Swings of a rhapsodic mind

Let me tell you a story. Almost like every story that you read in story books, this story finds its home a long time ago. So, here it goes: Once upon a time, there lived Miss Sunshine in her big home. She had her parents, her uncles and an aunt and the most loving grand parents. They were the ones to call her sunshine. She lit their tiny world. As Miss Sunshine grew , she longed to have miss junior sunshine but just like the Sun, she was meant to be alone. She quite liked being who she was. She got to hear stories, eat ice creams, go out on vacations and everything that she wished for. This seemingly happy story has another part to It. Her family kept her happy and made her feel loved but they didn't warn her about the world outside her home, a ruthless uncompromising society at large. They bullied her at school for she was a meek nerd. They made fun of her , thrashed her but she never took her bruises home. "School is wonderful", is all that she told her family....

I hear my heart whisper when I ask it not to suffer "Live girl, live in the moment ",  I hear it cry. I brood over what is to be done, I know not how but I am told to live in the moment I lock my fears and smack down apprehensions I shun my mind which alerts me of pain And as I plunge to live in the moment I am told, the moment has passed That I no longer have it to myself. And for once and for all,  I stop chasing what I am told. I return to myself, Torn, tattered yet wise enough to see: It is only my heart that can bleed for me The rest has all passed in the chase for the moment.

Layered in the bottom of my heart is my home I hear my grandfather's early morning prayers The sound of his hymns drawing me out of slumber. I see my grandmother running by the hearth, Her stiff ankle refusing to take rest during busy hours I see my father riding a motorbike to school My mother's cotton saree flutters in the pavilion seat I can see a protruding attendance register from her tote bag. They promise me candies as they see me weep. I see my aunt feeding my toddler cousin, My uncle ever so busy with machines. And in midst of this frantic busy life, I see me. As I paint a tree green, I see a gap toothed smile escape Grandma pulls me out of the ground and weaves my hair into plaits She smears kohl in my eyes as she retires to bed I smell the odd concoction of boroline and iodex And as I sip my mug of milk, she lulls me to sleep. I dream what I can't remember And in a second, I see my home tumble. It's room robbed of memories I still have m...

I shift in my cozy bed as I feel the morning warmth, The floor creaks letting out a frozen shriek And just as I push myself out of slumber I catch a sight, and time stops ticking The Nilgiris talk to me in whispers. I see it's blue majestic demeanour All defined yet rustic! As I let my skin drench the mountain vibe, I settle for a cup of tea which hugs me back. The moment from time had everything I needed, And I ask time to not be ruthless To stop for once and keep me grounded. I unleash my pain, my furry in the sublime And in the Nilgiris, I find my home. As I sip my morning tea today My heart leaps a thousand miles I feel mountains shift within me As I shuffle through my mobile gallery In search of the warmth lost in time.

It's been long since I wrote anything, between days and months what losses I incurred last year are hard to summarise. I lost my grandfathers, yes both of them. You know the feeling when your favourite story book gets stolen and you have no way to buy another copy since you are a kid with no money and the book had been brought risking a fortune. You sulk, you wail, you cry but deep down you already know whatever you have lost can never be brought back. I went through such feeling, I feel I lost a huge part of myself with these two people. I can't bring them back to fill the dust filled corners of my life where they had their presence nor can I be that butterfly chasing girl anyday, she too has left with them. My grandfather from my maternal side was a man of few words. I remember my early school vacations when the favourite place on Earth for me used to be my maternal home. I remember those five rupees wale bus rides that took me to mama's ghor. The place would be fil...

I hear a commotion beneath my skin It lays my frantic attempts to hide, threadbare. A wail, a scream of rotting memories Coupled with regret of an unlived future I see it all form a zygote in my protruding belly I tighten my skirt, wear duppatas Yet, my guilt rises over my skirt And as I was struggling over honour and choice I found myself to be in a dream. ... I face a mirror : plain and morbid I powder my swollen cheeks Paint my sore eyes And yet, the mirror fails to show me my bruises It mocks me in disdain, I hear it's muffled breath crawling "there ain't a wound to your pain" ... I feel the tightening weight of ghungroo in my ankle "Nach, jhum k nach ", I hear the scream My legs refuse to move, my heart adamant tries In a darkened streets of despair, I lose myself to fate. ... I sip my morning tea A foul gush of bile makes me twitch my face Was it the cheap wine from last night Or the stink of dark memories. I wonder! ... Fati...

I am the eldest grandchild in my family. And being the eldest, I was pampered a great deal by my grandparents. My aama (grandma) and baa (grandpa) always shielded me from every possible dangers including thrashings from maa. I have pleasant memories of evening story sessions as grandpa took me to bed. Aama would oil my hair and tie pony tails which resembled coconut trees that I used to draw. Sundays meant elaborate sessions with my grandparents. Baa would trim my nails, aama would fondle me to sleep. Their bed room was literally my playing room, my story book reading room, my painting room and what not. With time, as I grew, I got a room of my own but their room was still my favourite one. When I left for hostel, I missed them more than I missed my parents.  It was in the year 2014, I had come home after my exams when aama received a pressure stroke . She couldn't make it. I had spent a month as he lay sick on her bed. All of a sudden, there was a role reversal. I could...