Life - Are we doing it all?

‘bhebe dekhechho ki

Tara rao joto alok borsho durey,

Aro durey,

Tumi r ami jai krome shorey shorey?’

Something within me unleashes all bottled up tears whenever I listen to this band anthem. Takes me to a place, where I see myself gradually moving away from the ones I love. Forever.

No I do not mean death. I mean, I do not mean just, death. Is it just loss of life that takes our loved ones away from us? I suppose not. I will tell you why I feel this way.

Some lessons in life are grueling, but they guide you forever, in whatever you do. Somewhat like learning the alphabet in nursery. Helps you all your life, doesn’t it?

Misfortune states clearly whom you should trust and whom you must discard, for good. This task of straining may subject you to huge pain during the learning process, but once the avoidables are separated, what you feel is nothing less than richer. For now you know who your real treasures are.Yes, misery is a sieve that sifts out the redundant; filters and keeps the important. Period.

People who love me unconditionally, know how I feel about my life at the moment. They understand why I do, what I do and when I do them. That in itself is so relaxing isn’t it? When you can just be yourself and not pretend that you are the happiest on the planet.

The other day I was speaking to my husband’s distant elderly cousin over the phone. We were speaking about his favourite songs, his favourite dishes, my daughter, my responsibilities, my thoughts on our future etc etc. A very general conversation that made us break in tears, often and then, end on a very beautiful note. Before hanging up I remember telling her, ‘If there is even a single person in my life who knows what is tearing me apart, who understands why it is taking me so long to laugh my heart out, or who tries to feel what lies beyond my silences, bearing this cross will be much easier for me’. Not to mention, she is one of them.

I have seen close ones drift away in the last few years. Ones that I considered indispensable and expected will at least give me a quick hug before they move on with their lives. They didn’t. Some probably misplaced my number. A few must have misplaced me. In their choc-a-bloc daily schedules. Yes, it hurts but I do not blame them. Not one bit.

You know why? Cause they have no idea about what it is like. And I can only pray that they never ever experience anything that gives them an idea. Yes, grief purifies you. Washes ill-feeling away. Makes you a better human being. Asks you to analyze before you criticize. And once you gauge the immense possibilities of why some have chosen to move away, and some, never showed up, you simply feel happy for the smiles in their lives. And it ends there. And you, move on. 

As it is, we are not meant to be with each other for eternity. Our times are set and one may have to leave before the other. And then shall begin a new ‘moving away’. Many thousand light-years away. Our roads might never ever meet again. For who knows whether souls living in separate worlds can ever span the light-years between them.

When I learnt that my husband is no more, the thought that struck me was, ‘Okay, so as long as I live this life from this moment, I shall never get to see you again. Living. For now, you are ‘no more’, and people will, henceforth, refer to you as a soul. Without a human frame. Moving light-years away from the earth. From us’.

THIS life is all we have to stay close to the one we love. Do something nice, say something beautiful, write a poem, spread a smile, share a joke, gift a rose, or simply watch a show together. The idea is just to share what you still have and many don’t – life.

For once we get the ‘no more’ tag stuck on our pulse, there is no coming back. To give that one tight hug, or making that one call to say how much you always cared.

No bridging the light-years between a ‘no more’ and a ‘still there’.

Bridge it. While you're 'still there'. 

God

‘Khelaghar …

baadhtey legechhi

amaar moner bhitorey’

My relation with God is the same as the one I share with my beloved daughter. One moment I am yelling at her for not listening to me, the next, I am totally running after her for a hug. In fact, there have been times, when God and I were living in separation, or so I believed. I often, lost faith in his love for me, completely, and he, true to his nature, chose silence and time to guide me back to him.

Yes, we all share some kind of a relation with our God. I do not believe that God must have a name, an image, a gender, or a religion, but if any of these helps you to stay grounded to faith, there could be nothing more real. Nothing more honest. Nothing more triumphant.

God to me is just that - God. He is the light at the end of the tunnel, the subtle relief when all the tears are spent. A super handy first-aid that’s ready to cure, even before the wound sets in. Yes he does that for all of us, only that we, lesser mortals ‘get it’ much later.  

I have, and I am sure even you must have wondered, if God exists, then why this continual bloodshed, terror, disease, slaughter, rape – why so much pain all around us and even within us? Why is the world shedding tears everyday at incidents and accidents beyond its control? Why do people on a pilgrimage lose their lives? If god is all-loving and all-forgiving, would he subject man to so much?

Questions, that leave us lost, skeptical, spiritually hollow, and above all, shattered. I am not here to propagate the existence of God, just intend to share what I feel, after having faced quite a lot, as you may already know.

In the last two years, I prayed every second for my husband’s life. Every second. I have done things I never really believed would, or could, actually accentuate the quality of my prayers, but nevertheless, did them with all my heart. For him.

For, at that time, all that mattered to me was his life, his relief from physical and emotional suffering. I prayed, begged, cried, howled before my God. In fact, I remember one particular evening, a few days before he left. I was standing at this temple, and pleading God to help him, save him. Remember telling him, ‘You are the only one who can make miracles happen. So please make it happen. Just once.’

I was so sure things will work. Medicines will work. Prayers will work. Faith will work. They didn’t. He left. In a week.

And I was left, godless. Or was I? Well...

I have not yet reached that level of spiritual maturity where I can perfectly justify his leaving. But yes, there is more to what happens, than meets the eye. The mortal eye. The other day I was reading a beautiful article on why we die, when we die? Why do small children lose their lives? Why are children born with terminal illnesses? If they had to leave so early, why did God bring them here? And the answer is, not just life, even death has a purpose. A grander one maybe. One for the ones left behind. One that we will learn as time passes. Or maybe we won’t. But that is irrelevant in the larger, galactic scheme of things. 

Yes, a grander purpose. If we are born as humans, who can think, work, dream, plan, sleep, and then, wake up and face the sunshine, there is a purpose. It can’t all be futile and meaningless. The only difficult part to accept is that, one day, this journey, which we assume is forever, will end. The itinerary is set and has preordained time-limits for each one of us. And once our time is up, we have to say bye. And begin a new journey. I wish to believe.

Not all questions have straight answers. And there are answers that give birth to some more, tougher questions. I, personally feel, he was here to share some dreams with me, some that we fulfilled together, and some more that he left me with, to fulfill on his behalf. And one of them is, to add a drop of life, to each moment. So that, when my time is up and I am all set to leave, I am left with no regrets of not having drunk ‘life to the lees’.

God exists for me. He is the force, the energy, the will, that takes me forward, step by step. He resides in me. He waters the roots of my soul. Helps me soak in the sun, the rain, and all the good things I need, to grow. 

If you are still reading this post, and at any point, have you felt a lump in your throat, or nodded in agreement to my questions on whether he is around, or simply wished you could just give me a hug for still hanging in there, and fighting, be rest assured, God exists. In you.

For me.

Finding my soul

'Amar bhitoro baahire

Ontore ontore

Achho tumi hridoy jure'

My sister has been persuading me to take up blog writing seriously. She feels all that I do must find a place in my writing, for she has immense faith in my sensitivity and power to express. So here I am, writing my first blog after ages.

Ever since childhood, I have always been an introvert. Always loved to dwell on dreams, and ensured I keep them to myself. But then, you change as life changes and now when I look at myself, I feel there is so much you learn when you express your thoughts with others. The canvas I paint becomes all the more colourful when people respond to it. And that inspires me to step out of the ‘introvert’ shell and pen blogs that speak of life, death, and all that lies between the two.

Honestly, my life right now is very very colourful. In the sense that I meet new challenges every day, meet faces I have known for ages, yet they look differently coloured now, meet myriad colors of my self every second. Yes, colours that define so much in an instant.

A few weeks back, after anti-depressants failed to soothe my strained nerves anymore, my doctor suggested meditation as the only path that could fetch me the much-needed tranquility. Without a single negative side-effect.

Lying wide awake all night for months, I spoke to God often, pleading him for an answer, an acceptable answer. And waited. I have always heard people say, God has a plan, and we dare not doubt what He wills. So be it. I waited. Every second of the day, the believer in me waited for His messenger to knock, and deliver.

And the answer comes, not one fine day. But gradually, as you learn to struggle and swim against a tide called misery. The answer comes. As you crib about all that is going wrong, but suddenly realize that in spite of all the setbacks and trials, you are still sailing strong and none could have been better at this, than you. The answer comes. When you look at the mirror and see that dark circles have not yet over shadowed that determined, tough jaw line. The answer comes. In installments, in moments. Like sporadic rain.

I have never been typically religious, but have always believed in the spirit, something that transcends the body. Something, elusive may be, but definitely, not illusive. And my confusions with my life, finally, helped me tread within. Ever wondered why we hear of spending some solitary time with our 'selves' so often these days? It is important. Very important. Because, we are all so lost.

Peace eludes us. Yes. For we are so busy attending and catering to what lies outside us. We give in, to mediocrity, to the mundane, to all the stimulants that are manipulatively placed to take us farther from that one being who loves us. Takes us miles away from the unleashed spring of love that God has embedded within each one of us.

In the last few months, God has granted me the luxury of devoting myself, to my Self. And thus, began the journey. Of knowing the one I loved but never cared to express it to. I realized how beautiful the soul that wears my body, looks. Unscathed, calm, pristine, full of life. I wondered, why on earth should she inhabit such a battered and devastated garment like me? 

But then again, the answer comes.

She is here to lift me from this dungeon. All these years, she has waited for me, patiently, to look for her, through the boggling mazes of agony and meandering, narrow crevices of experience, and eventually, find her. For unless I reached her, how would I find my answers?

Yes, I have found my soul. Touched her, hugged her, shed my tears and fears with her. She has hand-holded me this far. And has promised to guide me as I walk the miles that lie ahead.

She alone, is my saviour. My soul. The only anti-depressant that can lull me to sleep. In peace. Without side effects.

Cancerless, and free

the last two years of my life have been so different and all-absorbing, that i do not really seem to remember the years prior to them. today, all the cells in my body are soaked in the shock of the time that followed may 2011. yes, i am traumatized, shaken,and my soul, (i believe i have one) confused beyond measure.

there are times when i make efforts to think of my life until two years, by looking at pictures, reflecting on some of the special moments in my life, my first job, my wedding, my months of expecting motherhood, guria's coming, the days that followed, her first birthday etc etc etc, but nothing seems strong enough to take me away from the horrific last two years. these events are all as real, but then, they do not help. period.

taking your husband to the hospital, for a bone marrow test, only to know he has the worst form of leukemia, with a life expectancy of one and a half years, is not easy. yes, more so, when you have this little girl at home waiting for her papa to take her for a long drive in the evening.

and then, starts the fight. the fight to defeat what fate has ordained. all doing their best, the doctors, the nurses, the wife, the daughter, and all who only wished to see him, living. the man was wrestling each day with chemos, throat infections, blurred vision, slurred speech, respiratory distress, swollen limbs, bleeding gums, nausea, not to mention the mental and emotional landslide. he had to fight. he was not given options to choose from. he sure wasn't that lucky.

finally, one thunderous night, as his body was still deciding on whether to relent and release him from the ventilators, successive seizures, hemorrhages, i stepped in to the ICU and stood next to him. placing a palm on his gradually drifting chest, all i could ask for was forgiveness, as i could do nothing to bring him back. To me, to his child. he opened his eyes once. looked at me and then closed them. Never to open them again.

in a few hours, his body surrendered and he lay there, sleeping, not to be disturbed by nurses or doctors with needles and pills, ever again. Yes, no seizures, no pain, no life-saving drugs, no blood, no platelets.

Lifeless, he is no longer begging before God to save him. For now, he is free. Free to fly out of the claustrophobic ICU and visit the places he had always dreamt of, free to cuddle his daughter as she sleeps, free to sit on his favourite couch and watch amitabh bachchan smashing the baddies. free to be.

As for me, I am sure he is doing all of these. Only wish I could see him once. Cancerless, and free.

Questions and Answers

A few years back, I visited a popular temple of Ma Kali in north Kolkata. Thousands of devotees come here to get a glimpse of the Mother almost everyday,and this day was no different.

While strolling around the huge portico of the structure just opposite to the main temple, a rather ordinary looking man caught my eye. He was not very old, maybe in his early forties, tall, strong and most evidently, shattered. He was looking straight at Ma Kali’s idol, rather straight into her eyes. Not once did he blink, as tears trailed down his flustered face and prompted a thousand more to come running down in battered rage.

Still like a mountain, he stood there, unmoved by the jostling crowd, the loud chanting of the mantras, and the expected cacophony at such rush hours.

He was there for justice, it seemed. As if he believed, that standing face to face with the goddess will compel her to answer all his questions. There was something so magnetic about his tears, his agony, his silent hysteria … I stood there watching him from a distance. I knew he wouldn’t leave till he got his answers,and I wondered who will give him the answers he is looking for? The clay figurine of the Goddess?

His blood red eyes confirmed that every vein in his heart is wounded and his soul, brutally shaken. I dared not ask him, but wondered what sort of grief or loss,can actually make you desperate and illogical enough to stand before a statuette begging for answers?

His tears were hypnotic. His gaze, powerful and he didn’t move an inch.

As I left the temple, he was still there, standing, alone, all his emotions translated bluntly through those volatile oceans of helplessness.

Today,I so wish to meet the stranger once. 

Just want to ask him, ‘Have you found your answers, dear? As for me, I am yet to frame the questions properly.'