All is well

What is it with people?

Why do they always need assurance?

What is it with humans?

Why do they always need an extra dose of indulgence?

“Yes. It’s alright.”

“Go ahead and fight.”

“I am here waiting for you.”

“Hey guess what – I love you”.

“Are you there working or browsing”?

“Will you actually come to the party with me this evening?”

“Why are you here, why did you leave your previous job?”

“ Are you sure when you go out, you do not hobnob?”

“Will you be there when I am home?”

“Make me dinner; wash my wounds when all is gone?”

Questions that need an answer, doesn’t matter if it’s true or false.

Looks like we all are babies. Sucker for assurance and love.

Sounds like we all need to be told often “all is well”.

Stop, we are here. Please don’t jump into that pit less well.

Babies, that’s what we are.

When do we grow up?

Just before we stop breathing?

Well, I’ve seen some who need to be held even before they bid their final goodbye.

We never grow up, do we?

At home, in work, in our daily self-important lives.

Breath

Every time I breathe I feel I am alive,

Every time I take that next breath,

I feel I’ve survived.

This is not easy.

Not half as cinematic as it looks onscreen.

Ask me.

Till yesterday, I thought it was silly to talk about this exercise of passing air through my nostrils,

Then it happened.

I found a heavy knot inside my chest, tucked deep inside me, an immobile object. 

I was infuriated in the beginning.

How dare it force me to use my mouth to pass air?

How dare my nostrils refuse to co-operate?

This is my body, I pass orders.

Not some stupid, rebellious, powerful, invisible knot seated comfortably above my stomach.

I fought the whole night.

Sacrificing sleep, sweet sleep.

Refused to take external ammunition to fight it.

Three nights spent in an agonizing fight.

Need external ammunition now.

All this for a breath!

All this to breathe in and out without a fight,

With the enemy in my chest.

Test

Wrote a test

Wanted to get somewhere with that.

Wrote and rewrote,

Checked and checked,

Till it looked like satisfaction on paper.

Got attached to it.

Started feeling for the words in red and black in a descent font size!

Looked plump and happy to me, my contented words.

Now, I wanted to get somewhere,

Somewhere special,

Where I would sit on an ornamental chair with a smart and nifty world on the table!

Manufacture words. Look for those missing commas which make your heart beat pause,

For those periods which end it all.

For those dashes and colons which tell it the right way, ha ha, this et al.

People in blue buttoned shirts and smart pants, all singing my praise,

Hail this genius! Hail this controller of words!

Ha! Me and my kingdom of words!

No no!  It was not a dream, I must say.

It was there, ready to be grabbed.

I was almost there with my pen and word-control eyes.

My eyes, you ask? Yes they house million dreams! Should you make fun?

Yes. I thought of a fabulous life. A duplex house, fancy red car, patch of cultivated green, a smiling family,

A green, wild, open field lying there all for me to begin my oft forgotten plan,

To run for exercise.

Now it is not there. All gone and it only took a minute.

How? Do you have to salt and pepper my burn?

They wrote a mail.

Which made me feel like a criminal on the dock, left gaping at the judge who had just uttered, “court adjourned”.

“There were many eyes or too many word manufacturers”, they wrote. Oh! those words. Hammering into my ears.

They came in like Santa Clauses, my dream breakers, riding on commas and periods.

Their  gifts? Ha ha! Shining white papers  with slim and in-shape words.

They came in all at the right time. When I was creating a perfect dream and a near perfect shining white paper.

 I saw something, then. Something bleak and muted.

 I saw me, sitting  outside a Christmas house, on a moonlit night . All frigid and lost.

Without food, warm clothing or shelter.

There was no gift waiting for me under that hopefilled tree.

There was no ornamental table, no fancy car.

Only a shoulder strong enough to support my leaning side.

Calm, cool words from some distant , familiar voice.

Like cool, sparkling white, foamy water, falling on a dark, steady rock.

Made me soothe, heal, and recreate my dreams.

And left me thinking, no no, never, ever say hide.