Posts Tagged ‘ love ’

You start dying slowly – By Pablo Neruda

I read this poem and loved every word of it 🙂

You start dying slowly
if you do not travel,
if you do not read,
If you do not listen to the sounds of life,
If you do not appreciate yourself.
You start dying slowlyUP
When you kill your self-esteem;
When you do not let others help you.
You start dying slowly
If you become a slave of your habits,
Walking everyday on the same paths…
If you do not change your routine,
If you do not wear different colours
Or you do not speak to those you don’t know.
You start dying slowly
If you avoid to feel passion
And their turbulent emotions;
Those which make your eyes glisten
And your heart beat fast.
You start dying slowly
If you do not change your life when you are not satisfied with your job, or with your love,
If you do not risk what is safe for the uncertain,
If you do not go after a dream,
If you do not allow yourself,
At least once in your lifetime,
To run away from sensible advice…
~ Pablo Neruda

On this Bhaitika :)

5th November 2013

For my Babu 🙂

Making a space for you, with the Ratomato, brown and pure,
Symbolizing the vast space that you own in my heart,
Which will continue to be yours for sure,
Through the years to come and part.

Babu, there I will then draw a Universe for you,
To show how much significant you have made mine,
With your very existence and love so true,
Adored, Seraphic and Divine.

With the Abir of Happy Yellows and Reds;
And the joyful hundred petal-ed flowers,
I will make sure your path is overflown with courage and bliss
where joy, contentment and happiness always showers.

I will make stars of Tyaa for you too,
And will scatter them around your universe,
I will then put all my gods next to you,
To protect you from all the evil and menace. Continue reading

The Dying Rose!

24/2/2013

Well, it was there on my work desk early in the morning. It must have come from some distance, promising happiness and joy, planted to add beauty and fragrance to this world. It was beautifully red, as if a heart full of love had bled somewhere and the love had trickled onto the flower. Painfully beautiful! And fresh as rain! It brightened my day, added more to my happiness and lightened up many people’s faces as well!

The day went by and I put it in a glass full of water. The rose stayed fresh and beautiful, awe-ing my heart every time I darted my eyes from my screen towards it, and making me happy at the same time. There may be billions and trillions of such roses in the world, beautiful than this one yet this one was special in itself. And when one such rose could make me so happy, I could only  imagine how much happiness the trillions of roses, exchanged on that day, must have had added to the world. At the end of the day, I wanted to take it home. But thought it looked prettier there. And I didn’t want to risk damaging it. Continue reading

Remembering Ram Mama..

1st July 2012
Some people have a way of touching lives; blessing others with their presence. These people need not be magicians or superheroes…. simple day to day people; who transform lives with their simple acts of kindness; concern and immeasurable care. Sometimes, a mere sense of justice in them can cause a drastic change in others lives. They can be your one of you kith and kin; a friend, a mentor, your boss or a mere stranger. And they are essentially always normal people; day to day human beings.
Today is my mama’s 3rd death anniversary and I am sitting alone in Sri Lanka, remembering him. My mother’s brother, my Ram mama was a simple human being with a family and two daughters; he owned a shop and he smoked and drank as well. But then whenever we had problems, he was always the first one to come to our rescue. Whenever my mother got worried, he was the one she would go to. May it be a mere tiff within my parents or some grave lurches; my mama was always the one to hold us all. And it was not only us; my other aunts, other relatives; some richer than him …all of them, when needed help would turn to him. It was not about money or power; it was about empathy; about love. He could feel our pains like nobody else did and even if he couldn’t help, he would find some way, find others who could. When I was small, he had once caught serious jaundice. He got hospitalized and we were very close to losing him. But then thanks to all the prayers and wishes, he miraculously recovered. He had stopped smoking since then. In the added lifetime, he kept on doing what he did. He never said anything to others, never asked for anything back; never even pampered us. He had his own ways of showing his care. I remember, once it was his daughter (my cousin)’s birthday and I was invited for the annual night party. I was returning from my college and it had rained. I had my umbrella so I reached there anyways. Upon reaching their, my other mama asked me if how I hadn’t met Ram Mama on the way. ”He went to fetch you with umbrella; he was scared you would get wet and sick, since you are always getting sick.” Later, he came back. He had carried an umbrella for me but hadn’t bothered to take his raincoat and while searching for me on his motorcycle; had managed to get drenched completely. Continue reading

While Tossing and Turning..

8th June 2012

Its 12:30 midnight. I switch off my kindle and decide to sleep then. I turn off my lights and climb onto my bed; inside the canopy of mosquito net. I say my prayers and lie down; hug my pillows and turn around. But me eyes are wide awake.

My mind is still somewhere in Lusitania, trapped in faraway galaxy with Pipo and Novinha caught in their fierce argument on Xenobiology. I wonder why Pipo would let Novinha take the test. Pointless, I sigh and try to keep the “Speaker for the dead” thoughts away from my mind. “I will be reading it again tomorrow anyways, I tell myself. I need to sleep now”, I decide. But my sleep probably got lost in the galaxy, fantasized by Orson Scott; because it’s just not coming to me. I turn around and his thoughts barge into my head in a lightspeed manner. Not Orson Scott, of course! “He must be studying, does he have exams tomorrow”, I muse. I check time, its 1 am here.  “So it’s already 1:15 there, he must have gone to bed,” I tell myself. “Could he be awake now, could he be thinking about me” my heart wonders. “Stupid heart always thinking out of the way and getting itself into trouble” I scold myself. But it doesn’t stop there. The train of thoughts links itself to memories from my sub-conscious and I find myself thinking about the things he said, things I wanted him to say but he didn’t say. Expectations announce themselves in my mind, only to be swiftly replaced by deep disappoints. “Should not expect from others,” I remind myself, teary-eyed by now. “Does this ever end?” I ask myself aloud. “It would have if you had let it” adds my over smart brain chastising my stupid heart. And the accusations and defenses go on for some time.

I should think about something else, I decide and turn around sniffing into the darkness, wiping my wet eyes with my blanket.  My mind turns over inevitably then and I find myself going through the skype conversations with my family. The things they said today; I replay all the conversation over and over in my mind.  My father’s usual questions, my mother’s instructions and cautious words , my babu’s  jokes and funny comments with my usual mindless chattering; the usual skype conversation as we try to make up for the miles long distance and 24 hours in the 1 hour video chat. I also ponder over the unsaid things, their expressions and pray to god to keep my family safe. Then, the gnawing feeling is back; the feeling of missing your loved ones.

A few mosquitoes decide to barge in and sing to me then. I curse them and sit up and manage to send one to heaven. A distraction just in time! I flip the pillows. It is always cooler on the other side. The fan is still circulating at full speed. Its 2:30 am by now. I sigh and tell myself that I have only 2 hours to sleep now. That drives my thoughts towards my work. My achievements, my targets and myself assessments take over my thoughts now, as I assess my actions, interactions.  The whole report plays out in my mind in the Microsoft format then. I make plans for the next day and mental notes of the things I should finish. All sorts of bright, promising ideas take shape in the darkness of night then as I keep thinking about my work. Continue reading

Dear Daddy!

May 31, 2012

Dear daddy,

I can read minds; at least I can read yours. It’s not difficult when you love someone so much. I love you daddy, you know I do. Maybe not as much as you love me, but in my own way; I love you a lot. I love you so much so that my heart aches. It is not easy staying away from you in Sri Lanka.I know I scold you everytime you say you miss me. Everytime you say that your life is difficult without me; I accuse you making me weak.  Everytime you say that I cannot take care of myself, I argue that you are being impossibly possessive. But , in truth, I miss you more. I miss everything about you, your big loud “HAHA”s, your big warm eyes; your heart warming smile. I miss our shopping trips, where I always exceed our shopping agreement; and how you ask me to lie to Mamu about the actual prices and still despite our efforts she says “chori-choralai kuiyiine gari bigarna laagisakyo” ; our conspiracies, debates and heated disagreements. I miss your reactions after I do everything that you ask me not to do and  I even miss banging door on your face after our stupid fights daddy. I miss the way you shield us, babu and I, from everything; and the way you pamper us. The way you say “kids don’t need to know this” and how you always almost never let me grow up. People say I am immature, and I know it is partially true; all thanks to you. But I love you daddy.

I get mad at you at times, many times actually because of these very reasons. I want to be independent, free but you always want me near, clinging to you. With all our differences; your everlasting cynicism and my undying optimism; you trying to protect me, control me every time  and me opposing you at every step; I love you. There are things that we will never agree; since you are stubborn and I happen to take right after you in stubbornness , I know that no one can or will ever love me like you do. You have always protected me, kept me safe from everything and even when I am here you won’t give up in your pursuit. Continue reading

A silent understanding:)

I am doing the dishes;

Lifehouse is playing in the background;

I am lost in the “everything”;

And you come around hesitating;

Give that smile of yours;

Meekly , slowly talk about others;

I can read your mind ;

I know what is going inside;

But still you talk about this and that;

Without giving the issue a start;

Tell me “Fuchii, did you like the photo?”

I laugh inside and say “of course, it is awesome keto”

And we again talk this and that; here and there;

Never uttering  a word, into facebook you disappear;

I am you sister, been with you for 17 years;

I understand all the meanings of your smiles, needs and tears;

I love you so much Babu, so much so;

And you love me too, without much ado;

Neither do you need to tell me that nor do I;

That we are siblings cum friends cum soulmates, dear bhai;

I know “Thankyou”s and “I love you”s, you will never say;

But the love and trust don’t need them, they always stay;

And then I reach the office, open fb and guess what I see;

Something that knew without your saying , a wallpost  “thankss Fuchhii”!!!