of broken mirrors…

I am back after the painfully long hiatus. I hope all is well at your end! Being busy with work and handling alter personalities & their data keeping and working in the odd shifts, this time I really had to make time and efforts to write something. Been struggling with some physical troubles with an arm in the sling and all. Anyhow, life goes on!


Something happened on Friday that has stuck in my heart like a broken glass in barefoot. It’s my mirror. Someone who knew everything about me…who was close to me even more than my best friend. The mirror I carried for the last 12 years – not to look at but to look into, broke on Friday. My cousin brother broke the mirror by mistake. I shouldn’t have felt bad about it considering that he has the tendency to break things – accidentally. When it happened, I really acted cool. I didn’t lose temper and I didn’t utter a word. Despite my usual temperamental self, I didn’t react or overreact to the whole situation avoiding the guilt factor on his part. Let’s face it, to others, it’s just a mirror!

So, this mirror was extremely close to my heart for some special reasons. It wasn’t made of some special material or wasn’t a gift from a special someone, still I feel like I have lost a loved one!

We all have this one person/moment/thing/memory from our lowest phase that we have to be thankful for. This mirror for me, represented my victory over my low phase in life. Some things happened with me (story for some other day!) I brought myself to socially acceptable condition with help of only two things – my willpower and this mirror. I used to talk to myself in it. No matter how childish and unnatural it sounds now, I have gained a lot through those self talks. I used to laugh and cry and cheer myself up with help of the mirror when I had the excruciating feeling of being left behind.

Another reason why I feel I should write about the mirror here is, how strong I feel right now, despite losing my only secret-keeper. As much as sad and frustrated I feel about the fact that I’m not really worried that I am all alone again! I only feel that I no longer have the solo witness to my struggles but I am thinking positive about it. These changes are new and unknown to my nature of getting sinking feelings and feeling lost and everything of that sort. Just as a test, I tried to narrate my story to the Guy and he said, I’ll make your mirror as good as new! What he meant by that I don’t know. But, now I know where this positivity is seeping in me from!

Advertisements

The Sense of Touch…

(Note: This is my first post ever, to have won any kind of award. I had written it for IndiBlogger’s Parachute Body Lotion Competition! *thank you, thank you*)

He walked into the room to the flowing white curtains and fresh ocean mist hitting every corner of their carefully designed love nest. Early summer mornings…how he missed that freshness of air and warmth of their favorite spot in the room – the French window. She was so adamant on having one in their bedroom, from where she could keep on gazing at the ocean for hours. Her go-to place, her hiding spot, her haven! It was that spot of the house where she spent most of her time with her favorite white lilies and pampering herself with her beauty routine. He knew exactly where to find her, whenever she was upset and off-color! Slowly and unwillingly he fell in love with that French window himself.

The mere gaze at that window brought back her smell – the smell of her favorite body lotion. How he missed it, her smell, her touch, the smoothness of her skin and her lively existence! His eyes started wandering along with his mind, in search of that long lost touch. He looked back at the bed and saw her sleeping peacefully – like a baby. Unfazed, unaffected from the outside world and unaware! Yes, unaware of her surroundings and his presence! She had not shown any signs of recognition for him for the two years now. As if he didn’t exist anymore. Did he become so unlovable? Was he so unwanted? The doctors said it was temporary, early signs of Alzheimer’s. They started medications to bring back her sensory functions and the warmth in her eyes that evoked every time he touched her.

He sat next to her on the bed and woke her up for the morning coffee routine. Brought out the Memory Box from the bedside table that contained the stuff he stored for her. That stuff was nothing but the memories that he could hold on to revisit various junctures of their lives. It was his only solace when he really missed her even when she was right next to him. He handed over her Parachute Body Lotion from the box in a hope that she will recognize it by the feel of the touch. A few days back, he saw an advert on TV about the Parachute #BringBackTheTouch. How could he forget how much she loved the product? How could she forget the way it made her glowing skin smooth and supple?

He decided something to himself and talked to her doctor for a fight to bring her back to him. He once wanted to see her smile mischievously when he touched her. Not for him, bur for her! It was this advert he loved and was sure would win her over:  

He knew time was slipping away and his elicitation of memories was not enough to make her realize how he missed her. He was falling short of the ways to bring her back to the reality. The video ended with this storm of thoughts and when he was done playing the advert, he looked at her, only to find her eyes welling up. She looked at him and he knew something was different. So familiar yet distant!

He instantly knew that she was feeling what he wanted to convey, no matter if it was for a splitting moment but he brought her back! The sense of touch, the smell of Parachute and his endless love won today, after all!

Introspection to Retrospection

Life is full of surprises – this isn’t a clichéd quote anymore. I have always been astonished by its beauty in both shining lights and darkest hours. Life is beautiful. No matter how hard, cruel and powerful it hits, it definitely leaves you with an inseparable companion – experience!

I have been keeping unwell since 1st of August! No surprises, I had too much time to think, contemplate and most importantly, procrastinate! I did everything but contemplate, needless to say! Today on my way to office, however, I realized (read: got enlightened) some marvelous things I thought of in the past 10 days. Dwelling in the past has always been my weak point, especially when I am vulnerable. In similar situation, I was thinking about the random feelings of the past that I have lost touch so far. I thought of listing all the things that I did or didn’t do at some point, which I am going to regret when I am old. I also thought of creating a solid plan for my future, with the guy.

All in all, it was a forced yet constructive hiatus on the professional front. A much needed break. A break that I contemplated for long and procrastinated for the past six months. It was actually the life’s way of putting a break on the pace of my thoughts and plans, I suppose.

In the next few posts, I plan to write more plans and lists of the things I thought and things that caught my attention in these 10 days. Let’s hope I stop procrastinating and start writing – once and for all!

Time Out…

Has anyone of you gone through this phase when you can’t stand even one social commitment? No office, no boss, no team meetings and no fake smiles? I have. I do. All the time. So, this post is derived from the same phase, triggered by my week long illness and months long hiatus from the blog.

I have come to this stage where I no longer feel the need to apologize for my absence as it has become the most consistent. A lot has been going on in my life since past few months. I am preparing for the civil service exam, absent from my regular day job (writing) and fighting with my own mood swings. And, that’s a lot!

So, this one is my time out post, where I don’t need to fake, pretend to be happy or seek approval from others for what I say. And I am really happy about it. I just want to breathe and be happy about it. I have to say though that I missed being here. Amidst all the hustle bustle that the life has become now a days, I really am missing out on the simple joys of life. Bad! Very Bad.

Nevertheless, the best news is, I am working on my new website, which is a great thing. Isn’t it? So, wish me luck!

Cheers to all!

Stay blessed…

(p.s. In case nobody noticed, I changed my blog theme! Yay…)

death you are a poem…

I don’t know why I get distraught by the news of deaths. It doesn’t matter if I knew those dying personally or they were related to me, or the fact that I have never even met them. Every time I hear about their exit to the outer worlds, I get depressed. This depression has nothing to do with my ‘fear of death’ as much as the way I feel connected to the mourners. I don’t know why! Be it an acquaintance that died of cancer leaving a 10 year son behind or the new Union Minister of the country dying in a car accident. I feel deep pain and sadness for unknown yet obvious reasons. Even today, as I go through this motley of sadness that surrounds death, I would like to present the complete poem.

It is written by my most favorite Indian, Writer, Poet, Filmmaker, Gulzar. I first came across this in the famous Hindi Movie – Anand. The second time I heard it when The Guy was mumbling it a few days back. It’s the words like this that give you real solace, when your heart seeks peace and the mind gets cloudy. They might not give you all the hope, but they surely enlighten your views about life and death. As I leave you with this poem, I hope that my next post will be far more cheerful and inspiring and far more positive than the recent ones! Along with the original script, I am also providing its translation for easy understanding.

Poem:

मौत तू एक कविता है,
मुझसे एक कविता का वादा है मिलेगी मुझको

डूबती नब्ज़ों में जब दर्द को नींद आने लगे
ज़र्द सा चेहरा लिये जब चांद उफक तक पहुचे
दिन अभी पानी में हो, रात किनारे के करीब
ना अंधेरा ना उजाला हो, ना अभी रात ना दिन

जिस्म जब ख़त्म हो और रूह को जब साँस आऐ
मुझसे एक कविता का वादा है मिलेगी मुझको

 

Translation:

Death you are a poem…
A poem has made me a promise she shall meet me…

When drowning pulse will make the pain to feel sleepy
When the Moon, carrying her golden face will reach the horizon
When days will still be in the water and night close to the shores
There won’t yet be the darkness, neither light, nor night, or day

When the body will be gone and soul will get enlightened
A poem has made me a promise she shall meet me…