ON GRANDPA

I never thought my mom's father would feature in a blog post like this. Then again, like all hopeless realists, I took it for granted that he would be there forever and never die. Reality, who loves hitting me full blow in the face, slapped me hard- my grandpa died on Jan 11, 2009. And I had spoken to him just a day before. Although his speech slurred, his never say die attitude shone through- "I am fit and fine. and they arent letting me leave the hospital. I want to go home'. In the end, he did, except that home was now in the sky.

I didnt want to go for the funeral, and yet I did. I recommend going to funerals. Reality shakes you up well and good when you see a dead body, and that I believe is the first step to getting over the loss. Also, you realise all the good things that you still have. Thirdly, when you see the number of people who turn up to mourn a good man, it makes you want to lead a good life too.

I wasnt actually close to my grandpa, in the sense I didnt go running to tell him all about each event in my life, but he is the one grandparent who I have been around the longest. We had our moments together- like him picking me up from school and both of us having lunch together; being gifted a children's bible story book as a prize for a speech contest, my piggy banks were gifts from him, he always generously donated in coins and later cash, he gifted me a stuffed scottish terrier, I ended up watching cricket matches with him even thought I didnt really want to, I loved to see him potter around with his car, his table was always full of little knick knacks, he always remembered I loved chicken and food on the whole, he wore the few shirts and t shirts I gave him with utmost pride, and he always sounded so cheerful on the phone even when he didnt feel like it. I miss hearing his liners like- "you clot." "I am fit. Why whats wrong with me. You want me to drive the car and show you?" 'Walk straight. Chin out'. "Hi sanu. How are you, thanks for calling'.

Sometimes, you are closer to people than you are aware. I think the same is true of Big daddy and me. He was a short man, just 5 feet something tall, but he was a big man in every way- love wise, generousity wise, kindness wise and he had a big heart. He is more deeply embedded in my memory than even I know which is why I broke down while saying my tribute to him at the funeral. The little bad man, waving at me and giving me a hug that only his little frail body could give. Thats the way I am always going to remember him. Love you Bigdaddy.

WITH A BANG


Am beginning my New Year with a very familiar old feeling- guilt. Guilt at not having kept at my exercise regime, at not having posted anything on this blog for ages now, and especially for not having penned any new poetry. Best of all, what started out as a dream is still just that. Am referring to my great hopes about starting a children's book. Maybe someday this year I will finally get down to it.

I used to hate people who said they just didnt have the time. How can you not have time? Time is the only one thing we humans have an abundance of. I mean there ARE after all 24 hours in a day. Of late I find myself saying I dont have time to do a lot of things. I forgot to send xmas cards to everybody, didnt have time to send mails on orkut wishing everybody a new Year, and I even didnt call my best friend on new years either. Its helps that she doesnt really expect me to do things like that and if we talk today it will still feel like the conversation never ended between us. All I find I have time to do right now is juggling the most basic duties of a wife- cooking, cleaning, washing, taking care of the kid. When somebody asks you what you do during the day, its really no thrill to reel off this boring list. People give me the look like- whaa? thats ALL you do? Yes mister, of late that's ALL I do. Its not that I want things to be like this, but somehow it is. I dont even get time to read. That kills me in a way. What is a writer if he doesnt read?

So at the end of this- am happier that one new post has been added to my blog. And while I was away at it, my kid who is doing his best to crawl, walk and sit at the same time, just rolled over and banged his head on the floor. Needless to say all his bawling and the tears running down his beautiful eyes were enough to make me feel guilty again. And for lunch am having a pizza. I know I will relish it today, but tomorrow when am back at the gym, I know am going to feel miserable thinking of how my one hour of sweating ahs only successfully burned up 300 of the 1000 calories. Guilt. I tell you, she is the one you want to watch out for !

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.

Generally Speaking

Its an awful shame I think. Everyone's favourite season of joy is around the corner and yet strangely I cant hear any bells ringing at all. Neither is the cash register at Walmart tinkling. There is just too much of gloom and worry in the air. Either people have already lost money or are on their way to losing some. Lots have lost jobs. That directly contributes to an increase in gambling and mental depression.

Personally I have been affected too. The good point about being a content writer is that you are your own boss. And the bad point is that you dont know where your next cheque is coming from. Thanks to the global recession that has simply permeated almost every industry, either on going projects have been shelved, or payment isnt turning up anytime soon. Very frustrating. Am too used to a creative outlet to stay quiet but the restlessness that is so a part of me right now, refuses to reflect and write poetry. Just wont and I cant force it.

On the home front, I have started to give my baby solid food and he looks even cuter with the mash all over his face. Of late he has figured out a way to make me laugh just when am about to tick him off for something. He puts his toungue out. That totally disarms me. And makes me laugh. So for him, its mission accomplished. I have also been able to keep a tab on my wild temper, which flares up usually without notice and in a nano second.

Am thinking of having some friends over for xmas. Will do the quietness in the air good. A really excited deep down. Its our first xmas, just the three of us together and am so waiting to put up the tree and do all the other chrismassy stuff. Our baby will have a great time playing around with all the decorations am sure. It would help, really help, if everything was happier around me. Its true what they say- you dont know what you have till its missing. Happiness, come back. Please.

Joy and Happiness

Iam a highly emotional person. The stupidest, silliest and smallest of things can bring heavy tear drops to my eyes. On the other hand, I also have a short temper. Things can irritate me so easily and so fast. I like everything spic and span, so even one misplaced spoon, or a dirty plate or untidiness can spell woe for the person concerned. So, even if I go all over the place in that one minute am fine for the next 100. Just boom and then calm. So it was with a lot of surprise that I found myself yelling, screaming and shouting on sunday. My face went red, I got seriously angry, my voice took on a very harsh tone, and one the whole I was highy unpleasant. After that one horrific episode, I sat down to cry. Cry because I was mentally exhausted, and above all very very ashamed of my behaviour. Every person has some unseen lines or limits that they wouldnt cross, and I was very upset with myself to acknowledge I had crossed mine bigtime. As I sat down, feeling even more weary in all ways, I realised what the big self help 'gurus' meant. Anger is just not worth it. At all.

I hate self help books. I hate the fact that some person suposedly found out something I didnt realise and wrote a book about it. So while class mates were reading some self help book or the other, I stayed away from all of them. They dont make me feel or be any better. I am capable of reading them, getting bored and then never applying any of it to practical life. Everybody's lessons and experiences are different. My major fuse episode left me feeling that anger isnt worth my time at all. Not only did I feel horrid but fighting the guilt was worse. It took me two days. Every time I tried to push it away, the memory just came back. I felt so crappy and mean. And I am not a mean person.

I happened to read something interesting in a magazine the same day. It talked about joy and happiness. Happiness depends on external elements like your job and family while joy depends on internal elements. I can say that I have honestly been trying to find bits of joy in everything around me. I need to stay calm, especially because with a baby around, its easy to lose your head and get frustrated easily. So now, if hubby spills tea on the counter, instead of raising my voice, I remind myself that everything is reversible and can be made alright. I reach out for the cloth instead.