Tag Archives: family

I’ll Be A Good Girl….

Ah! This is such a wonderful sight

Away from all heinous plight.

Amidst the bed of roses

Smelling the smell of happy doses.

 

The two girls playing

Dancing and swaying,

Happy, serene

Jovial and green.

 

I love to see them

I also want to be them,

Playing with my brothers and sister

Oh, won’t I have a brother or a sister?

 

Or, do I have someone

Already waiting for me?

A daughter or a son

Already your honeybee?

 

I will be a good girl

To you, to everyone,

Like an obedient schoolgirl

With a sweet tongue.

 

I will play and eat

Will be your only heartbeat,

I will dance and learn

And shine like a Christmas fern.

 

I want to see you

See my father,

I want to be you

Given away at age, by my father.

 

I want to live life

I want to have friends

I want to thrive

I want to go through life’s all bends.

 

But I understand

All in good time,

For now I need to be in this dreamland

Your womb being my partner in crime.

 

But it is getting dark

And I am feeling cold,

I’ll complain to grandma

Please return to our home.

 

You understand me so well

I just thought and you already did,

Walking gracefully like a belle

You succumbed to your beautiful kid.

 

But wait are you sure this is the way, mamma?

And why are you burning like a sauna?

But again who am I to judge?

3 months old, who knows not much?

 

But where is this mamma?

This is not our home.

I don’t see your comfy pajama

This is not where you roam.

 

Why are you lying in this small, rigid bed?

You need to be comfortable instead.

Who are these people in white?

Why are they shining the light so bright?

 

See, this is already hurting

You and me too.

You are twisting and squirting

They are letting the pain brew.

 

What is this?

What is happening?

What are they doing?

Why are you crying?

 

It is paining me too

Piercing me through and through,

I want to live and you are so cruel

You killed me, and my dreams accrual.

 

God!

Forbid!

Stop!

Have pity on me!

 

They are cutting me

My tiny legs and hands,

I want to flee

But the pain is killing me.

 

You killed me, mamma

How could you do this?

I am speechless

I am breathless.

 

You killed me for I was a girl

Is it so big a sin?

Then why was I called a pearl

If I was merely a skim?

 

If this world is such

Where you kill your own blood?

Then I am happy to have lived an innocent life

Without a sinful crime.

 

I have a question before I go

How does it feel to make your own kid a foe?

I know this may not be only your wish

For I have heard the constant surrounding whish.

 

But all the same I die

Without an answer for ‘why’,

I bid you adieu

And may girls never come to this life,

If everyone is like you.

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This will be the last post for #NaPoWriMo. Somehow I ended up writing this last poem imitating the very first thing I ever wrote, like the very first time I put pen to paper, and though novice it’s always been close to my heart. I am attaching the link to the post, for I am certain I shared it in my blog at some point of time.

Were you not a girl, Mamma?

Also, my heartiest thanks for all you readers for sticking through the entire month of April, for your amazing and honest reviews, and for constantly just showering love on me and my immature poems. THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!

 

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A Dormant Warriors’ Wound.

My father’s friend

His brother,

Whose daughter

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?

Paralytic attacks?

 

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

Her mother

_____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.

 

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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 😉

One Big Happy Family #3

Hey guys, anyone remember my happy ever after? That one big family I was so proud of? That little X whom I loved making jealous? That family where there was no trouble?

Well, as it happens that ‘One big family’ they are in trouble, because there is a new villain 😩

The moment I leave them, they get themselves into some trouble. Can someone not survive without me for even a week???

Oh God!!

Anyways, I am out of my city, away from the only happy ever after I have and they are in big trouble. And when I say big trouble, I mean it. Because only then would Mr and Mrs would have sent me the picture of new Mr Z.  And boy, is he dangerous!!!

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This Mr Z, I don’t like him and he is after my favourite ‘one big happy family’.

I think I need to get home soon now. As I have already told,  I cannot let anyone ruin my happy ever after.

PS: Hoping someone would go take care of my happy ever after till I return!! A big Sigh!!!

Here is the link to my big family’s introduction- https://aestheticmiradh.com/2018/02/24/one-big-happy-family/

Just Like Me!

My niece just spent a good long week at my place and it was nothing but wonderful. (The same niece who presented me a little souvenir when I was at her place) Yes, there were times when I was losing it completely trying to keep a nine year old occupied and entertained all day long but I never took it out on her. Well, I tried my best, as best as I could despite not being a fan of the kids. (In my defence, I don’t hate them either.)

But this kid, is really special to me, has always been. I have never met a kid like her. You will see what I mean.

When she was here, I could not help but notice that what my brother and his wife used to tell me was nothing short of true, “She is just like you.” Earlier, when they used to tell me this, I tried ignoring the fact assuming it as their fondness for me. (Yeah, I know I give myself too much of importance 😉 )
But the more I stayed with her, I realised that they weren’t kidding. She is precisely, unerringly like me.

And you know what my first thought used to be? “Oh, my!!! Another mess like me? What is to happen of her?”

She brought the exact replica of my childhood in front of me. It was as if I was looking at a flashback in mirror, only she was a little more cuter and sweeter and the adjectives can go on.

She loves all the same things which I used to love; she reacts the very same way that I used to do. She is fond of colours, loves to sing despite the fact that we are no singers, her tantrums, her habits, her behaviour, the list goes on.

I use ‘Used to” for myself above, because reality hit me hard a few years back and it changed me. Well, it wasn’t a shock to me, because I had been dealing with it for years, only I did not want to accept it. But then I question again and again what will happen of this lovely kid?

I don’t want her to turn like me. I know reality cannot be overlooked or evaded and one day even she will have to grow out of the fantasy land. But, only I don’t want her to be troubled and moved like me.

I use ‘like me’ a lot today which reminds me what I am like. “I am just like her” which again I don’t want to be. So if I am like her and my niece is like me, it is like the genes are flowing down and we will keep creating messes like us. (We should just stop marrying, you know 😉 )

Coming back to my niece, I knew she would grow beyond her age, considering our long known family drama, and the fact that no one cares in our family to keep the kids away from the things which they needn’t know. But I did not see that coming so soon. This was precisely the reason why she was at our place; to avoid the family scenes.

But I don’t think that made any difference.

I know for a fact that when her mother is not around she takes care of her younger brother. She does small things like bringing him food, asking him if he wants milk, looking after his homework- as if she were a teacher. She doesn’t do all of this to enact a mother or a teacher, which most other children would do at her age, she does all of it because she cares, because she knows that she needs to do it. I know it, I know this because I have seen her performing the caring one, I know this because I have done it myself.

So when she came to my place I was happy and relieved that at least she would avoid a little of the drama and could have a week of saneness and being a carefree child.

But something happened after she left, which is still boggling my mind.

This is what happened and this is the reason why I say that I have never met a kid like her.

Her parents did not have the time to come pick her up, neither were we free to go and drop her at her place which would require at least a day’s break. So her father asked her to send her with an uncle that we know and was travelling the same way. I don’t exactly know what is the right age for a kid to be left alone at home; or to let her travel alone for a journey of four hours? But it just doesn’t feel right for a nine year old to be left alone. Though I do remember very well being left alone at home, and so is she left alone most of the times.

So we all thought that she left with the so called uncle and reached safe home, when she called me from home in the night.

I kept checking on her while she was travelling and so did her father.

(Since she has a phone which her dad gave her only since she was alone here. We weren’t supportive of it at all, but since she had it only for the time being, we thought it was okay.)

But today, we got to know the real story, the story that she wasn’t giving away yesterday, the story which was kept from everyone but her father.

In the midst of the four hour journey the said ‘Uncle’ needed to buy a pack of cookies on a railway station for which he got down alone….

And yes, if you were guessing, you might have guessed it right; because he did miss the train leaving that poor little child alone.

After the train moved the panic must have begun in her, but before anything happened her dad called her and warned her off any kind of people. (I cannot begin to think what her state of mind would have been then)

She was left alone for two hours in a journey; she kept playing games, and talking to her father, her mother and me. But she didn’t give away anything. I called her like four times but all she said was I am playing and I will call you as soon as I reach.

Her father reached the station even before the train would arrive and picked her up. Only then must have he breathed a sigh of relief, I am pretty sure about that. But apart from those two people no one new anything.

When they reached home her mother was briefed about what happened, and she scolded her for not telling her anything. My niece’s reply broke my heart-

“Mom, I know you have high diabetes and blood pressure and if I would have told you this then you would have got tensed and then you might have fallen sick, I know you already have a lot of problems going on so I didn’t tell you!”

And when I got to know this, I asked her too, why didn’t you tell me?

And she retorted, “I know you’d have done the same thing. And I am just like you!”

And this broke me completely.

Here, I was trying to keep her away from everything, but I just didn’t realise that she was already captivated in all of it. She was already beyond her years.

I know most people would say that these kinds of experiences make you strong, bold and practical; they give you the strength to deal with life. They sure do, but most importantly you lose a lot too in all of this. It sure makes us strong and resilient, but it also, makes you too practical and feeling-less. By the time you grow up you are hollow inside, and all that is left is a concrete body. You are referred to as pessimistic, gloomy and heartless.

But the fact is we aren’t heartless, we do have a heart, just ours is shielded with facts and truths. It is not that we don’t love ourselves, we do, with all our might we do. But when it comes to our loved ones, we go even a step further than we could, or we should and love them with borrowed might.

And this is what I didn’t want her to go through. I didn’t want her to grow beyond her years, but she already has and I can do nothing about it.

I am just like ‘her’, and she is just like me…

 

PS: I attach the two links here that I refer to from my previous posts.

https://aestheticmiradh.com/2017/06/12/just-like-her/

https://aestheticmiradh.com/2017/11/01/a-souvenir/

Death Or Life- What Gives You True Pain?

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?

Does it?

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.