Moving along with the mellow crowd

The bags are packed and holdall is cramped

Do not be mindful to the path with neon signs

Take a step back and a deep breath

Air seem to be filled with CO2, asphyxiating despair

Run! Run! Off to a place in the meadow

Take it all in, the hills, the valley, the river

Put your running shoes next to you

And dip your naked feet into the cool water

Let morning rays graze your cheek, colourful hue

In this escapade you have to be different, someone new

Don’t make assumptions of right or wrong

You don’t have that privilege, just be strong

Travel on the path you choose not the one chosen for you




For summer morning it was a shade too dark, a hint too cooler, and felt a bit too moist. And for pleasant day it was abundantly too tumultuous and restless for her. The tremble has worsened in past few ticks of clock.  She took another sip of water to calm her beating heart which like a frightened horse was hammering its hooves on the surface of her ribs. It was her first drive after “not so” fatal accident and she by no means was ready to put the gear forward to Drive.

The thoughts were plaguing her, inflating the memory in mind whereas her nerves have shrunk into cowering mess. She could have died that day; she could have been responsible for someone’s death. No one understood what paradox she was living. They told her it was alright, the damage on car was not much and fixable.  It made her feel more embarrassed putting little more weight to the guilt.

What they didn’t understand the heat radiating then from dent on the car was still radiating from within her. She can feel the gnawing churning squishing her heart still bruised with the nightmare that it actually in all physical possibility hurts. The numb feeling she experienced while on the road turning her brain into wool. One rash and stupid decision which could have cost someone alot more then she could have imagined and that too because of her. She never wanted to be a criminal. Hell! She has never even broken the most simpleton of rule.

Taking a deep breath she tried to calm her nerves and turned the ignition on. “Just like riding a bike” she murmured to herself. And she was off to her destination passing people and other motors on road trying to be aware of her every decision. Not wanting to act like a fearful nincompoop who is out driven by a scooter carrying an overweight milkman with oversized Milk-Tins she tries maintaining a steady pace with the traffic. So many times had she ran her fingers through her hair she looked familiar to female Einstein. Her entire journey she was alone as she was back then nothing had changed other than her more disarrayed nerves.

They were waiting for her when she parked. She put on a smile and acted like nothing was amiss. Except she felt like she lost a bit more of sanity, it was as if there was a mark like a tattoo on her mind “She could have been a killer” heavy to her senses, eating her. All she wanted was to go back to her sanctuary, hold herself tightly and cry. Yet she put on a brave face and smiled completely baffled that she doesn’t have courage to speak to her friends. But courage is only good when you know it’s for the right thing and she knew though they may care for her they won’t care for what she was feeling. Everyone would end up feeling awkward but none will understand she could have killed somebody.

Once inside brightly lit building, they made beeline for their favourite spot. She felt fidgety ready to leave at any moment. For her both the food and conversation was sour. She couldn’t concentrate and after an hour made a really bad excuse and left. It was apparent they must be wandering what’s wrong with her but she hoped they will conclude it to one of her mood swings. After all she had had lot of mood swings and never a good explanation.

When she reached home, she saw his teeth clenching on magazine and lugging a bag while trying to close his apartment door. She said polite hi to which he grunted. Any other time she would have been amused but today things were different. He raised his eyebrows when he saw car keys dangling from her hands. He took out the magazine from between his teeth and smiled. “Went out, eh?”he asked while trying to balance the giant bag on his shoulder. I nodded my eyes going blurry. I could have killed somebody.

“Hey.. What’s wrong?” He looked concerned and somehow it made me feel guilty. Too close was he for me that i couldn’t think straight. Just a few more moments…I reminded myself and I’ll be alone in my room, my sanctuary again.

“I’m proud of you. You have been strong.” Out of nowhere he said hitting a nerve. What could I say to that?

“It is expected.” I replied feeling a sting in heart which made the heart heavy and my whole body felt numb. Suddenly I was too tired or weary.

“Yes” looking curiously at me “but it takes lot of courage to face your demons.”

Something in me cracked at that statement. The words seem farce to me even though I know him to be the most honest person. It felt like a dam broke and like a river my emotions flowed through my words.

“I’m not strong enough. I’m not like you, or not like any other. I’m weak at heart. I bleed everyday just thinking what could have been, I had to act strong like the others. I see people going to work, interacting with other, laughing at jokes. Especially you…you go out determined and clear for what you want. I envy others. I envy you. I wish to face the world head on, to be stronger than I ever can be but I’m afraid I’m weak to even open my eyes to the rambles of world.” I didn’t know if it was just that one fateful accident that brought back memory of every failure I had or disappointment I faced but i really wished to be brave. He just kept looking at me dumfound after my outburst.

I sighed still trying to explain. T’he words were tumbling even I didn’t know what I was trying to say.

“Everyone has a wish, it’s in our system. My wish is not for pretty dress, high heels, Mr. Charming, or plaintive success. My wish is for courage, so for once I can say to life “Checkmate.”” If only… I clenched my eyes shut as i felt his arms around me trying to comfort me. I cried alot holding onto his shoulders feeling like a fool.

If God could fight my battle!

Times and times again, I’ve imagined myself standing stranded in some kind of loop, holding pina colada, drinking in the sight like a lost puppy with owl eyes.

In this scenario, I’m always left feeling  a sense of elation as I sit back sated in peace and relax but reality is not so picture perfect I’m afraid.  The reality is an ongoing soap opera and I’m stuck in middle of everything. At the time of extreme difficulties and problems I’ve found myself enter my special “special place” from where I feel nothing but extreme calm.  It’s like I’m sitting there watching everything crumbling and still a smile is annoyingly plastered on my face.  It’s not that I follow teaching of great Lamas or read a book of self help gurus and suddenly started practicing zen. No! I’m as always pessimistic over thinker who loves to over rationalize. To believe in conspiracies is my tendency and to doubt everything a rare specialty. The elation and smile I’m speaking of is much more like a buzzing in my brain, a silence before my storm hits. On this time I turn into dreamer where either I’m character in Harry potter land or I picture God fighting my battles.

The God has created an entire kingdom of his from his knowledge, wisdom and bear hands as suggested in Rigveda and many other books. If my God is so capable in creating such a wholesome Brahmaan (Universe). I wish…I so wish with all honesty and self- centered mindedness that he fight my battles sometimes. Sometimes I feel so tired and so worn out, and I whine like crazy. So if God is creator and master of the whole universe I pray to him for every wish in the hopes of it coming true. Why isn’t it that he can fight my menial battles? It can prove to be a great opportunity for him to understand how disturbing these problems can be to a pest like me. But then I wonder doesn’t God and universe already play vital role in fighting my battle being Krishna to my Arjun taking wisdom from teaching life taught me. The wisdom which if I observe I’m living in every day.

He has created every piece of me, shall he not already care. Shall he not be already involved? I guess he is but a mere mortal I wish for something far-fetched. I wish to acquire his charm, her coyness, little child’s innocence and that old soul with ultimate confidence and wisecracks. And I will keeping on wishing…God, sometimes I just wish on my bad days when everything is misty there is a ray of light that clears my day. And with all honesty and bluntness I sometimes I wonder if only someone could just fight my battle and more than one time I wished it was you. I know it isn’t rational and I know I have grown stronger but if only God could fight my battle.