What is it I really want to say?

Every night after a long tiring or a lazy day,

When I curl up in bed, I miss you.

That’s the only time I allow myself to slow down, or gives a minute to think

The only time I allow myself to be free from anything else.

Then and there at that moment,

When my brain and mind slows down,

You suddenly walk into my memory… slowly but surely

As if you were waiting for me to just look

And all of a sudden

I get this sudden unquenchable urge to talk to you

To share with you all my day’s happenings

To tell you this and that

Thou it’s just a never-going-to-happen wish,

I still hope for the same

Then there are days

I just want to have a glimpse of you

A second of your time to talk to you for one last time

But… If was given that chance

What is it I really want to say?

I miss you? I wish you were here?

Or I wish we hadn't met?

Or just stare at your face? …

I wonder…

I wonder… what is it I really want to say when I see you…? 

***

P.S. No! Not a poem… just a prose which was broken down to small fragments. 

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This was written for 

Live Life as it Comes...

Recently, happened to see the movie Premonition acted by Sandra Bullock. It’s all about her getting nightmares of her husband dying and when she comes to know that it was going to happen in real, the way she tries to stop them from happening. But everything ends in vain, as he dies despite all her efforts. But she realizes, thou she couldn’t change destiny, the tiny tot moments that we give ourselves and others were what matters than forever. And every second of life is a miracle.

There are times we wish we could change things that happened to us, turn around that clock atleast to a second so we could change all that might have destroyed us. Yes, I have thought the same for a long time. Even now at times. When I lost people to death or did something stupid or broke with friends because of sheer ego or broke that blue vase mom loved so much, I might have prayed like umpteenth times to God just to reverse time a little bit. So I could stop all this from happening. But even when I prayed so, the next thought was what’s going to happen to the rest of the world if the clock actually turned around? I wanted my death ones to come alive, but was it going to happen for others too? What about the babies born that minute? Will they go back to the womb? Shit! I cannot even imagine that, but still I want the impossible to happen.

We never know why some things happen to us. Why we fail in spite of our hard work?  Why we couldn’t touch our dreams even when we gave the best? Why we turn unlucky in a relation even when we did everything to make it work? Why people die when we are not ready to lose them? So much of whys’ and so little answers.

Some things are way beyond explanations and far beyond our understandings.

Almost a year back, got a FB friend request from a person I have seen in church. The only reason I accepted the request was it would be rude to ignore, as I was to see him every week. However, today I could say he’s one friend I become close so easily and the way we irritate each other is insane. And at the end of every conversation we ask each other religiously “Are we friends just to eat up each others’ brain?” And every time our answer will be Karma or Destiny! Ok. Now that was a bad example to quote for something like this. Still he was the first person who came to my mind while writing this.

Likewise, some questions are to be answered just by these forces. Maybe there are right in what they are doing, maybe wrong. But there’s no way we are going to find out… so just leave everything as it is… and live life miraculously with a smile for everyone and yourself. That's my two cents' worth and something I strongly believe.

Pebble in the shoe...

When I read Vidya’s blog post, the first thing that came to mind was, “Oh! Then I’m too the victim of these pebbles”. Then of course the way she wrote it. Whenever I read Vidya’s blog, a sense of tranquility overcomes me. I could picture herself sitting on a very comfy couch with a cup of coffee and her trademark smile and actually speaking out all those things she have wrote. That’s the effect good writers have on me. And she’s one beautiful writer I adore.

Now about those hidden pebbles… Yes, I do have my share of them in my stilettos/sneakers/flats or whatever I wear. And the worst part is that I know these soft pebbles would eventually make me stumble upon my paths. But knowingly or unknowingly these stubborn things just stick to my toes. 

There are pebbles of anger! To self and to those certain people who made me question the loyalty of any relation. Thou I don’t hold grudges or hard faces on them or deny any good things from my side, deep down the fact that they had hurt me once are still buried. And, I’m one of those that come under ‘I-forgive-but-never-forget’ category. 

Then pebbles of guilt! For not making the maximum I had in me. Moments, I made my ambitions secondary. Days, I was eager to please others rather than self. People I lost because of sheer egoism and stubbornness. 

Pebbles of regrets!  When things didn’t work out the way I planned and life just took me off from the road-want-to-travel to a new one. Thou it was an awesome ride, now and then some what-ifs make me look back.

Anything else? 

Certainly I’ll be able to find some more junk in the dusted closet of my mind if I ponder deep down. Been an introvert in sharing and expressing emotions, detoxifying these pebbles out of my system would require so much of time. But yes, I’m working on it. Because, been a woman who wishes happiness all-around her, I don’t want these tiny tot pebbles who just tickles once in a while now to turn into a sharp edged stone and hurt me. 

Not Alone...

Neha stepped into the campus much earlier than her usual time. It was only yesterday that she lost a parent. She was not suppose to be here now, but been at home and engulfing in grief was more than she could handle. So escaping into the cheerfulness of campus was her only way.

She came early, because she needed time to compose herself before her friends started coming and comforting her. But when she reached her class, she saw the least expected person. Her bestfriend. He was one person who never reached class before the lecture starts. And here he was now, an hour before the college time. He was sitting at his usual place as if waiting for her, to assure her of his friendship. Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eyes. And at that moment she felt less lonely and more loved.

Linking this to Jan 2014 Ultimate Blog Challenge, NaBloPoMo & Write Tribe Wednesday Prompt 2014-4 - "Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye".

 

To read posts by fellow friends and UBC and NaBloPoMo participants, click here Jairam,Kajal, Kathy, Michelle, Nabanita, Richa, Suzy Que,Shilpa.

You were always there...

I miss you.

When uprooted myself to a place which provided bread and butter to my family go for the past 20+ years,  I never thought I will have to miss you. At the age of six we became acquaintance and then best friends. When I joined a boarding school, you saved me from homesickness and tucked me safe from all those seniors/old boarders scenario. When they saw me with you, they tagged me as a quite girl for which they regretted very soon. Later on, even when homesickness rolled itself and went under the bed, you helped me to get through all those long boring study hours which were strictly monitored by the Bride's of God who reminded me of jail wardens.

Even when childhood days went far behind, you were beside me saying,  "There's still so much of myself for you to discover". We used to meet at the most sophisticated places, where I saw a very polished and shining version of yours and also among the street vendors where I saw an tired, worn out but yet an experienced side of yours. And till date I don't know which one I prefer cos I loved both.

But now, here where you could see skyscrapers and architectural wonders, where you get the best coffee/chocolates/anything or the original/duplicates of the most modern brands, I couldn't find you.

Oh! Dear Library, you can't even imagine how terribly I miss you. And that's when I was forced to turn to your grandchildren. Even thou they serve the purpose, I miss touching you. Miss getting drowned in your smell and going to sleep hugging you. The excitement of holding a new book, the ecstasy of the smell of old books, the pride of seeing a ever growing pile of books at the favourite corner of my house is something your new generation could never offer. But still I'm grateful that they are here to give me companionship like their ancestors.

Thank you so much for taking me to your world and gifting me yourself when I was kid and still pampering me as if I'm a child. You are the best thing that happened to me.

This post is written for Write Tribe's Wednesday Prompt: The Smell of Old books