Numb…
Numb to the core of the heart…
Past the pain
Beyond the feelings,
A silent protest,
An embargo on senses.
Self-defense,
Self-preservation,
Perhaps the sole refuge…
Tired bones
Weary senses
Seek the sanctuary of
Silence.
She just rests there
Eyes closed
Torn clothes,
Not begging,
Not asking,
Not beseeching company
Not pleading sympathy.
Just hidden in her rags
The grimy platform forgotten
The relentless sun ignored.
She sleeps on,
Or at least pretends to
She is past caring about the world.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
Friendship and nostalgia....
Yesterday I saw you all, all my friends from the past. I was walking out when I suddenly discovered a new path. The path led to a narrow lane, the lane ended at a park. The park looked familiar. It had a million memories, every corner was story. How Kiran rushed to the ATM, how Geet met Ravi, whom she hated. How Ravi could not have enough of Geet. How he cried when she left for Punjab. How Sandeep, my rakhi brother, waited with goodies from home, how I returned the courtesy. How Chabbi and I came here and chatted for eternity.
In this park Shavi and I goofed around. Here we acted like 3-year-olds much to the embarrassment of our friends.
And then I saw them all there. The ever-energetic and fun Kiran, the lovely and sweet Geet, the fun-loving and gentle Shavi. The passionate and slightly crazy Ravi. The gentlemanly Sandeep. The smiling angel- Chabbi.
And there was no end to my joy.
Then I saw others too, other friends I cherished in Delhi. Lavanya who came from behind the trees, a book in hand- so characteristic. A smile that lit up her eyes, I bet was reflected in my eyes too.
And there was Shikha, ever proper and good. With a kind word for everyone. Then came Neha, vulnerable yet strong. Who learnt from life’s lessons and built philosophies along the way. And then came Archita, in her pyjama, always mature yet ever ready to laugh. Ankita “Bhai” Sharma was there too- the prettiest tomboy I ever saw. She was combing her hair vigorously and helping her out was Teena.
Teena was dressed in a multi-colored Salwar Kurta, and looked radiant and totally happy. Nitesh was standing with Anu. “Jain-bonding”, I suppose.
Nitesh started teasing me right away and I laughed so hard, I had tears in my eyes. Anu as usual was sweet and delicate and could not bring herself to be rude to anyone.
Rahul should have been around there too. And I looked around; sure enough he was right there. A naughty smile and innocent eyes- my brother, my son, my friend. The only friend who called me “Ma”.
I smiled and joked and jumped in thrill. Then I started seeing other friends from past. Friends from Pune, friends from college, friends from school. I saw Ramya, my best friend. I had lost touch with her and God knows how long it had been since we talked. She was in a saree…and looked a little sad. “Rumsy”, I called her, “don’t you recognize me? - Its Cucksy, your friend”. Cucksy- that’s what she called me. She just stared at me. And stared. And stared. Then she finally said, “Wake up Cucksy, this is just a dream. We are friends from your past. We are a reminder that you once had friends. We may never meet anymore. Friends. Laughter. Endless talks. My dear, that stage of your life is over now.”
I couldn’t bear the truth. But they all started melting away. I tried to hold them, but like water they slipped away. And I woke up with tears in my eyes. I miss my friends. I miss the old life.
Happy Friendship Day!
PS: Are you wondering what the rant is here? I am sitting here on Friendship day, with no friends, just memories from past…
(I just noticed that this essay is very much like Charles Lamb’s “Dream Children: A Reverie”. But it is just a coincidence. I swear! He was born centuries before me to have copied my work.)
In this park Shavi and I goofed around. Here we acted like 3-year-olds much to the embarrassment of our friends.
And then I saw them all there. The ever-energetic and fun Kiran, the lovely and sweet Geet, the fun-loving and gentle Shavi. The passionate and slightly crazy Ravi. The gentlemanly Sandeep. The smiling angel- Chabbi.
And there was no end to my joy.
Then I saw others too, other friends I cherished in Delhi. Lavanya who came from behind the trees, a book in hand- so characteristic. A smile that lit up her eyes, I bet was reflected in my eyes too.
And there was Shikha, ever proper and good. With a kind word for everyone. Then came Neha, vulnerable yet strong. Who learnt from life’s lessons and built philosophies along the way. And then came Archita, in her pyjama, always mature yet ever ready to laugh. Ankita “Bhai” Sharma was there too- the prettiest tomboy I ever saw. She was combing her hair vigorously and helping her out was Teena.
Teena was dressed in a multi-colored Salwar Kurta, and looked radiant and totally happy. Nitesh was standing with Anu. “Jain-bonding”, I suppose.
Nitesh started teasing me right away and I laughed so hard, I had tears in my eyes. Anu as usual was sweet and delicate and could not bring herself to be rude to anyone.
Rahul should have been around there too. And I looked around; sure enough he was right there. A naughty smile and innocent eyes- my brother, my son, my friend. The only friend who called me “Ma”.
I smiled and joked and jumped in thrill. Then I started seeing other friends from past. Friends from Pune, friends from college, friends from school. I saw Ramya, my best friend. I had lost touch with her and God knows how long it had been since we talked. She was in a saree…and looked a little sad. “Rumsy”, I called her, “don’t you recognize me? - Its Cucksy, your friend”. Cucksy- that’s what she called me. She just stared at me. And stared. And stared. Then she finally said, “Wake up Cucksy, this is just a dream. We are friends from your past. We are a reminder that you once had friends. We may never meet anymore. Friends. Laughter. Endless talks. My dear, that stage of your life is over now.”
I couldn’t bear the truth. But they all started melting away. I tried to hold them, but like water they slipped away. And I woke up with tears in my eyes. I miss my friends. I miss the old life.
Happy Friendship Day!
PS: Are you wondering what the rant is here? I am sitting here on Friendship day, with no friends, just memories from past…
(I just noticed that this essay is very much like Charles Lamb’s “Dream Children: A Reverie”. But it is just a coincidence. I swear! He was born centuries before me to have copied my work.)
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