Oh, do I let that guard down? Oh, do I let you see me? Will you appear more powerful? Will you control and hurt me? How, can I let you do so? How can I let you in? How can I give my power away? How can I trust anyone again? So, out came the daggers, To attack and to defend. I would rather break my own heart, Than let you win in vain! Who do we become when we are challenged? Who do we hide within? Who are we in defiance? When we all need the same thing? Why is this struggle, to win over the other? When the actual power, Is in letting go, this struggle! Victory is in the smiling faces, In journeys to the happy places. Our time here will anyways fly, Whether we resist on comply, When the soul’s calling is true- Though we don’t acknowledge it, You home me, as, I home you!
Trapped in a gloomy dungeon. Everywhere darkness adorned. There prevailed chains, Brokenness, and pain. Everything unreasonable and insane. With all the might, I put up a fight. Depleting me of my energy. As I wriggled out of the dungeon, slowly. There was light so bright. Dazzled, I lost my sight. Suddenly, the world was a new place. As though I was born again! I trembled as I crawled I got assistance and I survived. Some motivated me in my despair. Some offered me kindness and care. Someone share a laugh. Someone convinced me I was enough. I tried to gather my strength to walk. I was feeling weak still. The ascent is always a steep uphill. I saw a hand stretched towards me. I took its support like crutches. I walked a few steps and felt powerful. As the weather changes, so does time. Those dependencies are nothing but enzymes. Chemicals in the brain create that fog. The more you want something, The further it got! But I was in an unusual ‘high’. Love gives you these wings. Freedom to float anywhere, freedom to say anything. Fantasy is a flight towards a dream. Yes, I understand the science behind it all. Mysteries, build adrenaline rush, And push us to do hard things. The ‘high’ is sufficient to move a mountain. Is this ‘high’ making me an addict, insane? In your world, you see the same stars. Awestruck, we see the same moon from afar. My mind and heart feel so connected, Though the distance between us cannot be measured.
How do I see a sameness in differentiation? There is a strong connection in this separation! Although, I love the thought that we could be together, This is but just a thought. I want to feel close, yet I want to stay afar. I am living in paradox. Maybe, I am in love with this paradox. Or is it that, I feel we are not apart? Maybe I am imagining, what you’ll be, It may just be my fantasy. Maybe I distraught the reality, Maybe I assume what is not! Maybe there is more that I do not see. Yet, it is making me the person I always wanted to be.
Someone said, “We mature with damage not with age.” There is a different (inner) devil at every stage. Today I am inviting some of them for tea. These frightened parts of me! I have kept them hidden, I have denied, Disowned and shamed them several times. For I could not do what I was supposed to. For I could not become what was expected of me.
These are my inner children wanting to be- free. So, today I let some of them be! (seen).
For that kid in me is sometimes three, It demands all the attention she missed on. She frets, and doesn’t know how to express and who to explain what is her pain? The world is lonely and dark and mundane. Where is everyone? How do they all function? What is the ‘normal’?
Who do I question? There is no one near except fear. She is expected to be quite. A “Good child”. Tired of all this, little one cries.
Sometimes, this inner child of mine, Is thirteen. Feeling the pain of growing up and changes in adolescence. The world is scary, strange and unsafe. She hides behind her pride. Lets loose the inner rebel. She formulates a survival guide. Strong face. Just a disguise. Yet a safe disguise!
Sometimes this inner child is nine. Desiring a new bicycle and a pair of running shoes. Why do people ridicule? Why can’t I fight back? Break the norm. Break their bones! I will be a Don! Dare they strike! I will kill. I will fight…! Some voice mimics, the dialog from the social script of ‘that mean aunt’ in every family, who is always critical, of literally everything! “Oh my little child, but you are a girl… You will not survive. Uh, accept that it’s your plight. For those boys are big and you are just nine! Surrender! For if God wanted you to be successful you would not have been a girl’!” My child at nine decided to hide(“the girl”) till whenever possible. Frills and frocks were discarded for rough jeans. Long curls gone just like the story ‘Maggie Cuts her Hair’. She’d defy. I am no less. I am a Tom-‘boy’! Fighting on the street. Bruised legs and feet, it did not pain. It was a matter of prestige! The scars were the pride, of my inner child.
However, these lessons are wrongly learnt it was a survival guide. It felt safe to defy, To be angry rebel or to hide. For long, I let my coping mechanism be my comfort zone. As that was what could possibly be done! It’s an un-learning time. With you, I work, to reconcile.
Today in my forties, I acknowledge this pain, My inner children, you are not shamed! Now, I won’t let you suffer again. I won’t deny, in me, you may confide. For, we are the same. Let go of these fears. You are safe, as I am here! For you, I will always be here!
मेरा कुछ सामान तुम्हारे पास पड़ा है… Those innocent giggles, the jiggling and clicking of my bangles,
Those soft meaningful whispers…
All drowning in the cacophony of heated arguments, fights and rage.
We started life’s journey together,
Today, as strangers we part ways.
वो रात बुझा दो, मेरा वो सामान लौटा दो….
Those amazing vacations,
Those breathless views,
Those turmoils where we were like glued,
With each other, with commitments, true.
This night is drowned in melancholy subdued.
ये रात बुझा दो, मेरा वो सामान लौटा दो…
The smile that beams through these family pictures,
The coffee I left unfinished to attend our crying son.
It was an unfruitful and endless wait for you to return.
Abuses were hurled under that bed freshly done!
Tonight is clogged with memories of all that can’t be undone.
ये रात बुझा दो… मेरा वो सम्मान (respect) लौटा दो !!!
I see shadows big and thick.
They walk, dance and sometimes trip.
To me, they are featureless with no expressions.
To me, they are flat with no emotions.
To me feelings are intriguing and deceptive.
To all the chaos, I am susceptive.
I lack depth and rigidity.
I lack that intensity.
I wonder why I am shallow? Why all my feelings are hollow?
Is it my numbness or have I changed into unfeeling and biased dame?
Why I have to wonder what I feel?
Why do I need to pause and gather my thoughts?
Why I need time to recollect me and retrospect?
Why I am not spontaneous, even to my own self?
It makes me wonder, what’s the way I exist?
Am I a stranger, even to me?
How can I know, what I feel?
How can I discern my own perspective?
How can I decipher my mystery before I mingle into history?
Expectations from you ever soaring.
Detachment is what is expected.
Comply not defy.
Life is a game.
Why is then sensitivity insane?
Why is it a weakness?
We are taught to be spectators and just stay.
To be simply convenient fillers.
Be the pawn in the game!
An insignificant nobody!
Too ordinary.
So, they attain sadist pleasure.
Reduces one to nothingness.
The society reigns.
Thus, he call it quits,
Exits the ring broken.
Mute.
Emotional turmoil.
Midnight cries.
Love- a mirage.
Fading smoke.
You, Chasing a fish?
Is it a catch?
Is it hit or amiss?
Are people lucky?
Or is it Destiny?
Emotions subdued.
Feelings bruised.
Whoever wins, I lose.
Senses seduced.
Strange high.
Escape trial,
Self Denial!
Don’t you cry…!
People are dry.
False promises,
Are suffocating.
Be in control.
You are whole!
Dreams are fragments.
Imagination segments.
Exist and strive.
Soul will revive.
Take a pause.
For yourself
Applaud!
Why do we call life a battle?
Why do we have to strike?
Why do we call ourselves warriors?
Who do we have to fight?
Life can be simple, beautiful yet plain,
Where we enjoy the play in sunshine and rain,
Where we can extend our hand and reach out to our friends,
Where we don’t inflict pain, in our self-defense.
Why by comparison, be a skeptic?
Why, is our reason rhetoric?
In our uniqueness, let us be free,
May you be you, please, let me be me!
Sometimes I think this fight has been planted in our heads,
To make us feel like warriors, to propel us with impetus,
Why in all this we, always believe?
Between us exist no war, neither any victory,
Here, we are all travelers,
Just seeking simple pleasures,
We all have to depart someday,
So, let us celebrate our today!
Why do we call life a battle?
Musings - An Endeavour to writing 