I have lived yet another month without you in my life, when will this heartbreak ever end. You have been gone for 13 months today and I am feeling a deep sense of loss. I hate number 8, it’s the date of my birth and of your passing away, every month I lose a bit of my heart on this day. I go slightly insane and quietly crazy, dare not anyone know or they might send me off to a Looney farm.
Nobody understands how I feel; no one sees my carefully concealed pain. Either I am a good actress or the world is blind, that they can’t see me grieving over you. They don’t see my panic when I suddenly realize that I will never be able to hug you again, feel your hand on my shoulder, never hear your loving voice, nor see your handsome face. I hate this feeling of helplessness which comes over me unexpectedly. Catches me unawares and singes my heart with its burning intensity.
Yesterday I received some great news and you would have been so proud of me, if only you could have heard it. I thought of you, missed you, wept over you and moved on like the other infidels. Shared my good news with my bestest friend but there was something missing, no one can take your place in my affections and heart but the pain does lessen when there is a soothing hand holding mine and giving me strength, a willing ear listening to the outpourings of my soul. Thank you god for my best friend. Amen.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Side-splitting Excuses
Excuse me; May I jump the queue? I am in a hurry,
For I have left cooking, at home, my famous chicken curry.
This and a whole lot of reasons are given,
By the impatient eves standing, in lines at check-out counters,
Wherever there is a queue, there is an excuse new.
Hi dear, can I go first? As, I am dying of thirst.
Or please let me go ahead of you, or my bladder will burst.
Another cheeky one, I need to go ahead of you, as,
I have places to go and, things to do, unlike you.
Looks like, you are buying, everything under the sun.
I have only a few items, ingredients for making my food.
While you are purchasing, for the entire neighborhood
Having said this, the miss smarty-pants,
At the counter, my place she took.
I have left my baby in the car, in the heat.
And by mistake, have placed the car keys on the seat.
Or my pet Dalmatian, Barks her head off,
And throws a fit. She doesn’t tolerate tardiness,
Even a bit. She is waiting in the car for me,
Let me go first or, you’ll see, Sparky will drive off without me.
I can’t possibly, Walk Back home,
In these Jimmy choo sandals,
And my bags have, such flimsy handles.
Your footwear is sturdy and thick, like your ankles.
You can easily walk on the road,
Carrying this entire heavy load.
What I am getting to, is, I am a delicate darling,
And to this hard labor, I am new.
let me jump the queue,
Please, let me be ahead of you.
My designer dress will, Spoil in the sun, if I perspire.
You are safe, as your clothes, Look like you got them,
From Maganlal dresswala, on hire.
I shop in Paris, Monte Carlo, Milan and Boardwalk
Whereas your haunts are Jan path, Sarojini Nagar,
Karol Baugh and Chandani Chowk.
Even time is partial to us, we buy age, delay wrinkles.
Stay young longer, Die older.
Unlike you poor souls, we pity you.
Let me go ahead, you have no dreams,
Nothing to look forward to, so stay here a bit longer,
And enjoy the view.
Let me jump the queue; Let me go ahead of you.
Lucks
For I have left cooking, at home, my famous chicken curry.
This and a whole lot of reasons are given,
By the impatient eves standing, in lines at check-out counters,
Wherever there is a queue, there is an excuse new.
Hi dear, can I go first? As, I am dying of thirst.
Or please let me go ahead of you, or my bladder will burst.
Another cheeky one, I need to go ahead of you, as,
I have places to go and, things to do, unlike you.
Looks like, you are buying, everything under the sun.
I have only a few items, ingredients for making my food.
While you are purchasing, for the entire neighborhood
Having said this, the miss smarty-pants,
At the counter, my place she took.
I have left my baby in the car, in the heat.
And by mistake, have placed the car keys on the seat.
Or my pet Dalmatian, Barks her head off,
And throws a fit. She doesn’t tolerate tardiness,
Even a bit. She is waiting in the car for me,
Let me go first or, you’ll see, Sparky will drive off without me.
I can’t possibly, Walk Back home,
In these Jimmy choo sandals,
And my bags have, such flimsy handles.
Your footwear is sturdy and thick, like your ankles.
You can easily walk on the road,
Carrying this entire heavy load.
What I am getting to, is, I am a delicate darling,
And to this hard labor, I am new.
let me jump the queue,
Please, let me be ahead of you.
My designer dress will, Spoil in the sun, if I perspire.
You are safe, as your clothes, Look like you got them,
From Maganlal dresswala, on hire.
I shop in Paris, Monte Carlo, Milan and Boardwalk
Whereas your haunts are Jan path, Sarojini Nagar,
Karol Baugh and Chandani Chowk.
Even time is partial to us, we buy age, delay wrinkles.
Stay young longer, Die older.
Unlike you poor souls, we pity you.
Let me go ahead, you have no dreams,
Nothing to look forward to, so stay here a bit longer,
And enjoy the view.
Let me jump the queue; Let me go ahead of you.
Lucks
Friday, February 11, 2011
The Healing “kick”
I came into this world with aplomb, feet first, unlike the others. I landed on my feet at 4:20 AM on 8th Jan more than 4 decades ago and drooled over the handsome doctor. There was another lady who had delivered at the same time in the adjacent labor room. Her daughter was a normal child who came into this world like any other average baby- headfirst.
Whenever I used to defy my parents, my mother used to say, “You were born all wrong. You go against all that is normal and acceptable in society.” I was not fully aware of my uniqueness at that time. However as time passed, I realized the benefits of being born a breach baby. My mother’s innumerable friends used to call up and request my presence in their homes. The first time I went up to one such lady’s place I was shocked. They wanted me to touch my foot to her aching back! According to an old superstition, if a breach baby kicks someone suffering from a backache, the ache disappears pronto.
Thus started the healing process. I am a quick learner and hence realized early in the day that I was the messiah who saved these poor unfortunate people, suffering from back pain. I was a genie. Next time when I was invited to kick an aching back, I held back. After milking the situation to the maximum, by polishing off a plate of snacks and a glass of juice, I did the honors. My reputation spread like wildfire and soon friends of my mother’s friends started requesting my services. I was a celebrity. Thank god for superstitions!
Many years have passed by and a lot of water has flown under the bridge. Last month I sprained my back while walking my dog. The X-Ray showed lumbar cervical Spondilytis. An old forgotten memory of me curing the aching backs flashed before my eyes. I tried to twist my leg to reach my back in vain and in the process aggravated the pain!
I don’t really believe in superstitions but still sometimes I wonder, What if I am special and my foot is capable of performing miracles. If only I could kick myself in the back and get rid of this nagging pain. But like they say, “A tree never eats its own fruits” and “A river doesn’t drink its own water”. Same is the case of a miracle healer “She cannot heal herself.”
Lucks AKA Sulekha
Whenever I used to defy my parents, my mother used to say, “You were born all wrong. You go against all that is normal and acceptable in society.” I was not fully aware of my uniqueness at that time. However as time passed, I realized the benefits of being born a breach baby. My mother’s innumerable friends used to call up and request my presence in their homes. The first time I went up to one such lady’s place I was shocked. They wanted me to touch my foot to her aching back! According to an old superstition, if a breach baby kicks someone suffering from a backache, the ache disappears pronto.
Thus started the healing process. I am a quick learner and hence realized early in the day that I was the messiah who saved these poor unfortunate people, suffering from back pain. I was a genie. Next time when I was invited to kick an aching back, I held back. After milking the situation to the maximum, by polishing off a plate of snacks and a glass of juice, I did the honors. My reputation spread like wildfire and soon friends of my mother’s friends started requesting my services. I was a celebrity. Thank god for superstitions!
Many years have passed by and a lot of water has flown under the bridge. Last month I sprained my back while walking my dog. The X-Ray showed lumbar cervical Spondilytis. An old forgotten memory of me curing the aching backs flashed before my eyes. I tried to twist my leg to reach my back in vain and in the process aggravated the pain!
I don’t really believe in superstitions but still sometimes I wonder, What if I am special and my foot is capable of performing miracles. If only I could kick myself in the back and get rid of this nagging pain. But like they say, “A tree never eats its own fruits” and “A river doesn’t drink its own water”. Same is the case of a miracle healer “She cannot heal herself.”
Lucks AKA Sulekha
Monday, February 7, 2011
My darling Valentine
How does someone become your Valentine?
How does he take over your life?
What makes you hand yourself over to him?
Why do you love him so?
Is it because he is special,
Or because he is He?
How does your heart recognize him?
Does he dress differently,
walk in a certain way?
Or is it because you feel a connect,
A bond with his heart,
Your soul recognizes its soul mate?
Your heart beats crazily,
hands and feet turn to ice.
You feel breathless,
tremble and shake.
Legs give way, you collapse,
In a puddle of emotions so strong,
That nothing but his touch,
Can make you whole again,
Only his embrace can revive you,
Only his kiss can resurrect your soul.
How does he take over your life?
What makes you hand yourself over to him?
Why do you love him so?
Is it because he is special,
Or because he is He?
How does your heart recognize him?
Does he dress differently,
walk in a certain way?
Or is it because you feel a connect,
A bond with his heart,
Your soul recognizes its soul mate?
Your heart beats crazily,
hands and feet turn to ice.
You feel breathless,
tremble and shake.
Legs give way, you collapse,
In a puddle of emotions so strong,
That nothing but his touch,
Can make you whole again,
Only his embrace can revive you,
Only his kiss can resurrect your soul.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Happy Birthday Preetu (6th Feb)
Happy Birthday Preetu (6th Feb)
Once upon a time in Mumbai, a star was born and this star has been twinkling in this world for the past 16 years, or that’s what the star claims but I know differently. Preetu was the name bestowed upon this bright and cheerful star and it’s her birthday today, her 16th birthday, according to her….ha ha…, more like her 36th or 46th.
Preetu, is my andekhi, anjaani friend, I have yet to meet. We are from the same college, Jaihind, Bombay, but we never met there, I met her online last month. She is my dear friend's best friend, and is a gem of a person.
She loves music…all genres and the songs that make her invariably cry are Abke baras bhej bhaiya ko sawan, from the movie Bandini and the other one is , Babul ki duain leti ja, ja tujhko sukhi sansar mile from the movie Babul. If you are on her friends list you will know that she has put up her Son Rohan’s picture as her profile picture. She says that a baby’s photograph always brings a smile to her face.
She has a sweet tooth and loves chocolates and ice creams; she is a fantastic cook too. She loves flowers, friends and family; an emotional softie is our dear Preetu.
And her sense of humor is to die for, when asked about her most romantic moment, pat came the reply,” when I bought a diamond ring for myself...then went and bought a huge Hot fudge ice cream...Lol”
On a more serious note, she seems to be a grounded person, and has no regrets or bitterness in her heart for anyone, no matter how much they might have hurt her...none. She believes even the people who hurt her have taught her a lot about life. She has complete faith in god and sees no negatives in anything and accepts everything as his wish.
Just when things start becoming serious she diffuses the situation with her crazy one liner, in reply to my, “I like talking to you”, she answers, “I like talking to myself too”. That’s Preetu for you. But she immediately retracts her statement and says,” Likewise friend”.
She compliments my craziness, she is a great singer and a fantastic person, loving and caring. Her smiles, and the virtual chocolates and hugs, she sends my way, make my day. She has an uncanny ability to sense other people’s emotions and respond accordingly. The links to songs she sent me when I was going through a rough phase are proof of this. Love you bidu...And wish you all the happiness in the world on your Birthday and every single day of your life.
Lucks
Once upon a time in Mumbai, a star was born and this star has been twinkling in this world for the past 16 years, or that’s what the star claims but I know differently. Preetu was the name bestowed upon this bright and cheerful star and it’s her birthday today, her 16th birthday, according to her….ha ha…, more like her 36th or 46th.
Preetu, is my andekhi, anjaani friend, I have yet to meet. We are from the same college, Jaihind, Bombay, but we never met there, I met her online last month. She is my dear friend's best friend, and is a gem of a person.
She loves music…all genres and the songs that make her invariably cry are Abke baras bhej bhaiya ko sawan, from the movie Bandini and the other one is , Babul ki duain leti ja, ja tujhko sukhi sansar mile from the movie Babul. If you are on her friends list you will know that she has put up her Son Rohan’s picture as her profile picture. She says that a baby’s photograph always brings a smile to her face.
She has a sweet tooth and loves chocolates and ice creams; she is a fantastic cook too. She loves flowers, friends and family; an emotional softie is our dear Preetu.
And her sense of humor is to die for, when asked about her most romantic moment, pat came the reply,” when I bought a diamond ring for myself...then went and bought a huge Hot fudge ice cream...Lol”
On a more serious note, she seems to be a grounded person, and has no regrets or bitterness in her heart for anyone, no matter how much they might have hurt her...none. She believes even the people who hurt her have taught her a lot about life. She has complete faith in god and sees no negatives in anything and accepts everything as his wish.
Just when things start becoming serious she diffuses the situation with her crazy one liner, in reply to my, “I like talking to you”, she answers, “I like talking to myself too”. That’s Preetu for you. But she immediately retracts her statement and says,” Likewise friend”.
She compliments my craziness, she is a great singer and a fantastic person, loving and caring. Her smiles, and the virtual chocolates and hugs, she sends my way, make my day. She has an uncanny ability to sense other people’s emotions and respond accordingly. The links to songs she sent me when I was going through a rough phase are proof of this. Love you bidu...And wish you all the happiness in the world on your Birthday and every single day of your life.
Lucks
Friday, February 4, 2011
Why do people write?
To connect with the world in their own twisted way.
To escape from reality.
To lighten their hearts.
To dull the pain in their chest.
To let others into their lives.
To remain sane in this insane world.
To get rid of their inner demons.
To stem the bleeding of their soul.
To continue living, to survive.
To ease the constriction in their chest.
To share their emotions with loving friends and sometimes uncaring strangers.
To belong, to ward off loneliness.
To put up their scars on display for the world to see.
To invite more pain and suffering into their lives.
To count their blessings.
To share their euphoria.
To rejoice in the wonder of life.
To bond with soul-mates.
To let go of their past and embrace the pain.
To empty their soul, to share their joy.
To torture themselves.
To leave a part of their soul behind.
To breathe, to celebrate life.
To exist, to survive, to belong.
To be themselves.
People write because of all these reasons and more, for, not writing is akin to
Dying.
Lucks aka Sulekha
To escape from reality.
To lighten their hearts.
To dull the pain in their chest.
To let others into their lives.
To remain sane in this insane world.
To get rid of their inner demons.
To stem the bleeding of their soul.
To continue living, to survive.
To ease the constriction in their chest.
To share their emotions with loving friends and sometimes uncaring strangers.
To belong, to ward off loneliness.
To put up their scars on display for the world to see.
To invite more pain and suffering into their lives.
To count their blessings.
To share their euphoria.
To rejoice in the wonder of life.
To bond with soul-mates.
To let go of their past and embrace the pain.
To empty their soul, to share their joy.
To torture themselves.
To leave a part of their soul behind.
To breathe, to celebrate life.
To exist, to survive, to belong.
To be themselves.
People write because of all these reasons and more, for, not writing is akin to
Dying.
Lucks aka Sulekha
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Undeniably true
Unspoken words lie between us,
like unheard echoes of
Our yearning for each other.
Untouched by time and space,
Unconcerned about all but one another.
Undaunted we walk,
Our each separate path.
Unperturbed about the destination,
Undoubtedly sure about
Our journey together.
On untrodden paths of tough love,
Unflinchingly we bear the cross
of separation and desolation,
Unashamedly loving each other.
Unabashedly daring sorrows
to cross our paths,
Unblinking we stare
at distances separating us,
Unwavering we continue
to cherish each other.
Lucky aka Sulekha
like unheard echoes of
Our yearning for each other.
Untouched by time and space,
Unconcerned about all but one another.
Undaunted we walk,
Our each separate path.
Unperturbed about the destination,
Undoubtedly sure about
Our journey together.
On untrodden paths of tough love,
Unflinchingly we bear the cross
of separation and desolation,
Unashamedly loving each other.
Unabashedly daring sorrows
to cross our paths,
Unblinking we stare
at distances separating us,
Unwavering we continue
to cherish each other.
Lucky aka Sulekha
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