Wednesday, 17 September 2014

When Memories Outlive Lives




15th September 2014


My maternal Grandmother stepped into her heavenly abode yesterday. She was 82.

As a strong sense of loss gushes over me, I also feel relief. This confession may sound inappropriate to many. But honestly, that is the predominant feeling flowing through me since the time I heard about her demise. There are times when you love someone very dearly, that you would rather have God take them away, than selfishly cling on to them while they suffer mere existence. This was one such instance. I am relieved that she is rid of pain and illness and is in a better place now. 

The last 75 days were hard on her. For most parts of this duration, the hospital was her home. She depended on medical tubes and life support to be alive. Shuttling between being unconscious to being in a semi-conscious state, my Grandmother was critically ailing. There is no doubt I will miss her profoundly and that none can take her place, but I am glad God has decided to put an end to her worldly sufferings.

Grandma was one of the gentlest human beings I have met. There was an invisible halo of pure love around her. She only had nice things to say about people. Expressing gratitude does not come easy to many, but that was one of her strongest qualities. She felt much obliged even for the smallest of help anyone did for her. Without holding back her words of gratefulness, she generously served them to anyone, she felt deserving. Though weathered by the many hurdles life has hurled at her, Grandma lived her life with dignity and self-reliance, to the best extent that she could. Widowed at the tender age of 30, she brought up her four children and made them the wonderful people that they are today. She played the role of a loving and dutiful Grandmother to her eight grandchildren and helped each of her children raise them all. 

As are most grandma-grandchild relationships, ours was a special one. She always had a word of praise for me and had time to listen to anything at all that I wished to share with her. She genuinely cared and took interest in my life. She came over and stayed with me the few weeks before my wedding and was my personal beautician! From homemade face-packs to hair oil massages… oh, I was coddled like a princess! Grandma loved it when I let her pamper me and of course I loved it too! 

I recollect the three days that she spent with me last year. Her fondness for my preparation of a cup of coffee in particular, is a memory I treasure. My husband and I are coffee-drinkers. Hence, I was forewarned by my mother to prepare a special cup of tea for Grandma every day, as she preferred tea over coffee. On the first day of her visit, while I made our usual cups of coffee and was about to begin brewing her tea, I guess Grandma felt experimental and decided to try my coffee! So, she too drank coffee along with us and the rest, as they say… is history! The packet of tea which I had purchased especially for Grandma remained unopened, as she chose to drink coffee for the rest of the days that she was with me. Every evening witnessed the same ritual. She would eagerly wait for her coffee, slowly sip on it relishing every single sip with a smile and then shower me with plentiful words of praises for that simple cup of coffee. It amused me how such a small thing could make her so happy! For many months thereafter, even until our last telephone conversation, she made a mention of how much she liked my coffee! 

These beautiful memories and many more similar ones of her, are precious to me. I feel blessed to have been able create these with Grandma. They shall remain with me forever. I shall rewind and play them in my mind and relive those priceless moments with her. 

She ever so loved reading my poetry and prose, and called me the ‘writer in the family’. It gives me great joy to realise that I have been a reason to paint a smile of pride on her face. Hence, it was only befitting that I dedicated a post to her. A humble tribute to try conveying what she really means to me. I can imagine her reading this write-up, cradled in God’s arms and occasionally bursting into shy giggles. 

Oh, how I miss that gentle smile of hers…

May her loving soul, rest in peace!


Tuesday, 17 June 2014

'Thus I Learnt...' on Woman's Era (May 2014)

One of my personal favourites, the poem "Thus I Learnt..." has been published in Woman's Era's May (second) 2014 edition. 

This brings the tally of my writings in the fortnightly magazine to 7!  I am truly delighted that the poem has been featured and ecstatic over the way it has been prettily illustrated. 

The lovely response that I got for this poem, has left me overwhelmed! Thanks to everyone who has read, loved and appreciated this poem of mine :)



Monday, 24 February 2014

Price of Life


When he came to,
Everything was a blur,
Amidst the dizziness,
His gaze fell on her.
Her tears-stained face,
Had grief etched all over.
Those fine lines of wrinkles,
Appeared magnified that hour.

The turmoil within,
Had blinded him of life.
The angst he felt,
Dominated every emotion else.
His young self couldn’t cope,
When his exam-scores plunged negative,
The floor beneath his feet,
Seemed to cave in.
Tomorrow and beyond,
Looked black as night.
Hope, he saw none,
Was enveloped with shame and fright.
Just one door opened,
Welcoming him with open arms.
He walked on like a zombie,
Without any qualms.
Seconds passed slowly.
He, dizzy from loss of blood.
In his moment of weakness,
He only wished he was dead.

But, the world was not done with him yet.
God did not want him back yet.
Aide reached him in the nick of time,
Scooping him off the lap of death.

He winced with pain,
His wrist hurt from the slit.
But the ache in his heart was deeper,
As now, he was blanketed with guilt.
How did he not think of her?
At his mother he looked, with rue.
How did he lose sight of all else?
And decide this was the only cure? 
He was lucky to be alive.
And given a second chance.
A chance to live his life,
And not trade it at any price.

Life is precious, treasure it.
Problems are temporary, face with grit.
Failure is not the end of the world.
Suicide is NEVER the means to an end!



Thursday, 26 September 2013

On Woman's Era, yet again!

Another 'Yay!' moment to share with you guys :) 

My 6th has been featured on Woman's Era September (First) 2013. To say I am delighted would be an understatement. I am ecstatic! :)

You can also read the blog post here.




Monday, 3 June 2013

Hostage (Beslan massacre - 2004)

dated - 4th September,2004 

As I commuted to work this morning, I saw several happy excited little kids on their way to school. Today marks the new school year for many. My thoughts involuntarily raced back to the horrendous memories of the crisis that took place in Beslan, Russia in 2004. Innocent little children and adults were gunned downed by crazed terrorists. Read more about the heart wrenching incident here.


They were so eager and happy,
This day was much awaited by them,
A new school year was beginning,
New friends, new books, new lessons...

They had hardly reached their school building,
They had hardly met their buddies,
They had hardly shared their stories,
When something terrible happened...

Masked men and women,
Crazed and blinded with a mission,
Seized the school premises,
Loaded with guns and ammunitions...

Hundreds of little children,
Parents and teaching staff.
Were taken hostage by the armed gang,
Is this a means to an end...?

Torture and trauma,
Prevailed for three agonising days,
Anxiety and fear,
Was written on every face...

But when the crisis, did finally end, 
There was little to rejoice, 
As there was much bloodshed...

Hundreds perished,
Succumbing to bomb blasts and bullets.
As mercilessly the terrorists,
Shot at fleeing young students...

The ultimate act of barbarism,
Targeting hapless young children,
What can be more horrific,
Heartless, inhumane...?

It tore at my heart,
As I followed these happenings,
Oh! God, what are we heading for,
Can anything be more brutal than this...?

May their innocent little souls rest in peace.