One Amazing Thing

"I screwed up my life big-time, a lot of ways. Did a lot of stupid stuff. But at least I saw one amazing thing."

------One Amazing Thing by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni


2013 was a blow. It was a year that filled our lives with much sorrow. It was a time of emotional ups and downs. Two deaths in the family and a birth. My father-in-law's sudden death was followed by an unexpected calamity - the departure of my only brother. I was expecting my second child, my daughter, whose arrival I could not in any way celebrate. I became cold in many ways. I started forgetting people's birthdays, something I had been very particular about since I always liked to wish them on their special days. I would hate when someone remembered mine, because all it reminded me was the last surprise celebration my brother had planned for me. I stopped praying. It seemed futile to sit with folded hands and eyes closed when there was no one out there to listen. I looked around and saw death, loss, grief, pain everywhere. I wasn't the only one to suffer. I would look at a solitary cloud floating in the sky and that would take my back to my brother. It was as if he was in it, flying freely while I stood on the ground searching for him, in vain. When on the road, I would be lost in the deep woods that bordered NJ freeways. They would beckon my spirit silently and I seemed to follow, hoping that he was there, calling me, waiting to talk to me.

But he was not there. He could not be.

I had to come back, empty-handed, always.

Life was utterly hopeless.

I had to find a way out. But I did not know how.

Image Source

Then one day, a close friend of mine called me. She was feeling very low. I tried to cheer her up on the phone, Later I wrote something for her. It was my first blog post - For You, My Dear Friend. It was from here that I named my Blog, When I Stopped to Smell a Rose. I did not know what would happen next. It wasn't as if all my agony had swept away. No, I still felt that void. I don't really thing it can be filled in any ways. But it did touch my core in an inexplicable way. My heart ached to write.

I had started on a journey almost unawares. I was clueless as to where it would lead me. But I was willing to be led. Some unheard voice guided me along. Some unseen hand nudged me gently and I started walking.

It was later that I realized a strange thing. I had posted my first poem, my first writing on my grandmother's birthday - October 15.  It was a strange feeling, an astonishing realization, a sign I willingly acknowledged as a blessing. It was an amazing thing to see that tiny speck of light amidst the bleakest, gloomiest part of my life.

I remembered all the birthdays I had celebrated with her, the cards I had made for everyone special to me, the happy moments that had given me so much precious memories to hold on to. Do you think I cried then? No, I cleansed myself of the heaviness of the sorrow that was crushing me.

I got up, and I decided to walk around, with others, to lighten them up, to cheer them up.
To smile.
To make them smile.

Through the foggy blindness of my pain, through the blurry denseness of others' misery, a hope sprung inside. And I decided to write.

I have continued. Somehow, despite occasional setbacks, I have continued. What started on October 15, 2014, has completed two years.

My blog has survived.
My hopes have survived.

The lone distant cloud still fills my heart with yearning and the deep woods still intrigue me.
But something stays put. Something holds me together. The healing continues.

All I need to do now is to extend a Big Thanks to all of you, my family, my friends, my fellow bloggers, who have tolerated me despite my irregularity.

I never thought I would be here. But who can, really, even if one plans. Do we ever have any absolute knowledge of even one moment of future. No, I don't think so.

But then, if we had the knowledge, would it be easy? The answer is again NO.

As I end the post, I want to share one more thing.
Last night, we dined outside. It would have been just like any other moment of eating outside but for one thing. Our table was next to a family who was celebrating an occasion. It was a very special one. The eldest member of their family, their mother-in-law, had turned 90! It was amazing to be part of this celebration although we were not part of the family. As we extended our wishes to the birthday girl, my heart was filled with amazement. I felt after a long time that birthdays are special!



Linking to Sanch Vee 's #FridayReflections  prompt

Did you think you’d be doing what you’re currently doing in life? Write a personal essay.

The Pain of Sweet Memories......

Image Source

I recently came across this poem by D.H.Lawrence. The novelist is famous for his exploration of repressed emotions and Oedipal conflict in some of his major works. This poem was a pleasant discovery. While I tried to locate Lawrence in the poem, my mind took me away to a time in future when I would be old and my son would remember the times when he was little and together we had played at the piano. It was nostalgia of a different kind.

Then my mind hovered back to my nest of childhood. I saw my mother singing ghazals. I saw my grandfather reading his newspaper while my grandmother opened her trunks to show me her crochet shawls she had done when she was young. I heard the hearty laughter of my father from the basement where his office was. The door to the basement stairs was ajar and I was spying to hear his joke and tell my mom. All I could hear was his laugh - energetic and unrestrained. I then saw my brother taking me back home from school. He was teasing me since once again I had failed to notice that our car was parked right in front and I had passed it and climbed the school-bus. He had honked but I was lost in my own world. I didn't hear and I didn't see. And he made a good joke out of it. Okay, I seemed angry at first but I joined him soon. He was so lively, how could his spirit not touch my soul. 

Just then, I felt my cheeks were wet. Ah, tears....they were so slippery, I could not contain them longer. Taking a deep breath, I wiped them and looked around. What was it about memories? They made us smile, they made us cry, and still we clung to them as if they were the oars that would help us sail in the ocean of life. We held on to them as if they were the wings that would help us fly when the stormy wind tried to lead us to unknown paths.

How far had I come, I thought. Physically, I could never touch my grandparents, my father and my brother any more. They were on unknown shores on unseen lands. I saw them sometimes in my dreams, but just like dreams, they vanished when I opened my eyes. I wanted to touch my mom but we sat miles away from one another. But her presence was a solace. Like a light-house she shines, guiding me from afar, frustrating my fears, encouraging me to sail on.

Was I happy at that moment? I cannot say. I was happy to relive the past. But it was gone now, and that gave me pain. I missed my brother the most for I could not say my good-bye to him when he departed. Since I could not talk to him, I wrote this for him. May be his soul can read it.

The Tales I Will Tell

I wasn't born just a daughter 

But a sister too - 

A sister to you....

To me you were

Part of my childhood,

My other essence

Like two buds of the same plant

We grew together

Fighting for sunshine and space

Blooming despite the stormy winds

Striding many paths

Crossing many hurdles

And then one day, I decided to uproot myself -

Landing on alien soil

I persisted

While you floundered 

On familiar grounds

I knew not you would wither away

Leaving me alone

Stranded 

Abandoned

You always called yourself 'big'

Boasted you would forever be elder to me

As you were born before me

But as I venture forward with my beating heart,

And age 

I search for you

Futilely

Vainly

Wanting to tell you

I have put more miles to my strides than you

Wanting to brag about my age

To show you I have more candles on the cake than yours

But also to tell you

I never wanted to be 'bigger' to you

That even when you are gone

You still remain and will forever be my 'Big' brother….

Our childhood has vanished

Just like you

But our memories will be carried forward

In the tales I will tell

About you and me

Tales of a little sister and her 'big' brother.....

Linking to IndiSpire Edition 126

Linking to Day 6 of Write Tribe Festival of Words # 5

Delighting Only in the Flight.....

Image Source here

The red light brought his mind and car to a halt. He had been thinking a lot lately. His heart had questions his mind could not answer. He wished for a navigation system that could steer his life towards happiness and fulfillment. He had everything one could wish for in terms of prosperity. Then, why did he feel empty? He looked for answers in books. Eliot's poetry made him ponder over the hollowness inside him.

We are the hollow men

  We are the stuffed men.

 He felt stuffed too - stuffed with satiety. He knew not what to anticipate. Deadlines met, landmarks achieved, milestones reached. What lay ahead? What was it all for? For whom?

He felt hot. The air-conditioner was working fine. He needed to breathe. He inhaled deeply. It did not help. He opened his window. Car honks blared. Impatient glares stared at him. Traffic piled up from all directions. 'Empty men', he murmured quoting Eliot.

"Balloons, colorful balloons - your kids will be happy....Balloons....Sir...Sir...Take a balloon sir....just one sir." The voice startled him. He had heard it in ages - the unfeigned, unrefined voice. He looked around but could see nothing. He sank back in his seat and raised the volume of his radio.

Barely a few seconds passed when he heard the voice again. The peppy music that was playing in the car seemed artificial in comparison to the voice. He shut the music at once and straightened up to look outside. That's when he saw him there - a boy, probably nine or ten year old. He turned around just in time and their eyes met. Thin feet sprang towards him with an unmarked agility.

"Balloon sir - one for your kid. Which color you want sir - blue, green, yellow, red.....?"

"I don't have kids."

"Oh...." The confident gaze fell just for a moment.

"Girl-friend sir? Girls like it sir.....Surprise her sir.....I have heart balloon sir....See...?...."

"No girl-friend."

"Oh....sorry sir...."

He started moving.

"Here, take this money...."

"No Sir....Thank you...."

He moved to the next car.

"Listen. Come back....."

"I don't need it but give me the blue one."

"Blue, Sir? Good color Sir My favorite sir..". A big smile passed as the boy untangled the ribbon of the blue balloon and passed it on to his customer. As he took the money and waved goodbye, the man asked him, " Why are you so happy?"

The boy started laughing. "Sir, you not happy? Big car sir....suited-booted....not happy? Joking sir?"

This stunned the man. "Want a ride?"

The boy jumped up at the thought. "Me Sir? Ye-----yes sir.."

"Come inside. Quick...."

The boy clumsily put the inflated balloons in the car. Then he sat next to the driver.

"Belt...."

"What Sir.....?"

"Nothing." The man leaned forward and buckled up the little fellow.

They waited a few more minutes before the congestion cleared up. Questioning glances from around seemed to agitate the restless driver, but the boy beamed with joy. He even waved in response to some lousy looks.

"My name is Amit. What's yours?"

"Sameer, Sir.....No music in car Sir....?" The boy asked.

"Oh yes.." He turned on the radio.

The boy started tapping to the tunes. He seemed familiar with the song as he was humming too.

"Your car is good sir...very good. But why no girlfriend sir? "

"What do you do the whole day Sameer?"

"I sell balloons Sir."

"No school?"

"Sometimes Sir. Not every day."

"Why are you so happy?"

"You not happy Sir?"

"I don't know."

"No family sir?"

"No."

"Friends?"

Amit didn't answer.

"Girl-friend Sir. You need a girl-friend." Sameer giggled.

Amit managed to smile. "See sir. She will make you happy sir. Why live alone Sir? "

"You have a girl-friend?"

"What Sir? Joking Sir....!" Sameer smiled.

Amit stopped to buy Sameer an ice-cream. As he was about to pay the vendor, Sameer asked, "You not eating sir?"

Amit took one for himself.

Sameer licked the ice-cream greedily, savoring every bit of it. Amit finished his quickly.

"Let me drop you back now." Amit steered through the busy road. They reached the spot they had started from.

"Bye Sir. Thank you Sir."

"Bye Sameer."

"Sir...Girl-friend sir....Then you will be happy Sir..", shouted the boy one last time.

Amit smiled as he watched the boy slowly disappear with his colorful balloons. His prance and his artless smile had impacted upon him like a balm for his smarting soul. He got down from his car, took the blue balloon and released it in the sky. He watched it fly away lazily, unmindful of the destination, delighting only in the flight.

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.


You might also like

Story the Broken Pencil Wrote

Darkness Scares Me not, It Stares at my Greatness...

If Only Things Had Been Normal

The Board