Letter to the Unknown Reader Series 1 - Peace of mind

 Dearest Reader,

Hope you’re keeping well. My week had dollops of calm thrown in and I realised, that peace is something which you do not search externally, it is nothing but a state of mind. It is unbelievable how in the frenetic pace of this city called Mumbai, we are chasing our elusive dreams of God know what and running a race against time. It is in these crazy moments, we feel breathless and exhausted in the murky waters of vicious cycle of life.

When your tired heart needs a respite, catch a day which has no agenda. No ‘To do’ list,  no household chores, nothing specific to complete, just be. I have realised, that the best days of our lives were the lazy childhood afternoons spent during our vacation doing nothing or indulging in whatever caught our fancy. If we can replicate those childhood nothingness, our body and mind heaves a sigh of relief. Just to watch the cloud float by, in azure blue sky, or the rippling leaves catching the sunlight or just watching the white fluttering cranes forming a V and flying past to some unknown destination, the soothing fingers if Mother Nature kissing you to sleep. I have often spent hrs seeing two lone eagles flying high up in the sky. Swaying and gliding past each other, engaged in their own games. It got me peace, dollops of them, like a cooling ice cream on a hot summer day.

I gently hold on to them, my free source of guilty pleasure. Keep them close to heart. The free spirit which thrives inside the shell of a body, dances in glee in the dappled moonlight that seeps through skyscrapers and sheathes the green patch of Arey that hugs our back wall. As the lone cuckoo sings in mirth in the moonshine, I live my oneness with the Universe. Enjoying the ride.

So dearest reader, find out the calm, snatch away your peace from the hectic urban life you lead. You may find it in the nuzzle of your pet, the pages of the bed side book you’re reading, on a fallen flower or the teary sunlight amidst mad monsoon. Live it slow and relish every passing minute of these precious time. These makes live worth living.

Always yours,

Pocket full of life

Letter to the Unknown Reader Series I - So be it

 Dearest Reader,

At times prose takes backseat as words don’t come with cohesiveness of a sensible flow. So here I go -

Your happiness is contagious

 And I’m dying inside. 

Your priorities are glaring 

And I’m blinded by them. 

Your life is complete 

While mine remains empty. 

You live life 

And I die death. 

You embrace 

And I let go. 

You smile 

And I shed lonely tears. 

You walk towards your rainbow horizon of dreams 

And I tread the path of dreamless darkness. 

Your heart is filled with hope 

And mine has despair written all over. 

You are a déjà vu which 

I don’t want to relive,

But I have to bear the burden of. 

You are a life lesson, I had already learnt 

And need not repeat.

Shielding myself from the pain, 

Cause your smile will always hold hands 

With my tears,

Such a company I‘d like to avoid. 

I knew this will happen,

Yet hoped for something else. 

I knew it was never meant to be, 

But prayed that it manifests. 

My heart was forever broken 

And soul was empty of life, 

Yet the pain of another falling piece, 

Did hurt a thousand times more….

Re-dying was not as effortless 

As I thought it would be.

Our paths crossed,

But never became one. 

And the gut wrenching pain it inflicted, 

Was like a thousand sins burning you alive. 

You will go your way 

And I will walk mine. 

I will pray fervently, 

Life doesn’t bring us face to face ever. 

I don’t want my remains to watch 

Its destruction again. 

And so she went her way and he his. Star crossed lovers, may they rest in peace.

Always yours,

Pocket full of life

Letter to the Unknown Reader Series 1 - Story of Living and Dying

 Hello dearest Reader,

I’m back again with another of my reminiscences. Two year back, on such a lovely late afternoon, I had my tryst with destiny. A part of me died but I survived because of some blessed soul who breathed his last, but kept a piece of him living inside me. I got a liver which saved my life and my doner gave away his to save mine.

Few things I understood that day after living through a 14 hour long surgery, surviving is difficult, death is inevitable and happiness is a choice. Every breath I have taken since I came out of the OT on the fated 11th August, had been spent on embracing the life lessons. I realised that if I have been given a new lease of life, I must have some purpose to fulfill in the world, and if not for anyone else, at least for that person who couldn’t live but granted me life, I should be living with a vengeance in its fullest glory.

I try to end my day with a clean heart, which did not wish any one ill. I complete my daily tasks in a manner by which, if I die the next moment, I will not have any regrets. And I live in happiness of the moment. Every moment in our life is death of previous second passed and a possibility for the coming second. The tick in the clock is reminder of life and death dancing in a loving embrace. Where one ends, the other begins.

We come into this world alone and helpless and we die in the same manner. It is quirk of nature that in between these milestones we creat billions of connections and weave an intricate web of Karma. We assign people or external factors to be the master of our destiny. Bestow ownership of our joy and grief in the mercy of others. I believe we are entitled to a choice. The miracle of being a human is to be able assert our choices. And I wish to choose HAPPINESS every time over, even in the face of grief , heartbreaks, setbacks, pain and loss.

I choose to see light, in the dancing butterflies, the fiery clouds on a traffic packed road, amidst beautiful saree and innumerable medicines, between hospitals and shopping malls, with friends who nurses the soul and doctors who’ve become friends.  I choose to not hold anyone responsible for my happiness. Fir my choices are mine and I take responsibility for my life. Life taught me that your closest of relations cannot die with you, however much they care. Hence one needs to learn to live with happiness with oneself , however difficult is the surrounding. I live on my own terms with the courage of a soul who has kissed life and came back. I do not compromise on my joie de vivre and I do not shy away from the struggles of life.

With utmost humility and gratitude filled heart, I thank the Universe to allow me to live the life I lead. I have prayers and best wishes for every soul that have crossed my path and those who have not. And I live to sing the hymn of Miracle of the Universe. To all of you who have battled life with fierceness of a warrior, who have been care givers and have the fraternity of support system for warriors like us - Thank you for making this world a better place.

Yours always,

Pocket full of life

Letter to the Unknown Reader Series 1 - Mommy - WIP

 Hello dearest reader,

Hope all is well with you in your side of the world. Mumbai rains have thawed a bit. The relentless lashing has ceased and we can see the sunny smile once in a while peeking through the rain clouds. And just as to bring that much needed cheer, I had a celebration this last week. My baby boy who’s no more a baby even if I stretch my imagination, turned 16. Today’s story is about a mommy still in the making of a 16 year old lad.

My son came into my life a month early, a little premature suffering from infantile jaundice and spent 12 days in NICU. I was allowed to see him 4 days after he was born all wired up with machines and resting in a glass cubicle to hold his fragile life. And the first thought which flashed in my mind was, “Is this what I reproduced, looking like some bird fledgling with tiny hands and legs”. The mother of the baby refused to take birth on that day.

The day my son was born numerous tests were done on the mother and I was detected with a chronic liver decease. I was told my days were numbered as there were no medicines available to mankind for my treatment at that point of time.Then the struggle began hard, fast and innovative. My baby took the reins in his hands to bring me up to be a Mom I required to be. 

First 6 years, his chubby smiles, his naughty playfulness, his baby anger and his no tantrum nature made my days enchanting and magical. I was a working mom, and spent most of my waking hours, building a career, which I’m immensely proud of. My boy worked behind the scenes teaching me how to nurture, how to give, how to love, how to express joys and how to fend my cub with a fierceness of a tigress. I was so well taught that I could overlook my dreams, my happiness, my sorrows, my griefs and my tiredness to provide my baby with a home, where he could belong. What a wonderful journey we had, his baby hands guiding me all through.

When he turned six, my condition deteriorated and I was hospitalised. I was under trial drugs at that point of time and unfortunately the experiment failed me. My doctors were very candid and gave me two  months to two years to live. Given that meds still were at the mercy of pharma scientists trying to come into existence in labs across the globe, I had to relearn a few things. A new phase started, of being a mom which was a need of the moment for my baby boy.

We worked together in making him independent, emotionally strong, calm, with a rational head over his baby shoulders. I was harder than an army general training his troops. My boy learnt to cook, get ready, do his own stuff, keep himself busy with his hobbies and had social life filled with family and friends. I taught myself hard not to express love, attachment and any kind of motherly affection cause my boy needed to learn to live without a mom. And oh boy! What a success story it was. I became his competitor, I became the one he has to defeat in every possible argument, he did his best to outdo me in every turn of his growing up days.

When my son turned fourteen, finally my turn came to kiss life a good bye and embrace the shadows. But as destiny would have it, I survived. One liver transplant later, with gentle hands of cancer touching my body, I still breathed the day out of life. My days are still numbered, it’s just that I have enough to see my son grow up to build his own home. I have enough to give him time to fly the nest and then his mom can stop being the home and rest. And that’s good enough.

From his fourteenth to sixteenth birthday, I have learnt to be his mom, who’s a friend, a companion, a comrade, a co-conspirator. It’s an adventure how my boy nurtured me to be the Mom he needs. How I’m still a mom in the making as I evolve with my son growing up. It’s a wonderful journey to let yourself grow into a relationship. My son’s mom did not take birth, the day he was born. He had to work damn hard to give birth to his Mommy and he’s still working on it…Mommy in the making-Work-in-progress.

Hope you’ll can embark in your own journey of growing into relationship which matters to you. It may not be mother-son, it can be any other in this beautiful world. I urge you to give yourself a fair chance to grow into it, nurture it and thrive it in. Build it the way time and life demands as they flow by. It’s irrelevant whether these beautiful bonds have a name or not. If there are two human beings on either sides of the relationship, it’s worth the effort to embark in the journey of a lifetime.

Always yours,

Pocket full of life