Saturday, October 31, 2009

In loving memory of the dead, I shed a tear for the living

I few days back I got a mail from my dad's friend's son—he was trying to contact us desperately as they did not have our present contact number. He had a sad news to convey- his mother had died two months back, the same time my dad was hospitalized for an angioplasty after a heart attack.

We went visiting the recent widower as soon as we could. He sat at his desk in his office when we met him. He looked fragile, ready to break into pieces but still hanging on to something. He started talking about how his wife was unwell since the beginning of the year and how guilty he felt for not doing his best to save her. He felt anger sometimes for her denial to get treatment as if she wanted nothing else but to die. As he spoke, his emotional waves swayed him from the past to the present and almost consuming him in an abyss of the unknown future. The wast loneliness that awaits him without her. He spoke about how she lived her life on her own terms, being stubborn and getting her own way even if it hurt her the most. And how it could have been better if they had a chance to live together some more. Now every day seemed a heavy load to be dragged on to its end.

We went to the grave where she lay in peace. My eyes started to water. I understood that those tears were not for the woman laying in her grave but for the man who stood staring at the grave with such endearment as if she was there, regretting his missed chances to live a fulfilling life with her when she was alive.

Hug someone you love and
Tell them how much you care
Cause when they are gone,
No matter how loud you shout and cry
They wont hear you or come back

Monday, October 26, 2009

Words from thy soul

I blew a kiss to the moon
As a safe keep, for giving it to you
when you need it the most
On a cold and lonely night

Dream away your hearts desire
I wont come in your way
Cause I know its just a dream
It will perish with the awakening of the day
but I am here, A reality-The one who will stay

Eyes are not near enough to read
Heart is too deep inside to feel
A voice is all I can hear
That's more than enough for me to Heal

I was to give token of love
For the times we shared
And for the times to come
I spent days wondering what to give
Wondering if you'd like it for sure
Then I thought to myself
Love is the token, a gift by itself
So here I give, my love to you
With my open heart and my open soul

First came holding, with hugs to test
Then came kissing, with caresses at its best
Next came the loving,
With a longing for the rest

I was wondering, what would I want
When I am tired of giving
And my strength has all but gone
When my heart is weak and open to wounds
Will I get some place to rest and be renewed
Then I found
A trusted hug is all I just want
To reach out and feel warm

Summer wishes, monsoon dreams
Winter desires and springtime feelings
These all I have in me
So tell me! what you seek within me

Two cushions and a mattress.

Every woman who loves her body- please read on.

Since I was growing up, my very conscious mom came down heavily upon me for being fat. She still compares me to every other girl a decade younger to me. Come on mom, I am in my 3rd decade and can’t be compared to a nymph in her 20’s.
I call myself lean except, well! Heavily endowed on my chest and have a cute rounded potbelly.

I never understood the entire ruckus about having an hour glass figure. I loved my body as it was and have been true to my body up to this date. Every person in the family wanted me to be discontented with my imperfect body so that I could feel ashamed and scaled down to be presentable to a future prospective groom and I couldn't relent on loving myself.

Let me tell you the stories that make me love my imperfections.

Mistaken to be Mommy!
A few years ago we went visiting a relative who just had a baby. Since I love those little angels, I was eager to take it in my arms and closer to my heartbeat. It’s nice to hear their fast beat against your slower rhythm. After a while the baby felt quite drowsy listening to our hearts and so I started lowering the baby on my lap.

Suddenly, to every ones surprise the baby reached out towards my chest in persuit of its food. All the women around me looked at my big asset and started laughing.

They expected me to be embarrassed but I wondered what was so amusing. I felt like a million bucks because the baby thought I was its mother. I can’t express the feeling of joy and a momentary feeling of being a mother that incident brought forth. All the mothers with babies can vouch on how I felt. (p.s- usually very young infants can identify their real mothers through the scent of their mother)

Two cushions and a mattress !!
I have three girl cousins who are two and a half decades younger than me and also a niece who is a toddler.

Once at lunch time at my uncle’s place, I was holding my infant cousin on my bosom. She was sleepy and everyone else was still having their meal. As I was adjusting my infant cousin on my bosom, I remembered Siddhu’s daddy.

Siddhu’s daddy was a dark skinned, bald, short and stout man who usually lazed on a netted rope cot outside his house on the patio. He always used to be shirtless and wore a checkered cotton loin cloth called a “Lungi” around his waist (mostly worn by south Indian men as it’s extremely hot in south India throughout the year). His hairy potbelly moved up and down with the rhythm of his heart beat as he snored. I felt like giggling whenever I saw it.

As a preschooler, I have a faint memory of my father’s friend whom we visited on many summer Sunday’s. We called him Siddhu’s daddy, who lived in a small wilderness surrounded with tall trees in the suburbs. I remember walking towards the house through the wild undergrowth's with the sun rays beaming down in patterns between the tall trees. It was an adventurous experience for a child who lived in the concrete jungle in one of the most populated cities of the world- Bombay. The memories of those short walks are still alive in me.

His belly was an object of awe. But somehow a comforting feeling always surrounded me. Funnily! His memory always conjured up a feeling that I am sitting on his belly to have a rocker joyride. Hahahahahaah

I told my dad about it once when I remembered him. Dad later told us that Siddhu’s daddy used to lay us on his belly as infants and rock us to sleep while our parents and his family ate lunch in the house.

Aaaahhh!!!! Sweet childhood memories!!!

As the memory consumed me I wanted to lay down on the bed and sleep. But I had a baby in my arms. I adjusted her by placing her on my left bosom so that she could hear my heartbeat to sleep and snuggle my arms around her body which lay warm on my round belly so that I could sleep along with the baby comfortable and secure on top of me.

Suddenly my mom looked at us and with an amused warm look joked about me being a ready and portable cushions and a mattress for all the babies to sleep on. I chuckled and looked down at the sweet sleepy head and kissed it, feeling proud of my assets.

I have since, lent these cushions and a cozy round mattress for quite a few little angels to snuggle into their fairyland sleep and when they grow up, I hope they feel the same way as I feel about Siddhu’s daddy.

Potbelly to the rescue!!
Now this is a wacky one- I usually travel by public transport bus to the school where I work. Usually the bus is crowed and it’s a jumpy joyride of sharp turns, illegal overtakes, potholes, bumps and speed breakers. The ticket conductor has a ticket box hanging from one shoulder and the money bag on the other shoulder. Usually it accidentally hits every commuter’s butt or belly as they try to squeeze their way to the front or to a place that can stand without getting squashed to pulp. And as a gesture of decency every man tries not to touch any women commuter.

Once as I was traveling in the bus, I stood in front of the ticket conductor and gave him the change for my ticket. Suddenly as he was tendering me the ticket from his ticket box, I saw him looking at my stomach. He smiled his sweetest smile, as he gave me the ticket asked me to move near the front seats. He came along and requested a seated young man to give me his seat. The young man was peeved but did as asked. I was surprised at such a gesture and didn’t quite understand why this was happenings.

As I lay my purse on my lap I saw my tummy and suddenly it struck me that it was a bit bloated due water retention before the arrival of my menses.

Oh my good lord! God! The man thought I was pregnant. I looked at my belly again and chuckled inwards thinking about my good fortunes to be escorted to a seat in a crowded bus. Oh! I felt really good. My potbelly came to my rescue.

Another incident to mention- The shopping mall had a mega sale and I visited it in the evening when it was most crowded. I bought a much needed mug and that was the only item in hand as I stood in queue at the cash counters.

Since I was out the entire evening and had not answered the natures call, my tummy had bloated and I was desperate to relieve. I had 3 customers ahead of me now. Leaning against the counter I desperately requested the cashier to bill my mug as I had an emergency. I held my belly instinctively hoping my bladder wouldn’t burst. Suddenly the young couple in front of me saw my gesture and my belly which was almost on top of the counter. I felt a sense of premonition; I guessed that they thought I was pregnant. They looked at each other and requested me to jump the line. I went along with the charade and didn’t say anything. As I left thanking the cashier I smiled thanks to the couple who beamed at me with understanding. Once again my potbelly rescued me.