On Death and Hope

I shall skip the formalities of apologizing for my lack of posts and vacant promises on how I shall be more judicious with updates.

My father has met his maker.

Yep, the man who was a friend more than a father has finally taken the long rest. I was there by his side when he took those final rasping breaths… Every moment of that day is etched in my memory… and I have tiny panic attacks thinking of that day! But all that said and done, I am glad in a way. You see, when someone is in so much pain that they cry out for death every waking minute, Death comes to them like a blessing from Heaven above. He had severe internal bleeding and a complete loss of appetite… I am just amazed that his final moments were much calmer and painless compared to how he suffered in life.

I grieve every day. And I know that this is one feeling that shall not leave me for as long as I live. Everytime I see or hear someone interacting with their father… every time they talk about how they did this and that with their daddies… I shall smart inside. Because, I’m only human… 

That said, his death has made me a different person. I can now empathize with those who’ve lost a loved one. All those condolence messages that I’d sent before my father’s death seem so hollow and without life compared to the ones I send now. Now, when I say I know how someone feels about the loss, I don’t feel like a hypocrite anymore! And when I tell them that they’ll get over it, I don’t sound like a jerk. Because we do get over death… we do carry on. We do survive.

The grief is always there, it goes from being the numb unfeeling heaviness to a sharp pain in the gut to a remnant feeling that is in the backdrop of all things we do. My father was an amazing human being… a better human than most people I’ve met. And he loved making people laugh. Now everytime I see his photo, I smile… remembering the good times… knowing in my soul that he’s up there next to God, making him laugh!

If anyone who’s reading this has lost a loved one, know this, brethren… Your loss will make you stronger… you will survive! And you will become a beautiful testament to the power of Hope and Love!

Of Death and thoughts thereof

Everybody must either have or must've had a favorite poet of yours. It could be anyone... someone as prolific as Shakespeare or Shelly... or as obscure as Eleanor Ross Taylor or Matsuo Basho.

Well, Today, I'll be reminiscing one of my favorite poems ever.

Strangely, this poem has no name. And that is because the poet chose not to name it. The poet was just as strange as her poems... she lived a recluse for most of her life and almost all her poems were published after she passed away. And somehow, I wonder if all this was known to her. Poets are indeed mystical people. Some hide deep secrets in their verses that their prose writing counterparts can never achieve with simple spoken words.

Getting interested?

Dame Elizabeth Taylor has joined the choir invisible.

I guess this must be late news to many out there. But what the heck! Elizabeth Taylor was one of those special celebrities for whom I had the greatest respect. Irrespective of the fact that her personal life was a roller coaster of sorts, the lady knew how to hold the attention garnered on her and elegantly so. What with those elegant and thick eyebrows that framed one of the most beautiful pair of blue eyes ever, it'll be a wonder if she didn't!

I remember the first time I saw her was on the cover of an archaic video cassette of the movie Cleopatra. I must've been five or six at the time. My uncle had borrowed the cassette from a friend of his and we were all excited. You see, home video at that time was a luxury and very few people actually had a VHS player in their houses. I was mesmerized by the actress who played Cleopatra and for a very long time, when I thought of Elizabeth Taylor, I immediately thought of the scene where Cleopatra is crowned the queen of Egypt and goes out in this grand procession to Rome.

Then, there was "The Taming of the Shrew". She was beyond excellent in that! I remember with much fondness how I gleefully giggled every time she fought with Richard Burton (on screen, ofcourse!) in that movie. She defined Katharina to me when I was only beginning to discover Shakespeare. Ah, such fond memories.

You know, I personally feel one shouldn't mourn someone's passing. Wouldn't it do the deceased much greater honor if we were to reminisce the good times we spent with them. And so, thank you Dame Elizabeth. Thank you for all the good memories you've blessed me with.

Heaven became a tad bit richer and Earth just as much poorer. We've lost a star.

An Ode to Appu

This post is the result of a suggestion from one of my friends who, unable to bear my silly and totally annoying babbling anymore, suggested I write a poem about a good friend... And well... here it goes! :)

"Who'll be your best friend?"
The boy taunted the child.
And her eyes fell onto the floor
And so did her toothy smile.
A sniffle and a silent sigh -
She lifted her head back high!
"I've my Appu!" was her firm reply.

As though to attest her words,
As though to proclaim them true,
He whisked out the open door!
And all her troubles - away, they flew.
She hugged the fawn head
And got a wet lick back instead
And a joyous bark from his mouth, issued.

None did dare openly taunt her now.
Not that she cared what they thought!
She had a true friend for life
And thus all her pain, she forgot.
They'd frolic by the sea...
Not minding jealousy!
An adamant strong bond was wrought.

But things didn't go so well at all
And soon her friend passed through the veil
And alone she smiled as she cried
Knowing he was in a greener dale
"Farewell friend," she sighed at last
"You're the best of memories from my past!"
And so that's how I write this little tale.

I love you, Appu! My friend.... my philosopher... and my love!

As many must've guessed, Appu was my friend... he was not exactly human. But I speak the truth in letting people know he was the only one who stood by me when I was bullied by the neighbourhood kids, when I was alone, when I needed a shoulder to lean on. He was the (only) one who'd seen me cry and he had his own sweet way of letting me know that everything will be alright. I miss him now more than ever. :')
Hope he's finding doggy-heaven comfortable enough!

P.S. I know nobody's going to steal this poem...it not being exactly stunning and all... But well... if you do plan to take it, don't! It's akin to robbing a grave.