Percussion of thoughts…

8th Jan, 2008

Percussion of thoughts…
Foundations ruined!
Foundations formed!

Demise of values…
Morals found!
Morals lost!

Array of rights…
What’s sought?
What’s got?

Accusations flaunted -
Baseless, thoughtless.

Emotions displayed -
Fake, forged, fictitious.

A world,
Where ambiguity reigns
Like Kings in a dream.

Where love comes to those
Who yearn for debris.

Where lust becomes dharma
And destruction becomes karma.

Where do I stand?
If I kill, I may succeed.

And return to being a baby
Smiling and sleeping to lullabies.

I will find happiness, without you!

When I gaze, I see you...

When I dream, I feel you...

When I breathe, I smell you...

When I run, I follow you...

When I stop, I gasp with you...

When I fall, I hold you...

When I walk, I lean on you...

When I leave, I cry with you...

My prince...

He slept like an angel...

He laughed like a dream...

He craved like a child...

He loved like forever....

How I wish, I could live with you...

How I curse fate, I had to leave you...

How I pray, for your happiness...

And how I hope...

I will find happiness...

Without you!

To my fake friend!

Why pretend be my friend?

And ditch me in the end?

Why further offend?

When I dont defend!

Why that smile still?

When you always wanted to kill?

Why crib and command?

When you've already abandoned?

You needn't walk beside me, behind me or before me

As long as you don't stab me,

It's fine!

Today Was The Day...

Today was the day when I felt so lost...

Life seemed so forced, as if tomorrows wouldn't follow...

I saw myself cry...

Shed tear after tear...

I saw myself hate...

With every cell, cursing fate...

Why does every man leave?

After claiming to love me?

Why does every friend,

Still love, care and kill me?

Why does family stay?

And ex-lovers flay?

Why does my job suck?

And life seem so gray?

Am I on the right road?

Is this the right way?

Will morrow be better?

Will I fall, fail or flare?

Today was the day when I felt so lost...

Yet I live on...

Cause life is so forced!

My First Heart Break

4rth July 2007

Bereaved -

Yet deprived from my right to tears!

Shattered -

Yet forced to stay intact!

Sought after -

Yet lonely!

Life -

My Life...?

No longer mine anymore!

Yet...

Still,

In love with life...!

(The first time, it hurts like hell. Then, you get used to it I guess!)

Lessons From A Tailess, Hairless, Blind Pink Meatball

I wouldn't call my family a very "pet friendly" one. But we have had a lot of pets, ranging from cats, dogs, love birds, rabbits, a guinea hen, a turtle and so on. But one pet that has always remained close to my heart is my squirrel.

This again, is an old story. Happened about 17 years ago, way back in 1992. I was in the third grade. We were in India then. It was almost a year since the Gulf war. Mom and dad had returned to Kuwait. We kids stayed back at one of dad's cousin's houses, waiting for Kuwait to get safer for families to return.

Dad's cousin sister stayed in Palkad, Kerala. It was a village with lots of trees, a river, hills, tiled and thatched houses and of course a bunch of uneducated but innocent people. The facade of her house opened to lush green paddy fields stretched as far as one's eyes could see. Beyond the fields, stood the hills and the waterfalls - such a beautiful sight.

One fine morning, we were getting ready for school. That was when war would erupt at home. Queues at the bathroom door. Fights at the breakfast table. Homeworks half done and our auto-rickshaw driver who would always come early when we were late.

That day was no different. I was angry I had to plait my long hair on my own. I had pretty long hair then (an ample supply of lice too). I insisted the maid plait them and adorn them with a rose each day. But she was busy washing plates by the well.

Suddenly, we heard her scream. She had stooped to draw water from the well, when she felt something cold and fleshy, fall on her back. We rushed, to see a small hairless meat ball - alive, squeaking and trying to move on her. I cupped my palms and took it in slowly. It was pink in colour and its eyes were closed.

The tail seemed short. It was cut and was bleeding. A crow had mistakenly dropped its meal. But we couldn't figure out what the creature was. Whatever species it belonged to, it was a lucky meatball, to be alive.

I took it inside and placed it in the warmth of coconut husks (abundant in Kerala!) and fed it milk with an eye dropper. Someone said it was a rat. Someone else suggested it was a squirrel. What difference did it make? As far as I was concerned, I hoped it would live.

Days passed by, and our love for the pink hairless meatball only grew. It started sprouting fur. Thats when someone figured out it was actually a squirrel. To us it was immaterial by then. We had started loving it, immaterial of its genesis. (First lesson learnt - Love Doesnt Distinguish Race)

One day, as I fed 'him' (I figured out that much by then!), he opened his eyes! That was an awesome feeling. To be the first person, to be seen, by an infant! I figured out how heroic yet humbled gynecologists felt, when a new born right out of the mother's womb, looked straight at them. (Second lesson learnt - Some Lessons In Life Are Taught By People Younger To You)

I felt more responsible for him. I felt I need to help him. Feed him. Grow him. Teach him. Lead him. I was hardly a ten year old. But I already knew what motherhood pangs meant! (Third lesson learnt - You Need To Be A Mother To Know How She Feels)

He grew into a handsome squirrel. His golden brown coat, the three white lines which extended from his head towards his long bushy tail ... oops! did I say "long"? Well, that was the only thing he lacked. He had a short stubbed tail, but that dint keep him from exploring the world. He was a proud prankster. (Fourth lesson learnt - A Lost Limb Doesn't Necessarily Mean A Life Lost)

He used to climb up my hands, to the back of my neck and cuddle within my hair, often falling asleep in the warmth. He used to bite everyone except me. He took a liking to drinking Tang. He loved bananas and mangoes, to the extend, once he almost choked to death when a large chunk of mango blocked his trachea. He almost passed out.

I thought we lost him. I realized why people cried at funerals. I understood what it meant to lose someone. How it hurt to know that they would never return. I started crying. But, thanks to my aunt's prompt thinking, she managed to pull out the fruit with the help of a steel fork. He gasped. Coughed. Blinked. And was back on feet and running around soon.

But little did I know I would lose him soon. Not to fate. But to his personal choice.

He had a cage, which was always left open. He was free to roam and was used to climbing up the trees and exploring his small world. But he always came back before dark. (Some good manners!)

But one day, I kept waiting. And he never came. The night passed with no sign of him. Two days passed and still no squirrel. My tears saw no limits. How could he abandon me? What had I not done for him? Has he no gratitude? No memories? No love or regard? After all what was he without me? An orphaned, tailless hairless blind pink meat ball.

I equated my helplessness with that of parents, when children left them in search of happiness, to build their dreams, to live their lives. (Fifth lesson learnt - You Cant Expect People To Reciprocate Exactly The Way You Want Them To)

Eventually my tears dried. I accepted that he would never come back. But I still loved him. Cherished memories of him. Prayed for him to be happy. Wished him good luck. Bid him farewell.

I was growing up.

I was thinking like a woman.

I was learning to forgive and forget.

Though I dint realize then, I had just learnt the greatest lesson of life.

29 07 1994: Flight - III & IV 'KWT - Muscat' & 'Muscat - TVRM'

It was 9 pm by the time the airport authorities figured out what to do with us - passengers. We were to stay at the airport's 5 star hotel for the night. We would be put on the flight to India the next day.

We managed to collect our baggage and went to our room. It was quite a struggle. Especially with no special care for the "Unaccompanied". But, we really dint bother as we were finally treated as adults and left to do 'our own stuff'.

The room was comfy. The white beds, cosy and inviting. I remember watching TV till late before sleeping off on the bed I shared with Chechi. We slept well... rather too well.

The next day, the 29th of July, by around 11.30 am, we were awaken, by knocks on the door. You could call them bangs rather.

We found a neatly dressed man and a smart lady at our door. They wished us,

"Good morning Mam! Good morning Sir!"

We turned around to see if they actually meant us.

"Your breakfast has been arranged for. May we take you to the hall?"

We were sure they were mistaken. We tried to figure out. But they insisted we follow them. We had to do a rush job with our brushing and pulled on something to wear.

The dining hall was empty. There was a table, neatly arranged and set for three. We figured that our fellow passengers must have already had their breakfast.(People dont generally eat breakfast at 12.00 noon)

We were treated with special care and attention wherever we went. (Little did we know then that dad had called the airport that morning to check on us, only to get a casual reply that our room was locked and we must be sleeping. He gave them a 'royal hearing'. The sudden red carpet treatment was an after math of that lecture session, I presume).

We were told we would be sent to India, as separate batches in different flights. We had no reason to complain. To us it meant, one more day at Kuwait and that too at a 5 star hotel, great food, plenty of TV watching and gaming without scoldings.

There was a large hall for indoor games at the hotel, with plenty of games too. That was where I first saw a Football Table. We spend most of our time playing there or nibbling on something at the restaurant.

Our flight to Muscat, was in the evening at 8 pm or so (I think it was the East-West Airlines). We boarded the flight quite sure that it would too bring us back to Kuwait. But it dint. No announcements, no crash landings.

From Muscat, the next flight to Trivandrum was scheduled close to 2 am. That too seemed to fly alright. I remember it was early morning and was raining, when I first caught a glimpse of Kerala from inside the flight. It was the 30th of July. 2 days since we first boarded our flight from Kuwait.

That was an awesome sight. The rivers over flowing with muddy waters, the rain that drizzled by, the coconut trees, the red tiles of houses... everything seemed the same... the way we remembered seeing it a year ago.

We knew there was no going back now. But we still hoped we will be back in Kuwait soon.

Little did we know then that we would live in Kerala for 13 years (before shifting to Chennai), graduate there, have our first crushes, get our first jobs, count our first salaries, see our sister get married and have a kid, lose our dad and much much more... in Kerala.

We would know what "Life" meant.

Life, different from what we had seen and been familiar with, while in Kuwait.

We never realized then, that we were finally home.

In God's own country.

Kerala!