LONG STORY SHORT
-this I wrote up, when I managed to sum up my situation the following morning, in the CCU-
Bike meets bus!
Bus loses schedule and a lil’ paint,
Bike loses rider and a lil’ petrol,
Rider loses bearings and a lil’ blood,
Rider’s friend loses peace of mind and a lil’ chicken curry,
Rider’s parents lose a happy weekend trip and some money,
Hospital loses a bed and gains a big bill,
Nurse loses a pen and this small piece of paper!
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
NEAR DEATH BLUES
-this i wrote when i was lying in the hospital bed, with just a few scratches after an encounter with a public bus-
I wrote this when I was down, lying
Coz I thought I was dying.
If God hadn’t heard me crying,
I surely must’ve been flying!
But, it was just death spying
And Lord, was he trying,
Coz he had me in shackles and tying
But the great Lord was certainly not buying.
-this i wrote when i was lying in the hospital bed, with just a few scratches after an encounter with a public bus-
I wrote this when I was down, lying
Coz I thought I was dying.
If God hadn’t heard me crying,
I surely must’ve been flying!
But, it was just death spying
And Lord, was he trying,
Coz he had me in shackles and tying
But the great Lord was certainly not buying.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
DO I CARE?
The sun doesn’t shine,
Nobody drinks wine,
The birds don’t tweet,
Because the rats all squeak.
The clouds all gather,
Merry men don’t jabber,
One each other they land blows,
The streams have stopped their flow.
Is it because of me?
I hope not,
Because the pain of guilt throbs,
Not from the outside,
But right from the inside.
Is it life that is such a bore?
My back feels a little sore.
When is it all going to end?
I hope it’s after I bend.
To what becomes of it,
I hope I know no single bit.
I can only lie to myself,
What nobody dares themselves,
That little do I care,
For what it might bare!
The sun doesn’t shine,
Nobody drinks wine,
The birds don’t tweet,
Because the rats all squeak.
The clouds all gather,
Merry men don’t jabber,
One each other they land blows,
The streams have stopped their flow.
Is it because of me?
I hope not,
Because the pain of guilt throbs,
Not from the outside,
But right from the inside.
Is it life that is such a bore?
My back feels a little sore.
When is it all going to end?
I hope it’s after I bend.
To what becomes of it,
I hope I know no single bit.
I can only lie to myself,
What nobody dares themselves,
That little do I care,
For what it might bare!
Saturday, May 16, 2009
CONTEMPLATIONS OF A LOST LIFE
-this is dedicated to all those people who once walked on this earth…
Please take time to read this, so that you may fully understand the spirit in which it was written. I hope this brings a change to the way each one of you think.
As the sweet tweeting sound flowed through the air hole opening in my room, the soothing sleep seemed to slowly pull itself away from my mind and body, filling me with the warmth of life. Yes, I was feeling awake, and unusually fresh. I opened my eyes and looked at the same ceiling that I’d been seeing every morning for the past 3 years. Even though I’d noticed that the distemper was fading a bit over the last half year, the ceiling looked unusually bright and welcoming today.
“One of those feel-good days it must be…” I said to myself, in a bare whisper. I wrestled with the idea of jumping off the bed but wisely decided against it. Stretching my hands above me, and feeling the energy flow through my body, I folded my hands under my head, and smiled to myself - something I’d forgotten how to do.
‘Today must surely be a great day!’ I thought to myself as I was enjoying the effect which the smile gave me mentally. I lifted my head and turned it the other way to gaze at the clock. It read 5:43 AM. ‘Not time for anyone to wake up yet…’ I realized.
I decided to spend sometime on the bed while I waited for them all to wake up. After all, what use was me being awake with them still fast asleep? I pulled myself into a sitting position, placed the two pillows behind my back. The touch of the soft pillows on my back gave me a sense of security. Or rather an odd sense of reassurance. Even though I wasn’t too sure why, I enjoyed the care the pillows provided me. I tugged at the curtain wire on the side of my bed, drawing the curtains apart and letting a stream of the sun’s first rays into my room. I looked around the room and had to acknowledge the beauty of every item which the rays touched. Each and every corner of the room looked pure. I looked at the length of the rays as it streamed under the couch opposite my bed-the couch that I never sat on. I wondered why it was put in my room, especially since I never sat on it. And then I remembered - but today morning, not painfully. ‘Hmmmm…that’s odd.’ I thought as I fought to ward off those thoughts.
I looked outside the window and fully appreciated the reason why god had created a sunset. If there was no sunset, how could god have brought this truly beautiful creation called the dawn, the sunrise into effect? Somehow, all of god’s creation looked arresting in the morning light. I also had to appreciate the wondrous creation called residential apartment buildings, because had I not been on the 7th floor of this apartment complex, I would not have had this great a view. I thought of my dad, who gave me this room and put my bed in this precious position. I silently thanked him-for this and for everything else he did for me…and for the things he still does.
As the light grew brighter and the morning older, people started taking to the streets, for their daily ritual of jogging, walking, playing, socializing and so on. I noticed that same old man who walked 4 dogs at the same time. With the youthfulness of those puppies, I could see that it was becoming increasingly difficult for the man to handle them. But everyday, at around the same time, he carried out this practice without fail. I noticed the girl, the one with the long hair and big round eyes. She was waiting at the bus stop. ‘Hmmmm…what’s she doing so early?’ I thought. Then I realized that today was Saturday, which meant she had her singing lessons. Yes, she was a singer. I’d heard her sing for the apartment’s anniversary celebrations. Again, unfortunately, I never had the luck to see her perform because she started performing only a year ago - which meant I was already two years late.
I fought to tear my eyes away from her and looked at the group of kids running into the play area. The football was already bouncing across the field. There was so much glee in their faces, laughter in their voices and happiness in their hearts. I watched on as they did their ‘odd or even’ procedure and went on to divide themselves into two teams and soon the game started. It was fun watching them, and I could almost not restrain myself to jump off the bed. I almost did, when something happened in the ground which brought me back to my senses. A boy, the one with the red t-shirt and specs (guess red was his lucky color, he always wore them for the morning games) twisted his ankle and fell to the ground. I winced in pain as I saw it and my mind flooded with memories. In an instant I was sweating and breathing heavily. But, as I saw him laugh at himself, slowly pick himself up from the ground and jump around I felt a sense of calmness, almost as if my heart resumed its service. A thumbs-up gesture from him gave his friends and me enough assurance that he was fine. And so was I.
I turned and looked at the clock again. It read 6:50 AM. “That’s’ odd!” I said to myself. I should have got my bed coffee along with the rest of the package by now. It was unusual for mom to be late, especially since the rest of the package was of prime importance. I fiddled with the idea of calling out, but then that would raise something of an alarm for my parents and they would come rushing into my room, with their faces and hearts flustered. You see, I’m their only child! I decided that I’d wait for a couple of more minutes before I’d call out to them. I looked out to the garden, and saw the automatic sprinklers switching on exactly at the right time, just like every other day. I looked ahead of the garden to the see Mr. Ajay's black sedan move out of the parking lot - so damn punctual. It was almost as if he waits for the sprinklers to switch on. For the last 3 years, he hasn’t broken this trend even once. I looked down to see the garbage van pull up into the compound, and move beyond my vision to the back side of the building. I knew, by routine, that it would return in exactly 4 minutes. That’s all the time it took in clearing the garbage deposits of the entire apartment.
Now, I knew that the streets would get busy, and as I was eagerly waiting for the green colored private bus to arrive at the stop, I was disturbed from my morning observance by the sound of someone fiddling with the door knob. I knew that fiddle so very well. It was mom standing outside, with the tray in one hand, balancing it and opening the door. I knew exactly what kind of emotion filled her heart when she was doing this. I also knew what expression her face had then. But every time she entered the room, all I saw was a smiling face. And today was no different. She moved gracefully across the room, masking any difficulty which she may be facing, physical or mental. She kept the tray on the tea poi and drew it close to my bed. She looked at my face and gave that warm smile, which showed nothing but love.
“What happened today amma?” I asked her out of curiosity.
She said “I’m sorry son, the milkman was late. You know you have to drink milk everyday, right.” Saying so, she sat close to the foot of my bed, and kept her hand on the mattress at a place where she couldn’t have kept it 3 years earlier. ‘Only if it hadn’t happened.’ I thought.
She looked out of the window, and didn’t say anything. I looked out with her and both of us spend sometime that way. Then, almost as if shaking away a trance, she shook her head and stretched out to the tray and got me the glass of milk. I smiled at her, and she returned it with great difficulty. I knew what was going through her mind. As I sipped the milk, she took the things which constituted the very important package that was customary with every meal I had taken for the past 3 years. She fiddled with one of them and handed it to me without a word. She didn’t even look at my face. Even I was better off that way. I took it from her hand silently, placed it in my mouth, brought the glass to my lips and with a gulp of the milk I swallowed it…the tablet.
“One down, 7 more to go!” I said, faking a laugh. Amma tried her hand at giggling but left it mid-way, knowing for a fact that she was no good at it.
-this is dedicated to all those people who once walked on this earth…
Please take time to read this, so that you may fully understand the spirit in which it was written. I hope this brings a change to the way each one of you think.
As the sweet tweeting sound flowed through the air hole opening in my room, the soothing sleep seemed to slowly pull itself away from my mind and body, filling me with the warmth of life. Yes, I was feeling awake, and unusually fresh. I opened my eyes and looked at the same ceiling that I’d been seeing every morning for the past 3 years. Even though I’d noticed that the distemper was fading a bit over the last half year, the ceiling looked unusually bright and welcoming today.
“One of those feel-good days it must be…” I said to myself, in a bare whisper. I wrestled with the idea of jumping off the bed but wisely decided against it. Stretching my hands above me, and feeling the energy flow through my body, I folded my hands under my head, and smiled to myself - something I’d forgotten how to do.
‘Today must surely be a great day!’ I thought to myself as I was enjoying the effect which the smile gave me mentally. I lifted my head and turned it the other way to gaze at the clock. It read 5:43 AM. ‘Not time for anyone to wake up yet…’ I realized.
I decided to spend sometime on the bed while I waited for them all to wake up. After all, what use was me being awake with them still fast asleep? I pulled myself into a sitting position, placed the two pillows behind my back. The touch of the soft pillows on my back gave me a sense of security. Or rather an odd sense of reassurance. Even though I wasn’t too sure why, I enjoyed the care the pillows provided me. I tugged at the curtain wire on the side of my bed, drawing the curtains apart and letting a stream of the sun’s first rays into my room. I looked around the room and had to acknowledge the beauty of every item which the rays touched. Each and every corner of the room looked pure. I looked at the length of the rays as it streamed under the couch opposite my bed-the couch that I never sat on. I wondered why it was put in my room, especially since I never sat on it. And then I remembered - but today morning, not painfully. ‘Hmmmm…that’s odd.’ I thought as I fought to ward off those thoughts.
I looked outside the window and fully appreciated the reason why god had created a sunset. If there was no sunset, how could god have brought this truly beautiful creation called the dawn, the sunrise into effect? Somehow, all of god’s creation looked arresting in the morning light. I also had to appreciate the wondrous creation called residential apartment buildings, because had I not been on the 7th floor of this apartment complex, I would not have had this great a view. I thought of my dad, who gave me this room and put my bed in this precious position. I silently thanked him-for this and for everything else he did for me…and for the things he still does.
As the light grew brighter and the morning older, people started taking to the streets, for their daily ritual of jogging, walking, playing, socializing and so on. I noticed that same old man who walked 4 dogs at the same time. With the youthfulness of those puppies, I could see that it was becoming increasingly difficult for the man to handle them. But everyday, at around the same time, he carried out this practice without fail. I noticed the girl, the one with the long hair and big round eyes. She was waiting at the bus stop. ‘Hmmmm…what’s she doing so early?’ I thought. Then I realized that today was Saturday, which meant she had her singing lessons. Yes, she was a singer. I’d heard her sing for the apartment’s anniversary celebrations. Again, unfortunately, I never had the luck to see her perform because she started performing only a year ago - which meant I was already two years late.
I fought to tear my eyes away from her and looked at the group of kids running into the play area. The football was already bouncing across the field. There was so much glee in their faces, laughter in their voices and happiness in their hearts. I watched on as they did their ‘odd or even’ procedure and went on to divide themselves into two teams and soon the game started. It was fun watching them, and I could almost not restrain myself to jump off the bed. I almost did, when something happened in the ground which brought me back to my senses. A boy, the one with the red t-shirt and specs (guess red was his lucky color, he always wore them for the morning games) twisted his ankle and fell to the ground. I winced in pain as I saw it and my mind flooded with memories. In an instant I was sweating and breathing heavily. But, as I saw him laugh at himself, slowly pick himself up from the ground and jump around I felt a sense of calmness, almost as if my heart resumed its service. A thumbs-up gesture from him gave his friends and me enough assurance that he was fine. And so was I.
I turned and looked at the clock again. It read 6:50 AM. “That’s’ odd!” I said to myself. I should have got my bed coffee along with the rest of the package by now. It was unusual for mom to be late, especially since the rest of the package was of prime importance. I fiddled with the idea of calling out, but then that would raise something of an alarm for my parents and they would come rushing into my room, with their faces and hearts flustered. You see, I’m their only child! I decided that I’d wait for a couple of more minutes before I’d call out to them. I looked out to the garden, and saw the automatic sprinklers switching on exactly at the right time, just like every other day. I looked ahead of the garden to the see Mr. Ajay's black sedan move out of the parking lot - so damn punctual. It was almost as if he waits for the sprinklers to switch on. For the last 3 years, he hasn’t broken this trend even once. I looked down to see the garbage van pull up into the compound, and move beyond my vision to the back side of the building. I knew, by routine, that it would return in exactly 4 minutes. That’s all the time it took in clearing the garbage deposits of the entire apartment.
Now, I knew that the streets would get busy, and as I was eagerly waiting for the green colored private bus to arrive at the stop, I was disturbed from my morning observance by the sound of someone fiddling with the door knob. I knew that fiddle so very well. It was mom standing outside, with the tray in one hand, balancing it and opening the door. I knew exactly what kind of emotion filled her heart when she was doing this. I also knew what expression her face had then. But every time she entered the room, all I saw was a smiling face. And today was no different. She moved gracefully across the room, masking any difficulty which she may be facing, physical or mental. She kept the tray on the tea poi and drew it close to my bed. She looked at my face and gave that warm smile, which showed nothing but love.
“What happened today amma?” I asked her out of curiosity.
She said “I’m sorry son, the milkman was late. You know you have to drink milk everyday, right.” Saying so, she sat close to the foot of my bed, and kept her hand on the mattress at a place where she couldn’t have kept it 3 years earlier. ‘Only if it hadn’t happened.’ I thought.
She looked out of the window, and didn’t say anything. I looked out with her and both of us spend sometime that way. Then, almost as if shaking away a trance, she shook her head and stretched out to the tray and got me the glass of milk. I smiled at her, and she returned it with great difficulty. I knew what was going through her mind. As I sipped the milk, she took the things which constituted the very important package that was customary with every meal I had taken for the past 3 years. She fiddled with one of them and handed it to me without a word. She didn’t even look at my face. Even I was better off that way. I took it from her hand silently, placed it in my mouth, brought the glass to my lips and with a gulp of the milk I swallowed it…the tablet.
“One down, 7 more to go!” I said, faking a laugh. Amma tried her hand at giggling but left it mid-way, knowing for a fact that she was no good at it.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
I turned my head and looked at the clock. It read 8:34 AM. I was again alone in my room, gazing out of the window. There was nothing much other than this and reading books for the last 3 years. What more can a person with no legs do?
Everyday for the last 3 years, I’ve seen the world flow in front of me. Everyday I sat and watched it, being able to do nothing. Everyday I tried not to curse my fate, the same one which took my legs in an accident. Everyday, I tried not to see the pain in the eyes of my parents’ when they had to come with all my meals to my room, along with the tablets, which I took for no reason that I understood. I’d lost it right, then what’s all this for? There are days like today, when I wake up early, and have no choice but to lie in the bed or look out into the world, waiting for my parents to come to me.
Only if I could walk, I would have gladly carried them their breakfast like a dutiful son. Only if I could walk, I would have taken them on morning walks, instead of sitting up on my bed and watching the world walk by.
Only if I could walk, I wouldn’t have had that couch in my room, which was meant for the visitors to sit and view me and express their sorrow…
I turned my head and looked at the clock. It read 8:34 AM. I was again alone in my room, gazing out of the window. There was nothing much other than this and reading books for the last 3 years. What more can a person with no legs do?
Everyday for the last 3 years, I’ve seen the world flow in front of me. Everyday I sat and watched it, being able to do nothing. Everyday I tried not to curse my fate, the same one which took my legs in an accident. Everyday, I tried not to see the pain in the eyes of my parents’ when they had to come with all my meals to my room, along with the tablets, which I took for no reason that I understood. I’d lost it right, then what’s all this for? There are days like today, when I wake up early, and have no choice but to lie in the bed or look out into the world, waiting for my parents to come to me.
Only if I could walk, I would have gladly carried them their breakfast like a dutiful son. Only if I could walk, I would have taken them on morning walks, instead of sitting up on my bed and watching the world walk by.
Only if I could walk, I wouldn’t have had that couch in my room, which was meant for the visitors to sit and view me and express their sorrow…
---------------------------------------------------------------------
…and so he lived…he lived out his life, creating happiness from every other random thing he saw with his eyes. Any regret he had, any sadness, it stayed inside him. He still strived to bring a smile to his loved ones’ faces…
Friday, May 15, 2009
A COMEBACK OF SORTS…
Well, after an extended break, it gives me immense pleasure to announce to all those ardent readers (I know, I know) of my blog, that…I’M BACK! Hehe…so much for a rousing applause!
Okay, getting to more serious or rather realistic terms, I should inform the few of you who had the interest (or out of courtesy) to keep looking at this blog, that I’ll be resuming writing on this page soon. And like the last time around, it won’t be intermittent and spaced by the months. I look to make this a more regular process.
Just so that you all know, it wasn’t that the breeze had stopped or that my thoughts couldn’t be laced. Because of a complex combination of official, social and educational commitments, coupled with personal interventions (read laziness and flippancy), the writing never took place. Though, more than once, a serious attempt was made by me, it just never materialized into anything readable due to the lack of time and concentration.
Anyways, I thank you all for the never ending support. Keep the flow of comments, opinions and ideas. They mean a lot to me, even if I may appear a little stingy in showing it!
Well, after an extended break, it gives me immense pleasure to announce to all those ardent readers (I know, I know) of my blog, that…I’M BACK! Hehe…so much for a rousing applause!
Okay, getting to more serious or rather realistic terms, I should inform the few of you who had the interest (or out of courtesy) to keep looking at this blog, that I’ll be resuming writing on this page soon. And like the last time around, it won’t be intermittent and spaced by the months. I look to make this a more regular process.
Just so that you all know, it wasn’t that the breeze had stopped or that my thoughts couldn’t be laced. Because of a complex combination of official, social and educational commitments, coupled with personal interventions (read laziness and flippancy), the writing never took place. Though, more than once, a serious attempt was made by me, it just never materialized into anything readable due to the lack of time and concentration.
Anyways, I thank you all for the never ending support. Keep the flow of comments, opinions and ideas. They mean a lot to me, even if I may appear a little stingy in showing it!
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