Choose To Look Up- Above Expectations and Beyond Horizons

 

“To truly laugh, you must be able to take your pain, and 

play with it.” 

― Charlie Chaplin

You must believe the aforesaid words especially when a genius comic artist such as Charlie Chaplin says them. To break away from the monotony of our lives, humour becomes our ‘friend in need’ and if you notice closely, we laugh at things we relate to─ boy falling off a ladder, someone getting wet just because he was standing under someone’s balcony, how a man gets slapped for his marriage proposal.. We enjoy these little bouts of humour we may have left unnoticed or these scenes that may have been tucked into some corner of our brain while we were busy “living”.

It takes quite a lot of introspection to really make sense of Mr.Chaplin’s words. But come to think of it, we actually go through a process of experiencing grief and loss to then moving on to ridicule it. Maybe it is the christening of the step to finally move on to another set of grief and glories.

I am perhaps going through a terrible phase of my life with the sudden demise of my mother in Jan this year. And even in this entire paraphernalia, I saw myself ridiculing my grief, my stunned silence. I joked at being like a “stone-hearted daughter who shed no tear” or how we went for a vacation and returned never to be the same “we” again!
To be honest, it is relieving to choose to laugh at your pain than to writhe along. Agonizing through it will always seem much easier, what I saw and continue to see hundreds of visitors, relatives, well-wishers do. How the process of “mourning” is so crucial to settling them back to their normal lives from the very next day. I know I won’t be this easily out of the shock but then I refuse to bow before it, allowing the monster to swallow me from my head first.

Sometimes I end up offending people when I tell them that they were lucky not to be around when mum passed away. I try telling them kindly, how it was irrelevant, whoever was present in those 5-10minutes of suffocation and struggle she went through. But they don’t understand. They seem to have no idea how it is to light your mother’s pyre, to touch her cold, lifeless, decomposing body. To know that this one moment will be your last when you get to touch her. Hugging her felt terrible, for the warmth was gone!

And the most difficult part?

To hold on to your twelve-year old sister but allowing her to see her dead mother. This would be her last memory of her.

I can go on talking about those four days of our “family trip” and how she was perfectly fine until those last 10minutes of her life but then who’d understand?
I choose to instead show people her pictures, how I managed to click her smiling.. I remind people of the pranks she’d play or the jokes she’d crack. Her favourite books, serials, lipsticks and perfumes.

I do sneak into her almirah sometimes. It smells of her. The other day I saw an teaser of this upcoming Bengali show where a guy from the army expressed how he’d miss his Ma’s smell the most and would go sleep in her lap the first thing after returning home. I feel like a dog, sniffing around the house, tracing her through her leftovers.

It is a joke me and my sister share. We pretend she’s gone to Kolkata like she had in September. We keep listening to her Whatsapp audio messages I’d taught her to record.

It is during such times that you feel like closing in. Restricting your life to those you cannot live without. I did that. But I didn’t stop there. I made sure I let go of the pretentious people I once addressed as “friends” and I observed people. Strangers, especially those dealing with the loss of loved ones. It somehow gave me strength and I heavily relied on Gandhiji’s treatise of when your loss seems to grave, try looking at someone who is ‘poorer than you’.

One such example would be this extraordinary woman:

Imagine the kind of determination it takes to come out of a loss and then dare to dream again, to live fully; to trust people and to believe in the goodness of Nature and God.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do 

that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” 

― Martin Luther King Jr

I also know of this young fellow of my age who was suffering from Cancer, such that his limbs had started to melt with all the medications he was going through. I remember my mother staying in his hospital room for hours, meditating for him. She’d stay hungry and thirsty for hours and not blink an eye. And when he’d fall really ill, she’d have tears in her eyes and say, “I wish I could make him alright. He is so young and he deserves to live.”

Today, as miraculously as is my agnostic belief in an Almighty, that Guy is Cancer-free. He is resuming his studies and coming back to normalcy!
How does a logical person explain this? The truth is, there are no answers. And when we do not find answers, we have two paths; one, to either let go of everything and just mourn and die. And the other would be to laugh at these perplexing circumstances we are brought into every now and then!

I’m pretty sure everyone is aware of the recent controversy of BBC interviewing of the rapists of Jyoti Singh who is popularly addressed to as “Nirbhaya”. The Indian Government has banned the documentary. I thought initially that it was a good move to stop the maligning of my nation.

However, I watched the documentary and was stunned. I cried.

And, mind you, I did not cry at my mother’s funeral.

But I cried when I heard what the rapist had to say about the incident. And more disgustingly, the defence lawyers called women to be “flowers” that can be either trampled if kept in the street or revered if kept in a temple! We’re gems even precious than diamonds that need to be protected by men. And for crying out loud, all that Jyoti did was watch a movie(evening show!) with a male friend!

How can one stop mocking such people outright! 

While such documentaries bring out the stinging realities of our society and thus have been shunned down, we have people like Laxmi who did not give up even after the horrific acid attack on her. She has started her own NGO and runs various campaigns regarding crime against women through it.

Losing hope will always be an option, like the albatross around our neck. Opt to take problems in life, face on. Halt and spend some time with your grief and hope will bicker in.

You’ll Never Find A Rainbow If You Are Looking Down

― Charlie Chaplin

When we talk of inspiration we gaze towards the horizon but then horizon is just another imaginary line. Look around, for we find stories of courage, determination, hope and experiences of life that mold us into better human beings. The next step of getting inspired is to inspire others. This my friend, is the circle of life.

I wish to thank Housing for a prompt named “Looking Up” which made me realise how often I’ve looked down at my feet, sore and withered in the biting cold. But what if, I choose today to gaze at the sky, smile at the sun and let the world know,

I AM.

If you liked reading my post or you didn't..if you have two words of advice to give or take, do let me know so in the comments below!

If Tomorrow Never Comes..

This is to pay homage to the victims of the blast on the 7th of September, 2011
at the Delhi High Court, where 11 died and 30 were injured.
May you Rest in Peace.

It is utterly disturbing to be a silent witness to such events in a place that boasts to be the National Capital. And that too, at the entrance gate of the Delhi High Court! Feels like a Tight slap by these terrorists on the entire system and like a tragic comedy upon us, citizens who pay taxes..who pay these corrupt officials their salaries and then at the end of it all, we are the ones who Die while these people get all the security and aid!

However,

The loss cannot be overlooked. It is deeply painful- and all we can do is Pray. For the bereaved family. I here, write about this young girl, who takes everything in her life for granted..Until one Wednesday...






Just another morning brunch was laid,
and another round of miffs had begun,
I was in a mood to give it back,
So I sat down with a sulking face waiting for it to come.

Soon he shot out, Mishti, we need to talk.
and I knew he meant about last night.
I was ready with my arrogant reply,
It is none of your business, Dad.

He was stunned, I knew the look
I had managed to hurt him, the guilt rose.
He cleared his untouched plate, went towards the door
I wanted to apologise, but my pride was too coarse.

Before he left, he looked at me with a sad smile
Have a good day, Mish.., Be good my princess
Haughtily, I ignored his words, as I applied some gloss
I should also rush, I have a bus to catch!

I bunked my college, went for a movie,
laughing along I walked towards India Gate
A big group had crowded up around the High court
we all wondered, as we went towards another road.

Hey wait, did I see my Dad's scooter parked?
No, it couldn't be him, he had nothing to do at the Court!
I told myself to calm down, maybe it was the morning scene
that made me think about him too much.

I decided on my way back, I shall apologise
To hurt him, was never my intent
But I managed to do it, every single time.
I would be his little princess, his pride.

Instead of the usual fiasco at my den,
I was greeted by my wailing mother
who grabbed me tight and kept on crying,
I was too stunned to react, for a while.

What's wrong Mom, why are you crying?
I looked around, I searched for dad
But couldn't find him around.
"He isn't back yet, what if he was there in the Court."

I could not reply to my mother
I tried his number, thrice.
Failed attempts and anxiety took us over,
What happened to dad? What if..

The blast reports shook the entire city
News channels flashing the terror aloud.
10 dead, 30 injured, the numbers may rise
the words echoed around.

I bent on my knees, I'd seen his scooter
What if it was him, what if..
I had to tell him, I am sorry and hug him tight
I wanted to be his princess, and promise him,
perhaps, a thousand more lies.
But I had to have him around, to fight to cry
To be the person I am, I needed him too bad.
I cannot lose him, not now, not ever.

The door opened, and I screamed out loud,
Daddy, you're okay! Oh! Daddy, I sobbed in pain.
He took me into his arms, and cradled me like a child
I am fine my princess, I am fine.

What took you so long daddy? Were you there at the Court?
Yes, he said, I was, trying to help the victims and the old.
He was passing by, when he saw the chaos
and he got down to help, what a gentleman my daddy was!

I felt so proud of him, that stance
and apologised to him at once.
I hugged him tight, and tears flowed by,
as I thought of them who had lost their daddies tonight.

What would the wives do, who'd lost their love
the mothers who were awaiting for their sons and daughters
who'd never come back to hug them tight
and tell them how much they loved, how much they cared.

I learnt a lesson, well tonight
Happiness comes from our own,
we should preserve them, hold them tight
For what if Tomorrow never comes..