From the dust I rise
To the dust I return
In an inconsequential flight
I rise and I burn.
The love, the hate, the humanity
All perish therein,
The rusting body ends my travellers’ joy
Annihilating the very proof of me.
My father’s friend
For me a complete stranger.
A 19 something girl
Docile but not fragile,
A smart intelligent girl
Who was just beginning to rise.
Staying in an urban city
Away from her parents and family,
She was inching towards her dream
Wanting her achievements to scream.
One wintry day, she caught a fever
Nothing much, may be just cough and cold,
A week went by and she lost consciousness
Her family flew to her in all concomitance.
A few days in the hospital
And al fell well,
She came back with a little wiggle
To spend some time with family and friends; just like a Belle.
A one moth went by
Laughing and living,
And she was preparing to bid god by
Giving slightest thought towards existing.
But wait what________
Hospitals and ambulances and doctors and nurses?
Blood freezing in the brains?
But, wait what_________
Coma, you say?
Mind not working
But the heart beating?
But, wait what________
The heartbeat stopped?
The body fell rigid
And_______ The End!
The father shocked
The brother denies
_____She simply cried.
Words and consolations are provided
But how could it ever work?
Pity and tears were shared
But the family from inside- was broke.
I didn’t realize
Why did it affect me so much?
I had never even met the person
Then why did I lose myself and cry?
It bothered me so much
It shook me so much,
I hid myself and cried
I didn’t know how her folks even tried.
But the cliché says- the show must go on
But they say- a woman is too sentimental,
But they say_ we draw others troubles and make them their own
Why do you want to mend yourself when the
Wound is not your own.
And so I smile
I gather myself and I go to work,
Doing about everything without a murk
But adding to my heart yet another mark of vile.
But the wounds is not my own
So I must be left with a little brawn,
And so I begin again to walk the paths of unknown
Welcoming what He next throws from His throne.
And because, it was
My fathers’ friends,
His brother, whose daughter
For me a complete stranger.
I am just a little shaken
And I know I will reawaken,
I just cannot begin to think
Of the horrendous gloom on them befallen.
But since it’s not my wound
What have I to lose_____
She, to me was a complete stranger
But I hope for her to be her own avenger.
This NAPOWRIMO thing, great so far, I mean to say I am enjoying it. But there is something I have to say now. More like get it out because I can’t keep it in anymore, and also I think if I get it out and share with everyone else, I might as well take things seriously. So last November, I don’t know what happened and I started writing poetry, just for the sake of writing them and many of them still remain unpublished. But Come Jan, I decided that I will try and write one poetry every single day and may be after a few months I will have something I will want to publish, more like I will try to publish. So far, I have stuck with the resolution, of course poetry doesn’t flow every day, but still have stuck with the plan, going against it only occasionally. I really, really want to publish something I write, I don’t care if it’s published by a publishing house or it is self published, but I want that to happen. As I say this now, here, only to make myself more committed towards this, so that I start taking it more seriously. nothing else.
So far, the poetries that involved the Napowrimo, (Except this one) were meant for my book, so if you have read them you can tell me if at all it could ‘EVER’ amount to anything.
In true anticipation of your reviews!!
And please be as much critical as you can be. I will work on whatever is wrong with my work, or me 😉
2018 has not been very compatible to me yet, I guess it doesn’t feel good with me, or it just doesn’t want to make me feel good. Any which ways, I am tortured. 3 months and 3 deaths!! How is that possible? How am I supposed to even live with it? You will say, I have to and I will but it doesn’t at all feel good. None of them were close family members but all of the three people were relatives, one being a friend a distant one, a junior school-mate and yet I do not feel good about it. I feel sad.
Having received death news is never good news, of course it never is but then when you hear about a person’s death that was your age, your friend, you do not know what to do. It cripples your heart.
This friend I am talking about wasn’t my best friend, so I cannot say I am dying inside to hear this, but he was a kind person, a sweet person. I knew his family very well, his sister, his mother, even his dad. All of them are such lovely souls, and yet, I ask, do they really deserve this? Do they deserve the death of a young son, a young and a happy-go-lucky brother? Does that young boy deserve death? I repeat, young, again and again, only to emphasise, the fact that a mere 20 something person died, all of a sudden, leaving behind all his loved ones, shattered and broken.
I feel so depressed, writing about it, even thinking about it, that I cannot even begin to think how and what his family might be going through. I, really cannot say that I understand their pain, no I cannot, and can never until I go through such a loss.
This brings me to a thought, again and again and again. What if something so traumatic happens with me or my family? What if, I have to go through something so disturbing and painful? What will I do? I am losing it completely now, how would I handle anything beyond this?
Death is unpredictable, absolutely uncertain, then how can anyone live with this uncertainty?
And yet, we have to. We have no other alternative. Do we?
They say; time heals everything. But does it? Or does it simply makes you immune, and gives you the patience to live with it?
The selfish human that I am, I am making it all about me, again. I am forgetting, rambling about my agony here, that this, what I am going through now, is simply nothing. It is ‘just’ a fear of losing someone, and the pain of losing a friend, an acquaintance, and in no case it can be compared to what his family might be going through now. I am truly sorry for him and his family. Whatever I write and say here, can in no possible way express what I am feeling right now. I can in no amount of synonyms and adjectives express my feelings. I am so deeply touched that it can be expressed with nothing, with no words.
I cannot even begin to think what his loved ones might be going through now, and honestly I do not have the courage to, too.
William Shakespeare once said, “Death once dead, there’s no more dying then.”
So is it okay, that he is dead? His pain is over, right? But what about the people that he left behind? I ask this here, because, there is a possibility that he committed suicide. I cannot say for sure, we have just heard it. Some said, it was a road accident, and yet others who lived with him have to say that he committed suicide. We don’t know, and we might never know. But does the reason matter?
According to Shakespeare, after death, there is no pain, but I guess there is. There definitely is.
I am sorry. I guess I have said enough, only to feel more vulnerable. Today, all I can think about is death, and its consequences. This truly is not making me feel good. (I know I must have repeated this several times, but I honestly don’t feel good.)
To end this post on a cliché dialogue from a full time Bollywood movie (Boss)
Ronit Roy says-“ maut ko to yuhin log badnam karte hai.. asli takleef to zindagi deti hain.”
“People defame death, but true pain and suffering comes from life.” (Okay, I know the English translation might not be that effective.)
And I think, today, I do agree with this dialogue, doesn’t suffering come from life? Once you are dead, you are simply dead. But when you are alive, you are alive, alive with that excruciating pain. And you can do nothing about it.
I am in no position to judge anything here, nor do I want to. But I desperately feel bad for this friend of mine. We may have lost touch, but this news came as a shock.
In a flick, he just passed away, and left behind grief and misery for everyone who knew him.
From the bottom of my heart, I pray that no single person has to go through with the kind of pain that he might have gone through, and that his family must be going through. May all of them find the strength that they truly need in this crucial hour.
And may his kind soul rest in peace.
Warning: I might end up discussing the story of the book too.
I was reading, so that I could kill my time, I was reading so that I could have a Sunday on a Monday, I was reading so that I could find out what actually happens to Anna, what about Kate? Will she live? Will she die? How is the family going to take it? How will Sara react when she finds out that her own daughter files a case against her and her husband, Brian? What is wrong with Jesse, their oldest son? What kind of chemistry do Campbell and Julia share, and what exactly is Judge, the dog for?
My sister’s keeper by Jodi Picoult has all the answers to it, and I was on the verge of finding them. Hardly did I know that by then I will be left shattered, once again. I really have lost count how many times a simple book has done that to me by now.
Devouring the last few pages of the book, digging my nails into the covers of the book, I realised that I was almost crying, at least on the verge of. I was battling hard to even breathe by now.
I mean, what, how, when, why???
It is then, that I realised that we have absolutely no control of our lives, we may think, we have, but no, we do not have even a grasp over it. I felt like a mere puppet playing the so called game, life.
We think we can control our lives, but all we have is a most shallow form of control, a simple interpretation of life, when in reality it is far more intense with lot many twists and turns which we can never in our rarest dreams anticipate.
Kate was the one suffering with some sort of cancer, Anna was the once conceived to donate her organs to her sister, then how come this end to a story?
The book is simply about Anna fighting for herself, but in the end what happens is really what I did not expect.
I kept the book aside, pages fluttering with the air, the ceiling fan really creaking down on me, and there I slept with the small lamp switched on, for the lightest hope to cling on to.
She was an old lady and considered her life to be content with life with children, grandchildren, and even great grandchildren. She had lived happily until her last few days which had been too torturing and too painful for her old soul. Doctors had reported only 24% of her heart to be working and one of her kidney’s had been dysfunctional too. Constantly being shifted from CCU to ICU and back and forth, we had lost all our hopes; but she hadn’t.
There was this big religious event in our city which was long awaited for. Basically the ‘Dhwaja’ i.e. the flag which is hoisted in the temple of ‘Shrinath ji’ was to be brought to our city. This auspicious moment is too rare and is considered very pious. Well, I don’t know much about it so coming straight to the point, this dear old lady wanted to witness this propitious moment.
“The second I see the ‘dhwaja’ take me, my lord. Just let me see it once.” This was kind of her last wish. Every single person in her family wanted it to happen, everyone wanted her to stay, at least to be the spectator of this great event.
Ironically enough the moment the flag reached our city she breathed her last. Her dear wish was in the same city and she could not see it.
Her last wish remained unsatisfied or will she find peace in His abode. Her faith was so strong that even we thought that she’d live to see the Holy figure. Unfortunately, not. I for a matter think that it was good that she was relieved of this terrible pain that her body was for almost 10 days and more.
I am no one to comment here on anything. It’s just that I have heard too much about this dear lady and ‘her last wish’ in the past few days and couldn’t help but pour out my mind here. And as for this flag thing- for me it was just materialistic, the true God, the true faith resides in you, in your heart. Do your Karma and leave everything else on the destiny. Everything can never be in our control so why even try it. I hope she finds content above the glimpse of the materialistic ‘dhwaja.’