WhapsApp

WhapsApp

Totally fictional.

Her ‘Last Seen At’ had been two twenty three,

Then we’d argued; she changed her privacy.

I cursed her in my status,

That did cause some hiatus,

Now for all I know she’s bloody blocked me.

To Mother

Mother

 Happy Birthday, Mother

Undergoing labour while pregnant with me

was (as you say) merely the beginning

of your hardships that you knew you would face

all the time when you would be raising

your second child (one of your complexion).

But you and father did the drill again -

being awake all night to my shouts and cries,

singing all those lullabies in vain.

You mouthed 'ma' and other monosyllables,

you watched with care as I toddled about,

doing uncertain things with certainty -

eating things that you would make me cough out.

So amidst toys and Cerelac I grew,

I learnt little by little the alphabet,

Yet both of you (helplessly) shared silence

with me when prying relatives could not get

me to speak much; you faced embarrassment;

you said nothing, just let me be my way

in front of those others. You loved me so.

Thus, freely and nonchalantly (as you say)

I grew older to be three - came the time

for school admissions, but there too I kept

quiet (apart from chewing candies offered

by some considerate teachers). You wept

seeing the results that weren't in my favour.

You and grandmother continued to pray

and fast to help me intonate better

my English introduction (as you say).

Finally having secured admission,

I started going to school - properly dressed

(with a white handkerchief pinned on my shirt -

something upon which the class teacher stressed).

Time passed. You were cautious with me - banning

all wrestling shows on T.V., permitting

cartoons only when I did my homework,

which teachers back at school saw befitting

a class fourth child. Mother, I remember

how you would check the school daily diary,

how over Maggi (with vegetables)

you would make your regular enquiry

about how the day went (was it boring?)

When I fell ill, you used hydropathy

And what not to get me alright again,

comforting me and staying up beside me,

taking leave the next day for both of us.

You would also dress me for annual day,

You would listen to me recite my poems

and improve 'pon the cadence (as you say).

You said not a thing when I taped over

your precious audio cassettes with my voice,

You knew your naughty son had the itch

for misadventures and he had no choice,

but to be. You understood everything -

How I could never go learning beyond

the octet on your old harmonium

(of which you were so entirely fond).

You shared with me the important lessons

about love and the principles of life.

You shared over our evening coffee

the secrets of leading a content life.

I remember you dropped me at the school gate

and later picked me up on the farewell -

How you told me that an important phase

was past now, how to us school was a shell.

College began. I gained little freedom

and money (to which you from your own purse

would add), being reminded of your old days

(at IPCW), then in reverse -

I re-started college at a place far

from home. Life has, since then, not been the same.

You are far. And although you are on Skype

and Whatsapp (with your photo and your name),

there is some void. It explains its presence

with your absence. But I'm consoled daily

with your sweetness-filled voice over the phone,

By how when I reach home you hug me tightly,

How I throw the luggage down to hug back,

How you cry when I leave for the station,

How days between those days seem to fly past,

in doing remaining days' calculation.

It has been a fifth of a century

loving you, more so with each passing day,

and albeit the distance between us, your

love reaches me here from that far away.

I remember lessons you have taught me,

I remember our friendship (as you say).

Mother, I'll be home when time next allows,

But for now, I wish you "Happy Birthday."

P.S. - 

Mother, I remember once asking you

if given a choice between us two, who

Did you love more – Samridhi or me?

And you’d rather diplomatically,

Say - “Son, I don’t want to tell you lies.

Both of you are just like my two eyes,

How can I pick one over the other?”

I remember sulking on this, mother,

But as (in some measure) maturity

Has (finally, as you’ve prayed) dawned on me,

I do, after all this time, understand

That your witty answer will always stand

The same way; and there lies in that answer

The answer to why you are great, Mother.

I love you, Ma.

Friends, Friends’ Friends and their Friends (Part I)

Friends, Friends’ Friends and their Friends

(Part I)

(For Ms. A, Ms. A and of course Mr. A)

He: Hello! Have you arrived here

Back in Delhi? Let’s meet somewhere!

I: Oh yes! I’m back. How are you?

He: I am fine, how do you do?

I: Similarly. What about

The coming Sunday to go out?

He: Sure. Would you meet Ms. A too?

I have an inkling that you two

Would get along very nicely,

More so if you behaved wisely.

I: You said she is important,

Fine, I will try some improvement

In my conduct towards strangers

And avoid possible dangers

To your thriving relationship

That makes your relentless heart skip

A beat on regular basis;

Oh! I’ve seen many such cases.

He: Greater Kailash, one p.m.

Sharp; someplace around we’ll meet them….

I: ‘Them’? How many…wait...who will

Host the meeting? (Read – pay the bill?)

He: Don’t worry you miser. A

Might come with a friend; I will pay.

I (to myself): Settled then that,

A little food, some chit-chat,

Will suffice; So I will agree.

I (to Him): Next Sunday? I’ll see.

 (To be Concluded...)

A Fork In The Road

A Fork In The Road

For all those who have parted ways,

but will remain with me always.

Our travels together, today,

End not at our destination

But at a fork somewhere midway

And I can sense hesitation

In your silence. (Can you in mine?)

Are you too searching for words, which

Will assuage this pain, make things fine-

Wipe the tears I shall shed, and stitch

The wounds that this farewell has brought.

Are there some words that can console

My ailing heart, or is there not

Any way for us to cajole

Destiny into fulfilling

Our desire to not separate?

Can we not delay this parting-

Defy circumstance and make fate

Wait some more; lest this be the last

Time we see each other closely?

Can we not change the bygone past-

The moment because of which we

Might be standing at a crossroads?

We look at the distance ahead,

I am uncertain what it bodes.

I am sure we have been misled,

By Time that made us both believe

The conceit of Eternity.

We see now that Time can deceive

People escaping reality.

You look at me, I look at you;

Between us, there appears to grow

incertitude-what must we do

Before our indecisions slow

Us down and predicaments start

To weaken our resolution?

Let us go our own ways and part,

That is the only solution.

Perhaps in your own silent way

you have accepted this instance-

This divergence that we today

Can't choose to offer resistance.

If this be our shared destiny,

Then so be it. Let us move on

Different roads that might not see

a convergence that we'll dwell 'pon

In our false hopes and promises

(I will, but you don't I will pray).

Let us, with our goodbyes, end this

Misery that leaves nothing to say.

I know not what our futures hold

As we bid each other adieu,

And even as our paths unfold

I know I'll never forget you. To you all.