Something's Staring...

Something is staring at you right in your face... How do you escape the unflinching glance? How do you pretend there's nobody? How do you go about your daily routine when you know no matter where you go or what you do there is always going to be this shadow of an issue following you around?

It's a problem that has a way of complicating itself more when tried to be solved. It's a disease that would not kill but would accompany you to the grave. It's a wound, starting to heal but gone bad due to frequent scratching. It's like a nightmare that has not ceased to exist even after the eyes are wide open and you have woken up from your sleep. It's like your past, never prominent enough to be worried about, but always holding you back from living your present to the fullest.

Let's Live!

If we always had what we wished for we would pretty soon get bored of wishing! It’s good that disappointment is a part of life. With disappointment there’s hope, hope for the fulfillment of it the next time around. And that’s what keeps us going… going through one more day of sunshine or rain… of laughter or pain. It’s true the heartaches become too real to bear sometimes. But, we must remember that in those moments we can feel truly alive. Life makes its presence felt more strongly. Even our heartbeat is audible to us!

It’s an amazing life! The fact that with pain we feel closer to living and more distant to it with joy is a strange irony. And since nothing is forever, every moment leaves an impression that stays in our mind though the moment is lost. Life is a story of all these moments and a memory that they form. So, let’s weave these moments into a life. Let’s live!

Happy Birthday, Mom!

I remember your laughter, how you’d smile mischievously and then the smile would broaden and then burst into peels of laughter. I remember your quietness, how you’d go so far away in your thoughts with a lost look in your eyes. I never knew what you thought of or what you saw in your visions, I was just glad to see a silent reassurance in your smile when I called out for you.

I remember your anger, how you’d all of a sudden go so silent on me. No word spoken or any frustrations shown just complete silence even when serving out the dinner to me. I remember your disappointments, how you’d try to still be a part of my changing life which had somehow outgrown your need in everything. You would still be there, telling me about your day and hoping I share about mine but be left disappointed every other time.

I remember your strength, how you would without a trace of worry in your face go about things bravely even in the most vulnerable times. I never knew it until the day I was a witness to it. You must be glad to know perhaps how much of that strength sister has imbibed from you. There is so much of you in her. She's making you and all of us proud.

I remember your fear, how you held onto me once and told me how afraid you were of what would happen to you. I was ill-prepared to react. That was the first time I realized you were not as strong as you’d show to us. I was scared to know that here was someone whose mere presence drove all my nightmares away and even she had fears. It was one of those rare moments when I came to realize that you were after all human with all the emotions and feelings a human could feel. It was one of those days when I realized that you too needed to be held, to be heard, to be seen, to be hugged, to be pampered, to be spoiled and to be sometimes chided and teased as well.

I hope and pray, god is pampering and spoiling you up there, as we silently celebrate your birthday today, in our own quiet ways, the way you lived your life. Don’t be sad or worry if you see us missing you once in a while. We need those moments to feel your presence in our lives. Even though we know you’d always be there with your arms around our shoulders, guiding us and letting us know we will be fine.

I Was Born

9 March, 4:02 am
I was born exactly at this time, nearly three decades ago, in a small village in Manipur. Mom had not been keeping well for few months and was weak during my birth. Maibi (or dais - traditional birth attendants/midwives) was being sent for when she went into labour. But before her arrival I popped out of my mother's womb surrounded by anxious relatives. The house was humble and with too many people living in it, my mother was moved to a makeshift room during the later stage of her pregnancy. The verandah to the right side of the house, a shelter for people to sit in during festivities and/or ceremonies, was converted into an extra room with kitchen for mom's convenience.

It was Holi. The town would soon be seen reveling in the festivities. But there was double the reason for celebration in our house. Father, who was with the army, was promptly informed of my birth. He was posted in Jammu and Kashmir at that time. When the news reached him, he was out collecting snow for boiling drinking water. He says he threw the container away and ran like a madman to receive the call.

I am the only one who was born in my hometown in a remote village, Sugnu. So, besides my mother's milk I was fed on chabon - a starchy liquid formed during the process of cooking rice in a pot. When the water begins to dry, the starchy liquid is collected from the top and after adding a pinch of salt it is fed to the baby. It was a poor man's cerelac! My brother and sister would sometimes gang up on me saying I am a lawai macha (a gawar or dehati - a village bumpkin) while they were born in cities and grew up on cerelac! The teasing bit was also because I could not speak my mother tongue - Manipuri properly. It was more crude and rustic. It's another thing I still can't!

Despite our different circumstances and the different environment we were born in , we have somehow managed to turn out good. And despite leaving our hometowns for studies then work, staying together then separately, we are still connected.

And as today I think of where life has brought me and how much it has shaped and moulded me through the years, I find myself celebrating my birth with these two wonderful beings I call family.

With our celebrations I rejoice and remember and miss the person who gave life to us, knowing somehow that a corner of the Heaven must be celebrating with us too...

Learning To Let Go, Learning To Live

What do we do when we know our lives are not what it was suppose to be? But what exactly are our lives suppose to be? For a fact, we know that this or that is what we want to be doing or what we want to achieve… a good job, a great house, a car, nice little family, etc… etc… How do we define the lives that we are supposed to be living? Is there a picture or an image of how everything, every little detail of our lives, would be pieced together? Can there be a moment or a series of moments where we can feel and see and experience the lives that we know we want to be living? Is there even something called a life we are supposed to be living? Isn’t all these only a figment of our imagination, our dreams, our hopes, our perspectives, our ideals of how things should be?

I guess the whole idea is to let go of the ‘idea’ itself… of letting go of trying to control everything in our lives, and start appreciating them for what they are… even when they are lost, being thankful for their presence however short their stay might have been, then letting go… moving on… with no excess baggage… how on earth do you expect to take another step forward if you haven’t even lifted your foot from where it was before on the ground? You need to lift it up, completely, to be able to move on and continue…

To just give in to what you feel at the moment… we plan, we think, we envision… but the best moments are those where we just surrender to them, and live them…

Rules may be important, but when it comes to a life… remember there is nothing better than having no rules at all… life can never be closed… it’s open… give it the freedom it needs… let it be free… and then perhaps you will see, you are no longer tied up anymore yourself…

The Cherry Blossom - Short Story

A narrow lane to the right from the main road leads straight to his house. On the other side of the road opposite the lane stands an old Cherry Blossom tree. Sipping on a warm cup of tea, watching the sun rise on a cold winter day from his balcony, he could not help but marvel at its pink blossoms. He silently greeted the old friend who had grown so much since the last time he saw it. He knew it would be thinking the same thing about him. Seven years is a long time. He was now standing on the same land he once called his home, only difference was that it was a house newly constructed. He was happy to be where he was but his mind was restless.

Silently he conversed with the Cherry Blossom tree. They talked about the early days of their lives. He laughed as Cherry recollected how he would run with his school bag all the way home from the road, then come out to play without changing his clothes, his mother shouting at him to change his clothes from behind. Cherry further added how he would always be with his mother all the time, going for evening shopping for groceries with her and helping her carry it home. 'You were always the good son'. He sighed, 'I was' and emptied his cup of tea. He went in, kept the cup on the table and wrapped himself in a shawl. Cherry laughed saying that he had become weak now, needing protection from a little cold wind which never bothered him earlier. He smiled.

'Daddy!' a young boy of four came running towards him.

'Good Morning, dear! Is your mom up as well?'
'Yes, daddy.'

'Pradeep, come and brush your teeth and mom will make breakfast for you,' a young woman in her late 20s entered the room. Pradeep moved himself close to his daddy saying he would do it later. But he told him to go down with mom so that he could get ready and go shopping after breakfast. Pradeep hurried along excitedly with his mother.

Cherry looked pleasantly surprised by what he saw and heard. He told him that he had married the same year he left the town, with his college sweetheart. 'You mean Kusum? Cherry exclaimed! He nodded saying they were both working at the same place and so after a few months decided to get married. Pradeep was born the following year. He is adorable! Ya, he is. They were silent for a while.

He was trying hard not to remember the circumstances in which he had left the town. But in vain. Soon the past flashed before him in quick succession. The news of the accident. The funeral procession of both his parents. Relatives coaxing him to give them the charge of the property. His fights and arguments with them in the middle of his final exams. His crying over his loss and his loneliness, being the only child. Cherry saw his young friend's eyes watering up and said 'You have turned out quite well kid. They must be really proud of you.' Wiping off the tears, he looked up and smiled.

After his exams, he had taken up a part-time job with a magazine and later worked as a permanent staff for the same in Delhi. He had rented out two rooms in the house to manage his expenses since he did not want to touch the emergency funds his parents had left in his name. Two persons stood by him through it all, his eldest uncle and Kusum. Defying conventions she had stayed in his house for a month after the accident, even at the cost of constant arguments from her family. With time things took a better turn when they realised the two of them were serious about each other. After the result was out he was offered a permanent post for the same magazine but he would have to move to Delhi, the main office. He took up the post and left the house under the care of his uncle. Kusum decided to join him and applied at the same magazine. She was a topper and could have got a fine job in a much bigger company. So, it was no wonder that she was selected.

They soon settled down in Delhi. Work kept him busy enough to worry about anything else and having Kusum by his side helped a great deal. By November they had married in a temple, in a small ceremony attended by his uncle and Kusum's parents. With time they had build a support system of few good friends. A new family. A new life. The birth of Pradeep seemed to complete their world. However, it was not home as they knew it. Kusum knew he missed his home, the world where he came from even though he never showed any signs of discontentment. She could see it in his eyes, in moments when he would be lost in his memories. Signs only someone who knew him well like she did could see. One day she told him that they could start renovating the place with their savings and be home again. He was surprised and brushed aside the idea stating it would be difficult to start all over again since they have already settled well in Delhi. Kusum didn't give up easily and came out with plans to re-do the house, having a nice little balcony to see the sunrise in the morning, a colourful room for Pradeep and what not. Finally he gave in. Soon they involved his uncle and work was underway to reconstruct the house. After two years, they were now finally home.

As the sun shone brilliantly behind the Cherry Blossom, he knew he would have to end the conversation soon. The streets were no longer empty and soon it would be echoing the footsteps and laughter of school children, gossips and chats of the young and the old. He thanked Cherry with all his heart for sharing his life with him and hoped that he would continue to watch over the house which now builds a new home! Cherry smiled, shedding his pink blossoms.

Faking Life!

"I am looking at you and though it speaks nothing good about you, it does make me feel good that I can at least see clearly the lines time is drawing so generously on your brows. It's depressing to see the sorry state of affairs you are in. What a mess you have made out of your life. You must envy me, don't you? Still looking good and still popular. I bet you wish you had a life like mine! In your dreams, buddy! In your dreams!"

So, spoke a man one late morning, looking at the image of a man approaching his thirties in the mirror. It wasn't denial to him. It was his best defense mechanism against feeling pity or regret or guilt. What would acceptance reveal to him? There was too much hidden behind those eyes that had seen so much already. All the wrong choices would surface. All that was lost would come calling for few more tears from him and heart full of regrets would follow.All the dreams followed halfheartedly would complain of his lack of perseverance and faith in them. He knew he was more pitiable than those who lived life without making any attempts to hide their miseries. At least they were honest. He didn't have the courage to either accept his mistakes and take responsibility or face the consequences. However, feigning ignorance to it all added another day of hope to his life. It gave him the strength to live on and face the world again. It was the only way he had learned to survive. It was his only chance of starting anew, with a clean slate.

Confident and assured he would step out of his house. Long strides and a smile on his face. But a sinking feeling would occasionally make him go weak in the knees. He knew it was all a facade to cover up a meaningless existence he lead in the name of life.