Thursday, 27 June 2013

Cancer and I.

They said many things.
I was eight when they first told me about it.
I wasn't going to be the victim, but someone who meant everything was.
I didn't know that it was going to change everything for me.

Not that it was contagious, but it's repercussions were going to be.
It's like the family was going down, like some doom was emerging.
I remember I didn't understand what it was, or how it ever entered the family.
None of us could do anything about it.
We were now to face it.

It had the ugliest face to itself.
Walking across the Hospitals, it started with a rushed crowd, everyone was in an emergency.
There were gowns of the sick, no smiles, green color, white coats, strechers, dropping glucose and blood bottles, unmatched slippers, hushy cries, people siting in silence and a lot of pain.

 I remember, they sat across the table from that lady doctor.
She checked on her, saying it was getting better, while she was all drenched in pain.
Then there were hours of being admitted, with him sleeping on the couch to lay by her.
Millions of wires connected across her body, I could hear her breathing.
She woke up, telling me to ignore everything and look across the window, to the match our country was winning, in the stadium within the glaring heat.

Then there was this operation, lasting 11 hours. We stayed at a relative's place.
My grampa used to tell me, that this is the last thing, it will make her perfectly fine. I stood there, in that house, looking onto the balcony, across to a family in the window. They were eating lunch together. I counted on my fingures the number of days since we four had had our meals together.
For that one minute, my heart just wanted to live with her, without the cancer in picture.

Not that she's cancer free today, but today, Cancer is not in the scene. It still lies in her body, but she has taken control now.

I hope this is it Cancer. I never wish to face you again.

Friday, 21 June 2013

Coloring the self.

For most the world is a rat race. They compete, strive, forgetting that the one's they're standing against are the ones they love the most.
For the rest, the race is about making the self better.
Choices do make a lot of difference.

Sometimes, the trap is between choosing to be selfish or selfless. The first instinct goes with selfless. But, there are 'buts' to it. Always.

Selflessness would mean standing for them. Being just to the others. Keeping them as the first priority.
Selfishness would mean being just to the self. Knowing that, one has to strengthen one's own stand too.

Sometimes, despite making no damage to the others, the choices make us selfish.
But then where is the justice?
The battle is equally balanced on both sides.
Loving them, and loving self are both very important.
But choosing either, turns unjust to the other. And No, sometimes, there's no middle way out.

The battle is between choosing which shades to color oneself with. When both the shades are lovable, important.

Tuesday, 4 June 2013

Misty dreams!

As I sat beside the window, glaring at the pouring rain the wind intensified. Those old white window panes were drenched in rain and the water had seeped into the wooden frames. The glasses were pale from wrath of time. The creepers were stranded with drops of water flowing down them, and it seemed like they were rather joyous. Last night before I crawled onto the bed, this strange perception engulfed me, like something wasnt right. I dont remember what I saw across the door. But there was someone.
Was it real, as in was he standing right in front of me or was he on the phone is blurred out in my head, I remember having heard his voice.
The same old 'you let me go' chatter. I remember him shouting at me. A part of me know he was never coming back. A part kept telling me that things could always change. The beauty sure lies in wanting things one can't have.
The battle was over. Things didnt change. He left. Yet again.
But this time I didn't want him back. I wanted to stay in the middle of everything. Yet again.