She sat up staright, took his hand in hers and grasped them tight. She looked straight in his eyes and asked him with a hopeful tone, “Will you take me back? Will you remind me who I was? Will you help me find the pieces of myself? Will you help me remember? Everything we did and how we laughed…”
Her voice trailed away, wondering if he could understand the urgency in her voice. The unbearable loss of control over her memories. The slow decay of her essence. The first signs of Alzheimer’s beginning to show.
He pulled her close, and wrapped his arms around her tightly. And he began, “Remember that day we went to the beach, and you insisted on…”
“He can fix anything”, she thought with a smile as she closed her eyes and listened to her stories with him. His voice bringing out the faint memories. “Maybe, he can bring me back too.”
He was her relaxant to her anxiety.
He helped her breathe.
The setting was perfect. The sun had just set. There was a hint of rainy clouds coupled with a light breeze. The sky was the shade of dark navy blue slowly darkening to black.
I was nearing my block, that’s when I saw them. A couple. They must have been in their late 70s. The first thing that I noticed was the way they held each others hands. She had a firm grip, maybe helping him balance. Maybe holding herself steady. Or maybe, just holding because she wanted to. He had his walking stick in his other hand. They walked slowly, one small step at a time. In perfect sync.
I couldn’t help but smile.
Even for a cynic, with all the distrust in the world, looking at them couldn’t help but for that moment believe that things could be as real as that couple who had grown old together and still seemed to be very much in love.
Carefully picked some silver threads and made an embroidery of the picture in my head. Imagination ran wild with limitless possibilities, where I saw a picture of you and me: our hands entwined and watching the sunset.
Then I took a pen, and captured my daydreams. Building them slowly, till there was a story. And this is how my dreams were painted out in the world, holding my hands and smiling at the world.
Some dreams took birth and was nearing reality. Some dream made me fall hopelessly in love.
Some dreams were shared announced to the world. Some dreams were shy wishing it will come true whenever a shooting star zoomed by.
Dreams. Pushes the best out of me. Challenges till I conquer the dream. Makes me smile and my cheeks don’t even hurt.
And that is how, just like that I fell in love.
This is one of those times when I want something, I have to have it. And the want becomes so aggressive that it borders to a nagging obsession. There is no rhyme or reason to why I want it. There is only one thing – I want it and it has to be mine.
An irritating trait.
So irritating that it goes beyond the “rational” logic of “What is yours will be yours”. That rational sounds more of a consolation. I do not want to wait for it to happen. I am not that bold either. But all I simply know is I want it and make it mine.
Patience is a virtue they say. But when running out of time, what is patience? “It will eventually come to you if it has to be yours”, they say. An extension to that “rational” consolation. And I continue to grow more impatient by the end of the day.
There will be a false pretense and it all ends with a lie – it is not so significant. I do not know why is this that I want that I’ll wait, figure things out more, analyze more, ignore my emotions and see where it goes. It’s just an emotion after all.
I am pretty
Oh so pretty
And witty and smart
You said I’m pretty
Oh so pretty
You found me pretty
I got your attention
Should I feel nice?
(Read: See my face in your book.)
That beautiful moment when I’m pushed to live my dreams, chase what I want, because that world is where they feel I perfectly belong. And with that they probably feel the mistake they did is rectified. With that, they feel they are living their dreams through my eyes.
Teenage love. Probably nothing will be as pure as that. It now comes with baggage and conditions and a list to avoid the mistake that was made when I was a teenager. Irony.
Then again, there is a good chance that I am wrong. 🙂
I miss how simpler I was back then.
I have changed beyond recognition too.
Talking about love, there are so many beautiful, intriguing humans. I am finding it difficult to imagine being bonded to one and one alone.
It’s sad how we replace one from other so frequently though.
It’s sad how we think we are replaced.
When home, I will raise a toast for Poda Land with a shot of gin. And some more.
For she gave me my beloved independence. For she taught me to be responsible.
For she is making me feel grown up, now that I pay my own bills.
I once used to speak in pig language to irritate some.
Now I call my BIL a green angry bird pig.
I own two green angry bird ke pigs too.
Oink oink 😀
It is great to be in love again. I can sleep comfortably in your arms, listening to your stories at night.
It is great to know what I love to do. I enjoy every second with it, doing it, passionately.
It is brilliant how “loving” things gives some meaning to my actions.
Other than cynicism. Blunt sarcasm. It does.
Random thought again:
Does explaining another human of my actions, my words, my raw emotions, deprive those humans from thinking at all?
Does explaining everything and anything to someone, deprive them from thinking?
Why don’t they think?
I wonder, what runs in people’s mind when they don’t think about things that should matter.
I wonder, how does an empty silent mind would feel like.
I wonder, how people enjoy ignorance most of the time.
I wonder, how do people not enjoy discovering life. Anything about it.
What are you thinking?
I, of New York. 🙂
What is real, seemed unreal. Probably, I couldn’t grasp the moment that was then. Everything simply passed by my eyes and I questioned the moment, “Is this really it? Am I here now, breathing in this moment?”
And the mind wandered…
There is always a void within. I thought, I found one of the missing pieces. I tried putting it in a place and I was disappointed. Then I heard: disappointment is better than having nothing. At least I won’t be left standing wondering “what could have been?” before deserting a feeling. At times, keeping the image of a person as a memory is lot better than discovering what the person is and immortalizing the harsh reality.
And now, I know, there’s a long long way to go.
He was a beautiful human being, who didn’t know what’s going around him.
“So that we can learn how to pick ourselves again.”
Next time when he offers you a hand when he sees you are tripping millions of times, just take his hand instead of refusing him because of your pride. And that too more than thrice.
Because at times, some emotions are way more important than your pride.
This one probably got the wrong sign because of my pride.
Time to pick myself up again. 🙂
My lesson: I wouldn’t know what is what until I give it at least one chance.
Reasoning: That happens when I’m no more biased.
Reality: Or sometimes that happens when I want to be “miserable”. That is, I am no more biased because I want to give it a chance.