#20: In Response to Kathua

The reactions on Facebook, Twitter and the news

Everything spoken so far or left unsaid

Are all staring at me like a massive collage

Painted in deepening shades of red.

My head says this is the time to speak up

what the powerful and the powerless need to hear

I know anger, rage, courage are the right things to feel

but right now, all my heart feels is fear.

For how do you survive a society that uses

politics, religion and patriarchy to build confining walls?

A society already fractured by a line that someone once carelessly drew

Lessons from that bloody history clearly forgotten by all

And when history falls short, maybe myth is the antidote

As my instincts tell me to gather the women, all our girls

And go looking for a place where the earth splits open

Hopefully leading us all to a safer world.

A world where justice is not auctioned at the doorsteps of the powerful

A world where we speak of responsibilities that privilege brings to our boys and men

A world where our colour, our food, our gods don’t divide us

A world where we don’t ever fail our daughters again.

I don’t know how many more beastly acts and deaths there need to be,

Till creating such a world will be a shared quest

But for now, my daughter and I walk hand in hand

As we make our way to our street corner protest.

(prompt ABCB rhyming scheme)

#3: To my grieving friend

I promise 

That when you finally look up

From the depths of your grief

To open the doors that

You've shut yourself behind

I'll be on the other side

To greet you with a large latte 

And an even larger hug. 

Daring you to step out 

Into all the love you've be missing

In those moments I'd been wishing 

That once, just once you'd let me in 

And I'll sit down besides you 

Listening to every story, every memory you hold

Smiling each time you tear up

Crying each time you smile

So you remember the many colours hidden in  those memories

That you have so blindly been sorting as black or white. 

And in the dark of the night 

When you finally breathe in the light 

into your body emptied of all that grief, 

I'll stand right beside you  as you gently drop those stories 

Along with the unanswered questions  the loneliness, the regret, 

into the burning fire 

And with you, hope that the smoke rising heavenwards

Tells her how much she is remembered. 

And even as we wipe away the tears,  

I will draw you a path with the ashes left behind,

Back to everyone and everything in life 

that is worth smiling for. 

And though my words don't reach you

As you sit shoulders slumped with grief 

behind those tightly shut doors. 

Right on the other side 

With a large latte 

and an even larger hug, 

I'll be waiting.

I promise. 

Remembering Mom

Grief on some days flows like a quiet, rippling stream
On other days like thunderous waves, crashing around,
But it hardly matters if the approach is gentle or wild, It always ends up eroding the very grounds
On which I try hard to anchor with the busyness of everyday life

Grief ruthlessly cuts through any activity, speech or thoughts
And in that moment, sweeps me right off my feet
Leaving me either overwhelmed or so numb and still
That I am not even sure if I can breathe.
And I am mostly left in a crumble that seems so hard to smoothen.

I am yet to get to a place when I can foresee moments,
when this grief will overcome me, though I have tried.
I would run out of metaphors to explain
The countless ways in which the memories hide,
And unpredictably peep out, leak, spring out of things.

A phone call, lavender soap, a half completed sweater,
Medicine strips, Yardley powder, R K Laxman books
The sari bags tucked away in a wardrobe I hardly open,
Red bindis, cloves, dishes she loved to cook,
I thought decluttering, packing up and moving will help.
It didn’t.

I know I need to give into the flow of this grief,
For in the pain lies the hope that in some way,
It will also sweep away the guilt, the regret, the loss I carry
Behind the semblance of normalcy I put up every day.

And though it seems like grief is winning every single encounter.
I know there will be a time when grief knocks me down,
Yet I will get right up, and win that game fair and square,

And I will remember to breathe again and not think
Of what could have been, but be grateful for what was there.

And then I know I will finally be ready to look up at the night skies,
Past my own need to hear her voice once again
Past the mom-shaped hole she left in my world.
And see her – no longer a diabetic, a wife or even a mom,
But simply her daddy’s little girl,
Walking hand in hand with him, finding peace at last.