Thursday, 5 March 2015
Tuesday, 27 January 2015
Long ago, I remember wanting to have a little sister. I thought of it as sharing secrets, sharing wardrobes and having lots of girl fun together.
And yet, I was given a tiny little brother. I saw him sleep 18 hours a day. I saw him kicking and squalling as soon as he found his legs. I found tiny fingers clutching my hand to guide him whenever he felt unsure of himself. The same fingers often tore out my hair if he didn't like what I said. I gave him pillion rides on my bicycle because he was so little for so long. I fed him his food after school when I could barely feed myself. He would snuggle beside me at nap-time and run away as soon as I'd dozed off. He would come to my class like the best kid ever to deliver his teachers' summons umpteen times. I cried afterwards and he'd point and laugh. I tried to instigate him into trying the schooltime forbidden fruit - the delectable yet questionable chuski! He would eat it and complain to mom anyway. But inspite of all that happened, I was given a gift. A gift of a person to love for all of my life.
Despite my initial disappointment at the wardrobe I couldn't share because he was a boy, I find ways to do it! And the secrets? All of them. He's the friend who is older than his seventeen years and has big brotherly advice despite being just a little boy. He's the boy who still snuggles when he feels sleepy. He's the boy who will bend my brittle nails if I scratch him accidentally and then ask mum if my nails will be okay. He's the boy who takes me out for cake voluntarily. And he's the one who'll say, "Come back home after 7 or 8 days. 3 days is too less!" He's the one whose face makes me cry at the railway station. He's the boy who's growing up so so fast and has made me crazy proud. He's the one I'll love for an eternity. ❤
Tuesday, 2 December 2014
Tuesday, 21 October 2014
I've been at my father's back for the last two days to come out with me and buy the Diwali lights because our set breathed its last this year. While he acts as nonchalant as possible, I am grown enough to see how much he enjoys my love for fire and light. Today, on Dhanteras, I started sulking for the same reason and he switched on the T.V. He hates to see me sporting a long face (a girl, AND his firstborn), so within ten minutes, he had gotten dressed and was asking me my plans for the porch this year!
Behind my dad on the scooter, I have this habit of staring at the road - At people, at the little shops, and during Diwali, the decorations and the crackers on display. While we proceeded, something that I saw pierced my heart and tore it apart. A little boy, four years old at the most, barefoot and dressed in hand-me-downs that were probably given in charity, was being pulled off the main road by his slightly older sister. He was trying to cross the street to go over to a shop on the opposite side which had a coir bed full of crackers on display. The child's eyes were lit, and in his eyes I saw that fire which draws me to fire- luminous and innocent, beautiful and excited, like pools of magma, yet not looking to sear anyone or anything. The children were untidy and under-dressed for an autumn evening as cold as this one. My heart leapt out to them. Isn't this supposed to be the festival of joy? Don't those children deserve to light a few crackers and get a whiff of their childhood? I asked myself these basic questions and grew sad, pledging to myself to give these children a little Diwali. While on the street, I saw more children like them. Some shopkeepers gave these homeless children a few incense sticks and some small crackers. Words haven't yet been coined to define the joy on those faces. Even more children walked away from shops distraught and crestfallen after being shooed away by less generous shopkeepers. Overall, I saw misery. I saw innocents being deprived of the joy that I was so anxious to buy.
I wished for these children to come to my house for my mother's awesome Chicken Tikka and to celebrate the festival with us. For them to be bathed and cleaned before the Puja. Yet, none of this will ever happen. They'll forlornly roam the streets on Diwali, when I shall be enjoying myself too much to see.
Everywhere, on Facebook and Twitter, I see people pledging to have a cracker-free, fume-free, "green" Diwali. What I wish for is much more basic. I want a Happy Diwali. Not just for you and me and the people I know and will wish over WhatsApp on the day of the festival. I want a Happy Diwali for all of these people and all those people who I did not see during the drive today. I pray for a Happy Diwali for all those whom the fire won't engulf in its charm. Equality is a foolish person's grope in the darkness. I wish for equitability. It is mindlessness to expect one person to go around combing out all the poor and homeless kids they see and bring them closer to the light. However, a lot of those children can enjoy the festival if you put one firecracker and one sweet in the hands of one cheerless child.
Have a happy Diwali, everyone!
Monday, 1 September 2014
Thursday, 28 August 2014
I saw him leave, inevitable, obviously. He stayed as long as he could, and then he couldn't, anymore. Everybody has his/her life's work and I understand that we need to keep doing it to keep our sanity. I have two choices from here on out : I can sit and cry after he leaves (which I briefly did) or I can grab a tissue and get on with my life's work. While I sit tight and wait for the tears to fall when I'm comfortable in my loneliness, I decide I'm going to take the separation positively. I swear to myself that I will resume working out, eat healthy, and watch the obscene number of films that I've been procrastinating to watch for the past year. Of course, I slip more times than I stand up. Instead of working out, I sit like a chimp and spoon clumps of processed cheese into my mouth. Instead of watching the new, un-watched films, I do a rerun of F.R.I.E.N.D.S and laugh hysterically, and watch The Fault in Our Stars, and cry like Augustus Waters was my boyfriend. But, this too will pass. It'll be morning again tomorrow, and I think I'll do the twenty prescribed Suryanamaskars. When I'm done however, I'll drink some water, eat some cheese and watch those films.
Goodbyes are pathetic. Hearing them, and not hearing them are equally unpleasant. The worst thing is to not deal with the reality, and that is this: "What goes around comes around". There will always be, repeat after me, a better time.
Thursday, 21 August 2014
For a long time in my life, I had always been let down by people whom I knew as friends. I made new ones, the older ones left - for good. My paranoia had reached unnatural heights, so bad that I never trusted anyone I met. To me, they were all going to go away, soon. Acquaintances, not friends, I used to remind myself.
Ironically, this was the time the best relationships I've made in this life, blossomed. Quickly, I had found friends in three other weirdos who didn't fit in everywhere they went. There were more people who were wary of us than those who were nice to us. After a few turf wars (Girls' College, politics bound to perchance), we'd charted our territory. We were inseparable. From cracking the dirtiest of jokes in class to being the only people to not know the starting time of an exam (people hated us :P ), we did it all. The best dreams end the earliest, I guess. We were separated after one and a half measly years of togetherness, Fate be blamed. God knows I wanted to spend an eternity with these lovely people. No, I didn't lose my girlfriends to girl-ego fights. It was a sheer twist of events that took it away from us. While I've had my share of bad, nay rotten, luck when it came to friends, I've had some amazing luck too.
We consider ourselves lucky if we get to meet once each year. Often, when one of us falls asleep early, she's woken with 200 unread messages on the WhatsApp group we're part of.
While most of us have a lot of friends, we're lucky if we find just one who will literally give an arm for us. I have three.
(P.S: Love is too small a word to describe what I feel for you three. We'll wait for the English Language to evolve, girls.)