Life and Death

Stink of death
Hits the nostril
Some poor creature
Took the plunge
Not realising perhaps
Its certain death

We can’t see it
But stink is unbearable
More than the
Death itself perhaps
Of that pitiful creature
That was living

Life and living
Death and dying
Polar opposites
Starting and ending
Out of nowhere

An unbearable stink
An indelible mark
Life slips away
Just like that
Into the cloak of death

Love and Hate

Hate could
Learn lessons
From immortal
Love

How to hold
It all in
Till the
Heart breaks

How to turn
Away coldly
And never
Look back

You don’t
Need a knife
Just words
Are enough

Hate could
Learn lessons
From Immortal
Immoral Love

How to
Let go
And not
Fight for

How to wait
Till it comes
To knock
On the door

Hate just
Wastes it all
By losing
The battles

For in wars
Hate just
Blinds you
Fools you

Love recognises
The other
Who stands
With the sword

Love knows
How to embrace
And defeat
All the hate

Hate just frets
Fumes and
Builds the rage
To go on rampage

Love remains
Immortal
Tiny cry of life
For Life itself

At the Edge of Life

She stood at the edge, constantly turning back. They should be here anytime soon, if they loved her. After all they had promised, they will look out for her and have her back at all times.

The train was late. She thought of walking a little ahead to get on the tracks in darkness to ensure the train didn’t miss her and nobody tried to save her. She kept glancing at the phone, hoping someone had deciphered her cryptic posts and reached out. Even one ‘like’ would be the last bit of straw that could save her.

Then she wondered what was the probability that anybody’s life would be affected if she stuck to her plan. She could imagine the indifference, smirk, shock, grief, regret and blame shifting that would follow. She could imagine a little conference, post her funeral, where everyone would say nice things about her, maybe words of regret too but they will absolve themselves for making her feel what she felt – a useless, harmful, attention seeking, selfish soul – which definitely she wasn’t. Or was she as they perceived her to be?

Just then a small toddler reached for her and grabbed her collar. She was wearing a red dress, it probably attracted the kid. She turned around and saw two curious eyes staring at her. She had always attracted young toddlers attention for some strange reason. The mother who was carrying the child was fatigued and bored. Obviously, since she didn’t pay attention when the child must have reached out to her. The toddler kept babbling as she stared at it with a blank expression.

Was this the sign or proverbial straw she was looking for? The mother looked at her and bluntly asked, “why are you staring? Can you hold her please till the train comes? I am dead tired, hungry and fed up. Why is she always hungry for food and attention? “

For a moment she wanted to refuse and walk away but the child by then was clinging to her. It was like life itself had embraced her and held her back.

She realised how flawed her logic was, that her toddler back home would eventually forget her. Probably there would be a nicer step-mother in his life. But what if that person thought motherhood and babbling of toddlers boring?

She looked at this young mother who was glancing at her phone least bothered that the child was clinging to a stranger. She looked up and said, “please help me. Hold her a bit, my arms are aching.” She had no choice but to hold the child. The young mother kept looking at the phone. The train was announced. She was in a new dilemma. But the child kept playing with her face and her hair. Instinctively, she too engaged playfully. They both giggled. The train was almost entering the station. She swiftly turned around and told the mother that she was not getting on to the train and handed the child back. The young lady stared back, “why are you even waiting on a crowded platform then? Are you here to receive someone?”

She didn’t know what to say. She just blurted that she didn’t have money for the train ticket and walked away – walked away from her suicidal thoughts. She was sweating, shaking with tears welled up in her eyes.

She walked back to her home. It was a long walk. Long enough to get control back on her emotions and her life. Long enough to realise that if a stranger could trust her, if she could show kindness to a stranger even at the breaking point then there is evidence that she wasn’t what everyone thought she was.

She also realised how flawed she was in thinking that anyone could replace her to be a mother to her kid back home. She needed to be strong to be someone’s support now. Back home, everything was as she had left including the smirk on her husband’s face, ” so you are back. I knew you lacked courage.” She went to her kid who was sleeping and touched it, only to realise the child had a high fever. She walked back and asked her husband why he hadn’t checked on the kid in the last couple of hours.

He again smirked and said something on the lines that he didn’t realise, couldn’t imagine, child didn’t cry, was doing very important work etc etc and since she had opted to be a housewife so it was primarily her job to check on him and not to wander off to kill herself.

She stared back in disbelief. She knew exactly whom to save her son from – pathological intellectuals and skeptics, insensitive folks so full of themselves – who will endlessly analyse, blame, shame and do everything except take responsibility and show love.

PS: A piece of fiction inspired by a spooky nightmare that woke me up.

Our Story

It is rather strange
How we get planted
In our own stories
Unintentionally

All characters
However likeable
Or unlikeable
Play their part

A hero
Could be an
An anti-hero
Or vice versa

Characters often
Become variable
Refusing to be
a constant

However chaotic
This drama of our life
We script it
Or it scripts us?

We get planted
Uprooted
Worshipped
And Cursed

For some we
Become breath
Toxic air
For others

Remembering
Forgetting
Othering
Dying

Ironically
We measure
Our lifetime
As Time and not Life

Labyrinth

Trapped in the Labyrinth

It is often impossible
To get out the labyrinth
For the simple reason
You don’t feel trapped

It doesn’t seem what it is
You keep going onwards
While the labyrinth’s design
Takes you backward

Blame it on the design
Or the divine
There is no way to know
That it is a trap

You go in circles
Thinking it’s taking you forward
But it’s a spiral descent
To nowhere or maybe hell

You are happy
With the clever deception
Who doesn’t like
Illusion of happiness?

Who needs justice and peace
Happiness and prosperity?
The grand illusion of it all
Is fine enough

Why risk it all?
For which end?
It’s an endless
Labyrinth

Fatigued, fogged
You are simply happy
Forward or backward or circles
How does it matter?

Soon lifetime will be served
Labyrinth will be inherited
Baton will be passed on
The game will go on…

Designers will blame the divine
Divine will be part of the design
Truth will become a beautiful lie
And all lies will seem truthful

It’s an endless labyrinth
We need to navigate
To keep going
To reach nowhere or maybe hell

Random Musings

Yet another new year
Is back with the old baggage
Of fears and cautions
Prejudices and bigotry
Lurking shadows of
Diseases and death

They tell us
To hang on
To seek hope in
Science and prayers
Look for silver linings
And healings
Lost love
And musings

While prejudice kills peace,
And pride our compassion
While hate spreads
Like wildfire
Our comforts get
Traded and sold

While we lose our voice
And rights
Like Jesus
Or phoenix
Maybe they will rise
Just like balloons
Filled with their breath

Those little street urchins
They bear testimony of
Our collective failures,
Our naked emperors
Maybe their balloons display
Everyone’s lost smiles!!

#2022