For when you think I’m too old
To love and to have and to hold
Your Dorian laughs in his frame
As cracks appear across his face
For when you tell me I should cook
And not be reading so many books
Your kitchen sink mocks you
When everyday your dinner gets brutally bruised
For when you chide me for being too loud
And ask me to hold my tongue in a crowd
You know not how your friends oblige
By laughing when you really make them cry
For when you wonder if I’d be a good trophy
Me, with my innate lack of propriety
Your workplace thanks heavens
When you step away from matters of importance
For when you check if I’m “suitable”
If I’m a good enough “marriage material”
Alas! You are not able to see
You are not good enough for me!
I was born as an afterthought
A shadow of her truth
I was never surprised
That I wasn’t their God’s perfect muse
I was a plan B
A wilful addition
Aren’t we all?
We ,the secondary volitions…
I often wonder
Would I have been different
If she’d have stepped in after me
Like her, would I have been as benevolent
In sharing their love
Like a share of the pie
Would I have done the same?
If she teared up would I have cried?
Would I have felt then
What I feel now
Would I have thought myself
A useless tug along tow?
But it hits me
Uselessness is a disease
It has nothing to do with her
My mind goes where it pleases
And it pleases to think me
I’m masochistic that way
Without her as my blissfully ignorant glee
Sigh. Smile. Reminisce.
The thought awakens real slow
In this empty world
I’d rather be her shadow
Than go it alone
Or grant her my own
For souls lost
And tombs in gold were cast
Like flickers of a lamp
The tiny hearts they beat
Fading slowly I wonder
Is their pain the same as the one she feels
When did innocence die
Was it the cold November day
Or has it been dying
Since He left us to wander astray
Wondering where the brother went
Sighing about how without a fight
One loses a best friend
How do we walk on
Paths laid out by those who rest
How do we smile
Across shrouds of souls thus blessed?
This little angel
In my minds unnerved eye
She cries today
As the processions pass her by
How many more sons
How many brothers
Must walk this cursed path
And then in a breathy sigh
She walks back through the rusted doors
Wondering does he play here still?
Are those his footsteps on the floor??
I haven’t been here for a while. And well it has almost been as if I were cheating on someone. Like this book that stares you through from the corner of the eye and then jeers away the moment you turn around. So here’s starting with an apology to the mirror, I have been living far away from you for a lack of emotion.
But for the first time in many years, I do not have a feeling of extreme. No joy, no real sorrow. I am just trudging along an existence. I have made new friends, rejoined the old and through it all one thing remains – my renewed faith in life. Oh, Great! Now I sound like I have come right out of an Elizabeth Gilbert book. But this is not a claim to being a romantic (I saw that in my mirror a long time ago)
This is just a diary entry that everyone should write once in a while to remind themselves of the beautiful people around them. A few days ago this cousin of mine left her humble origins at my dad’s village in Kerala behind to do her masters at one of most prestigious arts college in Chennai. Her neighborhood at the village wasn’t exactly the most conducive environment for studying; in fact the biggest ambition in the family was perhaps to go work in Palakkad (the nearest town). For girls, in particular, the ambition starts and ends at a marriage.
The education system in Kerala doesn’t really help the undergraduates if they want to leave the state. My cousin’s biggest fear is not being able to understand her class as even though she studied in an English medium Arts college in Trissur, the classes were mostly in Malayalam.
But despite of all of this, she is here. She is scared, is tentative about the course but nonetheless she is here. I feel proud, scared and this incessant need to constantly call her up to check on her and I wonder did my elder sister ever feel that anxious for me? Perhaps she did and never showed it or perhaps even better she had such belief in me that she knew I’d do well wherever I’d go.
Sisterhood is difficult, because you aren’t allowed to be as clingy as say a mother to her child and yet you can’t help but worry about the little girl or boy who walked in your shadows all your life and then one day decided to step up to the sun. The feeling was till now unknown to me for I was the little girl in the picture. But the past few days have been pretty different.
I often wonder had I been in my cousin’s place would I have had the drive to be anywhere close to where she is. To be driven when the whole world around you is asking (sometimes begging!) you to succeed is easy. But to look for greatness when you are really surrounded by none is the biggest challenge. This one is a tribute to my little warrior! Hope she prevails the big bad city!