I Have Seen You There.

This is one of those 5 minute poems. Stuff you scribble down as and when it comes to your head and you feel an almost urgent need to put it down on paper because you know you want to preserve the feeling. Here goes.

I have seen you there, from the very first moment I opened my eyes,

From the very first moment I learnt to let the light in.

I have seen you there, the first time I took a step and fell,

Saw only pride in your eyes, wondered why you didn’t care.

A thousand hands rushed to me but all you did was smile

Knowing that I would one day learn to lift myself off the ground.

I have seen you there, the first time my feet moved with the rhythm

Of the music that came from you, that late evening on the front porch

The sun was going down and even through the darkness I saw

You basking in the light that was and came from me.

I have seen you there, the first time I scribbled a meaningful verse

I ran to your writing desk, ecstatic, and so proud.

And all you did was smile, pat my head and with a slight nod of the head

Fold my piece of treasure and stow it away in yours.

So today as I look through the dusty books in your empty room

And find a crumpled up piece of paper, yellow with age,

And I see my first meaningful verse in my immature hand,

Or as I look through your old cupboard and I find, my little blue sock

Holes and all and my little black bangle I once loved with my life

I realise I was the only one who grew out of it all.

And as I remember those long evening walks, I remember the pride in your voice

As you showed little me to your friends and the way you held my hand so tight

I always wondered why but now I seem to know, you were only afraid to let go.

So today as I walk around your empty room and sit on the bed I wasn't allowed on,

I see what you have always meant to me and I see what I was to you.

Your little girl is back from the far place you asked her not to go to

All she needs is you.

And so I promise, you will see me here, the next time you open your eyes.

You will see me here, the next time you take a step and I won’t let you fall.

You will see me here the next time you make music on a late evening on our front porch

And my feet shall move to your rhythm again.

You will see me here on your next long evening walk and we will go

To all the places we have been and talk to your friends

And you will introduce me yet again and I will be proud

For my little hand will never grow out of yours.

And so, come back for your little girl for I am here

And all I need is you.

Midnight Ramblings of a Crazy Mind.

Midnight musings are the best. It’s just plain amazing what the lack of light and sound around you can do to the sheer pace and clarity of your otherwise frequently interrupted thinking process. Definitely makes me wonder if the deaf and the blind and the differently abled have a much clearer view of their world than we do of ours.


 Now, one of the many things I hate about New Years is that it makes me look back and reflect. This is also, incidentally, one of the many things I love about New Years. Every New Years, I have a tendency to surprise myself. I think about myself and how I was on the 1st of January. And then, I think about myself and how I am on the 31st of December. It’s amazing what 365 days of living can do to you!! You realise everything is different. Your life, the place you live, your family, your friends, relationships, your priorities, the way you talk, the way you dress, even the way you perceive the world around you. It’s like you get a whole new identity every year. Is that a good thing? To find yourself different each year? To realise that your definition of ‘me’ doesn’t seem so accurate anymore? But then again, isn’t change the only constant? It certainly can’t be wrong to learn from your experiences. In the course of a year, there could have been a hundred people you met and who made an impact, however insignificant, on your life and the way you see it. Some of them, you held onto. Some of them, you had to let go. Each new day is a learning experience. Even the worst of days teach you the best of lessons. The same goes with all kinds of relationships. Where is the room for bitter feelings then? It is only natural that you learn from all the things you did and saw, right or wrong, and use it to change yourself in the way you see best. You, probably, won’t even notice it happening until one fine New Years, you decide to turn and look back. 


Now, can something that alters you in some way without your knowing, be called change? Is there room for guilt and regret? Or for that matter, celebration? And so, I prefer calling it ‘evolution’. You can’t help it. It’s natural and you just have to accept the fact that it has happened. Now, look back and try to remember. Those small, seemingly insignificant moments in that one year that seemed to add meaning to your life then, the relationships you built, the ones that grew stronger, the ones that broke, the people you met, the choices you made and all the hard thinking that went into them. Everything. Now the moment you start regretting who you have become, you are, in essence, also regretting all of the above. Now, that’s a sad waste of a year. 


So yes. I’ve changed. And I’m not going to regret it. Maybe I’ve changed for the worse. But there’s always room for correction and I'll try because nothing in the world is ever that bad. But life’s too short for regrets. And that’s what came out of my latest midnight musing.  :)

Another Doomsday Article..

22 May 2011. 6.00 PM local time. The end of the world-Doomsday, Armageddon call it what you may. Now, for people like me who remain blissfully oblivious to all the doomsday prophesies that crop up every other year, it came as quite a shock when the infinite and mostly correct source of my knowledge (people call it the Internet), told me that the ‘Rapture’ was ‘scheduled’ to happen the next day. According to an evangelist in the US atleast. On enquiring with Google and two very Bible-educated Christian friends, I was told that in short Rapture was when God would ‘beam up’ all those who have been faithful or righteous and leave the rest of us sinners on Earth to suffer for 7 years under the rule of the Anti-Christ. My mind immediately projected an image from a long-forgotten alien invasion movie-a mysterious beam of light lifting people up from the streets, the perplexion on their faces and then the screams. Only here, the huge mother-ship that covered the sky was missing and there were no screams as such. And everyone who was lifted up was wearing white for some odd reason and all of them had a very vivid ‘Ha! I told you so!’ expression smeared across their faces.

But then again, I did not believe in doomsday theories. So it was after a lot of rubbishing the very possibility of the world ending and exclamations of disbelief at the extent of human stupidity that I stepped out on the 22nd. The day went by and I had totally forgotten of the ‘impending’ doom when a friend whipped out her blackberry (Yes, she has one too) and started reading News about how people in the US had even quit their jobs in view of doomsday and were travelling around asking others to repent before it is too late. That struck me as quite odd. Human stupidity could not have got that bad. Einstein could not have been right. This very flicker of faith in human intelligence caused me to doubt for a split second if there was any substance in the claims. Well, I decided to wait and watch. An hour later, the clock struck 6. I looked around indecisively half expecting to see people being beamed up into nothingness. Nothing. Well, I figured, maybe I took it all a bit too literally. So I looked around again, expecting people to just vanish into thin air leaving their garments to fall in a heap on the ground, just like in the movies. Nothing.  It was 6.05 already. We’re safe, I figured, and walked away with smug satisfaction, the ‘Ha! I told you so!’ look smeared across my face.

So here are two things I learnt from the latest doomsday scare. One, human stupidity is infinite. Einstein was right. There is no doubting it now. Two, humans are making a complete joke of faith. God is smart enough not to give us a doomsday schedule. In a world where not a single soul is perfect, I doubt anybody is going to be beamed up with a direct pass in to heaven. I don’t see the point in committing a lifetime of sins and then repenting on the last few days merely on account of doomsday. Where is the truth in it then? And even if God did beam up a few, I doubt he would discriminate on the basis of religion, region and caste.

A smart friend (she has her moments) once asked, “Why would God bother destroying the world when everyone knows about it?” Well, I agree. He would rather catch us unawares. Repentance would be more genuine then.

All this last doomsday did, like all the others before it, was spread worldwide panic, instigate people to quit their jobs, destroy the very credibility of doomsday to such an extent that the next time, even if it is right in our faces, we would refuse to believe it and most importantly, strengthen the theory that human logic is dead. So congratulations everyone, you just survived another doomsday! Here’s to 2012!