All Souls

They are never truly gone

Always there with us 

In our hearts and in our minds

Always with us

We take them with us wherever we may go

And though they maybe gone 

Their presence we feel

In our daily lives

In the things we do

In things that reminds us of them

They continue to live in our memory of them

Never haunting us 

But always with us

Guiding our way, lighting our path

And one day they get to visit us

On trails of petals of orange 

To ofrendas put up in their honour 

They traverse over the bridge

That connects our world with theirs

Following the trails of petals of orange

To be with us 

To spend time with us 

To do the things they loved to do

Eat the food they love 

And drink the drinks they have drunk

And we in turn pray for them 

Especially the ones struggling to find peace

That through our payers, words, and deeds

That they find their way home 

Dear Dada

Dear Dada,

There’s so much I would like to say to you but I really don’t know how. Starting with how I love you, how much I miss you, not just today, but every moment of my life, things I should have said when you were here with me.

I know I didn’t quite turn out the way you wanted me to be but I know I am who I ought to be. But I know I wouldn’t be me if you didn’t cared and nurtured, clothed and educated me and gave me a roof over my head. Because of you I stand on my own two feet. I know I am not the perfect son.

I know there have been a number of time I have failed to see your reason, failed to understand your point of view, as much I am sure you did mine. But our misunderstanding could be easily cleared and relationships be mended, if we only didn’t let our egos get in the way. There was no reason to try and prove who was right and show the other they were wrong than simply seeing from each other’s point of view.

I know you slogged hard for me, worked night and day for the family, but I missed having you with me, having you near like the father’s of my friend, but that distance made me look forward to spending time with you, and now that you are not with me I miss you even more. There so much I would love to say to you, so much time I would love to spend with you. But now that time has gone and I will never get it back, all I can do is live with the memory of every little moment we spent.

I really wish you were here to see me and I hope you would be proud of me, cause you helped make me, you helped shape me and mould me. I really would like to explain what it’s like to be me, who i choose to be, for the way I am. 

Dada there’s so much I would like to say to you but I know that the only way that I know I can do that is to close my eyes and imagine you there, cause that’s the only way I know I can talk to you. In my heart is where you’ll always be, that’s where you’ll always reside, your memories imprinted in my mind like a photograph hanging on the walls of mind. But no matter what, I miss you, I love you, always and forever.

With loads of love,

Your imperfect son.

Remembrance

As I walk through the place 

Where they rest in peace 

Amongst graves decked in 

Orange, reds and white

With tombstones etched in silver and gold

Bearing names of those long since gone

Of loved ones and dear ones

Family and friends

Father, mother, husband, wife

Daughter, son, everyone in our life

People who we have laid to rest

The ones who we will never see again

A thought that feels like 

A dagger to the heart

That brings you sorrow and pain

How you wish you could tell them

How much you miss them

How much they mean to you

Things you failed to tell them

When they were with you 

But now it’s too late

Cause you’ll never get the chance

To tell them how you felt

So as you lay that marigold

Decorating their resting place

You try in vain to fight that lump

That rises in your throat

Refusing to go down

Cause big boys do cry

You have not prepared 

Any grand ofrendas 

But hope they follow you home

On the petals of the marigolds

On the day where they can

Roam among the living

But you don’t to mourn their passing

They wouldn’t have wanted it that way

You wouldn’t want to

remember them that way

Cause their life needs to be celebrated 

Their memories need to be honoured 

Cause they’ll always remain with you 

Etched on the walls of your mind

A memory to last forever 

To a melody played on the strings of our souls

And a rhythm that rattled us down to the bone

Our love for each other will live on forever

In every beat of my proud corazón

The man with the silver hair and fluorescent tee and golden words

As I made my way up that final slope I finally see that finish line. With all the energy left in me I try to give that one final push to the finish line, having a mental battle with myself, who seemed to have resorted to curses in addition to all the protest, muttering, wondering what exactly had gotten into me to have undertaken a challenge I don’t think I was capable of completing,  a race route on kacha roads, almost trails at some parts, nut then your other side feeling that the scenic route and the challenge quite made up for it. But going too fast had led to cramping and muscle tightening (the pitfalls of assumed youth). 

Limping, crawling, I finally made it across that finish line and proceeded to the cool down area for some help from the physio. Little did I know that my struggle and perseverance was being watched, was being noticed. As I arrive to the cool down area, I see a physio attending this gentleman with silver hair and a fluorescent tee (or another bright colour, it seems like age is catching up). He gestures to the physio to attend to me for which I am grateful and thank him for the kind gesture. He smiles and speaks in a hoarse voice. I assume that it was a sore throat, little did I know about his battle scars and how he came out a survivor, coming out a victor (after all he was from the Navy and the Navy makes them strong).

We weren’t friends then on FB but I could read his public posts. There was a certain kind of romantism in each every word, a passion, a fire, and at times a bit of melancholy. He was a romantic and found a way to romance and woo Life, and not just his wife. Those were beautiful prose, romantic lines, that drew you in with them.

I remember seeing him on the other side of the road during the VVMM, dancing to the beats of the dhol as it drummers played with gutso, as if bouyed by his enthusiasm. I shouted out hoping i could be heard over the beats of the dhol. He did hear it, as he later did mentioned it along with how the ladies loved his silver hair and showered him with more flowers. He was full of life, full of love.

On the last day of the same year, I decided to join my friends for a run, as it was closer to my workplace and it would be fun to run as a group. That day as I made my way through those inclines and declines, I saw him running steadily on the other side of the road in an attire that was bright and radiant as his personality, with his sipper in hand. We waved out to each other and exchanged warm smiles and continued on our respective runs. That day it seemed that we were destined to meet each other.

The following year we met each other at different races, cheered each other, clicked pics together, congratulated each other. I kept reading his posts, reading every single word, being inspired by it, admiring and respecting him even more. We once again met each other at the race where we first met each other but instead of tightened sore muscles we met with smiles and clicked pics.

Later that year during the inaugural promo run of the IDBI Federal Life Insurance Half Marathon, I asked him if I could have the honour to run with him (taking a page from a running diva). He tried to dissuade me saying that he would just slow me down but since I was having none of it I continued to run with him. It was indeed a pleasure and honour to run those kms with him. The next day I read his post, and what I read moved me, brought a smile, some tears, and made me feel blessed and grateful to know someone as wonderful as him.

The next few months I saw very little of him, both on social media and races. I learned from friends and fellow runners that that what had afflicted him before had returned again. This time around too he was fighting it bravely, not giving up on life, and this reflected in his posts, when he did post. But slowly and steadily the affliction seemed to be getting better of him.

When I finally found the courage to see him I couldn’t recognise the man who lay on that hospital. He nowhere looked like the man I knew and admired and looked up to, the man with the silver hair and fluorescent tee. I felt helplessly not really knowing what to say. I whispered a silent prayer and hoped for what was best for him. I finally got to meet the love of his life, the source of his romantism.

The next day got a message of his passing. Somehow there was a feeling of peace that I got to see him (though this wasn’t, wouldn’t, be the way I would remember him), and now he would be at peace, away from the pains of that which had afflicted him. Though earth may have lost a noble soul, heaven gained a romantic angel, the man with the silver hair and the fluorescent tee with those romantic words. I said a silent prayer thanking the gift that he was to us all.

A Father’s Day Dream

I found myself standing on a familiar terrace, one that I have stood on for over 25 years of my life. I could feel a light breeze on my face as I stood there staring vacantly into space. There was loud music playing, must have been a wedding or a birthday preparation or celebration, like it could only happen in Stone Building.

Suddenly there was a familiar refrain (if I got this part of a song right) that could be heard playing over the speakers. Out of the blue came a voice, in tune with the song “Aey, Kya Bolti Tu”. I kind of knew who that voice belonged to, it was the one that I heard almost most of my life but hadn’t heard it in over a decade, never thought I would ever hear it again. Still I strained to see who it was. A smile bloomed on my face when I located the the origin of the refrain.

As if on cue, there came the response to the refrain “Aey, Kya Mein Bolun”. A familiar voice that I have heard each day of my life, morning, noon and night. I smiled and cheered as the voices of my dad and mum played of each other. I really didn’t know my mum could sing, never heard her sing before.

Later that evening we went to meet him. Seeing us, he hurried towards us, coming to the chains that bordered the area. He hugged his wife and planted a kiss on her forehead and then on either of the cheek. I teasingly suggested that he could do better and if he wanted I could turn my back, with a cheeky smile. He grabbed me and put me in a head hold like he always did.

It was a perfect moment, one that I missed, one that I longed for. I hugged him and buried my head in his shoulder. It was a perfect moment to be captured. I removed my cell trying to capture this moment for all eternity. 

I fiddled through the various modes to find the right mode. Suddenly I heard a faint sound in the background, like something ringing. The sound grew louder, a familiar but annoying sound. That’s when I realised that it was my phone’s alarm and it was time to wake up from the dream.

They say that early morning dreams tend to come true but I know this is one that will not come true. One thing for sure I am not going to shed a tear cause the memories are etched in the heart and there they will always be for eternity, making every day a Father’s Day.

Hello Josephine... how do you do...

The first time that he saw her he knew that she was the one for him, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. To grow old together and ride into the sunset of life. She was the one for him and he had to make her his, in the romantic way, not the stalkerish sort of way. Call it love at first sight, or a surge of hormones to the brain, or whatever you may call it, he was truly in love with her. To him she was just perfect.

She was a little hesitant. Not well educated, not from the same strata of society that he was. She had her physical flaws. All this made her feel that she never could fit in his world. All this made her feel that she was far from perfect for him. So she didn’t feel they would work.

He had seen her while she took care of her sister’s kids who stayed in his building.  He knew she was shy and wouldn’t easily accept his love. But that didn’t dishearten him. At a casual sing-a-long, he took the guitar and gently strummed, singing “Hello Josephine... how do you do...” and that moment she knew what he felt for her was real and she too felt the same way about him.

A few days later they began seeing each other and in just over a year they were married. It may have not been the fairy tale courtship and marriage but for them it was just perfect. They promised to be with each other through sickness and good health, in good times and bad, till death do them apart. He even jokingly coaxed her to finish the sacramental wine so that the next couple wouldn’t have any. The day was a celebration of their love for each other a lifetime commitment to each other. It may not have been a royal wedding, but for them it was way more than that.

Now life is not all a garden of roses, a fairy tale, you also need to wake up from the dream and start living life. He went back to his job abroad and she lived with his family in their one room hall kitchen. He had to work to support his family, to support her and by and by their family grew. 

He tried to give her the life she needed, the life she deserved. And though distance kept them apart for most of the time, it didn’t weaken the love they felt for each other. And with each passing their love grew and as did their family. From just the two of them, they added three more. And though he missed their birth, their christening, their communion, they always longed for their dad. There were three more kids who insisted on sleeping at night with their mumma and dada when all they wanted was some time to themselves.

They tried to make the most of the time they got to spend with each other. With each different country he worked in, the amount of holidays he could take changed, grew lesser. He returned home for lesser amount of time. She on her path got caught up looking after their children, looking after his family. But whenever he was there for a birthday or any function, he took the guitar and gently strummed, “Hello Josephine, how do you do... do you remember me baby... like I remember you...” and she would smile shyly while he sang this to her, her song.

Now this is no fairy tale and life doesn’t always have an happy ending. In the end, death did eventually tore them apart. He passed away, though not alone, but far away from her, by himself, in a strange foreign land. Seeing what remained him her heart broke into million pieces, the bangles that lay on his mortal remains. She knew she would never ever see alive and breathing next to her again, never ever to utter to utter those words, never ever to sing to her. But she knew that she would always treasure his voice, his song, hi breath, deep in her heart. And if she could just close her eyes, she could feel his presence beside her. She knew that this parting was sweet sorrow, till they would meet in another tomorrow.

She continued to live her life bringing up their kids but always with his memory in her heart. He looked down upon her, her guardian angel, proud to see how she was doing. He longed to be with her, by her side, cause all though his heart was filled with happiness, there was a longing that felt, a longing to be with her, his family, to give all the love she deserved, to by her side. He knew that one day they would would unite and then he would say to her...”Hello Josephine... how do you... do you remember me baby... like I remember you...”

Hello.... from the other side

As I made my way home, a cool November evening, all lost in thoughts, I felt a familiar vibration in my left pant pocket. I reached for my pocket to check on my mobile. It was an unknown number calling me. Though the ring was the same as it usually would be, there was a different feeling about it. 

“Hello”, I said, as I have said a thousand times before. “Hi my love”, said the voice on the other side. There was something eerily familiar about it, something that made me stop in my tracks. Could this be, could this really be? But then this was not possible. I longed to hear these words. I last heard them over five months ago and I knew I would never hear it again. But then here I was listening to it, how could this possibly be?

Almost a whisper, I muster the courage to mutter, “who’s this?” Almost hoping that this was a prank call. “Baba it’s me, in fact  it is all of us” said that oh so familiar voice that I yearned to hear. 

I stood there, frozen in my tracks not knowing what to say. Was this really happening? Was this even possible? “My love”, the voice continued, “we have been been watching your, we have tried to call you a thousand times but you seemed lost to us, all wrapped in your own world, all stressed, tensed and pained. We know I. Some way or another we have cause you the pain and stress. We are so sorry my love.” 

“No, no, no” I finally blurted, trying to control my emotions. “I am sorry! I know I did all that I could, but I know I could do more to reduce your pain, something that has always haunted me that I didn’t do enough for you all.”

“Rodu baba,” came another familiar voice, “you did all you could. In fact you did much more, you sacrificed so much for us. We knew this but never truly appreciated what you did for us, the way you deserved. And don’t you worry about us. We are in a better place, free from all the pain and suffering.”

“Son”, came another voice that drove dagger through pain from the pain of separation, “I know we may have not gotten a chance to say goodbye and I never got to tell you how much I love you.” “No I am sorry, “ I said desperately trying to fight back the tears and push that lump back in the throat. “The last time I saw you I was so upset with you, didn’t even want to talk to you, not knowing that would be the last time I would speak to you.” “Son, don’t be sorry! What’s done is done. We can never fore see the future not knowing what will happen next. You are my son and I am proud about the way your are, who are and what you can be. I accept you the way you are, cause the way you are is the way you were meant to be.”

“Baba we know you are lonely and often feel alone. We are aware that you struggle with your feeling and have strayed and are confused and afraid of not knowing what going to happens next. Baba don’t be afraid, embrace life and all it has to offer, don’t hold on yourself back. There’s going to be pain, but you’ve made enough of sacrifice for others to warrant some happiness for yourself. Think about yourself, don’t hide behind a mask, behind a facade of what the world want to see. Be yourself. The world can be a lonely place, but know you are never alone.”

By now is almost I tears, fighting a loosing battle  against tears, “I miss you, I miss your all. Not just today, every single day” almost sobbing. 

“Baba we know that, we can see that and we love you too. But know this, you are never alone, we are always going to be there forever with you. No matter where you go, you will take us with you, cause we will always be alive in your heart. To catch you when you fall, to pick you up when you’re down. We will be there with you in every heartbreaks and sorrows, as well as in every triumphs and happiness.  You’ll never walk alone, you never alone.”

“Baba there’s someone eager to hear you and she jumping all around just to hear your voice.” I can hear that familiar yelp and bark that I so love and miss and I long for.

“Rodu, take care of yourself as much as we know you will take care of your mum and sisters. Tell them too that we love and miss them. Love you a lot my son.” “Love you too!!!” I blurt out. Saying this the line goes dead.

I find myself standing alone in the moonlight trying to make sense of what transpired a few minutes. Did it really happened or was it just an imagination, my inner most desires to hear them once more, to hear the things they had said. I stand there shaken and trembling, tears welling up my eye cause I know now I miss them more.

But I need to heed their advice and live. So I move on and promise that myself to live for most importantly me as I will for others.