Love awaits those who look for it :)

Hard to believe that a morning that started with a splitting headache and depression a couple of days back, ended into an evening filled with fun, love and laughter with some old friends as well as a new friend. Often we start the day not really aware that it will not go according to our to-do list because every second of every hour will be spent doing what God has planned for us. But then it's true for our entire lives. We plan and design and believe that this is the right path for us and it will keep our lives uncomplicated and simpler and hopefully happier. Well guess what? We don't know! We don't know if the simpler and easier thing that we are going for is the right thing for us or not. It may be, if God intends it to be , or may not be...
I have seen so many times, people who claim to be logical and practical; people who believe that love is not the most important thing in life, and that they should forgo love because 'real life' demands that; crave for love once it's taken away from them. We take love for granted not realizing how beautiful life can be with it, how easy it can make things for us because people are willing to do so much for the ones they love.
I am not one of those. I believe that it's the most beautiful thing in this world. I believe that there is nothing I can't do if I'm surrounded by people who love me; family, friends and that one special person in my life. Just when you think that it's the end of the road, you are shown a new path. Like that day, when I woke up feeling miserable and forced myself to go to a friend's house because he was leaving for Russia that night and a couple of us were hanging out together to see him off. It turned out to be one of the most enjoyable and fun-filled evenings, full of laughter and music and we all stayed there till after midnight. It also showed me how amazing it is to be with someone who loves you for who you are and what a difference it makes to be with like-minded people.

Introducing Pata ...

So you all thought we were a family of four, right? Wrong!!! Introducing Pata...

(Check out Raamiz's penguin collection. Pata is the big, black one)

Pata joined our family last June and immediately took over. Teddy Twinkle had to take a back seat and was not too pleased with the way things were shaping up. All of a sudden everything was about Pata. He was studying with Raamiz, going to Pata school (a school for penguins), joining us for lunch and dinner and getting his own blanket at bedtime.
Every time somebody objected to a stuffed penguin tagging along everywhere, Raamiz would throw a hissy fit, insisting that Pata was a real person. Eventually we all accepted him as a very important member of the family. Till one day...

Now it was my turn to throw a hysterical fit. Not in a million years was I going to buy a thousand rupee birthday present for a stuffed toy!!! I had already bought munchkins for his fake birthday so I turned a deaf ear to all that Raamiz had to say. Goes without saying that I have not been forgiven for my unimaginable sin to this day but I can bear it. I'm a strong woman. I can live with it but I'm not willing to part with my one thousand rupees for a silly penguin that's not even real!

The shrivelled corpse...

The night was still and warm. The trees were casting shadows on the long, winding road. I walked silently towards the dim lights that I could see in the far distance. It was getting darker, with the moon now almost disappearing behind the thick, smoky clouds. At a distance I could see a log. I couldn't really tell what it was. I had to get closer to it to have a proper look but my feet were already aching. I don't know how long I had been walking for. Had it been an hour, a few hours, a day? I had no idea! I felt as if I had spent a lifetime walking. I had to force myself to walk further. I had to! I had to see where the light was coming from. I had nowhere else to go. I took a few more steps till I reached the log. It wasn't a log! It was a shrivelled human body. Just then the moon resurfaced from behind the floating clouds. I stifled my scream. It was my corpse! How could it be? How could I be alive, walking towards the light, yet be lying on the cold, concrete road; helpless, dead! I looked at my cold, lifeless eyes. They had lost all traces of colour and life yet they seemed to be waiting...waiting for something, someone. I had to get away from the corpse. I started moving faster towards the light. I wanted to get as far away from that body as possible. Everything about that night screamed 'DEATH'! I was now almost running to escape it. The shadows became darker. They seemed to have covered the sky now. The moon continued playing hide and seek. The horrifying silence of the night was now engulfing my soul and the shadows were surrounding me from all four sides. I could no longer see ahead. I tried to run faster but the dark, smoky shadows whirled around me, enfolding me completely, pushing me back towards the shrunken, withered corpse. I tried flailing my arms, tried to wrench out of the deathly grip but to no avail. I was now very close to the corpse; so close that I could smell the rotten flesh. I tried one last time to break loose but it was too late. We were now one, the corpse and I...

Death of a princess

It was the early eighties. I remember every morning I would wake up and go straight to Papa. Sometimes he'd be awake but more often than not he'd be asleep. I still liked to have a look at him before I left for school. On weekends, I'd go and sit in his lap in the morning and continued to do so till I turned 12. I was his princess :) That's what he told me every single day. He would look at me with such tenderness and love that I totally believed him. I believed I was a princess, pampered and cared for; and I believed that I was born only to be loved or so I thought. I entered my teens with beautiful memories... Papa coming home in the evening, expecting me to be the first one to greet him, trying to keep me out of trouble if my mom was mad at me, talking to me for hours as one would talk to adults...sigh...Another couple of years and he and I started sharing similar interests; our love for books. Minutes would become hours and we would continue discussing our favourite poets and authors and books; oblivious to what was happening around us. Ammi would constantly tell us 'khana thanda ho raha hai' but we would be lost in our own world. Often he'd come to me and say ' koi farmaish karo'. I don't remember asking for anything much to his disappointment. I had what I needed. I needed love! I was one of those stupid people who thrive on love. That's all I ever wanted, all I ever needed, and I got plenty of that from Papa. He would dote on me. He used to say 'I often ask your mother what was there to live for when we didn't have these two' (me and my brother).
I entered a new phase of my life, leaving my parents behind collecting new memories on the way. Life went on with the usual ups and downs but I did get to experience what my parents did with me and Arsalan. I had a beautiful princess of my own and a cute little angel followed soon after her. I now knew what my father felt for me when he called me his little princess. I knew why his eyes lit up every time he saw me. I understood why he loved and pampered me so much.
Unfortunately I lost him to the evil hands of death ten years ago on May 9. A part of me died with him that night. Tonight, I crave love, if not from him then from the other man whom I love dearly. I only really loved two men in my life; my father and the love of my life. One might not be with me but I'm sure he's watching over me from the heavens; the other, I'm unable to tell how much I need him to listen to me tonight but I'm unable to reach out. I was always like this, I will always be like this...I'll always have this insatiable desire to be loved. Both men in my life loved me with a tenderness that would make my heart melt but at the same time it instilled a fear in me; the fear of losing them.
When a father loves his little girl, he makes her believe she's a princess; when a man loves a woman, he makes her feel like a queen. But when they are no longer a part of her life, she dies. The princess I once was, died ten years back with Papa; the queen in me died today, pining for love. Tonight I buried their silent, withered bodies...

Ghalib...

I sit here, staring at nothing, listening to Jagjit sing Ghalib; 'Hazaron khwahishen aisi kay har khwahish pe dum nikley'. Nostalgia... I travel back in time...Papa and I staying up till four in the morning with 'Nuskha-e-Hamidia' of Diwan e Ghalib, reading, reciting our favourite verses, enjoying the magical words. How long ago WAS it? A good seventeen eighteen years ago I think. Things were different, I was different. So much I didn't know, so much I hadn't experienced. Such vitality, hope and eagerness. Ghalib had a completely different effect on me at that time. Tonight, as I sit here listening to 'Hazaron khwahishen aisi' repeatedly, it puts me in a melancholic mood; or was I already in that mood and opted for this particular ghazal to suit it? I don't know. I don't remember anymore. I just want to stay lost in the captivating verses. Sometimes you want to re-live your past, re-live your fantasies, cling onto even the tiniest shred of memories. It doesn't always give you peace; sometimes it just brings a bitter sweet feeling. But I don't really know what I feel anymore. Is it serenity or pain? Is my heart aching or is there just numbness? I don't know. I can't tell the difference anymore.
Yesterday I met the most persistent person at a friend's house who insisted I should sing. A couple of us were hanging out together to see off a friend who was leaving for Moscow. I tried getting out of it, I hadn't sung for years. I didn't remember anything, any songs anymore. Ghalib came to my rescue. I sang 'dil hi tou hai na sung-o- khisht'. It was as if nothing existed except for the mesmerising words. I couldn't see any faces. I don't know how to end this post. I still havn't recovered. Am I rediscovering Ghalib? Is that why his diwan has been travelling with me from room to room lately? Or do I just need his pensive words? Strange that I believe I can relate to what he felt while writing, just a little bit, or am I wrong? I don't seem to have an answer to anything tonight...

Hear'em, feel'em...

Two of my current favs. Every time I hear them, something happens to my heart. So today this is all I feel and all I want to say...