Family Ties

As sacred as some relations might be, they aren’t always good for you.

Children are often taught the saying, “Blood is thicker than water.”

The original saying, however, was a little different. “Blood of a covenant is thicker than water of the womb.” It means that the bond you have with true friends is stronger than the one with family.
Which is an important thing to know. Especially for kids who are often insulted, and misbehaved with, by their own family. How helpful would it be for them to know that sometimes it is okay to feel more connected to friends.
But we don’t tell them that. We find it okay to let them feel terrible about not being able to connect with people who aren’t nice to them.

I just spent a week of family time. That meant a family of four on the table plus one stranger (me). And oh how painful that was!
Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t tortured or anything, I just wasn’t understood, ever, in my 25 odd years of existence. My family doesn’t know what kind of music I listen to, what I read, that I write, that I love to travel or that I don’t like chocolates (cue gasp!). Hehe 🙂

My family did not even know what I did in life for the past six months. The professional pressures, the personal dilemmas. Nothing. If I were in pain, I was on my own. If it was an achievement, it was all mine.
They never chose to listen, so I learnt how to stay silent.

I sat and ate at a table with blood that has grown to be thinner than water for me.
I still remember the words, “Let’s see who will stand by you in trouble other than us…”
Last April, two people, at least, did stand by me.
Neither of them are related to me.

And I recall, my blood wasn’t around. Except the one that was infected and inside me– none other.

It is okay to teach your children to value your family, love them first, be there for them. This teaching works just find for my sibling whose connection is so perfect that it is almost disturbing. But, not all fingers are the same. So not all teachings fit well everywhere.

So if your child has the smartness to form tie of his own, encourage him/her.
Perhaps, as he/she grew up, you forgot to pay attention. And with growing up, your child also grew apart. Don’t punish him/her for that.

 

— Poetry —

I felt the farthest from family
Amidst conversations of my failures
As the ones I share a home with
Turned my life into a hell

I felt the most connected with people
When they looked at me as a person
When I was not a daughter or a son
But a human being, with disappointments

I was the most comfortable in life
When I could shed my roles and relationships
When it was okay to not be okay
And it was alright that I was a misfit

I have drifted away from my family
Because my experiences, opinions were never heard
Every time I gave a voice to my thought
I was hushed and told, “everyone else comes first.”

 

~ Your child is a human being first.

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Happy Independence Day

Saffron, white and green. What a tacky choice of colors.

As is the rule of social gatherings on special occasions– meet, greet and leave. I attended a color-coded get-together of acquaintances. The agenda? Independence Day.

I received the invite to this event last week, stating we must be our ethnic best in the shades of the tri-color. Though it wasn’t necessary to have all three, only one color would also suffice.

As the enthusiastic person that I am, always ready to dress up, I chose to wear all white. A sprinkle of saffron and green with the dupatta. And careful accessorizing with the bangles. Perfect. I felt confident, and left home to reach the venue.

Lo and behold! People pointed and looked amused. My pride was slowly fizzling out, with each stare and whisper. Are we, as a nation, so ashamed of our flag? So ashamed to show that we love our country?

Well, with the behavior that I witnessed, I felt ashamed. I removed my bangles, stuffed the dupatta in my purse and wiped the smile off my face.
I belong to a nation of ashamed cowards.
I belong to a nation full of bullies.
And, I am ashamed of it.

 

– – Poetry – –

गोरे तो दुश्मन थे, राज करके चले गए
इन भूरे देशवासियों को तो देखो ज़रा
गोरों ने तो गैरों जैसे सामने से वार किया
इन भूरों ने तो देश ही खोखला करा

आज देश को कोई नहीं देखता , एक जुट नहीं हैं हम
एकता तो हर कवी के कागज़ पे ही मिलती है
तिरंगे में लिपट के फौजी आ तो जाता है
पर ज़िन्दगी उसकी आज भी मज़हब के शिकंजे में है

 

~ ना मिलाना भगवा और हरा रंग, कहीं खून ना बह जाए फिर से…

A twist of fate

Life has a strange way of mocking us

The last month was a turbulent one. I barely kept a track of time or weeks as they passed and never gave it a thought either. Travelling, working, running around in a spiral. Ending up where I started.

Fate is the best suspense of our lives. It changes, and changes again before we know how to react or what to do. Fate can be a pain in our ass. It can also land us in situations which feel heavenly. And it fills us with disbelief. Like, what the bloody hell is happening!

I have felt that on many occasions in life. Mostly good, sometimes bad. All about perspective, I have felt. So I tried to have a good perspective about how fate has been treating me. Surprising me. Creating a comedy out of life, the tragedy, as I know it.

 

Quoting my favorite book, ‘Oh, Toto! I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore!’

 

–Poetic Musings—

 

The tornado flew me high up in the sky
Round and round and round it went
I landed in a place unknown, far away
Something for which I wasn’t meant

New place, new people, felt so strange
I wasn’t home anymore
I dusted myself off, took a deep breath
And began to face what I hadn’t faced before

Destiny has strange ways of shaping your life
It will never remain constant, be very clear
Draw a smile on your face, and learn to walk
There is nothing that you need to fear

 

 

~ Fate made me a person I don’t recognize

Has it ever been…?

So many things leave us wondering

Has it ever been that you sat on a pavement, helpless, and cried?
Has it ever been that you dug your head into a pillow so that the world won’t hear you scream?
Has it ever been that one bad thing reminded you of a lifetime of bad stuff and you just broke down?
Things get bad, then they get worse. Has it ever been that when things got bad, it really seemed they will never get better?

 

I hope, that when such a time comes, we find someone to talk to. Whenever the darkness seems unbearable, I hope we find a ray of light.
Today I pray for everyone, including myself, to find peace and love and hope in this world full of madness and inhumanity.

Chester will stay alive in our hearts and so will the many thousands and millions of people who battle depression and inexplicable sadness.
“… I cannot find a hobby and cure depression. I need to find a way to live, despite…”

 

— Poetic Musings —

Depression is a cheater of all sorts
It attacks me on my face, and behind my back
I try to smile, I keep busy too
But depression hits me where I lack

 

 

~ Talk. If you feel bad, talk. About anything. Nothing. Speak, because we don’t want to lose you.

Let’s not wait

We wait to create something big, and we create nothing at all

We wait, to live big, and we don’t live at all
The pressure towards creating something perfect and becoming someone big is immense. We’re constantly on a lookout to find that one big thing, we forget a series of small things happening that might add up to a lot more. We want to be known, once and for all, but before that, the shadows are a comfort.

I often wonder why our generation doesn’t make friends easily, doesn’t trust easily. Why we, as a people, don’t want to share what’s on our mind. Perhaps, because we are so engrossed in thinking about all that might go wrong, we forget to forge bonds, relations.

What if my relationship reveals my weaknesses? What if my friendship affects my success…

We’re a generation of selfies and self-loathing. So much hatred for ourselves, we’d rather plunge ourselves into dark rooms and empty corners rather than accept inability or failure.

 
— Poetry —

He knew he will do something great, one day
And so, he did not want to do anything else, today
Loneliness pushed him out of this reverie.

 

~ We are self-destructive bombs walking around

Insomnia

There are so many things that don’t let me sleep at night

There is a voice in my head that keeps talking to me in low tones. It gets loud sometimes. It speaks to me of unspeakable things. Vile, terrible things.

It talks to me about my insecurities. It reminds me how vulnerable I am, in certain ways, on certain days. Insomnia robs me of the one blessing we humans have– a break from reality, an ability to forget for a while.

 

I remember the time when I was scared that I’ll amount to nothing in my life– what will my family say?
I remember the time when a pimple on my face mattered so so much.
I remember a time when I was scared of school next day.
I remember when I was scared of talking to people.
I remember a lot.
Insomnia doesn’t let me forget.

 

We all have things that don’t let us sleep at night. The trick to being okay with all these things is to accept being un-okay.

 

 

— Poetic Musings —

A chance at forgetting all that went wrong
Was placed in front of me that night
I sat on the chair, facing the solution
A chance at setting everything right

And then I looked at myself in the mirror
The person who I am today
Take away one wrong from my 25 years
And a lot will go astray

Hence I decided to not take that chance
Live with insomnia like old friends do
Fears and insecurities make us who we are
Thanks to our mistakes that we grew

 

~ Build yourself from what went wrong.

Exhausted

Kya aesi baat hai iss duniya me
Jo insaniyat he lutt gayi hai harr kisi ki

I am tired. No, I am exhausted at how insensitive and mean we have become. We are made of stardust and magic, and yet, look at where we are now.

I sit in a room full of people to feel most uncomfortable about the vibe that flows through it. The conversations are full of lies, the glares are competitive and there is barely a soul in sight that is accepting and generous.

What is inside us, or in this world, that has eaten us up? We’re hollow beings walking around, making a lot of noise to gain attention. We are nothing but a bunch of jerks making life harder than it already is.

It is scary, this world that we live in. The monsters don’t wear their masks anymore.

–Lost Humanity–

We worship a plethora of Gods
But we have lost the God inside
Meaningless existence becomes our life
We’re hollow shells yet full of pride

They tell me, find someone, settle down
How do I find humanity in this mess?
Humans are torn apart every day
And yet they tell me, don’t stress

It is a scary world around me
Full of light, yet monsters lurk around
So I choose silence, and dreams
And I don’t make a single sound


~ What have we become?

The never-ending cycle

You end up in the place where you escaped from

It has been long since I posted something online. Some things just never make it out of my phone drafts, some others are lost in notebooks or word documents– lack of staying put in one place over the last month.

Anyway, I went around the country searching for a pain reliever for my bad leg, and came back to where I started from, Delhi, my doctor of 10 years, and a search for work to keep everything else at bay.
I ended up where I started.
‘Ha-ha’, I can hear the cosmos laugh.

I prefer taking the train to visit places within Delhi-NCR- gives me time to read. Yes, I am a compulsive reader- guilty as charged. At times, when I am not reading, I see how people rush to work in the morning, rush home in the evening. It’s amusing– you all are going to end up where you are escaping from.

I have visited this topic of hurry before as well, it is just intriguing to see so many people, with such little patience and so less time.
If only we could all focus on being humans, and not machines.

— Poetic Musings —

Happiness knocked on my door
I was in a hurry, no mood to entertain
So I left for work from the back door

A neighbor stopped me to chit-chat
I was in a hurry, no mood for talks
So I pretended to be on the phone

My wife called me to discuss some matter
I was in my office, whiling my time away
So I hung up, with a message, ‘I am busy’

My child said, ‘play with me, please’
But I was working on a presentation
So I called his mother, it was her job

Every step of the way, I escaped nicely
And my last time is here now, I need family
They find time to be here, unlike I did

Death stands here, in front of me
I am not in a hurry, first time ever
But he respects time more than I did

 

~ I escaped only to reach where I was destined to be

Bahubali

The strong one

This is not a movie review. And it isn’t a proclamation of my love for the movie either (though I do love it). It is a word challenge. A particularly difficult one, it came from an old friend, and he gave it with a smirk. I am sure he expected me to back out.
But taking up something seemingly impossible just has its rewards. Here, the reward will be poetic satisfaction. 🙂

Hence, no backing out.

Bahubali, the word itself, means the one with strong arms. Ancient drawings, sculptures and scripts define men as having arms ‘that reached their knees’

Damn, that’s long arms son! 😛

But, it was the way it was. Physical work was much more than what we have now and people were stronger, larger and much more heavily built. Evolution, I guess. (not an expert)

Bahubali is one such revered figure in history. And with imagination, extreme hard work and the right amount of dedication, it has now become a movie that’s making history.

— Poetic Trials —
Bahubali, the strong one
An idea of strength
Of valour and honesty
Dedication and righteousness

Bahubali, the strong one
Is not on-screen
Nor in writings
nor is there in sculptures

Bahubali, the strong one
Is inside you, me
everyone who ever dares
At least once in life

Bahubali, the strong one
comes to life, with eyes lit
when disaster strikes
and you choose to face it.

 

~ Challenge complete

Package

She is a complete package

A sentence so many young girls are hoping to hear. The burden of perfection is so huge, yet we put all of it on the ladies. So much on our plate, and the added requisition of perfection. Damn!

Young ladies, adolescents mostly, hope to lead perfect lives. Be a perfect package. God knows most of us adults hope for the same, even now.

The society matters.
Public opinion matters.
All opinion matters, except the one inside.

As an adult, I have heard ‘perfect package’ in different instances. For others, and sometimes for myself too.
And it has never been a compliment really.

It is a responsibility. More of an expectation. A perfect package is rarely a good thing.

Because, there is nowhere to go from perfect…

–Poetry–

A perfect package
Properly gift wrapped
The bow was so neat
The package, exquisite
But a perfect gift
Is the wrapped kinds
The one that stays
On the mantelpiece
Never undone, untouched
A joy of perfection
From afar
Perfect sounds good
It sounds so tempting
But perfect is perfect
Only from afar

 

~ There’s no such thing as a perfect package