled you. Life sentence. Final goodbyes turned to shouting, accusing and hurting. Too much anger and careless words. A couple of seconds leave eight long years forgotten. You loved me; at least that’s what I believe.

Plans and excitement. Your anticipation beyond imagination. A short run to the black and yellow car. Push, shift, make more room. Caught in the act. An angry man yelling and raising his stick as a warning. Getting down, being forced to re-enter the vicinity. Embarrassment, still beyond imagination. Breaking into a run. Find an excuse. Save face, must find excuse.

Then and now. Two years. Running short of memories. Pictures aren’t enough to pacify the heart. It wants more. Flesh and blood. Emotions. 

An invisible line starts to sketch its way into life. Pointing out the obvious. Continous lectures, long days. Conversations get shorter. Distance has arrived. Night gets lonelier and calmer. Heart is sinking. Absence is not appreciated, can be done without. Monthly gatherings. Lack of gossip. Sleep deprivation along with deprivations felt much more. Different aims, hopes, dreams and opinions. Personalities still matching but not as much. Attempts being made to restore the lost but its much more than us. Time and place and experiences. 

Some are stronger, some weirder and some unrelatably changed. In hopes to hear the unforgettable laughter the line defining our boundaries has been drawn.