Some days he is thunder. And some days he is rain. Thunder more than rain. There are days when he rumbles, when the echoes send tremors through her very being. And then comes rain, unexpected. The torrents wash over her and set her free. Her world is happiest in those misty, sepia toned evenings. Now, she waits, her soul parched. For there has neither been rain nor thunder. It doesn't occur to her even for a moment that her season of glory has ended, that she might never know another one like that. And so she waits, waits, waits. There is no tragedy quite like love that believes in the impossible.

Leaving you behind is not easy
It never was, never will be.
There are moments when sadness,
in all its infinity
weighs me down
and I cannot go forward
for your memories are carved in my soul

Knowing that I cannot change my fate,
I still return to yesterdays
You are still the most vivid memory I have
Strong, defiant, and somewhat flawed
I cannot reach you, and take your hand again
I cannot tell you how much it meant
To have someone like you.

If I could rewrite yesterdays
With penstrokes and wishful thinking
I would still etch you as you were
But maybe I would color your world
In more hues than you ever knew.

And in this moment, I know
I can write tomorrows with my ache
I have in me a lifetime of bittersweet memories
Of knowing that you've cared
I wish to bestow that same wonder
and a lifetime of dreams and love
Before I am gone.

And at times I'm too scared to stop breathing, scared that I won't hear my heart beat in the silence.

Dreamcatcher

She walked the empty streets, in search of dreams that weren't hers. It had been ages since she had dreamt. She liked this life, because she could be alone with her thoughts and watch lonely people dream. They didn't know how lucky they were, for they still had dreams left inside them. Dreams of sunsets and still waters and colors and joy. Dreams that sometimes terrified her. She walked the empty sea shores, the dim-lit streets, the vacant roads, and found herself hold those dreams close. She didn't know if it was a gift or a curse.

She had overslept again. She found him watching her and panicked. Until he asked, "Been dreaming again? You look so tired!"

He would never be able to appreciate the irony.For her dreamless nights were full of other people's dreams.

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when you look at me
i try hard not to fall
but all i do is
drown drown drown
in the deep dark pools
of your thoughts
some love sunshine
but i have always worshipped darkness

And i find myself waking up
in your dreams, night after night.

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Hidden

I have not loved myself like this before
I have loved mountains, and green fields
And the stars over calm seas
Today i find them all
Hidden in the secret core of my mind
Today, i know i am part selfish, part sinner
I find forgiveness deep within, and heal myself again
I have never loved myself like this before.

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roots

When i first met you
There were no impossibilities, you said
Your answer to my questions
Was a single i like you.
And with that you unknowingly
Doused years of unbelieving
And all the voices in my head grew quiet.

For love to be love
Must we always count heartbeats?
For i have been childish
And driven you up walls
For not remembering the words we shared.
But now we share heartbeats
And something so beautiful
I believe that is what they mean
When they say your love has roots.

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kutty dreams

How often have you wanted the madness to last forever? To forever be crazy and silly. Sadly, it doesn't last forever. Sooner or later, you have to grow up. For some, it is responsibility and a job. For some, marriage. And then, for some, it is having a child.

Yes, being a parent changes it all. So i've heard. And in the last month and a half, i've learnt quite some things too.

When i think of it, i realize i must give up my madness and my fantasies. Must bequeath it to him. It's his turn now. To ride the wind. Dream up stories that range from cheesy to soulful. Chase butterflies in green meadows. Explore dark woody trails.

I have to change roles, become the responsible mom. There are a hundred voices waiting to tell me i'm doing it all wrong. Of course.

I could turn out to be the worst parent ever, but i don't want to be all this. I'd rather ride the wave with him. Rather do all the things i've always hesitated to. I mean, i'm still gonna be the worrywart mom, but i want to be part of his stories, his laughter.

Being a parent really is making the decision to let your heart go walking out of your body..

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It is that all consuming feeling of first sight. Or that which grows within you as you share sunlit evenings and dreams. It is sometimes that sneaky feeling that takes you by surprise, as after months or years of having been together, something as innocuous as a song or a look makes you realize it's been in you all along.

I am made of words. Of random lines in books and songs. Of bits of music that haunt me as i lay sleepless on moonlit nights that court my windows. And so, for me, it is as elemental as poetry. I've always disagreed with people who've said poetry is rhythm and meter. For me poetry is words put together so mellifluously it holds my soul captive. I do not really have to understand it, because i feel it deep within. And like princesses of yore, i find my dragons and castles and unicorns and delight in the adventures. I don't really know why, but my heart skips a beat everytime i come across the words. The lines are forever etched in my soul, and i alone know the smiles, and tears, and dreams and trials that it evokes. As they say, the greatest poetry is born out of the deepest tremors of the soul. It is a secret fiesta, mine alone.

And that defines love, the way i feel it coursing through me.

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The Tale of Despereaux

Despereaux had no idea he was small...he was small, even for a mouse. He didn't even notice. In fact, in his own mind, Despereaux was a giant.

I want to read this story again, watch the movie once more. In my opinion, this is the most beautiful fairy tale ever written. Every line. Something every child should read. The movie is equally beautiful.

 

 

I hope you know..

I grieve you, in odd moments that take me by surprise. It's just been a while since you left us and went your way. A month ago, i told Shyam i'd never get over this, that i'd grieve you forever. But i've realized that i can't do it. You are the reason i am me. Not the sniffly, art loving dreamer... that i owe to mom..but the book reading, literary reference quoting, brooding person who is stubborn as hell.

I do not grieve in the conventional sense. For i find myself learning to deal with death while waiting for life to overwhelm me. I miss you terribly, more for the grandchild you'll never play with. I started out with anger, but then i have known life to be unfair before. This is the deepest i've been hurt so far.

I'm past that phase where i feel emotionally numb. I remember you and all the stories you have given me, without regret, at times. I sometimes wish i could go back in time, i wish i had spent some more time with you, wish we'd fought less and laughed more. Wishes apart, i cherish everything you've gifted me. You've been there for me. For every single thing. I know now, what it takes to be a parent. What it means to care so much that you fight for your kids to have everything you couldn't. You've given me the freedom to choose the life i wanted to live, you've been there to support me in all my decisions. You've given me the courage to face the world, live life on my terms. Without having to worry what others thought. When everyone advised me against my choice of degree and career, you were the only one who told me that i could be whatever i wanted to as long as i knew i'd be good at it. I hope to be that kind of parent.

We miss you. Those moments especially, when we'd tease you and you'd pretend to be angry, while trying your best not to laugh. Your letters, and that poem you wrote me when i hadn't yet learnt to read. Our love of Potter. Our fights over my idea of marriage. It took you seven years to convince me, and you were ready to wait. That and a hundred silly things. I hope you knew what you are for me. The best dad ever.

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“The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will
never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.”
― Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and John Kessler

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