Shattering the Dreams

I...
Was the one
Who brought down the hammer
That plundered all my dreams.
My Dreams...
They were an anomaly
A world apart
From what the World
Expected,
Demanded!
And so, I shattered them.
One by One,
I shattered them.
I shattered them,
Till each and every
Tiny hope became a shard.
And then kept at it
Till every shard
Was speckled with the blood
Of my Desires
Of my Laughter.
I shattered them,
Until nothing remained
But Ruins that evoked
Immeasurable pain and fear.
Pain and fear
Such that I would never
Dare to Dream again.
And there would never be
Any Dream to shatter ever again.

A Tribute to my Daddiji

Yesterday... At midnight, I shut the door to the room and let opened the one where I keep all my pain hidden. I let lose the storm churning inside me. I cried, I sobbed, I simpered, I bawled my eyes out. I broke down the same way I had when you had left me alone two years back. I felt the loneliness wash back yet again. And I tried to reconcile with it. I don't think I did though.

Today... I pretended. I laughed, I worked, I ate, I read... I procrastinated. Putting off this communication once again. Because I know what I want to say is too potent to come out right. What I want to say is so huge that I don't have the words to express it. But I am gonna give it my best shot because that is what you always asked of me, Daddiji.

Everyday... I miss you. I miss the sound of your full bodied laughter. The one that you gave in to so often. Things that we looked over, never paid mind to, you used to find joy in them and let your laugh express and share those joys. I don't remember a time when I did not inadvertently give in to the urge to at the least smile upon hearing your laugh. I don't smile that much now. Almost never about silly little joyful things. I don't notice them. Not without you.

Everyday... I miss your booming voice. The voice of the wisest man I have known infused with the enthusiasm of a child. I miss how you used to wait for my return from school so that you can say, "What brilliant English they use in Economic Times. Lao, bhaiya, zarra paper leke aao. Dikhaye tumko." You used to keep aside the page you wished to show me - a para, a headline or a phrase that had struck your fancy and you wished to share with me. Nobody does that for me anymore. Nobody shares that joy with me. Not since you.

Every morning that... I come down those curved stairs at our home, beneath which was your study desk, I miss our game of gushing out, "Good Morning, Daddiji! How are you?" You taught me these little nuggets of behaviour that enchant people around me these days. The use of simple greetings and courtesies. And I miss using them with you. I wish, I beg, I pray to get a reply juts once in your voice gushing out equally fast, "Fine! Fine! How are you?" I am not fine. Not without you.

You used to lend me your ear and your wisdom without complaint. In some ways you have made me wise beyond my years but never at the cost of my childhood. If anything you made my childhood a fun-filled discovery. I remember a cut out - a coloured photo of the then Britannia CEO, his hair half black and half white with 'Black and White' captioned in bold. I remember your favourite saying. It was by A.B.Vajpayee and you improved on it made it your own. You used to say it every so often, "My house is my Hospital, my Hotel and it is my Home." I remember the first English word you taught me. "Thirsty". I get the meaning of it now more than ever. Because you are not here.

You treated me an equal. We were both children and adults. On or the other at different times. But always in sync with each other. Remember, how you used to pretend in front of everyone that you are scared of me when it comes to sneaking food you are not supposed to eat. And remember, the moment Mom used to go out of kitchen after serving dinner, you used to point at ketchup and pickles and I used to give in and sneak you some. 

Remember watching all those Raj Kapoor movies together in 2000 when they used to air it on Sony. And the time when we went to Mughal-e-Azam after it was released in colour. You translated all those Urdu words for me.

Remember talking about politics and partition. The tales of your birthtown Bannu. Remember talking about Indian cinema, the golden ages. Remember how we used to talk about anything and everything under the sun.

Remember how on every birthday I used to rush down, accost you and demand you give me you Blessing. I remember that expressing emotions never came easy to you but ever so gently you used to place your hand on my head and say, "My Blessings." and then pat my back. Those were the best presents.

 Remember you used to hand over your entire Diwali bonus to me. To me. And just that gesture made Diwali so much special to me... And then you demanded your grand send-off and abandoned me on Diwali itself. Diwali has never been a celebration since then. I doubt it ever will be.

Today is the second anniversary of losing you. And I have not healed. If anything I hurt more each day. I wish your presence, your guidance, your love, your wisdom a little bit more some day. Sometimes I wish you'd haunt my dreams. Sometimes I wish to hear a whisper of your voice in my ears. And each day I grow up a little bit knowing it won't happen. Ever.

They say time heals. Liars! If you love someone truly, you never get over missing them. Nobody can replace them. They leave their imprints and nothing and nobody can erase them. I cannot stop loving you and I cannot stop missing you.  Never.

But, don't you worry. I know you are still here. In all these memories, in all those Blessings. And I know in each and every cell, every pore of my being that I am loved, cherished and watched over by you. I know that you were, are and always will be my Guardian Angel.

I miss you Daddiji!






 

Your Friendship Remains

Of Flowers and Friendship
And the glow they bestow
These blooms may wither 
But your friendship remains.

Through thunderstorms and showers
Scary nights and sunny days
Days, years, even eternities may vary
But your friendship remains.

Your friendship remains
The strength of my convictions.
The power behind my will.
Always the voice compelling me
Never letting me stay 
Nor letting me quit.

Your friendship remains
The reason that keeps my faith intact.
The unseen force behind me 
Always on guard,  keeping me safe.
Stealing my sorrows
Borrowing my pain.

Your friendship remains
For me 
Through thick and thin
And You
My very own angel
Not just guiding me
But holding together
The frayed ends of the rope
Waiting patiently for me to cross over
Every broken and burnt bridge.

And You 
Become my safety net
Everytime I take that leap of faith
And everytime I am drowning
Sometimes, plunging into the dark abyss
You jump right in and pull me back
From those depths of despair,
With the magic you weave
in that one silent whisper that says:
"I am always here. My friendship remains."

 
 

Hold You Prisoner II

I pace inside my cage

And my distress

Makes you pace outside

But it means nothing to me

Anymore.

I rescued you

Taught you love

Fought for you

When you had lost

I made you 

What you are today

And you in turn

Made me what I am

Even now I look at you

Helpless and part ashamed,

Your eyes begging me

For reassurance.

I give it to you

Sort of.

My tears I won't waste

On you

Instead a benign smile 

Plays at my lips

I see the doubt dawn on you

The Fear claw at your heart

You don't get it

You never will

That I smile because

You needed a cage 

To imprison me

But I, I hold you prisoner

With my smile Alone,

And guess what?

My smile says it all.

Hold You Prisoner I

There was something mystical about her.

So Magical.

Her aura was so pure.

So pleasing to touch.

She was mine.

My lady in shining armour.

She slayed the demons and dragons that haunted me.

She slayed them even in my nightmares.

She was the one who turned my nightmares

Into Dreams.

I never wanted to let her go.

Her mysticism. Her magic.

She was the enchantress.

And I, I was enchanted.

I will never let her go

And so,

I started building a cage.

A cage around her.

A cage to ground her.

A cage of gold

And diamonds.

Glued together by

Seeds of self-doubt 

That I painstakingly planted 

In her mind.

Tear Drop

Today, it was the wind

That was your messenger

I put my hand

Out the window

And it sieved through

Frolicking around your ring

Then a moment approached

When subtly; very vaguely, it

Squeezed my hand and let go

A gentle reminder really

Of your being there

I closed my eyes

And inhaled your presence

And very gently the wind,

You, caressed my cheek

Whispering sweet nothings 

Into my ears.

For a second forces met

Forces changed

And with the gale

You were gone yet again

Leaving me alone once more

But not bereft

A smile formed on my lips

A slightly sceptic one,

But a smile nonetheless.

A smile that still believed

Believed that you exist.

Now, I raise my face

To the sky

And meet you

Eye to eye,

I open my arms for you

And you rain all over me

Your first drop

Meets my first tear

And that is how

We commune and cry...

Writings in Blood

I turned back the pages,
And was left aghast
By the pain that was wrought
All over the pristine paper.


Was that blood mine? 
That which dripped onto this page
Through the nib of my pen.
Or of those who are mine? 


These words that scream
The hidden truths,
The loss, the agony.
Is this voice my own,
Or of those who are mine?


These histories,
They are not golden.
They glow with the red 
Of hysteria, of Hell.


And my poor soul writhes
When I turn back the pages
Repeatedly, I churn my poor soul
In the black shadows
Of angst, of denial, of abuse.


The angst, the denial, the abuse
That even I know not -
Are mine 
Or of those who are mine.