A feeling..

Till the day I could touch you, you were a person, the reason why I exist. Your words actually came from your mouth and reached my ears. I could see you smile and frown. Your tears we real, they fell on your lap, where I rested my head. You had a smell, unique to you. Your skin was forming wrinkles, just a little bit. I could run the comb through your hair. I could say something to you and you would respond. Even if I was not physically with you all the time you existed physically somewhere near me. You made food that I savored all my growing years. You taught me tips and tricks. You uttered words that helped me change course. It was all there. It was all real.

Now… You are a feeling!

I have to imagine your face to remember the wrinkles. I close my eyes and try to catch your smell, and I don’t get it. Your hands, I have to press hard on my grey matter to remember the feel. Your lap.. your hair.. your smile.. there are no tears I can see. I see no pain which is a good thing. I can talk endlessly, I know you are listening, but I don’t hear a response. I know for a fact that you are watching me, but there is no guidance for course correction. I am unsure of so many things in my life, and you are not there to assure me. Weren’t you supposed to be around. Did you know that our time would end right when it did? And how is it fair? I did not know and I did not sign up for it.

So in a way you cheated.

I don’t like being part of conversations where others talk about the living breathing versions of you. They casually talk about how they got a piece of advice or how they are not demanding or how they got a call the last evening or how they told them what to do and so on. I hate it. Why don’t I have you around me? I try to feel you, when I hug a friend’s mother. I hold on for a minute longer to see if I can feel you. In the salon when the stylist washes my hair, she massages my scalp, maybe like you did? When friends talk to me about their everyday conversations like normal, every time a sharp knife passes through me. I don’t have anything to say, why not? I don’t like saying ‘my mom used to’.. because now you are a feeling..

Close the door…

At the end of the year

The doors are closing in

There is that little gap

Which will close soon

I need to

Pick my arms and legs

Lift my head

Look forward

And run

Before it closes

Yes

The finger refuses to move

What is this weight

Gluing me to the ground

I want to get up

I want to run

It’s in the mind

It’s all in the mind

Maybe there is no door

Maybe nothing is closing in

It’s probably my mind

Playing games

Stop

Stop now

Set me free

From your vicious circle of thoughts

Set me free from these bonds

From words

Let there be silence

Just silence

Quiet now

There are no arms embracing me

There never will be

Let me close the door

Maybe then

Just for a little while there will be

Solitude…!

Disabled…

If you want to group them into years

Then it’s been three years

But the loss felt each day

Is the same

Has it diminished?

Atleast by a bit?

I would know

Only when

I can believe that she’s left

On her own independent journey

To fly across the skies

To climb the the highest mountains

To run with able legs

While I go on

Emotionally

Disabled.

Silences

“Do you know how it feels like to keep quiet for like a day? It’s not that you don’t have anything to say. It’s that there is nobody to listen?” said Veena.
Tripti and Neena listened quietly.  Obviously they didn’t know. Their lives were filled with families who loved them. Friends, colleagues, parents, in-laws.
“I wake up, make breakfast, sit on my laptop, make lunch, again work, take the kids to classes, make dinner, sleep. During the seventeen hours that I am awake, I am mostly quiet. It is very rare that I express what I feel. That’s why I write.” continued Veena.
“But that’s so unbelievable Veena.. quiet and you? It’s hard to believe. You are the one who talks the most amongst us,  right Tripti?”
“Hmm.. she lives in a world that is unknown to us. Yes Neena, she has transformed into somebody else. But I am glad that she is the same old Veena when we are together”, said Tripti.