Sometimes ...

Sometimes you have to be silent ....
In order to be heard ....
You have not spoken a word ...
Never ... anywhere ...
Others have been vociferous...
Speaking volumes ...
Speaking ill ...
Quoting you ...
But, you never uttered a word ....
Why?

Is your silence ...
Conveying a message to me?
Is your silence ...
The answer I seek?
In your silence does the truth lie?
If you had said it....
We wouldn't have suffered so much?

Is our love and heartbreak...
The two sides of the same coin?

Sometimes I wonder ....
Just as I am wondering now.

Memories ....

They haunt you ...
They taunt you ...
They traumatize you ...
Yet they are memories ...
Some events that happened ...
That left an indelible mark on your mind, heart and soul....
A tattoo that can never be removed ...
A grubby mark that can't be cleaned ...
Tried everything to forget you ....
Can't....
I really can't let go ....

Memories ... my memories with you ...
Are killing me ....
I am dying ...
Dying a slow death ...
A ghostly pall and gloom ...
Looms over my mortal self ....
Blood drained from my being .....
Am dying a slow death ...
Can't live  without you anymore.
The day the blogs stop ....
Know that I am gone ....
Gone forever.

Then only memories will remain ....
Memories that will haunt you.

More on Tea ...

Angad makes tea .....
Just the way Maa used to make it ...
I never taught him ....
But, my morning cuppa is made by him each day ...
Come rain or thundershower ....
He has her qualities ...
Anusuya boils water and adds a tea bag to it and gives me ...
The evening tea is made by her....
She looks like Maa ....
And, has the most beautiful hair like Maa had predicted ...
She is beautiful but tomboyish ...
Angad looks like you and his father ...
But, has feminine sentiments... like Maa....
always trying to bring peace ...
Keeping everyone happy ...
Anusuya is like you ....
But, Angad's anger is a volcano like mine ...
It has to be taken care of ...
I don't know how.
Anusuya is witty like Maa...
And, a stand up comedienne like her ....
There is nothing of me in them...
Thank God!

Ah! The topic was tea....
I like my tea well brewed and served ...
Angad knows that ...
So my morning tea while I blog at 5 am ...
Is made by him voluntarily....
Even on a Sunday.
He serves the tea to me with bananas .....
Or Rusk or cheese toast or french toast....
Then he switches on my favourite TV channel....
And all this while I blog or answer mails ....
Then I get ready and leave the home by 6:30 am ....
He escorts me down and hails a Rickshaw for me...
Then, he goes home to bid Anusuya bye as ....
By then she is ready for her school.

A daily routine except for Sundays.....
Discipline ... fauji discipline....
Everybody loves Angad and Anusuya...
You would be proud of them.

The Art of Tea making ....

She used to make tea so artfully ...
Early in the morning ....
I would sit on the Kitchen slab next to the Gas stove ....
And watch her make tea ....
I was the DIL (Daughter in Law) ....
And she was the MIL (Mother in Law)....
Kya ulta zamana tha ...
But pyar tha ....
She would first boil the water in a vessel ....
With herbs ...
Then pour it into the kettle ...
 And the tea cups ... to keep them warm ...
Then reload the same in the vessel and add the tea leaves and milk ....
Then, after it had boiled over ....
She would pour the concoction ...
Back again into the kettle ...
Let it boil in it once ....
Then the kettle off the Gas stove ...
And covered with a tea cozy .....
On a tray with the sugarfree capsules...
A pot of sugar ..
Lots of Rusk ...
One each for everyone else but lots for me ....
Then, we would take it to the porch or the lawn or sometimes in the lobby ....
And, wait for the patriarch of the family to return ....
Return from his morning walks ...
And, then the whole family had tea together ....
Didn't understand the funda then ....
Now, when I do ....
I don't have time for tea ...
No family gatherings ....
No tea,,,
No breakfast ..
No Lunch ...
No Evening tea,,,
No Dinner ...
Nobody is ever there ...
A hectic life ....
Where there is no one together at any given time ....
A fast paced monotonous city life ...
The Art of Tea Making ....
Lost for now ...
Now it is cutting from roadside tea stalls ...
Or in Restaurants ...
But, that tea ....
And the flavor of real love and labor is lost.

If one has to learn to love a man ....
Learn it from her ...
She loved and worshipped him ...
That was true love....
You don't find it anymore.

Memory ....

Your memory is far better than mine ....
Mine is clogged with foggy ideas ...
My memory has lapsed ...
My memory is totally erased ...
My memory is nightmares ....
My memory is fazed with drugs ....
My memory is just a memory now ....
Nothing there ....
But a vast emptiness ....
After HIM ..... My soul left the body ...
What remained was just the mortal remains ...
Nothing else ....
I don't belong to this world ....
Kept the name ....
As that was my identity ....
Today have lost that too ...
I don't know who I am ...
Just a zombie walking the walk ...
And, talking the talk.

Mataji had a brilliant memory ....
An encyclopedia ....
The keeper of our History ...
Every moment ....
Every event ....
Every thing was at the tip of her tongue ...
A great friend and confidante'....
I miss her ...and our moments together ...
Rusk and tea ....
Pure Almond oil .....
Watching TV ....
THE Grand old lady ...
Who had lesser wrinkles than any of us.

Memories ..... that's all that is left after all.

Deleted ....

I deleted a lot from the past ...
So, I don't have your email id ....
Please send a tester mail if you have mine ...
 There's a lot that I erased ...
Now, memory loss ...
After losing all ...
But, am still slap jack happy ....
Coz' I have no burdens to carry ....
Just the baggage he left behind .....
After handing and taking over takes place ....
I can rest in peace....
Till then,
I toil daily to get them the best money can buy .....
But, not happiness....
Nor a family.
With me .... they will never have a family ....
Without me ....
I guess they will be happy.

I wasn't made for this World ....
I was a mistake of the Gods ...
I was a mistake of the Creator ....
I was the mistake of mankind ....
I was always a mistake .... for everyone.

I tried elimination of the mistake ....
But, survived the ordeal ....
With me gone ...
The world will be a better place to stay ...
A lot of people will heave a sigh of relief....
So many secrets ....
So many truths ...
Hidden in the depths of my mind and heart ......
The skeletons hidden in my cupboard.

So, I tried deleting all ...
The process is on ...
It takes time ....
I can neither forgive nor forget.

CTRL + ALT + DELETE

The Blame Game ...

The Guru of all fame ....
Fifteen minutes of limelight ...
The blame game ...
We all do ...
Some consciously ...
Some unconsciously ...
But, we all do it ....
THE BLAME GAME .....

We blame God for all our miseries ...
Gawd ... have a heart ...
Have you met him or her or IT ....
No, Then why blame God for all your shortcomings ?

Blame yourself ...
Blame that heart of yours that can't decipher ....
The code ...
The Good man or the Bad man ...
Blame your eyes ...
That can't see the truth behind the evil grin ....
Blame your mind ...
That disbelieves your gut feeling ....
Blame YOURSELF.

Blame the rose tinted romance you feel ...
For it is blind ...
It can't see the intent of the evil man ....
Blame only yourself ...
No one else.

The last ACT ...

They all say .... One for the road ...
This is my last act ....
My last performance ...
My last appearance ....
But, they all make a comeback ...
We all do.

Just one bloody life to live ...
How can you just chuck it all up ...
and, move away ...
No ways ...
Gear up and fight ...
Fight the battles of your life ...
Fight your demons ...
Fight your fears ....
Fight those tears that well up in your eyes ...
Just FIGHT ....
Don't let this be your last act ...
It is only beginning ...
Lo Behold! The curtain is rising ...
Let's go take a bow ...
After the performance.