Pushpa

“In the year 1925 in Lahore, India, the joyous Berry family was blessed with a baby girl. They named her Pushpa (meaning flower). The kind of love Professor Aloknath Berry showered on her little princess was out of bounds. He wanted her to read and to blossom into an independent woman. As a little girl, Pushpa would read books to her father and before she could finish one she’d ask for more; “Would you get me a new one tomorrow, baba?” the answer was always a yes.

Being born in a liberal and affluent family she was raised right. Pushpa valued what she was blessed with. Growing up, when her friends were burdened with household work, she went on to pursue a degree in English literature from the Lahore university.

Times were tough, with the rise of the Indian Freedom Movement things were restless and the growing political tension among the leaders tore India apart. Political rivalry budded and before people could realize they had to pick sides. The heavily charged communal atmosphere and the deep distrust between the religious communities took Aloknath Berry away in the bloody violence of 1947. Fear and hate filled the hearts of millions and Berry family was one among them.

Pushpa, a shattered and torn young girl, crossed the border to the refugee camps in Delhi with her mother Janki. Fear and loss concreted in her tender heart. Days felt like years in the unwelcoming and harsh city. She would often wake up in the middle of the night to the screams of her mother. She’d close her eyes and pictures of mobs burning her home down, baba screaming with pain, his coat on fire, asking her to run for her life would come alive. She would reach for the golden watch under her pillow and hold it close to her heart.

“Keep this with you and keep going, just like it does. You know what to do when it stops” baba had said.

“Wind it with love and courage and keep going, tick-tock” she’d whisper to herself each night.

It was the only piece of baba that she was left with. She’d wind the watch and hear it ticking away.

Like that, days ticked away. They moved to Ludhiana where Janki found a job in a local library. Pushpa went ahead and completed her education. Her mother could not stay away from baba for long, her illness took her away quickly. Pushpa met a man at the university, married him. Moved to a small town in Madhya Pradesh and started a beautiful family with him.”

As I put the last full stop above, I look across the room. I see her sitting by the window, sipping tea, reading The Sound of the Wind; that’s Pushpa, my grandmother. Just yesterday she gave me the golden watch, I have it on my arm this moment. She says I am just like her. Young and vibrant.

Tick-tock, I’ll go by the watch grandma. Just like you.

 

*I wrote this story for a project. The characters and events are fictional but inspired by true events*
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Star Ablaze

I veered off the trail. Just yesterday.

I’d been suffering, walking on it.

Following the dim star.

So I woke up and decided not to go after it anymore.

It scares me now, a little.

It’s gone. The star I never loved.

It’s dark and I can see tracks no more.

But I know I’ll keep walking.

There is more to belief than just light.

More to me than following a dying star.

I guess I’ll be my own light.

I’m ablaze within.

Enough to be my own dazzling star.

What Once was- now is not.

Outlined a square on the stone wall each day,

painted a different picture within.

Once a convict, now a painter.

Once a dead wall, now a window to his colorful soul.

 

#MICROFICTION In response to a prompt: #window

Time is all you have…

“There is so much I’ve got to do, there is never enough time”  he said.

“All that we ever have is time”  I said, not really listening.

It’s true all we have is time yet we never have enough of it.

What is life? A string of moments until it’s not.

What is in a moment? What really is time? Just something we have created to measure our span on this planet?

Isn’t it true? Time is all you ever have.

Seconds and minutes ticking away in a small circle. This very moment clubs with so many others and before you even know it’s your entire life. The concept of time has always amazed and scared me at the same time. It feels so strange when you think about it really hard. You are illusioned if you think control exists. There is nothing like control, you can make conscious choices and direction your days. You can choose how to spend the time you have but you can’t regulate how much and how long you would be here. I’ve been clinging to these thoughts for quite some time now. It’s in moments of such musings that I begin to question whether what we know is real? Or are we all equally lost? Believing in what seems the most logical explanation for our being. Most of us do everything possible to avoid the inevitable; the end. But no, that’s not how it works. We rot and we perish. We are mighty beings until we are not. We are alive for death. How contradictory does that sound now?

Life is a contradiction composed of smaller contradictions. We can’t just be one of the two faces of the coin. It has to be both. Complements are the way life works. Everything has to have a complement to it. The rain to the draught. The hero to the villain. Cakes to cookies. Lunch to the dinner. See my point?

One sometimes,

sometimes the other.

Weakness to strength

Smile to tears

You can’t take one. they come in pairs.

 

Is that their trick?

Sometimes you drift into dreams so that you can escape a storm. Feelings, you are not ready to feel. Things, you do not understand.

Other days, you are afraid of slipping into slumber cause it’ll lead you to another day…so quick! It’s going to be the same the next day and the next; for all you know, it might get worse. So you stay sheltered, cozily in the dark. You have done more than enough for a day and it’s too early before you can do it all again.

You sit in the balcony and it’s almost 5am. You see the light, lurking by the corners. And in that very moment, you know with utmost surety that they are wrong about darkness and about light.

They are wrong about so many things. All the time.

You wonder why they want to make you believe it.

Why do they believe in it?

Do they even know what they are talking about?

It’s a matter of perspective, isn’t it?

Sometimes we need the light to shine bright and sparkle up our hopes and dreams, other days we bloom in darkness cozy and safe.

Would we recognize light if we never dwell in darkness?

Is darkness really the kind of ‘dark’ that they have taught us about?

Is light always what they have made us believe that it is?

I don’t know. Maybe nobody knows.

And maybe…that is their trick.

 

Picture Credits: Pinterest

Seven Days B&W Pictures: Day#4

Seven days. Seven black and white photos of your life. No people. No explanation. Challenge someone new each day.

Hello Sascha, you are welcome to try the challenge if you wish!

Something about Self-doubt

I cried for about an hour today. Then I called a friend and talked to her for another hour. Two hours of unrest and kiddish bellowing is what it took, for me to come back to my normal self.

Let me tell you why. It was because another friend (a relatively new person in my life) called me and said a few things implying that I’m indifferent and cold.

I took it in a playful manner until I realized that he really meant what he said. The words were right from his heart.

I told him nothing, apart from this that his perception is flawed (because it’s sketchy in the sense that he does not know me completely). Also, I am unable to understand his random ranter for the very same reason; I do not know him enough.

I said this but I didn’t really believe in it at that point. I asked myself quietly “Am I really a cold person?” and tears followed.

While I was on the phone I realized that this very unrest of mine is a counter to his perception. I am not cold, certainly not indifferent. Else, I would not have been sitting in my balcony, crying on the phone because someone called me a few mean things. My friend on the phone told me the same “You should not let this get to your heart cause you know it’s not true. He might be a good person but he is certainly not in a position from where he sees you as the person you really are.” 

We are all very different people and we should at all times be mindful of the same. Things are not always how they seem and so is the case with people. They are so much more than what we see. Just because someone wasn’t kind to you once, does not mean their heart is devoid of kindness and love. Someone said a few mean words does not lead to the conclusion that they are vile. Hasty conclusions are most often worth trash.

People take time. Friendship takes time. So should you, before you make a judgment.

Whether you like it or not other people will judge you. Mostly as the person, you are not. You might have done the same a lot of times, we are all human.

The point of my childish complaining being – Do not nurture self-doubt in your soul over flawed verdicts on your nature. You are not what other people define you to be. And if people are not patient enough to see you as the person you are really are, let them be. The fault is not yours.

We are all worthy of time and patience. Cut yourself some slack and be kind enough to allow other people the same.

 

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NANOPOBLANO17

Sharing is caring! Check out some of these cool blogs, they are participating in Nano PoBlano17:
David Ellis @ TooFullToWrite Blog
Tooks @ mrtookles (insta-blog)

Kate @ Will Wally Wonder 

Varad @ Loose End of the Red Thread

The Don @ Blended in the Middle Blog 

Palak @ Expressions Blog 

Victoria @ The Loneliness of the Stay-at-Home-Mother Blog 

Namratha @ NamySaysSo Blog 

Ka Malana @ Fiestaestrellas!

Edward @ Edward Fagan Blog

Robert @ Fresh Off the Pad Poetry

Lizzie Ward @ Cats and Chocolate Blog 

Jesska @ Not Throwing Stones

Quixie @ Quixie’s Mind Palace

Heather @ tUrtlettE Blog 

Sarah @ TZBlog

Matt @ The Matticus Kingdom

Cyn @ That Cynking Feeling

 

Seven Days B&W Pictures: DAY#3- Light

Let there be light.

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Seven days. Seven black and white photos of your life. No people. No explanation. Challenge someone new each day.

Hello Biko (Pieced by HB), you are welcome to try the challenge if you wish!

Just another day

Some days are just days… a meaningless ensemble of seconds.

24 hours, that I’m so damn aware of.

I do not wake up with a glimmer of hope in my eyes rather it’s exhaustion and stress. As soon as I wake up, I want to go back to bed. The mere thought of getting through the day drains me. I pull aside the curtains and the light hurts. The buzz of life around makes me mad.

I count each minute and each second with a hope that time will quicken its pace. I focus on my pulse, twitching in my arm and trace the boundary of my fingernail. I’m aware of how frequently I blink and also that there are 18 lights zigzagging down the hallway.  I adjust my hair every two seconds and feel the cold shiver of my hand each time. I feel like I am being watched, I feel like they know!

I drift back from the frame and everything starts speeding. Deafening echoes of laughter and indistinct chatter…form the backdrop. I hear my name echo. I know someone’s calling. I try to gather the shattered pieces of my focus and reach for the glass of water on the desk.

I tell myself – “It’s all fine, you’re doing fine.”

Just one day.

Just another day.

A Comic List

Comics have always been my thing.

There is a plus to illustrations, they simply connect better than words would ever do. Sarah Andersen is one of my favorite illustrators. She is amazing with each and every piece she creates. I was going through my Comics board on Pinterest yesterday and here is a list of 10 comics that describe me the best-

  1. Procrastinate- Procrastinate-Procrastinate! 

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2. Total INFP loner!

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3.  I am extremely SMART

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4.  Forever Indecisive

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5. Strong sense of deadlines

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6. Interesting hobbies

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7. Nope, not at all annoying

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8. Believe me….I don’t know what’s bothering me, like EVER!

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9. Life’s meaningless…till I get my hands on another book

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10. Animals – Yes! People- Nope, not so much

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Image Courtesy: Pinterest