PRINCESS

Frozen hands grip my heart
Heavy guilt burns my eyes
I lie down cuddled and shut them tight
Even tears fail in shame of being mine.

A year now has passed
But the memory, the pain...the loss
That moment of pleasure and days of indecision
Is like but yesterday.

I dream of her coming out of me
Kicking....screaming
With bright green eyes, her father's nose,
Brown curly hair, upturned lips....

I watch her grow...
Into a beautiful little PRINCESS
Dancing in her white frock
Like a flickering light, far upon the blue sea.

And there she remains forever
As i stop dreaming
As i stop breathing
Held in that shy smile of a daughter

MY daughter
Who had never been...

Borrowed By The Devil

I lay there, beneath the street light, at the junction of my busy city. I was moving, trying to stand, but wasn’t conscious. My face looked stretched, pale eyes drawn in, heavy lids, lips dry and swollen, shabby clothes, and my hair looked unwashed since my birth.

It was me alright. But I did not feel the pain which looked obvious for such a body, instead I felt shame. I wasn’t in control of my own self I was watching. But how am I watching my own self? No clue. I could feel the breathing, smooth and easy, never like mine. I did not expect seeing myself in such a way. Least, I wanted others to see me this way.

My body stood, staggered and fell flat. I wasn’t beaten, but I was bleeding; and my watching form was weeping. Its heart was heavy with grief, throat filled with boulders of sadness. Hard resolve kept this form standing right there, while others walked past my sprawling body, missing not a chance to express their disapproval.

I wasn’t perfect. No, not half as perfect as I believed myself to be. My friends thought I was weird. I despised them. Teachers advised. I took no heed. Mom cried, dad threatened. But I rejected them all. I was ahead of their time. I was different and I was proud about that. Until now…when I see my shut eyes displaying fake peace; my insanitary body displeasing a diseased dog. I did not believe when they said to me, but when I see now, I realize. I am a GOD-DAMN-ADDICT!!! No matter which term you prefer to use.

Warm tears crept down the jaws of my watching form. I could feel its feelings. So I understood that the form must really be close to me, for it felt a terrible loss at the sight of my body. I, which is the active me, moved towards my body. I stood there for a moment and lowered myself to touch my body’s shoulders. No reply. I lifted its face and it slowly opened its eyes. It blinked furiously. Its vision must be bleary, I thought. I smoothly pushed its hair behind to see his face clearly. The next second, my watching form broke into terrible sobs. It shook with distress. My chest swelled with sorrow. My body has gone through physical pain. Yes, and I’ve borne it to live the next day. But this pain was burning me inside-out from the depths of my heart; and I could not bear this a second more.

But my watching form did. It endured the pain, it controlled its emotions. Its wisdom washed me over with relief, and it spoke “Come, let’s go home.” I knew this voice. But my memory would not travel beyond the illumination of the street light. It failed me.

My body looked at me, my watching form, and pulled back suddenly. It dragged itself far from me. It did not recognize me. It did not recognize its only savior. It refused its salvation. “Oh god” I cried, “How long will I run, far from every good that came my way, seeking a moment’s pleasure in exchange for an eternity of pain which burdens not me alone, as the rightful cause, but even others who hardly shied at being by my side, no matter how wrong I was.”

As I closed my eyes, I left my watching form and was back inside my crumpled body. Back to struggled breathing, back to the pungent stench, back to the crippled conscious. But now I had a clear conscience, and I needed nothing more.

As I looked at the person before me, kneeling, like he was pleading me, I sensed my essence return. No matter what I had said about him, what I had done to him, he was always there, trying to explain me just one thing that took me a lifetime, an ocean of tears and a planet of pain to learn by myself.

I held to my father’s fingers as he helped me return home alas…

Lifeless Life

He had never been here before. The sea ahead went on and on and on….never ending and the sands around was the only other thing left which too had no end. Comforting himself to the warm shore, he started to think. What is this place? How did he come here? Where are the others??? Then slowly but sharply it struck him- HE WAS DEAD……. How? A brutal accident.

Slowly memories flooded his mind and he sunk into them, having nothing else to do. He did not feel the passing of time. There was no dawn, no dusk, no rain, no storm, no hunger, no pain-Just the sea, the sand and him. He accepted the fact of being dead. But what now? Is this all about being dead? What about the Heaven and Hell? Or was he already in one of them? He got no answers.

Time passed on… The sea remained calm, the sand sand and him him. Then one fine day, he heard a voice, “Good Morning”. There was no one around, so he looked to the sky and replied, “So its morning now?”

The voice laughed, “No, not for you”

“I see. You are God?”

“Well…. You may call so, but I am just you”

He did not understand, but thought not to enter into complexity of the matter. So he moved ahead….as always.

“I suppose I am dead. So…..What now? What do I do?

“How old are you?” asked the voice business like.

“35”

“What did you do these 35 years?”

“Well…..many things”

“Namely…?”

“Ah…I studied, I learnt various things, then I worked, earned and…married and when all was going fine, I am dead!”

“Hmm…this was all you’ve been doing for 35 years?”

“You want me to account for every day I lived?”

“No. Didn’t your neighbor do the same? Your father, your grand father, your boss, your servant”

“Well….yes, so?”

“So you are the same as any”

“No, I am quite intelligent than most of them and…. and had worked all my way from scrap. I am the only cause and reason for what I am today.”

“What did you work for?”

“Well….to earn. To live happily”

“What did you earn?”

“money, of course. Not a penny from my father or in-law”

“Money? The piece of paper that you people made?"

“yes…..but...”“you studied till you were 22 and worked till 35, only to acquire that piece of paper?”

“Its not just a piece of paper. Its a medium of acquiring things that you need, that could make your life easy and joyful.”

“So you enjoyed your life?”

“Yes, I certainly did”“What did you enjoy the most?”

“I love writing, reading, traveling……”

“Then I assume you spent most of the time doing these activities?”

“No, my work would not permit that. I wrote when I found time, which wasn’t much. Traveling only on business……but that’s how life is. You can’t have all you love to have.”

“You loved your work?”

“That gave me money….”

“So you had money, but no time to do what you loved to do”

“In a way…..Yes.”

“Then what was the purpose of earning money, which could not give you the love of your life?”

He remained silent….and the voice continued.

“I see that you’ve spent half of your life in studies that had hardly got anything to do with the rest of your life???”

“Because that’s what they taught us in schools…..”

“No. Because that was what YOU chose”

“Had I chosen different field, I would face the same things there. There isn’t much change in any.”

“But what if you had chosen the field you would have loved to be in?”“

Writing……? I would have not earned much”

“Fool. You would have earned the love of your life…and enough of your money to live with.”

“But I was not good enough in writing”

“Were you, when you started to work?”

Silence again….the voice continued.

“Success always follows perfection. But you can never perfect, what you don’t love. Every being is born for a purpose. To find that, you will need and get help, but to follow it is in your own hands.”

“But I am dead”

“Are you……?”

He woke up to find himself again in a new surrounding-this time a Hospital, his wife beside him. The doc said it’s a miracle, an act of God that he survived, but still got his fees paid.

He was in care for a few days. Longer days, they were, when he pondered silently on the same question day and night. But before long, his cell rang, "Morning John…(blah)……… so when do you return?”

He was silent.....

Then replied, “Right away sir. Update me.”
It’s not often that people realize what to do in life…… but when they do realize they, lack the will to follow it. Give life a chance. The world is full of people who had already done things you do now…. Be different. Choose your love and it shall see to your life.