Remembering...
A lot of events have happened since my last blog post. Obama won. And although he had my staunch support throughout the campaign, I am not so sure right now about him. Will India really benefit from having him around? Only time will tell. My baby boy also turned 6 months old, and successfully turned on his stomach all by himself. In fact he has become such a pro at it, that he turns anywhere.. even on the bed, which is by the way very dangerous. He makes minor attempts to crawl, and them decides that shrieking and making either parent carry him around is a lot more advantageous. I also went out for lunch with a neighbour who is Japanese. We had a good thai lunch and tried relishing it while balancing our respective babies on our laps. I also have been thinking about writing a book of short stories for children. Either that or a little book of poems for kids. I also have changed my favourite dessert from blueberry cheesecake to mango cheesecake, which is I swear the deliciousest thing to have ever graced a dessert plate. We have also finally finished up the bottle of red wine which was sitting around for I dont know how long. And baby and I are back to our evening walks which we both love a lot. We also bought our first christmas tree and even put it up. Its gorgeous..
The saddest event to have occured definetly was the Mumbai blasts. Its sadder to watch places I have gone to so many times, literally reduced to nothing or to see so many dead bodies strewn about in public places. For those few days we remained glued to our tv sets, too shocked to do anything else. The world mourned with Mumbai. As a poet, I can only do what I do best- raise an issue or pay tribute through a poem. Here is a poem in three parts in memory of those awful blasts and the departed...
REMEMBERING
1
They know just how to,
Leave me feeling so manipulated.
I want to believe that they want the best for me,
And yet that is the hardest part to believe.
They cajole me into paying my taxes,
For the betterment of the nation and society,
And yet,
Yesterday’s dregs , filth and poverty,
Lie all around me,
These things take time am told,
Yet I ask you.
If I were to die today,
Would they even care,
Will I be just another body,
Female, 5’10, big eyes, long nose,
Another name on the casualty list,
My whole life reduced to a few pages,
In a medical file?
They never once gave me an answer.
I am justified in feeling manipulated,
Just one somebody in a mass of somebodies,
My identity could have been anybody’s.
2
I sit swirling my coffee in the beautiful enameled cup.
Thinking about how life sucks,
Control from our hands,
To write out destiny in its own language,
One that we can barely speak or understand.
When they pointed the gun at my face,
I didn’t see my whole life flash before me,
I only saw its happiest moments,
And the most important people,
I merely blinked back at that,
Cold black life taker,
And realized that I hadn’t even,
Done any two of the things on my list of Must-Do’s,
Terrorism makes fools out of the wisest,
And brothers of people from different colors,
One person’s heartbeat to them meant,
Just another number on the hostage list,
Which mother would never see her son again,
Which daughter would never sit in the arms,
Of her papa again?
How does fate decide?
She merely plays dice.
Leaving some to die a bloody fate,
While others live to tell the tale.
In the end,
When they counted the number of dead bodies,
Mine was not among the lot.
3
For every tear drop that fell,
Every scream that resounded,
All the anguish that was felt,
As you held you dying mother in your arms,
As your daughter breathed her last on your lap,
As your husband breathed his last in your ear,
And felt your world break into a zillion pieces,
Not even one shard to hold on to,
With dreams for a better tomorrow,
I have only my pain that I felt,
When I see you weep, sob,
At the funeral that was happening,
All too soon.
Mumbai.
Hold your weeping children,
In your arms tonight,
Listen to their every tale of woe,
Gift them the resilience to fight,
The cruel unyielding foe.
If today be their darkest hour,
With the moon a ruby blood red,
From the heavens may a shower,
Of blessings and grace;
Touch them as they arise from bed.
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