Monday, August 03, 2009

Mother's Day

Neil looked at his watch again. He was almost late for the lunch meeting with his client. It was a Sunday, and his client lived in the other corner of the city, but who cared about these miniscule details any more? It was all about keeping clients happy so that they feed money to the corporation you work for to grow larger and pay you more so that you could slog more without complaining.

A short distance away, Neil saw a billboard wishing all mothers in the city a happy mothers’ day. Neil cursed himself for forgetting it and decided that since he couldn’t be sure of meeting her today, he would send her some flowers. He stopped at a flower shop to place an order for a bouquet of lilies to be sent to his mother who lived in the town two hundred miles away.

As he got out of his car he noticed a young girl sitting on the pavement sobbing. Neil asked her what was wrong and she replied, "I wanted to buy a red rose for my mother. But I only have seventy-five cents, and a rose costs two dollars. Neil, ready to do anything to assuage his heart of guilt over not meeting his mother on this special day, smiled and said, "Come in with me. I'll buy you a rose."

He bought the little girl her rose and ordered flowers for his own mother. As they were leaving, he offered the girl a ride home. She said, "Yes, please! You can take me to my mother." She directed him along a beautiful road lined by green trees and white picket fences beyond which lay hundreds of graves with marble tombstones. They reached the gate of the cemetery. She promptly got out of the car, ran into the cemetery and tenderly placed the rose on a freshly dug grave, so as to not hurt her mother.

Neil looked on with surprise. He felt ashamed for prioritizing his job over his mother, the woman who had made him what he was today. He stroked the girl’s head, turned back and returned to the flower shop. He canceled his order, picked up a bouquet and drove the two hundred miles to his mother’s house to tell her how much he loved her.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Autopsy of a broken heart

One day I killed a heart and invited my love specialist friends to perform a post-mortem. I stood over the heart, which was kept on a plate, smiling with mirth and euphoric over my victory. I ripped it open with a knife and all of us bent over it to know – what all a lover's heart contains? All of us had wished that someone dies for us but I was the first to make a heart die for me. What a prized possession it was! Believe me, the joy of having a lover to trample over his feelings, to kill emotionally – inch by inch and to know someone is completely at your disposal, is unparalleled. Call it the vanity of the beloved or whatever but it gives such a high to kill a heart.

I killed that particular heart easily. I kept my eyes open to see, who's the most vulnerable and reliable of the lot and went for the kill. When I saw her coming under my spell, I started ignoring her. It perplexed her and she started pursuing me with all her might. One moment I smiled at her, the other moment I smiled at her rival. I took all favours from her as my right, made her run errands for me, mocked her inability to fulfil my wishes, threw tantrums when it was beyond her means to fulfill those dainty desires. When I saw her completely in my power, I knew it was the time to murder her. I did nothing much, just smiled sweetly and bid 'adieu', stating that I am seeing someone else. That finished her and that's how her heart landed on the plate for a post-mortem. Well, the dissection began. The heart was of a peculiar quality, it was as soft as a new-born babe. I did not dare touch it again with knife. As we stooped to examine the contents, we were too stunned to speak. It was so rich – full of beautiful memories. Like a video-clipping it showed memories of yore. There were so many moments I had seen, but not lived.

It showed the day I first met her, shy and sweet with fluttering lashes. It showed her anger and retort, when others called me a flirt. It showed me her loving care, when I caught cold and sneezed. It showed me, her anticipation of my wants and his attempts to fulfil it beforehand. I saw her preserving those ugly gifts I tossed at her from time-to-time in the name of love. I saw her holding on to my hanky and crying at the time when I had called her names and quarrelled for the first time. I saw her, waiting endlessly for me on chilling nights, when I had chosen to ignore her and hang out with other friends. I saw her, insecure, silent, pathetic, completely at my disposal – a victim of my love game. I saw her gazing at my face for a smile, for approval, for love and what she got was selfish affection. I saw her wincing, her confidence failing, whenever I angrily called her a failure, a stupid loser. The heart showed me her gradual ruin when I shunned her – her lost faith in herself and went into depression. she faltered in studies and became an all-round failure, but one thing revived her even on her deathbed – my name. She would whisper my name in her dreams, sigh and wait for me always.

The day I said I would never come back to her – she died but with smile on her lips and with the hope that I will come back. Something like a tear fell from my eyes on remembering that hollow-eyed familiar face as the heart played another masterpiece - a sweet-sad love symphony. There was also a little love note for me, which said, "Kill me but my love for you will never die." The note was tear-stained. There were other masterpieces also but I could not bear to see them, as my heart was dying. Agitated and guilty, I brutally cut her heart into pieces. But what oozed out was love, love and more love. My friends deserted me on seeing me frenzied and called me a love-maniac. I was left alone with nothing but a dead heart for company. The heart that died painfully was mine; her heart revived and lived, sustained by my tears and memories. I lost all.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Love, Lost? ...or Found?

Why did you promise me the world?
When all you could give me were a few charming dreams
Some which were fated to see light of the day,
Whilst others that were doomed to drown in the oceans with the setting sun...

Why is it that the heart desires all or nothing?
A deceitful predicament that shall shatter my being in any case
You can't have it all, so the pain comes in much later (and stronger)
Or, you have nothing, and you live with regrets...

Why the guilt if you smile in times of pain?
Why is the world sometimes bleak despite the shiny sun
And the twinkling stars that have never lost their luminiscence?
A soft sigh to break your heart,
Or a smarting quote to make your heart writhe in miserable torture...

The one that loves you most, hurts you most.
But why feel the hurt if you love?
Questions galore and answers none,
A riddle called life destined to run
Through rain, wind, snow and sun -
You find your soul and the race is won.

The Truth Can Kill You

Ever wondered why it is so difficult to handle the truth?

Why is it so important for me to live up to expectaions and yet have none? I am human too, and in expectations from myself and the people I choose, I find it perfectly humane to be able to do so.... give and take, the basis of all relationships, professional... and PERSONAL. Why is love called unconditional, when it is not?

It kills me bit by bit every single time I have to face the truth that nothing is mine to stake a claim on - no material object, no intangible feeling, no relationship. And yet, I make the same mistake over and over... of wanting to hear what I want to hear, or of wanting people to accept me as I am, and for them to do what would be considered as "understanding me".

I have often said, "I am the way I am, and it is up to the other person to accept me or not". Too bad, I so want certain people to accept me, and I am wiling to go to lengths to mould myself in any which manner possible to gain weightage in the eyes of my near and dear ones. And guess what, intentionaly, or unintentinally, I am rejected. I go and dwell in self depreciation and a feeling of utter dejection till I am on the verge of losing the very last ounce of my sanity.

Right now, I am under the influence of one such heartfelt loss. It makes me think of all those beautiful yesterdays full of unspoken promises, dreams of a perfect and happy world, and a satisfied soul juxtaposed with a sense of a hauntingly sonorous and echoing emptiness, my hands trying desperately to grab and hold on to the virtuality of the past, but groping about failingly to only find real emptiness and a complete sense of loss.

I am lost. So lost... My expectations had laid a part of the foundations of the years to come, but I keep forgetting, fairytales don't come true. They are just dreams. There are no "...happily ever afters". And when the foundations are imaginary, what do I build my future on???