The Past

'You really need to start living in the present and let go of the past', said he.

The statement that she has heard almost a million times from a million different people, was again being said to her, really meant as advice. As often she was given the same advice, she couldn't help but go back to her past again and again. 

'Do I really talk that much about the past, that now even YOU are giving me the same advice?', she asked, frustratingly.

'I mean, yeah, of course, like listen I am sorry if I sound mean to you, but sticking to the past does good to no one and whenever you talk about your past, you go into a different zone and sometimes I am unable to connect with you, and the thing is I really want to connect to you but this past talk is a bit of a turn-off.', he accepted.

'But why is it such a big deal if I talk about my past?', she asked.

'Well, when you talk about the past we aren't able to talk about the present.....', he was saying when...

'But when we talk about the present, then only I talk about the past, like what happened in certain situations and you know things in the present are sometimes similar to those. Ok, tell me something why do you talk about the future so much?', she was starting to be her argumentative self.

'I am excited about the future and I cannot wait to see how it unfolds, putting so much into today just to travel to a better future, to see things that I have planned to, do numerous, endless things that are in my bucket list...', he was just explaining this to her when she said -

'But wouldn't that future turn out to be past someday?'

'Ummm.....', he couldn't say anything more.

'Of course, it will, so wouldn't it be as important when it becomes past? Or when you do the things from your bucket list, and achieve most of the things that you've aspired to, would they stop being important to you and wouldn't you want to tell everyone and mostly to the people important to you about them?', she asked him.

'Alright, alright, you win, there's no point in saying anything to you because you have an argument ready for everything', he laughed it off.

'I am not arguing with you, it's just that as much as your future is important to you and you are doing things in the present for it, the past has been important for me. My past has made me who I am today and I am thankful for those experiences that have shaped me as I am today. You like me because my past has made me likable to you. My past is an important part of me and I can never stop talking about it, so you tell me are you ready to listen to it on a loop or not, because if not that might cause a problem for us.', she said funnily.

'Ok madam, you win, now tell me, I am all ears', said he.

The Anatomy of Grief - Part I

Grief is so personal yet so public. 

The magnitude of loss of a whole person that one has never imagined, it takes place. Suddenly one day you are told that your person is not going to be here for long. Maybe not in so many words but the information is present. On the faces of every one you meet, in every step that is prepared next, in every 'next move' the medical personnel want permission for, in every breath you take your person is losing their breath. 

'Boom', and that news comes to you, a call, through someone, a medical person or someone you have known all your life gives you the worst news of your life. 

Yes, you have been given time to prepare for it or maybe it happens all of a sudden and in that moment everything goes blank. You see the monitor of life support. All lines are straight, parallel to each other. The green, the red and the other. You look at your person and it seems like they are in deep sleep. You touch their hands, their face, it's all cold. The one person who was always warm, even in the coldest of winters is now cold, 'Poof', gone!

You try to wake them up. You shake them, touch their shoulders, feet and wait that maybe, maybe for a nanosecond they come back and you can just hear something, see them smile or call your name, or just listen to them breath. 'Alas', it doesn't happen!

Tears, endless tears start falling and alongwith you fall to the ground and want to go with them in that very moment. Everything seems pointless. The fight that you had on, the growth, the success, the money, nothing matters. All you want for is that person to wake up and all this that is happening is a nightmare. But, it isn't. It's the harshest of reality. 

And then you see other people, preparing papers, summaries, certificates, payments to be done, forms to be filled and you realise or question yourself, 'is this what my person's life is worth?'. You hate it, you get angry with everyone. But yes ofcourse how can you forget society or how would society let you forget that you are just a girl and they have the right to make decisions for you now that your person is not on this plain anymore. 

The pain, the emotions, they haven't yet settled but there are so many societal things to be done. What about emotions? Aren't they worth to be felt? Shouldn't there be space and time for emotions? Shouldn't there be a greiving period where people support you without any questions? Ofcourse life is fast and there's no time to spare for anyone but is that all? 

Yes there's no time and there will be no time for everyone. You hate it, hate it, hate it, and you want to shout, scream and be done with everyone. But then there are your other persons who are here, who understand you because they are going through the same thing, your family. Ofcourse greiving process is not same for everyone so all you can do is support the rest of your family. The closest to you. 

Maybe that's how you deal with grief. You never get over it but you start to live with it. Someday grief is more, someday it's there but you don't feel it as much but the presence is monumental and it's always going to be there so you start building your life around it. 

Ofcourse you cannot let off grief because that's the last emotion you shared with your person. And you want it to be there but the pain to be less or maybe you get used to the pain or maybe the pain is so strong that you cannot even sense it on daily basis.

You keep living, breathing, existing, sometimes you smile for your family, sometimes you sit and cry with them. But all the time you are with them and you think maybe your person is looking at you from somewhere or is with you all and this is what is left of them. Us, the remaining tribe and you have to carry on for your person. As they would want you to carry on but do you always need to move on. I don't think so, maybe you move carrying them with you.

There are certain events that mould the path of your life and maybe losing your person is the biggest of them all.

The Hunt

It had been long since the lion caught any prey. 

Surviving on scraps, or leftovers and sometimes offerings the lion was full but his soul was not satisfied. He noticed that his majesty was kind of falling, the fear his name bore was diminishing. He could see his subjects passing by sometimes putting offerings to him, good offerings so that there will be no kill and the Lion would be full too. 

At first, they would all be fearful, the subjects, they came in heads down without looking into his eyes and kept the offering at the entrance of his den. They would dare not put their foot even an inch inside the entrance and that too at the time when they knew the Lion would be sleeping. For a long time, this kept on going. In the beginning, the Lion was happy. He understood the fear and command he held over his subjects. Just for fun, he would roar once in a while when the subjects came with offerings and the subjects would run with all their might. He would have a good laugh about it. But then slowly these offerings made him lazy, he wouldn't go out of his den at all and then he noticed that the offerings became less frequent and he could listen his subjects crossing his den numerous times but no offerings. 

He needed something else, some chase, the thrill of that chase, the adventure and subsequent win establishing him as the king again. 

The Lion realized. He has to leave his den and establish his rule again. 

So one day he called his trusted adviser, the jackal. He told his situation to the jackal and asked for a solution. The jackal knew if he didn't give any quick solution to the lion he would kill and eat him on the spot, on the other hand, if he let the Lion go outside and start preying again there would be blood everywhere and everyone would be scared. He dreaded the impending massacre. 

Suddenly the jackal recalled the fawn who has entered from another jungle and wasn't used to the rules of this jungle. The jackal then told the Lion about this fawn. The beautiful, dainty, elegant fawn with eyes as beautiful as the night sky. The Lion got tempted and wanted to prey immediately, but the jackal stopped him, saying it was better to lure the fawn inside the den rather than hunt it down. The Lion agreed.

The jackal went to the fawn and told him that the Lion is old and is looking for his replacement after he dies and since the fawn looked as majestic as the Lion, the lion wants to keep it as his apprentice and train him to take over once he dies. The fawn got tempted. It was an offer of a lifetime. In no jungle has a fawn ever made a ruler. Its eyes shone with the glory and legacy it would leave for its future generation. The fawn agreed to meet the Lion.

The meeting was set in the early hours of the next morning so that fawn would keep this to itself and no one would know of this. The fawn got ready and entered the den of the Lion. It was early and most of the den was dark. The fawn saw a ray of sunlight hitting on a surface when the Lion walked toward the fawn. In all his glory the Lion looked majestic. The fawn got intimidated.

The lion asked the fawn to sit. They talked about the fawn's past and the Lion told tales of his glory. The fawn expressed how glad it was to be the apprentice of the Lion and the Lion was salivating. Slowly he walked toward the fawn and the fawn understood Lion's intention. The fawn had previously faced such situations where he has been hunted or brought as an offering but every time it ran away. But this time it was different, the fawn was inside the den of a lion who was approaching it to hunt. 

The fawn didn't know what to do. It knew it was going to be eaten if it didn't think quickly. The fawn told the lion it would be better if he ate it at the entrance of his den so that passersby would see it and the glory of the Lion will be restored. The lion knew the fawn was trying to run away so he threw his paw into the air to catch the fawn. The fawn ran away to the other side of the den. This went on for quite some time and the Lion unable to catch the fawn was out of breath. But he wouldn't let the fawn run away. As it was also a little dark he agreed to the fawn's request to eat him near the entrance of the den. The Lion realized he was getting old and weak and a little fawn was trying to fool him.

They both moved toward the entrance of the den. The sun was rising and the fawn shone like a star under its light. The lion's hunger increased. He approached the fawn and the fawn saw the stone on which the Lion was about to put his paw. It was a shaky stone so the fawn jiggled it and the Lion fell. 

The fawn took it as its only opportunity and ran for its life. Never looking back the fawn kept running and running and running far away.

Until the lion gained its composure, the fawn was far, far away, and as the Lion has become so lazy he didn't even think about chasing it. He saw the sunlight and retired to his den waiting for offerings...

The fawn ran and ran and swore never to trust anyone to make it the king of the jungle. It realized its own value and kept running...

The Rainy Day

And once again it happened...

It felt that she is at a crossroads again...

The cycle that goes on and on and on, she just wants to break it...in turn break free, of the traumas, of the past, of the bullying, of the anger. Yes, she knows her worth, she knows she deserves all things good but then she also knows, nothing comes easy to her. 

For a couple of years, she hasn't felt like herself and recently she realized she missed the girl she was. the wide-eyed, hopeful girl. 

Years and years of churning the wheel, of the norms, of 'what should be because it has always been like this', she knows she can't take it anymore. She has a lot to say, to a lot of people. She even wants to but that's not how she is and so it doesn't come to her naturally. 

A change is what is needed. Change of the atmosphere, change of the mindset, change for progress. But then she is scared if it's about the surroundings or if is it just her. Maybe she is the reason for all her sadness or maybe the surroundings are. She has always been confused about this. 

A lot of thinking for one girl in one hour of one day. She shut her eyes and took some deep breaths trying to calm herself. This sweet melodious pitter-patter started and the sound fell on her ears. It was all quiet except for that one sound which at the moment felt like music for her soul. A smile appeared on her lips and she felt so at ease. She stood up and walked towards the door and she could see the rain pouring down in full swing. For a long time, she stood there, watching the rain, observing every drop falling from the heavens, touching the air all around, and then gently landing on the puddle on the ground. 'Tap', and it fell and then another and then another and created ripples. Happy ripples which she has longed so much for, to do something and create happiness out of it and for people around her but something stops it every time. She can't help it no matter how hard she tried. And then without her knowledge, she realized she is standing under the open sky and rain was falling on her too. With every drop that touched her face, her arms, her hair, her body, every drop touched her soul, her fears, her troubles, her heart and it seemed to her that all her thoughts are washing away. It didn't just seem to her but she knew it did happen and it was happening at the moment. She loved getting drenched in the rain when was little and she didn't know when she stopped doing this and she questioned herself why she stopped doing this. The smile on her face grew bigger, from ear to ear. The rains seemed to have awakened something that she thought was lost forever but was just sleeping inside of her. The feeling of light, excitement, happiness. 

She had a newfound reassurance. She felt more like herself again. She felt a little more complete.

The purity of this simple pleasure brought maybe momentarily but comfort to her.

The Longing

Oh, the longing. 

To be somewhere, where you are not already.

To be someone, who you always wanted to be.

The diya wanting to be the moon and shine everywhere.

The moon wanting to be the diya to be closer to its admirer.

The admirer lying on her terrace, looking at the moon, admiring its magnificent beauty, soaking in the elixir. In some cultures it's meditation, to look at the moon. The admirer got all her meditation fix by looking at the moon. Whenever she looked at the moon, a wave of calmness enveloped her in its warm embrace. It didn't matter anymore where she was. All that mattered was the moon and her. And yes she talked to the moon (a bit cliched) and the moon talked back to her too. And they longed to be together. Someday when the admirer might touch the sky or when the moon comes to earth and sits with her. 

The sun had heard so many times about the moon. How she absorbs light from him to shine in the night. He heard it but never witnessed it for himself. The moon saw him shine all the time. He seemed warm but untouchable, close enough for her to absorb his light but far enough for him to see her. Oh, the longing, that they have to meet each other someday. The sun wanting to meet the moon, the moon wanting the sun to notice her once. One day the sun shone low thinking he might catch a glimpse of this much talked about moon. He had heard so much about her, in poems, prose, and stories and couldn't wait to see her. Alas for 'twas a moonless night. And the longing remained...

The moonflower bloomed...in all its glory. The Gardener propagated it carefully. Doing everything as required. It wasn't a typical atmosphere for the plant, but it happened with the gardener's intention and determination. The moonflower waited and waited...and waited but the gardener didn't return. Oh, the beauty was wasted. The gardener came back but the season was over. And the moonflower did not bloom again for long. And the longing...the longing was just the same...

    

Moon or the Mirror!

Moon...what all does it mean to different people? For fact its the earth's only, natural satellite, but then the moon is the source of light in the night, but then calendars are made and festivals are celebrated around different phases of moon and then there are poems written for the moon, and some find there lovers in the moon. 

But there's no denying the beauty of the moon. Milky white, at times sparkling like the most precious stone ever, then there's the crescent moon and there are legends and myths around the crescent of the moon. There's red moon, supermoon, yellow moon, lately there was a blue moon too (some different types of once in a long time sightings). Moon, deriving its light from the sun, yet when it shines you cannot ignore it. 

When the night is approaching and you see a crescent or during the cloudy nights when the moon is peeking from behind the clouds, or in the dark, chilly wintery nights when you see a glimmer in the sky isn't it pleasant! 

Since I was a kid I had a special likeness towards the moon. It has always been mystical to me. While sleeping in the veranda of my nani's house under the moonlit sky, I used to just soak into the moonlight for hours and hours. We had our silent conversations, and my childish mind would find a smiling face in moon at times. It wouldn't be exaggerating when I say, that moon has been my companion since, forever. When I grew up a little, in my teenage years, I could relate all the love songs to the moon and romance meant just listening to those songs. There was heartbreak but then moon was my constant and there were other songs to relate to the moon.

When I moved to a new city, everything was a cultural shock. Being the guarded, Alice in wonderland that I was and still am, I just couldn't find anything relatable. It was a feeling of being lost, confused state and I just wanted to come back home. One night, I went to the terrace of my building, it was a quite night in Worli. The palm like trees were humming there sweet song. It was a night after a rainfall. Everything looked crystal clear and I could listen to the hustle bustle of the city and the quite waves of the sea at once. I sat and then looked up and there it was - The moon. My bestfriend. It smiled at me and I smiled back at it and suddenly all confusions, all fear, all worry of being at a new place were gone. The moon was the same, the wind blew the same and it felt like home. 

Then there were days when it felt like there won't be another day, but then the night came and If I could see a glimmer of moon, I knew I can hold on. 

At times, I could see my emotions in the moon. My sadness reflected, my happiness radiated, my anger retributed, my calm reciprocated through the moon. 

And then on nights when there was lack of hope, I could imbibe it from the moon. The energy would transfer and I fly, I fly with the moon, towards the moon. You could call me a selenophile, but I think that word doesn't do justice to my bond with the moon. 

Its always been a mirror to me. My me, myself and I is related to the moon.

Sometimes in the face of a lover, sometimes a friend, sometimes a secret-keeper, and sometimes just her being is suffice. Yeah, of course, moon is a girl for me. It's the part of me floating in the sky with the high and mighty. 

So you know, whatever be, be it, if I could see the moon in face of any situation, I will know its going to be fine and there's going to be a beautiful tomorrow and today! 

An ode to the Unrequited Love

I was happy...well not happy per se, but I was going on with my life. Taking each day as it came. Going with the flow. Like the wind flew and took me with it and I happily consented to it. Like the rain fell and drenched me in it, I knowingly allowed it to. Like the winter came and I felt the chills. And then the summer and all was sunny. I made it, day by day, task by task I was going about not thinking about love, at all, not at all, not anymore, it wasn't my first thought of the day nor the last before I slept. 

I was, indeed, living, breathing an ordinary existence. An existence so ordinary that it went by unnoticed, it slid through. No highs, no lows but a general existence. But as it is, the heart beats, and when you do a check-up there are highs and lows on the graph which informs one of being alive. So how could I go without any lows or highs! 

Love - the feeling that I was avoiding, stung me, stronger than a bee, like an alarm without an off button, like a train left the station, it was already too late when I realized that I was in love. 

Oh to be in love and be loved...would be a superlative feeling! Isn't it! Alas, how would I know! Cause my love was never returned. Yes I loved, and everything was rosy...pink...red...yellow...all colors...I smiled with the thought of the one. it might feel weird to you, the reader, but it is an absolute, greatest of feelings to be in one - sided love. Yes...the unrequited feelings...from one person for the other person without the other person knowing about the one person's feelings.

It is freeing, it is bliss, although unreturned but those feelings all yours. For oneself. You smile with the thought of that person, their voice rings bells in your ears, the sight of them makes the world seem a little less worn out. 

Yet, they remain unaware that someone feels so much for them. 

Oh, unrequited love, you are a blessing in disguise, because I know you are all mine and never to be taken away. Unreturned but uninfluenced, there is no requirement for any filter. It is beauty of the best kind.

Yeah, it is sad at times that you cannot share the feelings with the one you have them for but just seeing them happy, makes your heart happy. Isn't it selfish and selfless all at once.

That is what is - unrequited love. 

So this is my love letter to the unrequited love. Maybe you are incomplete, but maybe your being incomplete makes it complete for me. 

- A hopeless hopeful