They were “just friends”

For a very long time

No one ever understood her,

As he did

And no one touched his soul

As she did

And yet, they lived far apart.

Afraid to explore

Afraid to feel

Afraid to lose

We are better as friends

They say to each other,

Laughing

As their minds wonder

How it might have been

To be in each other’s lives

Feeling

Loved and respected

Understanding and accepting

Because…

That’s what a marriage

Should be all about.

Or is it just that,

That a marriage destroys?

This one is for my nephew, who celebrated his 22nd birthday a few days ago...

Happy Birthday, Nannu!!

It was the first time that I had held anybody so small, so fresh, so wonderful, so lovely... I can close my eyes and be transported back  to the moment when I held you in my arms for the first time ever... a feeling so unique and so unforgettable... and never relived.  You were the first  of the new generation, the first of many new things life was to bring to all us... and each time every one of us looked at you, our hearts filled up with a love that was hitherto unknown to us.

As you grew older, taking your first faltering steps and then beginning to run at a pace that your grandmother could not keep up with, the air filled with your laughter and the house with joy. You have always been special ... because you were the first... the first to teach us how it feels to have a little bundle of joy in the house ... the first to make us aware of every small thing around us, that could affect you ... the first to fill our hearts with joy each time you smiled with a twinkle in your eye...

I have distinct memories of hugging you.. you felt so good in my arms... I miss that feeling.

I remember the look on my mother's face each time she watched you running around happily... I miss that look and I miss that happy child who would come running to hug me even before I could completely enter the house.

I remember you being the big brother, trying to get Nishu to sleep with a complicated bedtime story... you elaborate story-telling and her rapt attention.

I often wonder, how much of this do you remember? Someone once told me that memories are nothing more than stories  that have been repeated to you way too many times... the mind sees them and believes that they happened... if that is true, then you would have no recollection of any of these as they were never told to you... I wish I could change that.

 इक   अरसे  के  बाद  जो  हुई   कल   उनसे  बात 

यूँ   लगा  मानो  कल   ही  की  थी  वह   मुलाक़ात 

कुछ   न   बदला  था,  थे  वैसे  ही  हालत 

कुछ   उन्होंने  कही,  और  फिर  से  की  मैंने  अनसुनी वह  हर  बात 

एहसास   था  मुझे,  लेकिन   कर  न   सकी  बयां  वह  बात 

जाना  जब   मैंने,  यादों   में   गुज़रती  है  उनकी  हर  रात 

इस  उम्मीद  में  के  ख्याबों  में  अब   भी  होगी  मुलाक़ात 

वह   यार   मेरा,  वह   बिछड़ा  हमसफ़र 

कैसे  कहूँ ,  वह   करता  रहा  सदा  ख्याबों  में  बसर 

उस   गली  चले  न   थे  फिर  भी  उसी का रहा ज़िन्दगी  पर  असर 

Recovery...

It has been one of those days (or is it weeks, months...even a year perhaps) when the mind has been restless while body has been at rest. The New Year dawned and before I could even blink a month had passed by. All the New Year resolutions remained (so far, at least) simply as resolutions...showing no inclination to move into action. The mind kept trying to mentally shake the body out of its lethargy, but to no avail. Surprisingly, when asked, the body kept insisting that the mind was not co-operating!! And in this tug-of-war of the mind and body, days turned into weeks and months into a whole year. Am I leading somewhere with this? Rest assured, I am.

One would wonder what this tussle between mind and body is all about... it’s about recovery, convalescence, recuperation, rejuvenation...or whatever else you may wish to call it. While we spend a lot of time, effort and money on curing the illness, we seem to forget to factor in the time required for convalescence which is the time it takes for the mind and body to work in tandem once more. Something the family and friends and often even the patients themselves seem to forget. Any serious illness, takes a toll on the mind, body and spirit...leaves behind self-doubt and fear...can I do this? Should I do this? What if... and similar such ridiculous concerns seem to surface in the mind, giving the body all the reasons it needs to stay put and not make any effort.

I remember one of my nurse friends in Sweden telling me that the female brain works only at 70% its normal capacity post-delivery. As many of us have experienced, post-delivery there is a feeling of a brain fog and its impossible to remember the simplest of things...and yet, very few mothers forget to feed/clean their babies in time, or miss its cry. It appears that nature has somehow ensured that a new mother focuses essentially on the needs of her baby and renders all else into the background of her mind. So think about it...even nature felt the need to give a mother’s mind a little time to catch up with the her body after the trauma of childbirth, which is such a natural, normal and frequent occurrence. Yet, we, forget to do so when our own bodies or those of our loved ones undergoes the unnatural trauma of a serious illness/surgery etc.

Any recovery process is not merely a physical phenomenon... the physical recovery, or lack of it is still visible and measurable...it’s the emotional and mental recovery that most people struggle to come to terms with and often tend to neglect...leading to depression or stress of varied kinds. The effort it takes to fight the ailment, to remain in a positive frame of mind and to try to be cheerful all deplete the emotional reserve an individual has. Emotional reactions and breakdowns happen after the worst is over...almost  similar to weeping in relief. A patient who has borne the pain stoically suddenly seems to become impatient and irritable once the worst is over.

Add to this the basic expectation of people around, that, now that he/she is physically fit, they should run around as they did before and behave exactly as if nothing had happened. “Put it behind you” is the simple adage that is often thrown around...is it so easy?  

वह तेरी याद ही थी जो मेरी रूह में बसती रही

वह मेरा इनकार ही था जो तेरे ज़ेहन में थमा रहा

न तुझे रहा होश के मैंने क्या कही 

न मुझे रहा इल्म के तू न मेरा रहा 

वक़्त का दरिया बह कर भी थम सा गया

तेरे आने से यादों का ही मंज़र रहा

An early morning stroll down the memory lane

It’s been a month since I made the decision to quit my job and take a much needed break. The time needed for the mind to relax, unwind and blank-out has now, I believe, passed. This morning I awoke rather early with this strange sensation of purpose... as though there were many things to be done and it took me a few minutes to realize that such was not the case. And so, I pushed that sense of purpose into the realms of mental beyond and made myself my morning cuppa. And as I sipped at my true-blue south-Indian kaapi, I let my mind wander aimlessly into the depths of nostalgia that only the mind can traverse to....

Somehow, the early morning coffee always makes me think of my mom... surprisingly consistently, each morning, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee brings with it a whiff of my mother into my kitchen, 15 years after she passed away... and that’s when I miss her the most. She was the one to introduce me to coffee or rather filter coffee at a point in time, when I decided I was too grown-up to drink milk first thing in the morning (despite the fact that I loved milk). Each morning, the first thing she would do when she entered the kitchen, was to make the coffee decoction. I would wake up to the aroma of freshly brewing coffee and the calm persona of my mother.... so I guess it is not surprising that morning coffee and mom are intertwined in my memories.

I remember the time, when just after she had retired, the doctor suggested that she go for a morning walk to ensure that she kept physically active. By that time, my brothers had moved to Mumbai for their respective jobs and she and I were living by ourselves in Nagpur, while I completed my studies. So, on doctor’s orders, we decided to go for a morning walk each day. We would stroll at a leisurely pace on the picturesque terrain of Seminary Hills, watching the sun rise, admire the colours in the sky, and listen to the birds tweet, as we talked about something or the other. We would return just in time to meet the milkman, and the newspaper. I would grab the paper and squat on the ‘pulia’ (remember the concrete benches along the road?) outside our building, while mom would carry the milk into the house. She would emerge some 15 minutes later with two cups of steaming hot coffee and set herself down on the pulia opposite me. We would then drink our coffee, sharing the newspaper and discussing random news-bytes and as the sun moved higher up in the sky, we would be reminded of the thousand mundane things that awaited our attention... and we would go into the house to start our respective days...

I remember these as the most peaceful moments of my life, when all seemed well with my world. My mother had a calming presence that is very rare in today’s world. Her very aura felt peaceful, calm and content, despite the fact that her life had been so tremendously turbulent. 

A New Year resolution - 2010

As a rule, I never make resolutions... on New Year's eve, or any other time of the year.

However, the dawn of 2010, brought with it, a rare period of relaxation. Having recently quit my rather hectic and stressful job as a strategic brand consultant, I am currently on a break. So, with the onset of the new year, I decided to launch into exploring some of the things that I have been meaning to do for a long time - penning my thoughts being one of them.
And so begins this new journey....