Whenever I look at the my grandparents, I see the two sides of age. It is a thing Shakespeare called the second childhood. Justifiably so. With all the experience and all the time they have, comes so much more. The fatigue. The helplessness. The denial. And very rarely, the acceptance.
They are many things. Apprehensive. Restrictive. Over-cautious. Stubborn. Irrational. Worst of all, they are unaware of their actions. I hardly blame them for any of it. Experience is a double-edged sword, after all. On one hand, it guides us through all the decisions of our lives and on the other, it blinds us to what doesn’t match our outlook. Where at times it makes us feel so powerful and in command, on so many other times, it leaves us vulnerable and helpless in situations well within our control. Without making us realise, It dictates our lives, and binds us to it’s will.
Well, there will be so many quotes today about how everyone has the best mothers and how everyone loves them so much. I am not an exception to the rule. Honestly, this is more or less exactly those same things being said in a different way. First things first, happy mother’s day. And now i will move to saying simple things in these extremely long emotional and serious paragraphs. So, umm, deal with it people. Here it goes.
I love my mumma. More than anything in the world. And that includes my computer, my camera and basically anything which is of any value to me. Jokes aside now, she is one of the closest persons to me. And the best part is, she plays so many parts in my life, i hardly feel like i am missing out on any of that.
She is at times the typical indian mother, pestering me about food, asking me to clean up, getting worried at the tiniest of things and panicking if i get scratched by a feather. Waking up early so i can have a breakfast of my choice. Spoiling me at every possible opportunity, making me feel special for existing and fixing things i don’t even know are wrong in my life.
I know this is not my style of writing. Neither is it my current emotional state. An old poem. Doesn’t feel as profound as it used to anymore. But still feels good enough to share. Oh and yes, it is cheesy as hell
Why still doing
The duties no longer yours
Why still searching
for keys to broken doors
Why still repeat
What is not meant to be
Why still ignore
what everyone can see
Why still persist
When all was ripped apart
Why still? Why?
Asked my broken heart
Soch Na Sake (Airlift) – Arijit Singh
After listening to the horrible singing in the last song i sang again and again, i was pretty sure i will never upload another monstrosity. Somehow i felt that this one, even through its share of mistakes, was not another aberration. 😅
I hope you enjoy. And i hope i get better at this.
It was an early summer morning. Enthusiastic chirping simply brought some life into the deserted station. There was the occasional hum of tractors that could be heard at a distance, barely audible in the cacophony of his thoughts. He had just arrived there last night carrying three things with him. A small backpack, a gleeful smile, and a new way to look at life.
This was an unplanned trip, just like his breakdown was. It was a journey on the inside as much as it was outside. That was the magic he had witnessed. As things around him moved, things within moved too. He wondered when the next train would arrive as the rising sun brought a wide grin to his face. There was always something spiritual about the silent cogs of nature.
There are times when a strange dichotomy starts dictating your life. The thin grey area stops existing altogether. Something is either wrong, or right. But you never quite get to label your decisions and brand them as the correct one. You cant salvage even a sliver of certainty.
That all engulfing cloud of doubt extends to all aspects of your life. You start wondering about the consequences of everything you do. At one point, it passes the barrier of self doubt too. Just one little decision spirals out into an uncontrollable mess much beyond the comprehension of not just you, but everyone around.
There was a buzz in the air,
Everything seemed sound.
All felt just perfect but
Problems chose to compound.
That was where I stood
While life moved on.
Its hard to say I saw it coming,
But there was animosity around.
Left scars time couldn’t heal,
Parts of myself now all but gone
All because I tried to stay
While life moved on.
There is more to it though,
Not just uncertainties that gain ground.
There are good times to look back at
With better ones certainly inbound.
The spirit seemingly lost
Will again undoubtedly be found
And a time will soon come when
I’ll look back with a smile profound,
At the time I chose to stay
While life moved on. . . . .
Coloured the lives around him,
With the only palette he had.
The monochrome left inside
Haunting his petty existance.
Smiling, joking, all a facade
Till the rest had left him be.
His silent screams only hid
His tearless tormented wails
Tries to change for everyone
What he couldnt for himself
In hopes to heal the wounds
That cripple him from within