As I popped a pill, I hoped it’d cure not just the head ache
That I’d drift into blissful sleep, atleast for the body’s sake
But you stayed. With intensity that increased with each passing day
With every attempt at building strength, you’d make a foray
Triggered with all the chinks in my armour – Failure, fear, loss
You made me feel weak at the knees, destroying my chauss
You seared through every cell, blurred my sight
Wrecking me piecemeal, you engulfed all my might
Oh dear Pain, go away. Please abandon me
Aren’t you bored of this forced camaraderie?
The first time I watched this movie was with my mother. Every sub-plot had something that we both could relate to. This particular scene had the two of us LOL.
I was in Class 6. We recently shifted our abode to a locality which was a 5 min walk from my school. Like many other 10 year olds, I was obsessed with my cycle. I’d make up imaginary ‘Swat Kats’ and ‘Pokemon’ stories and save the world on my bicycle.
As a natural need of a 10 year old, I wanted to cycle to school. After a lot of pestering, scolding and tears in that order, I was given the freedom to save the world on my bicycle beyond the compound wall of our apartment.
That evening as I cycled back home, as part of my mission I had to check for ‘The Enforcers’ who were following me. I noticed a bottle green coloured car. It looked familiar. The car honked. I knew that honk like my breath. Our bald headed driver was following me.
‘Yes, I asked him to. And he will continue to do so everyday’, my loving mother said as she stuffed me with pickle rice that evening.
That night as I lay on my bed, my mind worked on trying to fit in the car and our bald headed driver into my missions. I came up with the following:
1) Swat Kats’ fan following
2) A rich common man trying to steal my Pokeballs
‘Pack your bag. The car is waiting!’ Mum shouted at 8 15 am the next day. ‘The world never understands Superheroes’ I muttered to myself and allowed myself to be dropped to school by our bald headed driver.
Twelve years later, things haven’t changed much. It never will. ‘Cause my mother’s world revolves around me. No! I am her world. On my birthday, she will be the first one to wake up, pray and cook some lip-smacking food. On her birthday, which is today, she was the first to wake up, pray and cook some really lip-smacking food.
She has logic that is twisted with lots of love.
For eg; I am sad => She is sad => She is angry because I am sad ergo she is sad.
She will make Prakash Raj’s character in Aakasamantha/Abiyum Naanum look sane. She cooks for me. (Ok, 2nd time I mentioned food in this post). She will take all the pain of hurting me just to teach me right from wrong. She will cry for me, with me. She breathes for me, just so that she is there when I call out ‘Amma’ in times of need.
It swam and swirled and played in the ocean
And gushed, jocosely, at the bow of the boat rowed by men.
Along with its peers it raced to the shore
After every encounter with the rock, into the air it soar.
The sun shone bright
And took its mates away
It packed and prepared to follow the light
Knowing, in this regard, it did not have a say
It waited patiently, in it’s temporary abode
To be sent back home along with the hoard.
Down it came, tearing apart layers of air
Only to find itself land on a wagon with gear.
All the water drop could feel, was its own mirth
As it rushed down the casement, hoping to meet earth.
Instead it was pained to be greeted by cold tar
Who vaunted his might by covering the earth, far.
I was very little, he was little-er. As part of the day’s chores we had back then, we were playing. The jasmine creeper that can be broken with one hand today was strong enough to hold both our weights put together. He was the naughty monkey, always experimenting new ways to “play”. This one, failed. He hurt himself on the right side of his head and chipped off the corners of a step. He was bleeding. My aunt and uncle rushed him to the nursing home adjacent to our house. He came out alright, flaunting his bandages like a hero who fought a battle. Amidst the cajoling and scolding, we fell asleep.
The next morning my aunt woke me up and asked me for a favour. She wanted me to take the little one to the nursing home to change the dressing. An air of responsibility suddenly filled me, my head rose and I held the little one’s hand and saw to it that his dressing was changed, properly.
That was the first time I felt responsible.
Today, after 18 years, I still remember it clearly, like it happened yesterday. Some “first-times” are just so special afterall!!
This ad reminds me of us back then. I must’ve watched it about a million times by now.
It’s the little one’s 21st birthday today! Can’t believe how time flies. Happy birthday 🙂
Akka (haha! Ya right 😛 )
I’m not perfect but I sing. Music makes me happy and that’s all I care about. I don’t sing to impress others or to make money, I sing ’cause I love to. 😀
Here’s one that I recorded on one such occasion when I needed music to get myself out of the melancholy. 🙂
The karaoke has been made by Mitesh. Have a look at his work, here. Yes yes, there are mixing issues and hence tempo issues, but that’s the best I could do with the free software I have. 🙂
Everything below is not a work of fiction.
My whatsapp and facebook contacts have statuses with wishes for “Friendship Day”. I too responded to a few who sent me wishes personally and sent a few from my side to those who really mean that extra thing to me. Friendship day brings back sour memories of my being friends with people, you know, real human beings. They can stay with you, always, holding your hand and have that brain of theirs manipulate monstrous stuff against you. They can be someone you just met or someone you know since kindergarten. They’ll make you cry, feel lonely, turn the world against you and leave you feeling jealous for the kind of ‘new’ friends they make.
Then I decided that being attached to real people isn’t working out. I needed a new best friend. “You are already friends with it, think!”, some random inner voice whispered. “Food! :-D”, my brain replied. Yay! So food is my new best friend? Yes! It has been there with me through thick and thin, highs and lows, every time I needed it. It complements my happiness and makes me more happy and brings me out of sorrow by diverting my attention towards it. Oh such an attention seeker it is, I tell you!
So, dear food, Thank You! Happy Friendship Day!
I know you are with us and in a very peaceful state of mind, relieved off the pain. But the emptiness persists. Every time I look at myself in the mirror, I can’t help to not notice my striking resemblance with you. You have no idea how many people told me the same, or may be you do. Except for the lips, I look exactly like you. As I grew older, the resemblance seemed more prominent, right?
Not just looks, I love using anything new as soon as possible, like you. You know that right? Hehe. Clothes, pens, books, everything.
We know cleaning up your room is something you wouldn’t appreciate, but all your stuff is safe. I couldn’t help noticing the way you jotted down everything in your diary. At 84, that kind of memory is awesome. Not just memory, looking at the way you had your accounts written, I was shocked. Dad did tell me about the immense patience you had, but I never thought it was in such huge amounts.
Also, the wonderful pain bearing capacity you had! Wow! I wish I had got that quality too from you. I am a coward when it comes to health related stuff. 5 1/2 years back, when you came back from the hospital, I remember how you were ready to drive a car (or was it an airplane? 😛 ) even though your body didn’t physically support you.
You know what, two days back when they brought chart papers for something, I was reminded of that Saturday afternoon in Class 7 when you brought me chart papers and helped me draw lines on the chart. And yes, it was with the endless stationery supply from your room. 😛
Every time I try to picture you, your radiant smile is what comes to my mind first. I’m sure that’s how you are right now, on a new journey, packed and excited and super happy. We will miss you. Rest in peace.
As the scientists in CERN discover the God particle, a news channel shows more proof about the end of the world this December.
My mother wants to enjoy the last few months, assuming we’d all die. Somebody is out there in the bank mortgaging their only home, to send his child off to a foreign land for higher studies and another who has a sore back from all the extra work to buy an extra half a kg of dal for her kids back home.
There is a girl crying over her breakup and another excitedly looking for that perfect dress for her first date. There’s a geek who is happily beneath her books and another who is taking his PhD at the age of 17.
There is my neighbor’s dog, sleeping happily in their freshly mowed lawn, under the warm sun, turning to look at my balcony when the wind chime rings. “What your problem? Let me sleep!” he says with his eyes and goes back to sleep.
There are Aunty Jis watching the Saas-Bahu saaga and waiting for the evening to set in so that they can gossip. There are people who bear being mocked by their superiors at work or worse, their colleagues.
There are people who meet new people and become friends. There are strangers who, out of no where, provide help when needed, even if the help is in the form of a faint smile.
And there are news channels which, again , show more proof about the end of the world this December.
Next January wouldn’t be different either. The jobs ‘might’ be different, the friends ‘might’ be different, the Aunty Jis’ attitude ‘might’ be different, the stranger ‘might’ offer more than the faint smile, but it wouldn’t be the end, it’d just be different.
What is it with people and free useless advises? They seem to have advises aplenty for everyone and anyone on the street. Their favourite targets, usually, are young people, who are of ‘marriageable’ age and struggling to make a career out of their dream. They think they’ve seen the world enough and are self proclaimed ‘good’ advice givers. But they actually refer to karnatic music as kannad music and ask if I like maths after I tell them that I am an engineering graduate.(Duh! I’m not in class 9)
Just yesterday I came across one such Aunty Ji who tried rubbing her opinion onto me about choice marriages even after she was told that my own parents had one. According to her, one (especially girls) should look at how rich the other person is and then become friends and should never befriend anyone whose family is below her family’s financial level. Yuck! It is such a dirty thought.
Mum and I did not respond in a positive way to what she said. Good she understood and shut up.
What must’ve this lady taught her children, I began to wonder. She is now a grandmother. Is this what she’ll teach her grandchildren? Is this what her children will teach theirs?
Then I looked at my mother. I was thankful to her, and dad, for teaching me how to decide between right and wrong.
God bless Aunty Ji and her children and yeah her grandchildren too!