TIDINGS.

"Aiyoo, Devare!" 
How can a day
That started off well
Took to bad and
Then to worse???

"Mazaa aaya" 
A wonderful, relaxed time - 
Friends, good food and gossip
Indeed a time spent well.
"Sacchi mazaa aaya."    

Bleeding, he was brought home
My son and his heroics
Hurt and gashed,
Had to be sewn up
"Ek pal, zindagi badaldi"
Charmed the nurse....all well.

Related by blood
Connected by heart
She succumbed to cancer
Was in awe of her beauty,
In and out 
Bidding a long distance goodbye
"Devare...sakappa."

 For -  dVerse poets 
Use of foreign tongues in poetry :
"Aiyoo Devare" means Oh, God! in kannada, a vernacular language of Karnataka, a South Indian State.
"Mazaa aaya" means - had fun, in Hindi, our National language.
'Sacchi mazaa aaya" - Really had fun, in Hindi.
"Ek pal, zindagi badaldi" means - one moment changed my life, in Hindi.
"Devare...sakappa" means, Enough God, in Kannada.
    
      

NEVER SAY NEVER

 

Go out and venture,

Isn't life an adventure!

Good and bad in balance

Things are bound to happen

In the cycle of life.

A ship safe in the harbour

Isn't happy to be there

Put it out

Where it has to be

And see it dare

Danger lurks in very corner-

Of our mind

Fear and stagnate

OR

Do and die

Never say never

See through your fear

And give life a try. 

For - dVerse Poets

Poetry Jam  

     

THE HOMECOMING.

WARNING: For those you find this lengthy...it is.

The plot of this story is outlined by Rajrupa Gupta - Indian Fiction Workshop.

THE HOMECOMING.

 Suicide. Dheeraj has been thinking about taking his life these days.
This seems to be the only solution to his problems. Not that he
considers himself to be alive. Breathing, living, going through the
motions, which classify as living…yes. But, being alive was something he has forgotten years ago. And, taking his own life meant easily letting go of all that he has fought for.

 He had fought hard to live, even when the chances were slim and the odds against him. He had survived on hope and love alone. Love for his family and in the hope of reuniting with them. Here, he was now, with his wife Suguna and son Chirag, clueless about the life they were living. They were not happy. Till now he has not been able to connect
with Chirag at an emotional level. Sugana is understanding and
patient. Chirag is the problem! It is like taking one step forward and a whole yard backward. Dheeraj is more depressed now than ever. Though he is considered a hero among the other jawans of his army unit, he feels like a looser at home. Life has been playing a cruel joke on him.

He walks up and stands in front of the mirror. There was nothing
familiar with the person he saw in the mirror and the person he had
been. A disfigured face stares back. Gaunt and hallowed face; blood shot eyes, red rimmed with lack of sleep. A permanent frown between his brows; lips drooping in a grimace; a scar running diagonally the length of his left cheek. The stitch marks on the scar visible making it look like a millipede. His nose a bit crooked. He looks at his hands, the little finger missing from his left hand and other fingers misshapen from being broken at different places. He now walks with a permanent limp, his legs having borne the trauma of multiple fractures. Whenever he smiled it turned out like a smirk, annoying people. He is 40 but looks older than that. He had been decent looking back then. Close cropped hair, well muscled body making him look shorter than his 5.8” height. Youthful looks with a strong character and a thick moustache. The moustache now covers a scar.

He had suffered unimaginable atrocities at the hands of his enemy
where he was a prisoner of war for more than 4 years. He had vowed never to let his past interfere with his present. And, this was
proving hard than fighting his enemy. He looked scary and people
stayed away from him, even his own son.

Dheeraj’s eyes then falls on the photo that is hung on the wall to
his right. Rather, he sees it deliberately. The photograph was taken
more than 5 years back, his last visit home before his trip to hell
and back. It had been a happy occasion, Suguna’s second baby shower. She looked so radiant in the photograph. She had decked up like a bride. The traditional ghoongat covering her head, the red sindoor adorning her forehead on the parting of her hair, the bindi between her eyebrows matching the deep orange colour of her saree. Her smile was so beautiful. They both looked so happy, and they had been. The future seemed so promising and dreamy for this Subedhar Major and his family. The house had filled with songs, happiness and laughter. She was in her last trimester of her pregnancy. She had conceived again, 10 years after Chirag. They both had decided on the name of the child. Suraj, if it was a boy and Diya if the baby was a girl. Both of them had hoped for a girl.

He then walks to his bed and slumps on it. There had been no baby.
Suguna had given birth to a stillborn baby…. a girl! She had gone into a shock hearing that he was “missing in action, presumed dead.” She had lost both her baby and her husband, until he had chosen to come back from the dead.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the calling bell.
Opening the door, “Chirag? Why are back from school so soon? Is
everything ok? Did you have a test or an exam?” His questions are met with a silence.

Chirag locks himself in his room and throws his bag angrily on his
reading table knocking off some books, pen holder and a lamp, sending them flying on the floor. First, it was his classmates, then the Principal, and now, his dad. How he hated to call him his dad! He gets into unwarranted fights with his friends because of this man. He feels embarrassed to go out with his friends. His peers shun him. He so wanted his dad to come back. But, now that he actually has, he feels difficulty in accepting him. He is confused and at loss.
 
“Chirag…I heard some things fall. Are you ok?” Dheeraj asked from the other side of the door. This irks Chirag further. He opens the door to find Dheeraj standing there and so shouts at him. “Why couldn’t you be dead? Why did you have to come back? Can’t you just mind your own business? Look at what you have done. You have ruined my life!” He bangs the door shut and bolts it from inside. He can’t believe he said that to his dad. He feels guilty now. This is the man he idolized as a child. This is his dad who taught him how to fish with bare hands in the pond; the dad,who taught him to swim; who kidnapped him from school whenever he was
back in town on a holiday. The two of them were inseparable. Dheeraj had even got Chirag an army uniform and they would go to the nearby park where they would play the game of war. They took toy guns, painted their face black and play the game. Sometimes they included a couple of Chirag’s friends. They never got tired of it.

When Dheeraj re-entered their life, Chirag was super excited. He
wanted to relive all those childhood moments and memories. He always boasted to his friends that his dad was a war hero and how he aspired to be like him.  But, that was only till he saw his dad properly. Not just his physical scars or deformity, but also his depression and nightmares. Now he was just angry and confused. His idol had fallen from grace.

Suguna was having her coffee break when she got the call.  It was
Dheeraj. “Tell me Dheeraj. Is anything the matter?” Dheeraj smiled in spite of the turn of events, which he was yet to tell her. He almost never called her when she was working.  She was so sure and her voice sounded strong, so very unlike from the Suguna he had left 5 years back. It was such an irony that their lives were divided into THEN and NOW. Each one led his or her own life all those in between 5 years.“Dheeraj?” He brought his attention back to the present. “Guna, Chirag is not at home” says Dheeraj. “What do you mean? It is just 4 pm. Maybe he has stayed back at school for his NCC class" reasoned Suguna. "He was back home early, Guna. That was around 11.30 in the morning. He was upset and angry. You know he does not talk to me or share anything with me. He had his lunch and left home. I thought he was going to meet his friends or just to cool off.  His Principal had called a few minutes back.” He hears Suguna sighing and he continues. “He got into
a fight with a few of his class mates. Hit them pretty bad. The
Principal has placed Chirag on suspension.” Suguna is clearly upset now. “Ok...Dheeraj, hold on. I am leaving now, will take an autorickshaw and will come home as soon as possible. I will call his friends.  Please will you go and check if he is in the public library or his art class.” Saying “ok” Dheeraj disconnects the
phone.

Suguna deep breathes while traveling back home. She wants to stay
calm. She cannot panic now. Life was throwing googlies at her time and again and she had been dodging them and was emerging a winner. She was tiding the waves. But, it still got on her nerves. It seemed that their troubles were never ending. It was like life was settling score with them for having given them happiness for years, only to take it back. She wanted to be angry with Chirag. She wanted to blame some one but whom?? Dheeraj? Knowing well his vulnerable mental condition, he tried to stay away from interfering as much as possible. He had also started training probable aspirants who wanted to join NDA thus keeping himself busy and contributing to the family income. He was undergoing therapy to overcome his depression. He still was fighting a lone battle. Chirag was not to be blamed either. He was at a stage where reasoning with him was futile. He had to grow up too soon and had to act responsible. He had been her reason to live and so her strength. He needed counseling, she thought. She hoped that he would come back home on his own and willed not to fear the worst.

The pain, the hollowness and the constriction in the chest…the all
too familiar feeling was returning. The memories she had blocked till now were resurfacing. She had lost her husband and she had paid with the life of her unborn baby by going into shock. For months she was like a zombie, the trauma too much to bear. Her parents and in-laws took care of her and Chirag. And one fine day, as if waking up from a nightmare, she decided that she couldn’t live in denial and self-pity anymore. Dheeraj was a strong man who never shied away from a challenge. He would expect the same from her. She wanted to live in dignity and not as a dependent. She wanted Dheeraj and Chirag to be proud of her. She had initially taken up a job as a Receptionist. She passed the BA exams privately and also did a computer course. She now was working as an Accounts Assistant in a College.

The Auto rickshaw she is travelling in hits a pothole. She comes out
of her reverie. Calling Chirag’s friends one by one, she only hears
the complaints of each parent against him. She feels beaten. She
returns to an empty house. She calls Dheeraj on his mobile. He answers immediately. But, he does not have to say anything. She can make out from his voice that he has not been able to trace Chirag.

She goes into Chirags room. Opening his cupboard and going through his books, drawers, she checks for any clue, which may point out as to where he might have gone. She comes across his art book. He has drawn the pictures of some caves and forest, pages and pages of it. She is perturbed.  As soon as Dheeraj comes home, she shows him the picture. He pales. “Guna, give me torch, a bottle of water. I will pack a change of clothes for Chirag. A packet of biscuit. “ He is talking to himself rather than to Suguna. She squeezes his shoulder. “What’s happening Dheeraj? Will you share your thoughts with me please?“ “Guna, we will have dinner together. I will bring Chirag, I promise you that. And yes, make his favourite puri-kheer. “

Suguna’s patience is wearing thin. It is almost midnight. It has been
4 hours since Dheeraj left. She has been calling him on his mobile,
but hearing the ‘not reachable’ message. In her desperation, she has made calls to her parents and to her in-laws. They all have arrived. The mood of the house is somber. Her mother and mother-in-law have finished making dinner for everyone. They are talking in the kitchen in a muted tone.  The TV is playing. No one is really paying attention to it. Her father-in-law has dozed off sitting.

The calling bell rings. Suguna runs to open the door. She collapses
in Chirag’s arm with relief. Dheeraj and Chirag help her and make her sit on the couch. She is sobbing now. The others surround them.
Dheeraj’s dad wakes up hearing the commotion. He commands everyone to stay quiet and not bombard them with questions.“Dheeraj, will you please fill in?”

Chirag is hugging his mom and crying with her, repeatedly saying
sorry. Dheeraj begins – “When Suguna showed me Chirag’s drawings, I was taken aback. It was our secret place, Chirag’s and mine. We would go there and I would tell him stories about wars and our life in the Army. Today, he was hurt and also scared to face Suguna after being suspended from school. He did not know what to do. So, he ran away and hid in the caves. He was secretly hoping that we find him. I guess he wanted to see if I still remembered, if I still cared.  He wanted to see whether I could be the same dad to him, as I once was. Hope I was able to help him. Chirag?”
 
“Yes, dad. I was stupid and naïve. My classmate’s taunts were making me believe things that I did not want to. You were my hero. And when I saw you the way you are, depressed and having nightmare every night, staying aloof, I felt so lost. I wanted my hero back. Ma…I am sorry. I so misunderstood dad. I thought looks were everything. Ma, the caves are in the forest and quite a climb. Dad did it, with his bad leg. He came all the way for me. It hurts him a lot to walk even short distances, but he climbed up to the caves. He took pains for me. He cares for me ma, and I hurt him so much.” Dheeraj hugs Chirag with tears in his eyes.

Suguna first goes into the kitchen where there is a small mandir. She lights the diya and thanks the God for keeping Chirag safe and
bringing him back home. She then brings a bowl of kheer and feeds it to Chirag and Dheeraj.

This is a part of the Indian Fiction Workshop.

SEA-LIFE

 

The drag of wind

Creates them

And watching them

Calms the mind   

The sound of waves

Hitting the shore

Is music to the

Parched soul

Does the shore complain...

Being hit repeatedly?

Doesn't the Sea deposit...

Its treasures regularly?  

What you throw 

Is what comes back!

Do the rocks grumble...

Being knocked time and again?

Rough edges chiseled

The onslaught humbles -

The rock.

The crests and troughs

Always want to

Make you ride them

  

A lot similar to life, ain't it?    

For - dVerse Poets 

ANTICIPATION.

 

Milky white of her skin - glowing-

In the moon light - seeping

Through the window

The still of the night

Rippled by her breath

And the wild beats of her heart

Eyes dreamy

The smile expectant

As she waits for him. 

For - The Mag 150

MAKE IT COUNT

Do the very thing 
That you fear,
The most - conquer it

Flying high
I dared to look down -
Let it go

It's liberating -
Though short lived moment
Still magnanimous!

For - dVerse Poets 
An attempt at Kelly lune, a 5-3-5 syllabic Haiku and  Collum lune, a 3-5-3 Haiku.
The picture is of me para sailing :) 

RUMI-NATION.

 

Stood in front of you - bare,

You know my story

You know me

Through and thorough

You never deceive me

Nor can I

Though not blind

To my weakness,

Flaws and shortcomings.

I focus only on the good,

The strengths and positives.

Eyes reflect

Like a candle

Flaming the

Aspirations and dreams

Hope burning bright

Taking life as it unfolds

Writing some stories - own

Reflecting

Replenshing

I see myself

Everyday being born again!   

For - dVerse Poets 
     Poetry Jam
Theme Thursday 

 

A BOND SO SPECIAL.

 

He saw her sleeping, an angel she was. Just a hint of smile on her lips, face so peaceful. Looking at her, he too felt at peace. A sigh escaped his lips. He softly kissed her forehead. She moved ever so little. Wasn't she perfect! He was proud, because she was his. He adored her. With an effort he had to pull himself away from her...he had to go to the office.

Many times during the day, he couldn't stop thinking of her. How she had changed his life forever! He was more grounded, more responsible now. She brought out the child within him. He laughed more, relaxed more and loved to spend every spare moment with her.

When he returned home in the evening, she greeted him by rushing into his arms. He embraced her lovingly. He could smell the fragrance of her soap. Her skin a faint pink, soft and supple after her evening bath. Her eyes naughty as she giggled.

He pinched her cheeks lightly and she pouted her lips to feign disapproval. It made her look all the more endearing. He bent forward and nuzzled her neck. She yelped and pushed him away.

"Paapaa! Your face is rough. It pricks and tickles me. I don't like it."

 Would he let his stubble stop him playing with his princess??  

 

This post is a part of the <a href="https://apps.facebook.com/425290917524532/?fb_source=search&ref=ts&fref=ts" title="Shave or Crave" target="_blank">'Shave or Crave'</a> movement in association with <a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="The biggest community of Indian Bloggers" target="_blank">BlogAdda.com</a>

MISNOMER

 

You laid down all the rules

With pride you did proclaim

Me? just another lost dame

You are the master of the game.

Following the heart and the gut

Fell into same pattern and the rut

Can't figure your cold mind

You are the master of the game!

 In your scheme of things, we - a pawn

All the reverence, now they are gone

Can only hang our head in shame

You are the master of the game

Thought this is forever,

Like always - a misnomer!

For - dVerse poets

An attempt at a form called Kyrielle. 

       

A SMALL VICTORY.

 

It was lurking in the dark, innermost crevices where there was no light. I had felt its presence, time and again...sometimes when I least expected it. It popped its hood up, like a snake, intimidating and ready to strike. I swatted it like I would swat a fly. It slid back to its hiding place and I well knew it was a matter of time before it resurfaced. Such is the power of fear.

Think positive, I told myself for the umpteenth time. That's what I have trying to do all this while. But, the thoughts that surface are way too much to rein them in. By the time I am done with one wayward thought, another crops up parallel to it.

What about the ice-berg mind? The sub-conscious mind, which remembers more than I like to. Memories popping up at inappropriate times and catching me unaware. A fear repressed does the same....pops up when not expected.

Working out has made a big difference in my recovery. But, I have been projecting my fears physically. Whenever, I wanted to run or intensify my workout, I would feel pain/ a pull or a catch in my leg which would otherwise cease to exist.

Today, I ran 5K marathon, for a wonderful cause Pinkathon - to spread awareness of Breast Cancer, for the first time after 11 months and first time after my surgery. Ideally, I should have enjoyed my come back run. But, not today. I was more apprehensive, cautious, and very conscious of how my leg performed and behaved. I was stressing myself and all I thought was to cross the finish line...it would help me regain my confidence. It did! I walked, I ran and yet, was able to maintain a decent time...and came out Wow!!!

"People who are optimistic see a failure as due to something that can be changed so that they can succeed next time around, while pessimists take the blame for the failure, ascribing it to some characteristic they are helpless to change."

- Daniel Goleman, is an author, psychologist, and science journalist.