Missed?

The air got thin
But I didnt say a word
The picture went all blurred
I waited if it'd settle down
And you say I wasn't there?

Slowly the smoke filled the place
Smoke of hatred
Smoke of pain
Smoke of tolerance
And you say I wasn't there?

The rumors went bad
I didn't give a damn
You kept making it worse
I struggled all within
And you say I wasn't there?

Time never takes a flair
Then you say life isn't fair
Something keeps going wrong
True, what goes up will come down
Does it mean I wasn't there?

Oh! your reminisces
Its just a matter of time
A temporary piece of time, I promise
Then you say I wasn't there?

But my heart conjures otherwise.

When there's nothing to look back and only letting go

“Well, now
If little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you
Little by little
If suddenly you forget me
Do not look for me
For I shall already have forgotten you

If you think it long and mad the wind of banners that passes through my life
And you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots
Remember
That on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms
And my roots will set off to seek another land” 
― Pablo Neruda, Selected Poems

Melting Snow

The pain is over
The wait is done
The power to hold you
Is what I yearn
To look beyond the night
And hover above almighty sky
You make me forget the imperfect ones
As if you are the first & only
Your brown eyes & soothing soul
Will it be mine? I want to know
Oh! your warm skin and trembling hands
Makes my feet go cold & skin blush
My hopes, my desires are born again
Afresh, anew
Yes, you are the cause
Be mine, thats only I ask
I want to grow, I want to cry
I want to smile, I want to shy
I want to weep, I want to hide
I want to endure, I want to fly
The old skin will melt soon
I want to break the bonds
Take me to all heavens above
You made me realize- I love "Love"

First Rain

A winter, an autumn have passed
Since I haven't seen you
Your hands that embraced
Your love that swept me
Are all counted in the bygone days

The heavy rain proves it
The leaves that fall, the shelter it breaks
Maybe you broke mine

But crippled flowers bloom again
Even after the heavy rain
Yes, its time to bid goodbye
To your memories I don't want to recognize

Look! the rain has come
Washing me ashore to a new land
Which doesn't have a magic you once had

After witnessing thousand showers with you; for you
This one is mine and only mine
My First Rain is here
It wants me to grow once more
Absolute, Determined

PART III : Eternal Halt

-Pieces of a Diary

Pg 1689

I am out of clue what is happening. He's been to another work tour but was supposed to return yesterday by flight. Its raining exuberantly since previous night everywhere. With no network to access and failing television antennas, all my faith in Almighty is rolling down. Each striking thunder breaks my comfort to our son and his enormous wails breaks me. I have never got this feeling ever- of losing him. What if the flight... I quickly do that thought aside. 

We got married in the little backyard wedding having only a few people present. We love cutting out from the world. I was in a peach white shouldered gown with no gown-tail and he was in the favorite blue-ink tuxedo. The backyard was covered in white lilies, purple orchids which only grow to the fullest in two months a year in heavy spring. That is the best time to make someone yours; with nature supporting. 

The thunder is too hard and avoiding me to dwell in my thoughts ushering me back to present. I can't wait too long. I must do something, get to the airport at least and check the flight arriving myself. I admit it today, I've always wished his work tours would end. I am leaving our son with the neighbors till I get back, hopefully with him.

24 years later:

Son: "So mother was beautiful right? I think even photos could not do justice to her beauty".

Father: "Thats because she was beautiful inside out. I wish she'd not have left the house that day".

Son: "And she wished you would leave your work tours- so says her diary".

Father: "If only she'd tell me...."

Son: "Its okay dad. I guess even I shouldn't have wailed that night, that only made everything worse [chuckles]. But there's nothing we can do".

Father: "I need some time alone, son". [sitting on the chair in dining hall]

Son: "I understand".

Father: "Why did you leave? My flight got delayed and with no phone access anywhere, I couldn't reach you. I got back the next day and the neighbors told you'd left for the airport the previous night. You know I checked the entire airport for you but the surveillance camera showed you did not come there. I checked the entire town and found no trace of you. For two days I was in our home, expecting you'd come anytime.. for me.. for our son. You never came. After four days, police found parts of our old chevy in forest. Probably hit by a tree, the car had fallen into a deep trench. You knew that was a bad shortcut to take to airport, you always told me the same."

"You know I love you and our son loves you a lot. He keeps admiring your beauty. This home is still refreshed with your remembrances. You will watch me grow old from heavens above, I wish I'd see you growing old too". He says holding their wedding picture in hand. The wall is filled with pictures, he looks up. Its been 24 years since she's gone and this time- he's counting the years. 

PART II- Scintillating Reminiscing

-Pieces of a Diary
Pg 847

Here I sit in the park we first met. Where his cap came flying towards me and we almost bumped into each other picking it. Here he asked my number and since then we've never been alone. That white cap with blue stripes is still with him, now has become a lucky charm.
I haven't seen him since a month. He's off to his another work tour to other part of the country. For a woman who works from home, this is hard to understand at times. Our house seems alien to me when he's away. My skin appears parched, the walls seem colorless, the mirrors has his' reflection. But with every passing hour when he's on his way back home, the house itself illuminates with brighter colors. I get chills even thinking he'll be coming here very soon. Actually very soon, maybe in another 20 minutes. I have asked him to come to this park- to share a news with him, dressed in a dress he gave on my previous birthday.
I dont know how many years have passed. It seems I've known him since eternity. How was my life before meeting him? I have no memories of it. Maybe because he's so easy going. Maybe cos he understands.
I have remembrances of our best night ever, we had gone for a sudden trip to nearest farm house right three days before he left. The farm house so elegant and subtle which appeared on brochure delivered at home. We drove till the farm house in an old chevy which is a memory of his father, so we can never let it go. Unfortunately & expectedly, it broke down a few kilometers from the destination- something not very odd. Nothing in sight and tired of trying, we spent our night in the car near the tree. I have never been afraid when he's around. We sang in chorus with the radio songs and talked to the stars- the Saturday tradition which we cannot desolate. We made love later and slept in old blankets kept in back seat of chevy. Though a towing truck came around 4.30 in the morning and spoiled our sleep.

I feel he's coming towards me.
I have never been so desperate to see him. For I will tell him I am carrying our child.

Elixir of Life

This is our world (urban and 'civilized')- Amazing ads have blown our television sets. Ads about this, ads about that. Ads about everything. Every ad fail to bother me much; yet from Hema Malini to Shilpa Shetty- I get confused which R.O purifier is the best for us. Which would save maximum energy and waste minimum water during purification. Their dresses always matches the color of R.O's against which they stand. The words they use- Flourine, Arsenic, et cetera and of course their 'challenges with price money' make people go alert. We have given up boiling water and also matka pani. It all has to be scientifically pure and  potent. After all, its the one of the paanch tatvas which our body is made out of.

In a parallel world; somewhat in a different dimension exists another world which is rural and 'uncivilized'- There's no Shilpa Shetty or Hema Malini to save them from dirty water. The water with which they have bath is the same water they drink. The water they use in washrooms is the water they use for cooking. All with same formula- H2O and with same toxic elements. Gives a disgusting look on our faces, right? I imagine a kid, about to turn 5 years in coming weeks or so, lying on bed. No, no, not sleeping. He's probably suffering from the disease which almost all boys and girls suffer from nowadays in his village. Such are remote villages in Rajasthan and Gujarat. Same goes for Africa. Why can't Miss Shetty or Miss Malini fly in here and save the people? Because it doesn't work this way. It is far off (not distance-wise) from our imagination and care.

Follow these pictures:

While you are reading this, five more kids are on bed due to water borne diseases. And then in our world- this is us, follow up:

Such is life. Water is a natural resource. Above that, we 'need' it for survival. And dont we all deserve clean water to drink? That goes out to people living in parallel dimension as well.

Donate money, if possible at- Water project or Clean Water or even better, join this cause your self.

If not possible, at least don't waste water. 

Protect it. Respect it. Save it. 

PART I- Dream Lover

-Pieces of a diary
Pg 449

He often admits that I am his 'spirit of the west'. I never could understand the real meaning of it. Never was I bothered to ask. When I am reading a novel on the jute chair in balcony, he sips his tea and stares at me for long. Long enough that I start ignoring. His never ending staring gives me palpitations.

We have a routine of star-gazing every Saturday evening when we try to count the stars on night ink blue sky. He barely looks at the infinite blanket. His eyes affixed upon me. He says am the star that he wants to count on forever. I wonder from where he brings his words that send me a jolt. Things to which I cannot think of replying.

I remember the first time we had gone for lunch when he was so afraid to hold my hand. A fragile look all across his face. Not fragile of hurt manliness. But that of a fragile love which could be broken with any miss-happening or wrong interpretation. That phase has passed though.

I dont know how much time we have spent together. I have stopped keeping track of time. He never lets me. 'We keep track of something which is about to expire', he'd say frequently. I dont argue much with him on this topic. I can only pass a smile.

He makes me feel like am the only woman he knows. Like he is fond of me like the gem keeper. Who even though is surrounded by many gems yet his favorite can only be one. One, which he keeps polishing such that it never loses its shine. His eyes full of admiration. Hair on my hands stands when I hear him say things like these. When he compares me with a nightingale, or something even beyond the definition of beauty, I lack words. Now I have stopped finding words for such allegory. 

He only wants a smile in return.

I have never seen love like this before. Is is for real?