Of Darkness and Warmth

For a change,

Let me write of the good times.
And rescue poetry,
From the dungeons of gloom
Where it is often forced,
to be forlorn and sad.

Let me write today
About the birds chirping outside
Despite the smog in the air;
finding their happiness,
a little above
The uncaring human world.

And write too, of the sunlight
flitting through my window
Warming the body,
the mind and the heart;
Softening my sharp edges.

And of course,
Life itself.
Coursing through my veins
as through the birds high above.
This concrete jungle of a city.
Has not life created it
and lives within?

Eros and Thanatos
Darkness and light.
All need recognition
All, acceptance.
And perhaps also, appreciation?

Let me then today,
chat happily
Of the lonesome tree on the busy pavement
As of the lilting humanity behind the walls,
that yet finds happiness.
And of the two homeless people
sharing a smoke
And laughing in the Sun;
for a moment, entirely in the present.

The Lament

                       THE LAMENT

When women cry at someone’s death, it sends a chill down your spine. Every time someone dies in the village, the village women gather and lament the loss of the person they barely knew. They participate in the grief of other people. They cry recalling perhaps, their own losses. Their cry is so powerful, it overwhelms you. It takes you to a place where you feel one with the pain.

As I stood watching the group of women who had gathered to lament my masi’s death, I noticed a lot of things. It started with the eldest of women. They did not cry but made a shrill piercing sound which tore at my ears. A few newly married girls were snickering in the periphery of the group. “These traditions are so stupid and irritating. I’m sure there are better ways of expressing grief than howling like that.” said one to another. To be honest the noise was kind of irritating. Initially.

However, after a while I could see it working its way through the entire group. It was like a wave being emitted from those women which affected everyone it touched. After a while nobody was snickering and everybody was lost deep in thoughts.

I was lost in the thoughts of my maasi. The amazing person she was, the reason she died, her children who would never have their mother again. I looked at my mother. She was crying, sobbing silently into her handkerchief. I wondered what she was thinking about.  Perhaps she was remembering her childhood, those endless memories with her sister or maybe she was thinking about her sister’s children or perhaps about my grandmother, the old woman who had lost her child. Maybe she was thinking about losing me or my brother. I did hear in a movie that the worst thing that can happen to a mother is losing her child. I felt choked up. What if I had lost my mother? I just couldn’t bear the thought. 

I took my eyes off my mother and they wandered to my grandmother. She was crying convulsively as the old women around her lamented the death of her first born. It had been fifteen days since her death and she cried like it would never be over for her. She would never get over her loss. I remembered one of the women say earlier in the day that she would never be able to wear brightly coloured clothes or clothes with too much embroidery ever in her life. Maybe life had lost all its colours for her now.

Tears were welling up fast inside me. I took my eyes off her and looked at everyone else. Even those young women who were snickering earlier were crying silently as the shrill voice continued to pierce the hall. I had started crying by this point of time. I was crying for the unfairness of it all- to my masi, her children, her mother, my mother. It was at that time that they brought her son. Her twenty two year old son made his way to his mother’s mother. The son who had lost his mother held on to the woman who had lost her child and they cried together. The only two people who could perhaps, understand each other’s loss. And I cried looking at them wondering how any of it was fair.

The Final Goodbye

                                     The Final Goodbye

It had been two months since Lassie passed away. I can still remember the time very vividly. It is like a videotape playing over and over again in my head. We were all huddled around my fourteen year old bitch as she lay on her bed covered in blankets and shawl in the chilly December month. The very same morning I had sent this message to one of my close friends at around 4:00 am.

                   “I woke up and looked around for Lassie. She was not in my room. Her bed was missing as well. Then I went to my parent’s room and there she was, near the heater. Mom was sitting beside her. She told me that Lassie had probably tried to walk as she wanted to go to some corner (I have been told that dogs look for corners when they know death is approaching). She had tried to move between the television rack and got stuck and then she had wailed piteously till mom came and took Lassie to her room. I sat by her for an hour. I couldn’t forgive myself for not waking up but was thankful that mom had. I can’t believe that I am saying this but I wish she passes away soon without any pain. I can’t see her suffering like this. I can’t see her pain. It breaks my heart.”

The afternoon of the same day, Lassie slept as I caressed her. She stretched to take one last look at mom and she was gone. I wouldn’t believe it at first. I wouldn’t let them cover her because I thought it would hinder her breathing. I wouldn’t let anybody touch her or touch me. I kept looking for a  heartbeat, some sign that she was still there. There was none. Realization when it came, swept everything away as I wept and wept as if my heart would break.

It has been two months since and yet last night I met her. I was walking somewhere I can’t remember and suddenly a snowy white dog came towards me. Its ears bent backwards and tail wagging furiously, a greeting Lassie reserved for the time when we met after a long period. It was Lassie indeed. Right there in front of me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I could touch her. I moved my hand towards her, not touching. There seemed to be an invisible wall dividing us. But in one fluid motion Lassie jumped up and licked me and the barrier was broken.
I wept with joy and grief. I hugged her and cried convulsively. Soon after my tears dried up and my cheeks were thoroughly licked by Lassie, we decided to play. I cannot explain how I felt in that moment. I was so happy, so overwhelmed. I was playing with her after such a long time.

I don’t know for how long we had been playing when my mother came there. She was looking at me but I did not pay any attention to her. I could talk to her later. I couldn’t leave Lassie now.
The perspective changed. Suddenly I was my mother looking at myself from a distance. I saw myself laughing and crying and running and playing. But there was no Lassie. It was just me playing with the air in happy oblivion. That is when I woke up. My cheeks were wet with tears and yet I felt a certain happiness inside. I knew she had visited me. She had come to spend some time with me, to say goodbye and I was glad she had come.

Grandma and Rakesh-2

                           Grandma and Rakesh -2

Rakesh was fourteen now and his life had touched an all time low .He was standing in his balcony looking down, lost deep in his thoughts. Those thoughts had mostly to do with how his past two days had gone. He couldn’t really believe how his life had come to this state of wretchedness in this short span of time. 

Rakesh had joined his new school six months ago and had mostly been miserable for a lot of time. He had a very hard time settling in. But eventually things had started getting better, especially after he became friends with Shubham. He was more confident about things, more participative and going to school had actually become fun. But that wasn’t the only reason he had started liking school. There was another reason, a reason named Anya. Like all boys in their adolescence, Rakesh had experienced his very first crush, a teeny tiny one but a crush never the less.

He had found himself staring at her unconsciously, talking more about her and thinking a lot more about her. He hadn’t been sure of what was happening but it didn’t take him too long to figure out. He told Shubham about this. Right now, he couldn’t remember why exactly he told him. There had been an urge to tell, to just blurt it out to some confidant and Shubham was the closest friend he had in his new school so he called him up and told him.

The next day when he went school everybody was whispering something, looking at him and then turning away as soon as he looked at them. Something was definitely wrong and his worst fears were confirmed when one of Anya’s giggly friends pointed at him and giggled so loudly, she almost reminded him of the hyena he had seen in the zoo. It was so embarrassing. He had never been this embarrassed in his entire life. Anya was purposely looking in the opposite direction when he looked at her helplessly as if to find some answer.

He found Shubham in a corner in the classroom. Anger welled up inside him as he walked towards Shubham. “What have you done?” he asked him in a very controlled voice. “Just having a little fun. Don’t be such a spoilsport.” replied Shubham. “But you weren’t supposed to tell anybody, everybody is staring at me, lauging at me, Anya’s behaving in very weird manner. This is not right” his voice almost choked by the end. Shubham was now very serious. Quite a few heads had turned to look at them. And then Shubham began “ What the hell are you talking about? Why are you so angry about people laughing at you? They laugh at you anyways. Its nothing new for you. And you are talking to me as if you have an image to protect. Just look at yourself. You think she would even think about looking at you. You who have come from god knows which village and now have the audacity to talk to me like this. You people need to learn your limits. you come to this school with your weird village accent staining the crowd of our school. I talked to you. Even allowed you to hang out with me. All I did was have some fun and you have the guts to talk to me like that. Just go back to your backward village and stop polluting this place.” Rakesh just turned away from him, found himself a seat in some corner of the room, passed the excruciating eight periods and almost ran back home when the bell rang. Being home wasn’t comforting at all. His class teacher had called home to talk about his performance at school which was not at par with everyone else’s. His mom had been really upset and scolded him. Worst was yet to come. Dad wasn’t home yet.

How could he ever go back to school now. He couldn’t face his classmates. But he had to go to school. His mother and father had worked hard to send him to this posh school. They had shifted to the city for his education. He had to go back and yet how could he. For one flip second he felt like jumping down from the balcony. He thought about how if he died somehow everything would be alright. Shubham would realize his mistake and be taken to task. For once he would have the sympathy of his entire class, nay, his entire school. Anya might think about him too. And his parents who were seething with anger right now wouldn’t be angry anymore. They’d just love him more than ever. Thinking about all this he took an unconscious step and put his foot on the railing when suddenly he heard a voice from behind. “Thinking about a suicide, are we?”

It was his grandma.”Don’t worry, it is nothing new. Everybody thinks about that at least once in their life though most are wise enough to not give action to that thought.”. “But I wasn’t panning to..” he said but she cut him short. “I know sometimes it seems so fascinating to think about how if we die everything will be so good. All bad things forgotten, people will say only good things about you and most importantly they will miss you. They will miss you so badly, they’ll want to take back all the bad things they ever said to you. Such a rosy picture. But do u really think you’ll be present to witness all that? We don’t even know what happens to us when we die. What if you can’t stay back to witness all that. Wouldn’t the entire exercise be a waste then? And supposing you could stay back and see everybody’s grief. Well it won’t last for long. Soon we’ll stop talking about you as well. Our lives will move on and we’ll have new things to think about and talk about and you won't be able to participate in those or all the happy moments we’ll live because..well, you’ll be dead. I’d say that’s a very bad bargain.” Absolutely flustered Rakesh said “but I wasn’t going to do anything, I was just thinking.” She replied, “well think a little further son. In life, the bad comes with the good and you’ll see the bad isn’t all that bad. ”

And so he thought a little further. All his problems would mean nothing to him if he were dead and it wouldn’t matter to him if they were taken care of because that wouldn’t be his reality. He would have to take care of his own problems and do it while he was alive. Somehow he felt relieved. Calm. He smiled and turned towards his grandma, “don’t you think about death as well?” She laughed and said “of course I do. But in a very different context son. A very different context. “

Grandma and Rakesh -1

Rakesh was unhappy with his life. He did not understand this constant bickering from his parents asking him to study. He spent hours of a Sunday afternoon wondering and pondering, thinking why exactly was it so important to study? Indeed he had spent one hour every day with his mother studying the alphabet, learning to write, learning to read new words.All this apart from school. But to him it all seemed in vain. He had a vague idea of all the things he could do if he “studied” as he had been constantly reminded by his mother. But he hadn’t studied much in his life till now and he was as happy as he could be. He played a lot, ate with relish, had a good sleep. Could life be better than this? His parents did not seem as happy to him and they had much more work and didn’t even play. He was contemplating over this great question when his grandmother came into the room. Thinking that she might have some answers for him he went up to her.
She picked him up and sat him down on her lap. “So what is bothering my young prince?” said she. He related his problem to her in hope of some answer. “Well” she said, “you study so that you can become a big man one day and can live a life of comfort and happiness”. Rakesh had already heard this answer many times. It made no sense to him. He hadn’t studied much and he was living a life of happiness and contentment anyway. When he showed his dissatisfaction with the reply, the grandmother said, “Well leave all this, let me tell you a story.” A story was always exciting whether one was dissatisfied with the world or not and so Rakesh sat in his grandmother’s lap listening to a story.

Once upon a time there lived a caterpillar. A pretty, fat green little caterpillar named Moti. He was very happy with his life. He ate leaf all day, crawled here and there, had fun with his other caterpillar friends. He never thought life could be better than this. He was even the most handsome caterpillar among all his friends and was proud of it as well. Time passed and the caterpillars grew fatter. Life was as good as ever till one day a caterpillar started doing something. He was slowly spinning something. The others asked him “What are you doing?” He said that he was spinning himself a covering. They were all surprised. What was the need for this shell like thing? There would be no movement. Besides, it looked ugly. The caterpillar replied as he spun, “You won’t understand now. But you will later.” Saying this he enclosed himself in the covering completely. All the others were scared. There was no leaf to eat too. But soon many others started doing the same and encouraging each other to spin themselves a covering. But Moti was very apprehensive. He did not listen to anybody. He did not even listen to the voice inside him which told him it was time to spin. They all looked so ugly and seemed almost dead. Would Moti die if he spun? There was nobody to give him answers so he went to God and asked him, “Why must I spin this covering?” God replied, “I cannot and I must not give you the answer for even if I did, you will not understand. Many times in life you have to do things that don’t make any sense. You are a part of a larger plan which sometimes you do and sometimes you don’t comprehend. Give time more time to answer your questions. Have faith in yourself and trust your dear ones.”

 And so Moti came back and thought and thought and finally decided to trust. He spun himself a covering and soon fell asleep inside. Time passed and Time passed till one day Moti woke up. He had changed somehow. He broke open his shell and came out. The sun was high in the sky and flowers bloomed around. There were strange creatures around him. Creatures with beautiful, colorful large wings. How he wished he was as beautiful as them. And then he looked at himself. Lo! He had changed completely. He had a beautiful pair of wings as well. He flapped them once and to his surprise he could fly. He looked at these creatures around him. These were all his old friends. He flew with them and saw the world beyond his tiny leaf. He saw colorful flowers and tasted sweet nectar. He did this and a lot more. His life as a caterpillar now seemed so less compared to this. Time had indeed shown him the answer.

“So”, asked the grandmother “what did you learn?” “That I must study even though I don’t understand why right now, just like the caterpillar had to spin even though he did not know why.” The grandmother said “yes. That is what you have learnt. Now go outside, it’s evening already.” And as he ran with his little legs the grandmother said to herself. “Time always has all the answers. I am growing up with him all over again.”