March 2010
Dear MA,
How are you doing?
It is such a simple question: with a similarly knotty answer. Yet, it is thrown at me with such ease.
As if I am expected to be always all right. May be I should be well. May be I am anticipated to be miserable (in hell down under)?
As if they really do care. My pessimist persona says that they do not: I answer back with a non-committal shrug! My optimistic comrade says they do: I smile my brightest, my happiest. Actually MA I am so unwell!
Listen to me please!
Listen to me please!
MA! I did try in the not-so-distant past! Yes! It was disappointingly disastrous but was it my fault entirely? Did you not support me when I took my decisions? Did I not choose an option in life which you wholeheartedly recommended? I know at the end of the day who are you take blame for my errors.
MA! I do try in my prospective present! I bite my lips and hike against the bitter wind; against the needling rain; against the razor-sharp rays of sun; against the jabs of perfect strangers. I know what sacrifices MA you are making to make 'it' possible for me.
MA! I will try my level best in my unsighted future! I do not know what it holds for me.
MA! It is so tough! Yes I know it had been tougher previously and I had been going tougher.
MA! I will try my level best in my unsighted future! I do not know what it holds for me.
MA! It is so tough! Yes I know it had been tougher previously and I had been going tougher.
MA! I am such an infantile moron! I can account for like around 99% of melodrama of the world.
I break down and cry, face tearing into silent screams of anguish, even after a lively day with new-found friends.
I become numb with pain even after such mentally-stimulating sessions where I was bursting with my long-lost enthusiasm. What if I turn into another disappointment! Again!
I burst into tears, fear clinging to my whole being. Even after spending the day with such wonderful and thoughtful people like R and B, who embraced me with wide open arms, giving all their own for a Satan like myself.
MA! What should I do?
The other day, as I was waiting at the main gate, I saw a father and a toddler walking past me. At first, the boy and the man was walking alongside. Then with the fervor of a puppy, the toddler ran helter-skelter ahead. The father followed slowly, his maturity pronounced in his gait. He knew what he would find soon and took it up in his arms: his son...it was so cute…lying spread-eagled on the green, tired from his miscalculated run. They rested for a while and he let go of the kid: he started running again to and fro. But this time around, the child did not run out of kilter. He waddled his adorable fat butt to short expanses, each time returning back to the father: either to hug the man’s legs or for a reassuring hug.
MA: it reminded me of you.
I have gone awry so many times. But each time I went off beam, you fetched me, ignoring the strong bars of prison I was incarcerated in; fighting tooth and nails. And then protectively clung to me stronger than earlier.
Each time, you brought me to my senses; forcing me to stand up to my responsibilities…not just to you, but also, MA, to my own self.
Each time you literally gave me the wings to fly to a brighter horizon, a greener pasture, to a better nature.
Each time MA, you sang to me stronger songs of hope, to dance to. Wrote me poems, each more brilliant than the last one, to rhyme my life to. Painted me canvasses, each more glorious than before.
Each time you sat on the jai-namaz, exhausted your self to sickness with long hours, reciting stronger prayers solely for me.
Each time: impervious to the simple scarcities, demeaning externalities and mortifying vagaries of life.
Now, MA, I know you have tried the hardest, your best, and your fullest. But, I am ending up in such a loss. I know it is so selfish. It is not that I want an answer, MA…it is just so unexplainably excruciating.
I guess I am just cursed…
Love,
A
P.S.: I hope you are doing great along with FA and SA.