A Ghost

She was genuine and honest, he said
He was polite and gentleman like, she said
Yet, he never used words to end it
There were no signs she could read anyway
He has become a ghost
She was left nursing an abandoned heart

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Intensive Care Unit

White lab coat hung loosely over her navy blue scrubs. That was her superhero suit hidden behind her civil wear.

It was after midnight and she was needed. The stethoscope hung around her neck as she ran to tend to her patient. Her white coat almost fluttered like a cape behind her.

“What is sleep?” She wondered as she tried resusitated a failing man’s heart at the wee hours of the morning. But his sickness over came him and the man in black took him away, without a second glance at the woman sitting in white with her hands on his heart.

She quickly got up. Accepted. Took the next steps and tended to the next patient in need.

Time passed by. She didn’t realise. And just like that, it was the end of her shift. It was time to take off her white coat, get back in her civil wear.

Breathe. She could finally breathe.

She fought against death. She saw death. Every day. Yet, she walked back home. Pulled her 3 year old in her arms and celebrated life.

Such is the circle of life.

Anxiety


The wait. The horrible, horrible wait…
An unanswered call
The “ignored” texts
The uncertainties
The dreadful Mondays
The unasked questions
The ambiguous answers
The unmatched actions
Words, they are just words you say…
The forgotten callbacks
The unfollowed plans
Those unsaid words
Misheard thoughts
Life. The unberableness of life.
Forehead breaks into sweat
The untamed heartbeat
The unruly mind
Panic induced adrenaline rush!
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe
Remember to breathe.
She holds her hand
The touch. That comforting touch.
Heart bursts. Quivering lips.
“Don’t cry”, she says
Stillness and her breath
Some more deep breaths
And just like that, anxiety fades

The Right Focus

It was a messy day because of a messy project at work. The work came back home with me, with its fingers intertwined in mine. It demanded my attention. It was clingy. It refused to let me leave it alone for more than 5 mins. An ideal messy day that not even a workoholic would like.

So, that evening I sat down with it right in front of me. When this little being of mine came running in. Her anklets tinkling was a dead give away of her arrival. She came squeaking my name. Climbed on my bed. Sat next to my work and started talking. Talking in a language that was clear and apparently coherent according to her. It was babble to me. It was so refreshing and tempting that I wrapped up faster than I normally would.

The kiddie, babble conversation I had with her later was the best part of the day. I had missed the most important part of my day till I narrated all the unwanted “ghory” specifs to him when he asked, “How was your day?” And he politely responded by reminding me how my little being fixed a messy day. In his perspective, I had an awesome day with the best work buddy in baby world.

Vulnerability

She looked forward to the day. The exact time of the day, to be precise, when she would lay her eyes on him. It had almost been an year.

When he called her to announce, “I’m here!” she couldn’t hold back the bounce in her strides, as she walked towards him. And when she saw him, she hurled herself at him, and took the long pending bear hug from him.

Just the thing she needed.

He held the strings that bound her, untangled them gently so that she could slowly breathe. The first breath she took cracked the high wall of pretense she had built around her. She took another deep breath and she found herself unravel in his arms.

Her vulnerability lay bare in front of him.

They sat next to each other on the bench. Leaves crackled as they shifted their feet. The winter afternoon heat warm on their backs. His arms around her shoulder. Her hands resting on her thighs. They sat for a while. Her emotions finally found words and they flowed from her lips. The unspoken, unseen weight slowly lifting from her shoulders.

Trusting that he can take it all, she unfolded. And he did.

Though they felt stillness around them, the time kept ticking. Finally it was time to leave, with a promise to see each other soon again.

As they both walked away in the opposite directions, she walked away with strength and courage to live from him. And he, with a bit of her soul.

The Right Questions

Summers are here. With it are all the flowers in bloom. And then there are paths like these, that you see here. I walk by this path. Everyday. Appreciating how pretty it looks.

Defined by the rules laid down at the workplace, I would refrain myself from capturing it. Because I thought I can’t. Even if it was outside the work premise.

Then today I asked myself, “But baby, what if you can?”

Partners in Crime

It was an excruciatingly hot afternoon for Bangalore. The AC of the Volvo bus was a respite. Usually, the driver conductor duo I come across are very normal.

But this duo, this duo was something. They were partners. I saw them sit, the way you see here, and enjoy each other’s company. There was lot of laughter and banters exchanged. They became partners in crime when they opened the front door and had a fun fake fight with the duo of the bus next to them. The door closed. The bus moved forward.

The laughter and animated conversation that ensued between them was a treat to my eyes and ears. The language barrier didn’t stop me from understanding the chemistry.
Things that make work fun.

Actions Instead of Words

Sometimes you don’t tell, just do.

An act of love.

A decision in action, silently taken.

Maybe an impulsive one. Maybe out of deep hurt. Maybe out of kindness. Maybe because you’re biting back words, so as to not scar another human. Maybe out of a silent protest. Maybe out of passion.

So, sometimes, you don’t tell, just take actions. At times they are louder than words. If not, at times they serve better than words.

Silent action.

Silence at times speaks the loudest.

Feeling Secure

Remember those long drives with your family, when you were small? When even an hour ride would feel like forever.

Remember when your dad drove the car when the stars were out? You would watch vehicles zoom by. And watch the headlights of the oncoming vehicles. Fasinated by the yellow light. And you would wonder, “How does dad not get distracted by them lights while driving?” Until, your eyes got tired and heavy. You would like down on the backseat, watching the stars. Blink several times in a vain attempt to keep yourself awake. And the next time you open your eyes, it’s morning already and you are snugly wrapped inside your blanket.

All that is left is a faint memory of a touch. Of being lifted and held close to mom’s/dad’s heart. Head resting on the shoulder as one hand held your head in place. Gently put you in bed. Tucked you in your favourite blanket.

Just like that the world was at peace. Secure.

Remember that feeling?

The Bitter Bile

Anger: it corrupts the mind. The mind stops thinking. A darkness grows, slowly spreading in the small confines of the heart. It will hear nothing. It will feel nothing but spite and hatred. These feelings dominate and take over everything, leaving no room to even reach out and try to kill them.

The anger just rises. Getting bitter by the day. No explanation. Just raw bitter bile.

The intimacy of the relationship doesn’t matter. The bitterness was harbouring and festing in the body for so long, that the soul refused to acknowledge anything else. There is no stopping. It grows, the bitterness, till the mind loses sense of anything good. The body will find itself standing, filled with black bitter bile. Unforgiving. Not thinking. Not anymore.

Until one day, the mind cracks. The bile spills out. The soul will rationalize the outburst by saying it needs to cleanse, express and emote. The tongue will wag. Fingers will point. There will be explosion. Maybe minor enough to cause a small burn. Or big enough to kill.

Then comes the calm after the storm.

The whole being, shaking, will question the root of the cause. It will question is it worth going that far in the past. Maybe it matters. Maybe it will heal. Maybe it doesn’t matter. May it will do nothing at all.

Until one day, the right question will be asked, “How do I stop the rise of this bile. How do I put an end to this all?”

And finally plead, “Just make it stop. Please.”