I need to know now, Can you love me again?

Walking along the brightly lit windows, scanning the numerous eager faces popping here and there you lose yourself in a world of endless possibilities.

There is Michael, nuh, there's a shop keeper. There are a handful of gorgeous men and beautiful ripe women. All ready to take and be taken. Be Mine, said she holding out her hand, her soul and body. So vulnerable, so so open.

She clings on to her raft as the waves beat against it, one by one shattering dreams, her image of self. The tide takes her to a deserted island, lifeless and gullible. The moment sand touches her bare feet she breaks down, tears roll down her face. For once in days of self loathing,denial and stress , she doesn't feel alone.  There is water all around her. She walks towards the ocean till the waves get higher and higher. High above her collar bone, dancing to her heart beat. Knowing fully well she is not a swimmer, heck she cant swim to save her own life, she challenges all odds. There deep down in the ocean, the mother of all that is good stirs taking with its commotion , a life full of lies.

Under the crystal chandelier He holds on to her tightly. His hand, her back. Her hand, his hand. They move around amongst all dancers effortlessly. Each move bringing the two closer together till they reach a point where they breathe the same air. He inhales, she exhales. He leads her away from the dance floor , to a garden under the starry sky. Tonight he will make her, his.

There is a ritual amongst Muslims, to pray five times daily. To take all your deeds, good and bad and seek from your Lord, refuge.

For the one thousand thoughts she has made me think. For the love that is running wild in her heart, for the man who stops the world, for a wronged religion, for the death of a million desires and for a life time of apple tea. I salute you, for being alive.

Of beginnings and end.

So I was young and naive but wasn't that years ago? I thought I had learned from my mistakes. Fixing a routine of convenience I tangoed around life. Memory after memory and yet heart break. This once the murderer is none but myself.

There he was sitting on the side, all quiet and observant. I thought to my self, how far have we come and yet so strange is what we feel. They don't see what we do and they never will. What I am to you and you to me.

The road unravels a strange feeling of belonging as her curls caress the soft curves of her body. He looks into her eyes and just in that particular instant she lets her guard down. Forgetting what she thought would be, she enters the world of endless possibilities.

She expects you to hold her hand yet not state how broke you know, she is. Between will and ability, there is disability. Some part of hers already loves you. The other is merely in denial.

The best friend walks by her side talking about love. Did she not say it happens once in your life? Now it all makes sense. The future beholds only regret and shame.

This time it is I who find my self running from my dreams. Dreams may be dreamt again, hands may become warm again , eyes may penetrate my soul once more but the innocence in me is lost.

She will no longer be yours, just show me what you make of that. Make me believe just for a moment, it wasn't just in my head.

Let her know you loved her, at least back then it was true?

This is me.

You know how they say things change over time? They are right but no one ever warns you of the great probability of reaching a point where you might not be relatable to self. The people who you claim to know since forever fade away, emerging only as strangers. We justify the change and try to accustom ourselves to the variables, hanging on to tiny threads of emotions, we have been feeling since puberty, when the gigantic monster of emotions was raised by a whirlpool of hormones.

This was once home, full of people. They were not always kind to each other yet they were one, always pulling each other through tough times. Years passed by, we began to age. The childhood games started to make lesser sense and things grew serious. One by one the children grew, till the parents no longer had to put them to sleep, nor did they need any more curfews.

It was the long silent nights that bear witness to my memories. How, when the parents room light would go off, little hopes and dreams would expand and bring together tiny heads under the bed sheet, scheming. When the cat is away, the mice will play.

Its August 2005, the boats are set to sail. Slowly people make way to their destinations, making several stops just to ensure the hesitance they feel isn’t loss but doubt alone. Do you know what it feels like to walk into a room? A room full of memories, of fights and screams, of love and joy, of salt and saffron, and find it vacant. Do you hear those muffled sounds, the air around you makes? Do you know what makes you a stranger in your own shoes?

Year 2009. Home is home again. There is life and shrieks of joy. There is anger and disappointment. There are hallways exploding with the past. There is chit chat and ho ha’s.  Do you know what it is like to have them back or how relaxed you can feel because the walls no longer mock you. There is no childhood left in any of us yet in being adults we have discovered a childhood of our own.

2010,2011. The sailboats are now huge ships. The kind that never stop. They are loaded and we say our goodbyes. Farewell is always sad. Do you know what it feels like to lose family? Do you know why the tears fall and the heart changes its rhythm to match your mood? Do you know, moving on may take more from you than promised? Do you know; if you set them free once, they never really come back?

And everything goes on...

The sun has risen not long ago, cool winter breeze blows to welcome another day. The curtains fall calmly on the frosty windows. The birds are no where in sight. Winter mornings are slow and quiet. Even the mailman and the newspaper boy are late.The pure white persian cat curls up under the quilt just when the phone rings.

There it is. The news that will change everyones life forever. The cycle of life. For every life that is sent to this world another is taken away, maintaining the balance. Children are born, they grow old and die. No one notices or cares other than the immediate family. After a few days of sobbing, everyone moves on. They are not selfish, just realistic, for life waits for no one. You either work your way through or you let the current take you with it. The only choice is to do it gracefully.

There she is, lying there infront of me. They keep on saying, it seems like she is sleeping peacefully. They say she looks calm. They say a lot of other things too but none of it sinks in. They dont know what its like to be standing infront of her. I am sure they felt the same emotions when they had to go through it. However, at this particular moment, they dont relate to me. They repeat their sentences but it doesnt matter. She is gone. She wont ever be back and I will never see her again.

I will not move my hand on her smooth skin, hold her hand, fix her dupatta , give her water. I wont be doing anything with or for her ever again. You stand infront me of and ask me to stay strong and to not break down.

All I am thinking ; I am strong but there is no strength in this world that can face death.

I will not break down, for what is already in pieces cannot crumble anymore.

The clock keeps on ticking, it has no mercy on us.It ticks and ticks till it is time they take you away. Here they come,they lift you and take you away praying loudly. And here we are, fighting the urge to run after you. We let go because we have no choice.

The only consolation I have is a memory,so clear so true.There you were asking me to help you, put you out of your misery and all I could do for you was tell you ,in a bit. That day I finally saw life through another angle.

We spend all our lives building houses and buying cars.We opt for every materialistic thing we lay our eyes on. However, when our end is near, none of that means anything. Things are lifeless objects and objects donot console. Objects donot comfort or support. Objects just sit on their place and constantly remind you how shallow you actually are. How you always made the wrong choice and never saw relations above them.

Somehow you always knew this.You never cared who stole what as long as everyone was happy. You let go of so many things that would anger us but now I see why.Now I see a lot of things differently.

I cannot do anything to bring you back but pray. They say prayers change lives and I believe them. For it is my prayers that gave me another two weeks with you. We are your children, we are your legacy. We always were and we will always be.

Today,I just hope we turn out to be the best of humans. If not the best then only near the best.My prayers are yours,now and forever.

Ballai lugees.

For a woman who has loved me regardless of my acts,looks,language,behaviour,personality and character. My manners meant nothing to her neither did my ignorance. You would overlook all my deeds, all the times when I would defy you by playing out under the warm sunrays. I always thought it was fun to run out when you told me not to. Then you would follow me out the kitchen door, come to me, convince me to go in. I would never listen but somehow you would stay out with me.Under the sun you would wait for me to go back in with you. Regardless of your age and your strength.You stood by me.

I havent forgotten all those childhood days when you would forcefully shower me against my will. I would run around the house to avoid you but you would make it a point to shower me,comb my hair, change my clothes. You always treated me like your own child,like I mattered the same.

You were so weak and thin,yet on every dinner and lunch you would be on my case. Forcing me to eat and then eat a little more.You always worried so much for me when you had the choice not to. I wasnt your responsibility but you made me yours. 

I can, never forget those numerous days,thousands they are. When you would see me and say ballai lugees.I would wonder why would you say it to me.Why would you want all my pain and hardships? You couldnt handle any of those, you werent strong enough physically. Yet, even at the time you couldnt walk on your own and you couldnt remember me everytime you would say this to me. And everytime I would silently ask God to not listen to you. I would never want you to take my evil , never.

I still have the pink wool safe in  my cupboard. The one you told me you like. Its small but its there. Its something I relate to you and it makes me smile and feel loved everytime I look at it or hold it between my fingers.I remember that day really well.The conversation we had. How you wouldnt let me press your legs ,even though you were undeniably in severe pain.

For all the memories I have of you, I have not once told you that I love you and that none of it went unnoticed. That you matter to me and I  love you very much. I have never told you how glad I was ,when you recognized me on your sickest of days. How loved I felt ,when you would ask me if  I had eaten ,or asked me to go home, its late. I have never in my life, made you feel the way you made me feel. I have ,never held you the way you held me.May be, I can never match your love. May be I have failed you. I worry. I have regrets.I always took all that for granted, I never stopped, for even a second to thank you. Today ,I am really scared. I have no words or strength but I LOVE YOU.

This is for the woman who always put us before herself.This is for a mother who never loved less, for a wife who never forgot, for a grandmother who took our worst, for a relative who was always there,for a human who was taken for granted.

This is for a woman who is very sick and who might not recognize me, today.

For those who care but pretend otherwise....

In this world, there are many people, catagorized into various groups.The group that has got me thinking ,is of those particular people who we meet everyday. They care, we are sure they do! however, they wont ever own upto it.Like its something bad.

Labels, we all avoid them.Though it bothers me, how we assume telling someone how we feel and acting accordingly will expose us.Why do we play with our feelings and theirs? Its like hearts.The game of ace's and queens. Those who have mastered, win. While two's and three's get played over and over again. There are a few jacks and kings who deal with these things a little better than others. Everday, over and over that queen comes to class or your life. She makes you feel unwanted,she makes you question your feelings and thoughts.Another human being having the power to let you down, the ability to make you fall in your own eyes.And what a fall that is.

A boy who tells a girl she is his everything and then leaves her. A girl who tells her friend she will always be there and never is. A mother who promises to love you forever but she is never around. A pet who you adore and not otherwise. A hot cup of tea you want every morning to start your day, all you get is a few sips of cold water. Rain when all you wanted was sunsine.

People. Such artists we all are.The time of purity and truth has evaded us years ago.Then,I used to laugh more, smile at strangers because there was love and mystery and no tension in the world.

Now, I whine and frown.Every day I dress up,put an indifferent face and walk into the crowd.Those who dont matter ignore me, those who matter feel nothing. We hide our emotions to protect ourselves but we have become so lost in our own world that others dont matter. We all want to be loved but we are scared to love back. We want to be trusted but we cant ourselves. We want someone reliable but no one fits our  definition. We want happiness but 'OUR HAPPINESS' is something that never exists.

We set the highest possible standards and then we see ourselves fail.again and again. If you want something, do you put it on the top shelf where u can never reach? do u lock it in the store? do you give it away? Why have we put our feelings,thoughts,emotions,relations and everything else we have grown into, on that dusty shelf that we rarely visit.

Does it make us any better?Any stronger? Is hiding doing any of us good or is it the easiest way to throw everything away.

Today, it is 2010. Indifference, isnt an emotion but that is all we feel.

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.