Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Little acts of love

My hand in yours as we walk across a beach's stretch,
basking in the glory of the full moon's rays,
A little look into my eyes.. and a small tilt in your face, 
A moment shared, a happiness so known,I shall see it along the bays...

A day off from our works and fatigue, 
to stand next to the stove, an island of vegetables and wine,
A kiss with the machete cutting away the intrigue
A dinner table for two shared, as we dine.. 

To a gathering as we leave, 
I'd love to stand in front of the mirror as you lean,
To look into the man and woman that we see
in an embrace and a smile of a thousand stars gleaming with love...

A night away into darkness as I sleep,
and to wake up, to find you staring at me,
In full knowledge of the hours that passed
I know that my day is made, by the eyes of yours that I see...

In a festive swing, as we do meet,
People of all classes, yours and mine
to say with pride, that I'm your wife,
To hold my hands and make me dance...

As you fall sick and I do tend,
cancelling every other event, for you look blue
yet when you lie down there, with weary eyes : that do send,
glances of love and a strong,silent thank you..

A tired day followed by an evening nap,
to wake up in the blankets of the night and the door locked tight,
To see a light at the edge of the bed,
You, standing there, as you do give me, from the cake,a bite..

To see you gleam in that candlelight,
with the soft breeze kissing your cheek.,
you look at me as my birthday starts
to endless infinity, a journey, our life so shared..

For you to know that it aches me as I walk
and to press my feet after a dance,
To look at you as I own you as just mine,
And knowing you love sleeping on me, by every single chance...

As a day that leads to the birth of a new one,
To see your eyes water in pain to look at my strain
to wake up from slumber, to see you looking at my face, you own
now you say, A beautiful wife and a pink little gain... 


To  remove framed photographs from a carton packed
to fight over which goes where and later lighter moments we do share,
In reverse, a few steps back. together, in constant rhythm,
our hands over each others shoulders, to glance at an ordered wall...

To hug me in front of my kids and say that you love me more
to help me with my chores and take me out for vacations I love
to travel in a steam locomotive train as it puffs smoke so grey 
Like the colour of our hair, we've grown old, lets say...

Love is here, in these little things so cute
for a kiss on a wedding and a hug so special,
Me in a gown and you in a suit..
It just feels like love out of the notes of a flute...



Hemu 









Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Why oh Why?!





Oh why do I wonder if he smiles in his sleep, 
Why do I even care if he is alright as moments do leap?
Why do I never cease to think about him,
When he seems like a far away dream, never to come?
Why do I want to ruffle his hair so smooth,
Oh why do I want to kiss him so soft and put him to sleep on my lap,
When all these I see are as illusions like in a long lost nap..
Why do I feel like hugging him so tight,
When I'm there nowhere in his sight..?
Oh why do I feel like only liking him more,
When I'm not anywhere near him, by what I know to be the truth!
When my life,
Is just in my imagination and desires so sore!





Hemu 

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

An Empty Swing

 Eshana looked at the empty swing surviving the wind, trying to force itself to stay still. It was once an occupied swing, that reached the pinnacle of heights and happiness it could ever reach. There were clear ringing sounds of laughter that filled the air, around those two swings... in that lovely, lonely thicket full of lush green plants, flowers and beetles.
     “It’s our park, Eshu”, she remembered him say to her when they were both ten. “It’s our park, just for us to play, these two swings our thrones and all these plants and beetles, our people.” Kingdom, she thought. A vanished kingdom.
      They were seven when they first met each other. In a cramped autorikshaw full of kids being dropped to school from their houses and back. Ritesh. A young boy in a new city. The age when relationships aren’t given any names or forms. Just a relationship that existed.  He looked around, in a crowded space to see a girl staring at him with big eyes and curly hair like coils of springs, in a very delicate and feminine way. She smiled. His first friend in a new atmosphere. Eshana.
              “Hi! I’m Eshana. What’s your name?” Ritesh looked at the girl in the blue skirt and white shirt looking  through curly locks of hair, with the excitement of seeing someone new.”Ritesh”, he said.
Eshana smiled a meek smile as she thought of her first encounter with Ritesh. A funny looking boy with blue eyes looking around in the complete look of being lost. There was this sense of fear in his voice, a look of being ignored by all that she saw. She felt, then, that a welcoming smile was all he needed to slowly melt it all away and feel at home.

Unknown to her own self, that was the day Ritesh felt at home. New home.

She looked around as she swung to and fro. His face loomed in and out of her view like it once did. So did the empty bogie, the lonely road and the sad subjects of their kingdom.
  The road that they owned. The road that she is now left alone with. It was a road that they chanced upon on their way back from school. A new route that they chanced upon. A road full of trees shading everyone with their protective spread... With yellow and orange flowers strewn in intricate patterns of randomness. It was a road that manufactured locomotive parts and now just a less frequented road for getting across to destinations. Of all the people who went by the path, Eshana and Ritesh saw their lack of observance when they discovered what they did. An unheeded space that became special to them... With two swings, an empty bogie and the plain greenery.

Curiosity it is, of kids to enquire the context never understood. To challenge the existing. And to stand by their convictions. It didn’t take them more than a few minutes to find the old carriage car, immovable for two decades now, behind those huge trees that hid its existence. The beauty of it from, existing and the one it would take, which was overlooked by mere beings bereft of the power of imagination and inquisition.  Just a few yards from the bogie were two swings. Swings intact and in full strength to bear the growing phases of these two children.

        Eshana looked at the carriage car that stood before her. The bogie that they discovered ages back. The car that they re-organized, worked upon in making it a beautiful space to monitor their life that would pass by. She remembered the bright summer morning, during the lazing days of mid-term holidays when they were fifteen. He gazed up at her with his hair falling over the sides of his ears. Hair of the colour of the velvetiness of the dark night sky.  His piercing blue eyes staring intently at her like he was contemplating the feasibility of something. Moments later, the stare just held the look of confidence.

Eshana looked up from her book and enquired, “what?”

“Let’s do something fun, Eshu!’

“Don’t we have fun already?”

“Well, if you do have the same sort of fun every day, what makes today any different from yesterday or tomorrow? Today has to have its stamp of uniqueness and specialty. What say? “

“What do you have in your mind, Rits?”

“Hear me out Eshu! No one bothers about the survival of this place. I doubt if people even know about this spot. Until some kid wanders in search of his partner, to soothe and love and take care of, without the knowledge of his mother, no one is going to come here. This place is ours, isn’t it? Then why not make it seem more like ours?”

“Like how, Rits?”

“Let’s paint the van, let’s plant some more plants, let’s fix the doors and cupboards, let’s sew some curtains and cushions! Let’s make it ours like how we’ve always called it to be.”

       She still saw the impounding energy on his face that day. She saw glazy figures of both of them in front of her eyes, in flashes. The eagerness they shared, the books they read, the secrets they confessed, the games they played and the life they lived. But it happened in front of her now, as illusions, as desires she wanted to happen again. Eshana.

           The wind blew back her curly locks of hair… locks of hair that danced along the smooth pink cheeks that any man would want to kiss. She bent down from the height of her swing to stare into a murky puddle of water. In consecutive circles of ripples, she saw her reflection reach the circumference of the waters only to reach back where it had started, at the centre. Like her thoughts. She evaded his thoughts, his face, his confidence and hugs... Only to come right back to the warmth of it all, till it lasted. She would then feel cold again.
She saw where she sat. On the throne of happiness, that he once called it to be. Now, it felt lonely, with no one to push it, but the wind to help.

She stared at the past, looking at what once happened. It was one of the many other days where and when she ended up crying on his shoulder, at the doorstep of the bogie.  Her first heartbreak.. She cried in his arms for half an hour without stating the reason. He just cajoled her, repeatedly asking her happened to make her cry, beyond his control and hers.

She still remembered like it had happened just a day back.
“He said he doesn’t like me. Oh, I feel so worthless, Rits. Like I’ve never felt before. Useless and stupid.”
      She saw the flare in his eyes. She could see anger. She had seen it before, but not to this extent, where she can see it reflected in her own eyes. It didn’t seem like anger on the guy who made her cry, but anger directed at her. He stood up with immense anger as she slowly removed her head from his shoulders to look at him. He was shaking with anger, as he pulled her up with just force that she had never experienced through his hands before, looked straight into her eyes and slapped her across her face.
Her tears stopped right where it was. She looked, her vision blurred due to her moist eyes. She blinked once to let the two huge drops roll down her red cheeks, to look at the man. The man she saw for the first time. The man at nineteen, with fuming anger in him. She looked at him with strange fright and bewilderment.

“Don’t you say that, ever again? Cry; cry till your eyes turn red. Cry till your water wells dry up. But cry for a reason.  Who is he? That bloke who you’ve been talking about, for the last four months? So what if he doesn’t like you? For, if he can’t see your worth, he is not valuable of your tears, thoughts or energy. Why! Do you see he doesn’t match up to your standards? Don’t you see, he doesn’t see who you really are?”

He walked out, saying so. She still stood there watching him go out of there. A memory etched in her heart. She was still trying to grasp what he just told her. She couldn’t, for he had never walked out on her. He was always there with her, when she cried and never once had he reacted this way. She slowly walked into the bogie, sat on one of the many cushions, trying to give her brain a chance to think while her heart overruled.

     She then heard a creak outside : the creak of a swing, distinct and clear. She walked out expecting him to be swinging on one of their swings in fierce rage and heights. Instead, she saw him, serene, calm and immaculate of any anger. He stood behind one swing. It looked full of life and colour. Bathed in flowers, butterflies and leaves hanging from it... With a jungle look of a throne of a princess so coveted.
“Come here, Eshu. And sit here. We got to talk.”
Eshana walked in his direction, with little fear remaining from his slap. She felt if he smiled, once again, it would be lost to the earth. She turned to the decorated swing with fragrance of the flowers and sat on the swing facing him. He pushed it hard, sending it to the space less conceived. She saw his face looming to and fro…
“Look at me, Eshu. No, look up. Yes. And listen to me now. Like you always have. Like I’ve always listened to you. Learn your worth. You’re a princess. My best companion. It shocks me to know that you don’t realize your own worth. Wake up and see, you idiot. Look at yourself, weigh your value. Appreciate yourself for what you are. You are priceless as you are. Never feel bad or take pity in your own self. Got me?
Every time hereafter, you doubt your own worth, come here. Sit and swing. When you reach the acme of this seat’s ability, when you feel the wind gushing through your face, look around and realize you mean something to me. To this place. To your parents, mine and our subjects. It’s your throne. You’re the ruler. There is no one above you. “
He paused for a while and said, “You’re my best friend Eshu and I can’t see you cry for reasons deemed unfit to shed your tears for.”

She still remembered the smell of him as she hugged him hard, jumping from the moving swing, with no patience for waiting it to reach its point of stillness. His muscled arms wrapped her in a protective embrace as she smiled through her tears of happiness, being loved and cared for. He looked at her, bent gently and kissed her forehead and hugged her back, his chin resting on her head. They knew that each other’s message was conveyed across and that words were no longer needed. That was the first night she slept without any sense of insecurity.


Eshana looked up and faced reality. With a fierce ease, she jumped off the swing while it was still swinging back and fro to, to the heights she loved to reach, defying gravity for that one second. She made her way through the moist blades of grass and reached their hide-out. She sat down on the mattress that lay. The mattress that he last slept on.

It was an evening of few words. He was lying on her lap, trying to sleep. She could see that he couldn’t rest. His eyes kept fluttering, like a language understood just by him.

“What’s wrong Rits?”

She looked at him with a glance that showed she knew. And he saw that she knew..

“Eshu, I don’t feel good. I feel like I’m going to lose something I dearly love. To some abstract factor that I don’t recognize, yet fear. Tell me, what do I do?”

"Sleep, Ritesh.  Things are going to be alright tomorrow. Don’t worry about it now. When it comes to you, when it reaches you, we’ll face it. Yes of course, what did you think? I’d leave you to face it alone? Sleep now.”  And she kissed his forehead, with motherly love and care…

He looked at her, smiled and slept.

As they parted for the night, he got on to his bike with his regular ease of control. Yet, she saw something was amiss. Just, she didn’t know what it was.

“See you tomorrow! Bye Eshu...” he said, but with the same look of insecurity and loss. “Love you.”

He never returned. Mantled remains of his bike lay spread around with his blood smeared on it. That was all she got to see.



      Her head started spinning. She whirled her head back fighting tears and blackness. Suddenly, the black slowly vanished. She saw light filling its space. In the light, she saw a boy. A young boy who knelt by her side, wiping her tears. 
“Don’t” he said.  And embraced her hard, as she cried.

He then suddenly got up and started leaving. She saw him go and realized he had broken free form the embrace she loved and lost herself in… it seemed like he had to leave. Like someone was calling out for him. She ran to the door to see him go. There he was, walking towards some infinite path, in complete confidence as he turned to wave her a goodbye... A soft breeze gushed past his silky hair as she saw him smile.

         She looked up at the sky and heard something that was registered in her senses and emotions”… Until some kid wanders in search of his partner, to soothe and love and take care of….” she saw his eyes from the sky… looking down at her, as if wanting to see her smile and laugh till it can reach there, for him to hear. She closed her eyes for a momentary pause, to see him smile... And then looked out for the kid. But he wasn’t there.

The creak of the swing didn’t stop yet. It still danced with the wind as she got on to the other, to give it the company it sought out for. She kicked her legs into the air as if at some unreasonable loss and sadness, pushed herself back without any ceaseless effort, an action, she enjoyed without the knowledge of time… and as she swung, she let herself cry out aloud. Wailing and laughing. 


Hemu 

Sunday, October 24, 2010

My little boy

 I looked at him lay beside me.All his face muscles relaxed and a chest so smooth. His ruffled hair and closed eyes made me run my hand through the silkiness of his face and hair. I could see him smile. It seems like he is in the middle of an intense dream where there was a chance just to smile and nothing else. It seemed like god was playing Lego blocks with him and he beat god with a more massive and intricate structure. It was a smile of triumph and acknowledgement of being let, to win. Like the smile of a three-year old boy who thinks he is the strongest in the world as he beats his father in a game. He didn't know the truth behind his victory: the  selfish satisfaction of the father wanting to see his son win. The smile of a kid. That's all that was wanted.Yet,beyond all this, you know the boy'll melt in his mother's arms and embrace her surrendering himself fully to her. Like he did, in my warmth. That's all I saw.. A little boy. 


      Perhaps that's exactly what made me love him. The little boy that I saw in a wannabe man.Mirth danced in his eyes, evidently.. he had a risqué manner of speech..Still like an event that never happened,  the first time we both met. I didn't know who he was.. We spoke in the full freedom of being strangers sharing a conversation. He was of a different class.. of a different world and different ideas. Outsiders saw two radically different people connected by one word: frivolity. Odd that I started liking him I've never had a crush on any guy who resorts to annoying habits I so detest. I never did. But he caught me somewhere. It was an incursion which stayed in fragments in the heart of mine so lonely. Like the little boy who kissed the stranger's cheek, I as the passing woman sat down on my knees to cuddle the bubbly kid. 


    I was still in the warmth of my bed, Unable to get up as he would be awoken from his encounter with the Angel of Smiles, I lay still, looking at his baby face. The smile wandered back and forth from his mouth and into the thin curves of his cheeks. He lay right there holding my hand tight, still sleeping... smiling...
       .... like a little tot that clings to its mother's clothes, my man, held me in his arms.
I went back a little on time and thought of all the eons that he made me smile. Starry-eyed he was, of hot chicks, a prankster,an imp.. The jolt in me that struck me every single time he spoke to her., the days of jealousy and envy. 
It was a feeling that I stuffed inside me. All that I needed to brighten my day was to see his sparkling face just once.. fooling around and teasing everyone. Kid-like antics, I tell you!


           The feral guy, so cherubic... with horns and a tail as well. Boyish charms. That's where he caught me. Yet over the few of our years together, I've seen a man growing. I see it when we go out alone, a protective force all around me.. I see it when another man looks at me. Yet, when it's just me and him, I fail to place the man anywhere, I can see just the little lad. Just the same little boy of enormous guts who walked up to me in the middle of a large gathering and asked me if I liked him in front of so many of my peers! I still remember the cheers that faded out as I walked out of there. What a day it was! 


I lay and thought of it all. Saw my life go in front of my eyes. I saw those tears, ego and love blinding me. I saw the past,present and future. As they were, as they are and as I wished it to be, with him. He amazed me. With the way he talked, the way his face carried a look of obliteration about me liking him or not, the wide shine of his ardency that left me with the blank feeling of emptiness that I didn't know what to do with... everything about him. It just left me stunned. He seemed like a magical being to me. Yet, like every other human, he did grow sad and angry. As a matter of fact, he possessed the emotional level of a kid. On extreme scales of happiness, sorrow, temper and tantrums... He jumped like a monkey from one to another. But, it is adorable to look at him through it all.. For whatever may a toddler do, he is always looked at  with a feeling of extreme love and adoration.  


     Thinking about it all, questions of what, why, when,who and how never were answered when put as a question to ask me about him... He just walked in and pushed everyone else out!
And when I agreed in the pool of tears I had shed that I loved him too, after months of denial and pretension, for I could take it no longer, He just smiled. The same mischievous, impish smile that made me look at him, twice in a huge crowd of people. The same smile of the little boy who steals another's chocolates.. His clean sweep, pride and elation, all behind that one smile as he embraced me to be his...


         I turned around to look at him staring at me, wide-eyed, into my eyes. Still in the covers of my thoughts, I smiled, looking at that boy... who still looked the same.. as I whispered," Good morning.. You seemed to be very amused in that dream of yours! what did you see?"
He mocked my look and asked if I really wanted to know.. As I gave a nod, he said...
   " I saw a little lass, my dear.. A tiny little one that grew possessive of me..A girl drowning in jealousy as I spoke to another.. I saw the girl I so love.. The small kid whose heart I nearly shattered before I could make her love me too, the little girl that i wooed,. and the girl who said a "yes" to me...She is a little girl, my dear who makes me smile.. 
                                                         
The beautiful little girl who I know is a woman, 
yet to me, who will always remain to be a child!"


I closed my eyes and slept on him as he stroked my hair, with a peaceful smile of knowing... 








~ Hemu 

Monday, October 11, 2010

Unrealized Smiles, tears and thoughts! The beauty of it!!!

Why do babies smile in their dreams? What do they see? I set this up as my status on Facebook and received a few interesting feedback. One being a belief that god plays with the babies in their dreams, and hence they smile.
          It sounded magical to me.. Probably even true, who knows! There something nice about little things, not very true.. but highly inspiring. It seems very obvious that God wouldn't come in our dreams to play with us, I just wonder why! Did God come in our dreams when we were young? I got no clue. Seems like a distant part of you, doest it? Childhood?!
   We flip through old photos and realize how cute we looked back then. We listen to our parents and relatives relate our antics in detail.. Making us feel like we were the most mischievous kid ever on earth, and hey! THAT is taken as a compliment...Now! you feel happy about it don't you? 
  Probably the only time when we think, yet don't realize the value of our thoughts. Why? We were not trained to think if our thoughts are right or wrong?! We just think, blurt it out loud, sleep, cry and smile. No worries, no tensions.. We didn't create any of it for ourselves.
   The purest stage of mankind when we posed for a photo, yet never knew we did, never worried about how  we looked when it was taken.,nor did we bother when we were showed the photo in a couple of weeks. It was innocence, taking us over, inside out. 
  That's the best part about being a kid.. Being able to say what you think about people without bothering about their reactions("Oh Aunty, I think you look as fat as an elephant!"), not having to lie("Hi uncle, Dad asks me to say he is not at home"), smiling or crying whenever you feel like-both being equally adored...
    I can only wish now that I could remember whatever it was, my line of thoughts... whether God really did play with me in my dream.. or if I just smiled for no reason at all... The most brilliant part of all this is the unstirred innocence, purity and the beauty of it. Living at that particular moment to the fullest, not even realizing what it was that made us happy or sad back then, and not having to worry about the future. Past, or future, it doesn't stay or get created in the memory..
  Coz If it did, we would have strangled its beauty! 
  
Hemu 

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Rediscovered

In an unprecedented place she stood, 
with the wind blowing against her face..
curly locks dancing with the wind
and small eyes that played with the crimson rays..
that fell with a silent touch on her
Illuminating the rock she stood on,
girl that she was, saw the world 
which from its bounty, 
showed her the way to love and life.
Not holding back with any reins..
like a wild horse, venturing into the unknown lands and hearts, all alone.
Without a caution or doubt,she smiled.
A genuine smile that seemed to melt people's heart...
All that was seen behind those rosy lips were happiness and innocence...
Talking without fear and radiating fierce goodness
a journey she had, 
trusting all, on her way.. Not realizing hurt,
through lovely roads of fresh meadows, colourful flowers and serene settings.
As she grew, her thoughts grew.So did, ideas, inhibitions and fear.
Doubt of receiving true love, scared to express the affection and care within
for the fear of being rejected or laughed at,
drove her to extended hours of silent tears.
Swallowed tears they were, of the self, never reaching the earth
or another's hands...
The same path she lead now too,as that of the girl, but with a little sorrow behind her smile
and a fear in the unknown terrains..
that gripped her through lonely roads of mysterious ways.
A woman now.,
scared to break free, those locks of love.
For the wrath and fear of disappointment,
she refused. She held herself tight, just to herself..
which she won't throughout
because, 
She saw, beyond those dark and shadowed trees of never ending heights, 
there lay a path waiting to be tread on..
But with an air of unknown silence..
soon to be crossed.
With someone who'll break her heart and love her still...
A clear ringing sound of laughter would fly through the skies..
the laughter of her own self, just rediscovered.

Hemu




Wednesday, October 6, 2010

The black stallion that I never owned



Wandering as a child through the crowded field of yellow popies,
I looked at that which I had yearned for,
throughout the thirteen years of my life...
The black stallion.
The black stallion that I never owned.
He was just a few months old, with a black mane and a furry tail..He was black.
I went near him, searching all around for a person who would claim him..
I found none, as it was only him that I had seen and could SEE..
A black horse in the midst of a yellow field, He was just the dream I had seen.
The black love.. with the colour of my eyes,
a mother's love, and the reassuring stride of a father's strength,
that which I liked to have..
For, I had none but that beauty of my dreams..
I reached out my hand to touch his pink nose and feel the silk of his coat,
With the perfection combination of everything, he stood there..
As though waiting for me to hold him, speak to him, take care of him, ride him.. and to love him.
Perhaps like me.
With a soft nudge he caught my thoughts in its tracks and gave me a loving look..
It looked like he was smiling, his teeth was white..
As white as the pale moon that runs behind dark clouds...
He was perfect.
He was my dream come true.
At last, I've a black stallion. I could see him everywhere.
In my sleep, when I roam, and when I dont get to see those who bore me...
I just looked at his gaze, following it.. Paradise. Being with Him..
I was about to mount on him and feel the breeze that he could've offered...
I wanted to feel the flight on his back, with the wind seeing through me.. beyond all physical obstructions..
I felt the necessity of his presence.. for seeing me and the blunt emotions inside.
I felt through his black mane and got ready to gallop with him through the gay yellows,
full of happpiness, speed and the blowing skies,
Right when the yellow suddenly hit my eyes like a spear does a life..
And there I was lying on the dead field that cracked right down, without a sprout.. parched.
I turned around for Him, he wasn't there.
Like always, I go near him and he disappears.
HE, my wind, the black stallion that I never owned.

~ In search of the black stallion.


~ Hemu
(this piece, originally written on a train journey:
7:15pm
23/5/2008 )