#2: Forsaken soul

"Don't go out yet!" we said. "Your talks with that friend are ever on the rise. 

Talking about our household is not wise."

The light left her eyes, shoulders stooped, she slunk back on her chair.

"She's back from the village with a gift. Taking it, I think, is fair."

We stopped short of words. Yet again we were too hasty and judging.

The househelp across the lane had the comfort only a friend could bring.

Staring at the soppy serial on TV, her only distraction, her eyes welled with tears,

"You wouldn't know what it is to be alone, and to live in fear."

A sharp intake of breath we took. She was right, and we hadn't thought,

What it could be like to lose every loved one life had brought.

There had been a home with Mother and Sister and Goats in a far-off village,

Before it crumbled while she had been away, all mercilessly pillaged.

The Mother and Sister killed by some kin,

And no one to arrest them for committing the sin.

For we live in a country where the mighty rule,

The honest and the hard-working man is just a fool.

So it was that she lost her family, for the kin lusted for her life too,

She gave up her hard-earned money to another greedy sister, for there was nothing she could do.

The greedy sister, sent off at birth to a kin-woman who wanted her, became bitter,

To the birth-mother; she felt no sympathy for her remaining sister.

Yet we wondered what made this lonely girl do things for the greedy one,

"She's the only family left... I'm doing what I would anyway have done."

Cleaning, cooking, washing, answering throughout the day,

A few minutes of solace with a friend are for play.

Yet she is hindered. By the time we realize our mistake,

She has taken to sleep, lost in a world we are not allowed to take.

---

The hero on a rainy morning...

Thank you for reading this poem. I'm glad I wrote it. It makes me feel more aware and empathetic towards a girl I've known for more than eight years, a girl who isn't my sister, yet I've lived under the same roof as her, a girl I've seen striving to be good at everything she learns. It was a hard blow to her (and us) when news of the tragedy that befell her home reached us. We cannot really imagine how she feels to live in such a world. Yet, I've seen her laughing more than I've ever done, and I wonder at that. I don't like the communication gap we have. We don't have long talks. It gets awkward when we do try. I'm annoyed at something most of the times, and it nearly always goes to her. Sometimes I feel like crying if I think of my behaviour considering her situation, because it makes me feel ashamed of myself, of all of us who, after an initial "I'm sorry", tend to forget all about another's tragedy. Every life counts, and each one of it should be celebrated with love and care. Thinking about it just now, I think it would be a good amend to renew what I had started long ago and left too soon without completing it--to teach her to read and write in Hindi. What's the point of being a lover of words when I can't share the love with someone I actually do care about? You rock, V. You'll never read this, but from among this love-hate relationship, love rules. 

***

I am participating in the National Poem Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). It was a suggestion by a friend, and I readily accepted mostly because I had been craving to get back to blogging, but somehow had not been able to manage it. I've never been into poems. The only poetry book I own was acquired a few days ago, as a gift. But I hope to express my thoughts, realize some truths in the process of writing, and share it on this blog with NaPoWriMo. And oh, the most exciting part about this "project" is that I'm competing with this blogger-friend. We're going to see who writes better, each day. We realized that to get into that writing frame of mind, we needed to be regular, and this could just be the thing. And to keep us motivated, what's better than a challenge? We can self-judge (assuming you guys would be too busy to comment or anything), but you are free to give your opinion! It would inspire us even more! This is tagged #2 because it is April 2 today. We forgot to begin it yesterday. :P

You can participate in NaPoWriMo too. Click here. 

Some days are just luckless!

I discovered this in the drafts folder, half-written. It belongs to a wintry day in December.

I shouldn't be writing it down, because writing about anything gives it prominence, and if I give it prominence, I'll see more of it thanks to law of attraction (which works). But how else am I supposed to take it lightly? If I don't write it down on my blog, I'll keep thinking about it and stress over it and waste some more of my extremely limited, very precious time. Coming to the point, my day today was such that I can safely (and sadly) call it a day with the worst luck possible. (All right! I'm exaggerating, but sometimes you have little patience and then it gets tested in the most severe way!)

On some unlucky days...

In my current workplace (which has the worst rules, being a six-day work week in the first place), we are allowed to come late to work on three days a month ONLY, after which you start having your late days counted as leaves, and once you exhaust the limit of leaves (which is a paltry two days a month), you start having your pay cut for the day. (The one who made such rules will die.) I didn't think much of it before because I always reached well before the late time for the first two months. And then, as a commenter on one of my previous posts helpfully observed, came winters, when it became a bit too hard to get out of the warm bed in the chilly weather and be in office on time. Now, the 'late' mark is applicable even if you are a mere few seconds later than the deadline (which is so sadistic anyway!). In December, I reached late thrice just in the first week. It's not just the matter of getting up, but the entire thing of having to don so many clothes, dealing with your lethargic reflexes, rushing to the station and running on the platform to reach the 'right' train on time. It's maddening! And then there's the whole mad crowd of people in the metro, which is an entire issue altogether. To cut a long story short, I had to, in fact have to, be on time this entire month or else just work for the company for free (which they don't deserve, because they're already eating my head off for a bargain that suits only them).

I haven't even begun on the day. Ugh! I woke up fairly on time, did everything on time, but somehow, because it is just so cold, I got 5 minutes late and set off at an alarming 8.20 (my absolute latest before this was 8.16). Scoot catches a cold in winters and needs half a minute's warming up before it can start, so I put it in position while it warmed up, and then set off speedily. Having crossed two blocks, I realized I hadn't picked up my phone. Cursing everything I saw, I turned around and zoomed back, got the phone and started again, having actually lost hope for being on time today. Still, I'm a hard nut to crack, so I held on to shreds of hope, and found a place for Scoot under the tree where the roosting birds who use Scoot for their droppings, live.

The metro was packed, but after half an hour, I found a seat (yay!). It was still five minutes till deadline, so I walked and half-walked-half-ran with as much speed possible (because you haven't seen the crowd at that station, either in number or in type). The usual auto-ricksha driver waved to catch my attention (and such are his marketing skills that I'm now accustomed to look for him) and I gratefully sat in the auto. There was an armada of autos and buses on the road, but thankfully the driver seemed to be in as much a hurry as I was, or perhaps my sense of urgency was so tangible that he sensed it, so we got a clear road pretty much within a few seconds. There was some delay because the roads were bumpy, and I ended up punching in my finger 45 seconds after the deadline. There! Perhaps my labour of the day wouldn't even fetch me my dues (and I worked so hard today. Sucks).

The day finally ended. I take a lift from one of my co-workers, who came ten minutes late. When we finally moved, there was such a traffic jam as we never saw before. It was HUGE. That was when I actually imagined and saw the level of insanity in traffic and population explosion. The actual explosion for me came when my lift-giver said that since traffic wasn't moving an inch, she'd have to take an alternative route, and she actually convinced me that I could get to the station faster if I walked. I got down amidst traffic and started walking on the so-called pedestrian path (which was so high that you’d have to scramble on top of it instead of just step on it, like it should be!). As I stumbled along, because the path was not only high and broken but also uneven, cars, two-and-three wheelers, trucks (and cows) started moving because the traffic jam kind of broke. Talk about timing!

I’d ideally have wanted to take the opposite road, which was where my preferred metro station entrance was, but with such mad traffic (and mad people) it’d only have been inviting death, and I don’t fancy a death at their hands. As a result, glaring lights from thousands of vehicles met my eyes, making me stumble even more, especially as it had got dark by then and I had just realized, for the first time, that there was a large space on my right, dense with trees and bushes and whatever else. My breath came in sharp gasps and my heavy bag felt even heavier on my back. It was all I could do to hurry and not get kidnapped (because of course, these are common, everyday things in our fantastic country). I’m not even mentioning the horrid smells that met me each time I breathed just enough to avoid passing out. 

After what seemed like years, but were perhaps ten or fifteen minutes in reality, I reached the station and ran upstairs, not looking at anybody and promising to leave this job asap! (Still hasn’t happened. Anyone reading this knows of a workplace that is situated in a decent-enough area? PLEASE tell me) 

I don’t recall what happened after that. The train would definitely have been extremely full, I wouldn’t have got a seat (even when the train starts from that station), and I would have narrated the details of the day with much screaming and cursing at home (as a matter of fact, I do remember this). By the time I would have written half of this post, I’d have been tired and left it to complete later, never getting around to do it until today, when it seems irrelevant but is better than boring work at boring work! (It’s not always boring. Today is just one of those Fridays I feel angry that I have to come the next day too.)

If luck was measured in days, it was the worst luck day! :X

And this world is a madhouse.

Kbye.

PS—Not really bye, because I have to update! I’ve been busy with something… a secret project, say…and it’ll keep me occupied like anything till at least the next three weeks. After that, I might have some time to write and post the thoughts of my befuddled mind, but I’ll only let you in on the secret when the time is right. Wait for it!

PPS—Post December, I’ve entirely stopped bothering with keeping time to each minute in the morning. Even if I’m 5 minutes late, I’m still coolly devouring my current read (The Lord of The Rings right now), because so much of anxiety is just not worth it! Those who complain can go to hell.

Things I miss in the Republic Day Parade!

Edit: This post has been picked up by Blogadda for their Spicy Saturday Picks! Read away!

Every 26th January of my life begins with a warm breakfast at the dining table and the television voluntarily switched on. Everyone's in their pyjamas. We search for DD National or DD India (which get viewer-ship from us once a year) and watch the prelims for the annual Republic Day Parade. It's been a tradition in our household for as long as I remember, especially promoted by dad when we were kids and now promoted by me (or both of us) because I'm so used to it that not doing it seems like an anomaly. 

Over the years, I've observed some changes in the Parade that has nearly the same format and sequence. Some changes are good, while some are those I wish had not disappeared, because I have fond memories of having experienced the joy of those elements. Watching the Parade today, I realized that if I do not record them somewhere, perhaps I'll forget them forever. By writing them down, even if I have trouble recalling, they won't entirely be forgotten, and I can revisit this and relive them once again. 

A glimpse of the Parade from some past year

The stuff I miss includes:

1. Watching the air show on TV, then immediately running outside to the park right in front of our old home because the helicopters and aircraft were sure to pass by, very much visible to us. It was such a thrill to hear the heavy rumble and then watch those helicopters flying over our heads. Even though we could see them for mere seconds, it was somehow the best part of the Parade. One Republic Day Parade years ago, while we were still children, we neither heard nor saw them passing by. Dad told us that they'd changed the route, but we were hopeful. We ran outside the next two years as well, only to return disappointed. After that, over the years, we stopped expecting it.

2. Watching numerous dances performed by children from various schools all over the country. It lasted long, showed us colours of so many states, and felt wonderful. This time the number of performances was just 4-5 schools, most of them from Delhi itself. Duh.

3. Watching tableaus from nearly all states! It was like a revision of all Geography lessons at school. I miss watching the Delhi tableau and all others that were missing. Especially the CPWD tableau which was made entirely of flowers. (Though I hope it stopped because they decided not to pluck so many flowers. If not, then why? :/)

This essentially comes down to the fact that the entire duration of the Parade has been reduced. Everything seemed to run. Short. In pauses and quick glances. We saw the tablaeus (tukdis) but didn't really absorb what they were wanting to represent, because except for a few seconds' glance, we couldn't see much. And then there were all the missing things, invariably making it different from how we used to love them. Where was Punjab this time? Why were so many tableaus about government initiatives which we already see all the time, instead of a display of all that is Indian culture and uniqueness? I understand that we have to 'keep up with the times' and all that (like I really do like seeing more women in armed forces uniforms), but think about it, there's also been just one day in the year when everything all at once is being displayed. Why not stick to it?

There was always the strong feeling of patriotism just as the Parade began, only strengthening as it went on. The commentary used to be more detailed, so that we knew much more than just the names of things. Over the years, I feel we see more, hear less, and thus absorb less. The "feeling" of patriotism that the past years' Parade successfully brought out has become a little weak as we're rushing it up. Earlier, if we got up a little later, we would miss some of the Parade, but this time, we managed to get stuff done around the house before the Parade started. It's just not done. Nevertheless, many thanks to the organizers for making it happen, at least. It's just such a wonderful thing!

I asked my father what he misses from the past years' Parade. "I miss the commentary by Jasdev Singh (in Hindi) and Komal G.B. Singh (in English). It was delivered by such enthusiasm and style," he said.

What do you think?

Happy Republic Day, 2016!