Six Yards of Warmth

Diwali was around the corner, and it was getting chillier with every passing day. As the festive season approached, excitement rose, and finally we can spend all the money buying things we saved up for. It's sad how we enjoy this luxury while many are denied the common needs. Like every year, I would be donating some unused clothes and blankets to my maid and some to the NGO. That's my bit I give back to society every year. It doesn't cost me anything but those hand-me-down clothes may save someone's dignity. So, it was a fine Sunday evening, I took out the table and placed it against the closet. I held on to the handle of the closet and climbed up the table. My knees were starting to be a problem, ugh I must be getting old I thought to myself. I reached for the big suitcase above the closet and dragged it towards me until I lost control and it fell on the ground with a thud. I got down with great effort, oh my knees. I remembered​ how my mother always complained about her knee problem. She would often say how she hated her declining years. Somewhere I feel thankful that she left us sooner, I know how it must sound. I can bear the pain and the loss myself, but I could not watch her spirit die with every chemotherapy. I was devastated when she was diagnosed with cancer, but a little relieved when she was finally relieved from all the pain.

Pushing aside all my thoughts, I opened the suitcase. There were so many sarees, dresses, scarves, and some blankets. I dusted these and started taking out one by one. To my surprise, the clothes were a lot more in number than what I remembered putting in the suitcase, some of them I had not even seen in years. They were familiar, yet they seemed so distant with some faint memories attached to each one of them. While I had already half emptied the suitcase, I saw a saffron-colored silk saree. Not sure what kind of silk, but silk for sure. It was my mom's favorite kind of silk and mine too. Oh, how I fought with her for this saree, to which she triumphantly said, “You never wear sarees, why do you want to waste it over one-day worth an outfit?”. Without waiting for it she snatched it from me, I liked fighting with her over sarees. It always gave me a sense that at least she is fighting for herself sometimes. Well, that saree was really beautiful and worth the fight. I never really got over it, so when I was getting married I asked her for it and she willingly gave it. She was teary-eyed when I asked for it, I hoped and assumed tears were not for this saree, of course not.

Remembering all this and she was all too overwhelmed. I got up and dusted that saree. I stood in front of the mirror and put this saree over my shoulder, the mere feel of it, each and every piece of fabric had her presence in it. The warmth that I would feel when I hugged her while I sobbed. The times I had jumped over all of my successes, SSC results, graduation, or my first job, she was the first person I would hug. Other than these big occasions in life affection for each other in the family was never so obvious.

Whilst I was just looking myself up in the mirror with this saree around my shoulders, I remembered​ the little me, doing the same. Mom would watch me with admiration and would then drape me in that saree. Occasionally scolding me for not standing still, oh that was so much fun. Today, I stand still mom, I drape those six yards all by myself. Before I knew it, I had perfectly draped the saree and taken out the bindi stuck to the mirror, and put it on. Well, not bad, I thought. Tears started mounting in my eyes, it was getting heavier on my throat, too difficult to gulp it down. I felt a warm embrace of my mom while the saree touched my skin. I missed her so much, I composed myself and took out the jewelry box. Happiness filled me up like never before. I wore the bangles she gifted me on my first anniversary. I put on some cologne and I heard the loud honks of our car horns. I quickly arranged all the clothes lying around, put off the main switch, picked up the gift lying on the coffee table, got house keys, and left.

I sat in the car, and he helped me fasten the seat belt. I looked at him, took his hand, placed it near his face, and tapped on his watch. He says,” Oh, I know I know! But I am just 15 mins late… traffic you know!”. I roll my eyes playfully and correct him “30 mins” and gestured to him to get going. He looks at me again, “Hey you look beautiful.. and this saree?”. I nod and say, “It was my mom's. Gorgeous, isn't it?”.  

Bygones

For the people I once called my friends

Nothing lasts forever, so why the loose ends

For some goodbyes are better left unsaid

They be the reason for a hope that stays

For every person who once had my back

Through thick and thin, looked out for me

Whom do we fool here, did we really care?

Reckon, we did not, no one ever truly does

It hurts my heart, not because I regret

For we have lessons solely for us to grow

Moving on, I'll grow, knowing you were one

And collapsed lay pillars that held us high

As we part our ways, truth today I shall say

While you talk, look into the person's eyes

They say a lot more than words ever will

“I'm fine”, is a simple mask to hide behind

While their eyes scream a different story

Pay attention, be caring enough, read them

Killing an inch a time, to hold back the tears

If only you could hold their hand in yours

Couldn't you breathe soothing words a few

Needed not much to ease that heartache

Cries unheard by deafening self-occupancy

Friendly bygones wouldn't save us anyway

Lost Sunshine

A butterfly, beautiful graceful butterfly

Dreamed of touching and exploring the sky

She looked at the miraculous world alone

Where she saw her sun, pure as gold he shone

Her tiny wings carried her closer, to her sunshine

Her breaths were long as she left behind her old life all fine

Missed the sweetest flowers, which now seemed foul

For now, she lived to be with her so longed soul

She desired selfishly to go a little closer to the sun

She cut off everyone, to be with her only desired one

Pulled the strings of compassion and felt the warmth of his embrace

Found herself falling from the sky, on the ground down on her face

Her wings turned to ashes, as she drew her final breaths

Dying every second, lying in the darkness she sobbed

She painfully looked at the sky for a glimpse of her sun

Beauty and grace were gone, all that was left was ashes

She knew it was about time, reliving the moments few

She breathed her final words, more to herself than to anyone

"I loved thee from the depth of my heart, I'll forget you never

As I close my eyes forever, wish I could see you one more time."

That afternoon

I was on the veranda sipping my coffee with an old radio playing nice songs. It was a lovely afternoon, here in Mumbai. How often do we get a peaceful lone time? That year somewhere between May and June it had started raining. It was drizzling that day, an excuse to skip work for some quality time for myself. As I sipped all that was left in my cup, a familiar song played on the radio. I have heard this song a lot of times. It used to be my favorite song when I was in younger. My then best friend and I would sing it whenever we were too distracted to focus on the boring chapters in school. I must admit I wasn't a bright student, average as they I say it.

This song, I started humming along as it played on the radio. And out of nowhere, my heart was full of emotions which I barely knew to exist. I saw myself in a dark crowded place with colorful lights, loud music, some popular​ songs playing, people around me dancing as I stood at the entrance talking to my best friend. I didn't take very long to recognize this place. It was the rain-dance disco at this popular water park. I must have been in grade 7, when I went there, annual picnic. I and my best friend were discussing something and suddenly this song played in the disco. My best friend and I exchanged excited looks, screamed our lungs out and ran to the dance floor. We danced to that one like maniacs and continued to do so, a little longer even after the song was no longer playing. We got bored of the other songs and soon left the floor. That was indeed a memorable day, my childhood sweetheart had given me a ring which didn't fit me very well. He had taken me into the deeper part of the wave pool and proposed me there. I had been so happy about it all. Thought about him all the way home that day. As I vaguely remember it, I thought of him when I saw the stars and the moon following our bus.

It's funny how a song can trigger those untouched portions of our long-lost memories. Sweet. Life isn't so simple now. It's not bad but it's not simple and easy. It becomes difficult to keep up with the pace at which life moves. People are often left behind and forgotten. Do we ever truly forget someone? You may not remember a face or a name for a long time but you never really forget someone entirely, do you? Having such moments fill me up and make me nostalgic. The take to places I haven't been to in a while. Just as I was caught up with these thoughts and emotions, there was a gentle tap on my shoulder. I looked at him and smiled, requested for a refill. I turned the radio off stared into nothingness for quite some time. I gathered myself up and walked into the kitchen. While he was still brewing my requested coffee, I hugged the man and told him “I have a funny thing to tell you. Did I ever mention the proposal of my sweetheart from school?”.