Calming a raging storm.


Chaos hit me once more. It keeps hitting me. And sooner or later somehow I come out of it.

This time it looked impossibly. Everything, Every.Single.Thing, in my life right now is broken, leaking, poor, damaged or over. I am tired of this “I don’t need money just love” funda that I thought I could live through. I can’t.

I am stuck among negativity, revenge, cutting throat sarcasm, sweetened slavery. I don’t even know how to word my other problems. No matter where I am turning to, I am finding a dead end. It is very hard for me.

I cried for half an hour in the shower.

When life along with the soul is disturbed, nothing can be done. Maybe something can. I am turning around everywhere to find closed doors. I cannot, not in any freaking case, I can’t be where I am. I don’t even want to think of any reason to regret. I want to go. I am not meant for this. This is not who I should be. This is not what I should be doing.

My hands are tied. I want to shut my ears.

My soul is screaming inside my body. It is so hard, so very hard to calm myself down. Nobody, No freaking soul around me can calm this storm inside me. I am praying to God.

The silence is deafening. I am feeling so lonely.

I live in a house, with people in it. I have kids. I have a good husband. I have food to survive. I am thankful to God for all of this.

There is a scholar I greatly revere. He constantly stresses on having good character, mannerism and goodwill. Lack of all this along with a double dose of unthankfulness and negativity ravages in the house I live in.

I yearn. My soul yearns…..for peace. For calm. I want to redo and restart my life afresh. I want to have makeover of everything I am doing.

I recently read and article, that if you feel you are in a place that you feel is NOT THIS, then go get what you want. I am in the NOT THIS part of my life. I want to do something. But what I don’t know. I am living in a pathetic society, pathetic mentality, limited resources, no options, nothing.

Everything is so hard.

My kids aren’t making things easier for me either.

Hanging on by a withering thread of hope. Waiting for some freaking light to shine down me and get me out of here.



Dead Close Up.


Three days ago, my sister-in-law lost her father-in-law. I do not know much about him except what my SIL used to say about him. I met him on two occasions. Both the times, I found him to be a smiling man, with a lot of knowledge and seeking for more. I found him to be someone who recently discovered the sweetness of Faith. He had a good aura to him. He seemed fatherly to me.

He passed away three days ago. A sudden shocking death at the end of Friday prayers. An attack snatched his soul from his healthy body. He was never on medication.

Death doesn’t tell everyone and come.

I along with my husband’s family, went for condolence. His body was brought from the hospital to his wife’s maternal home. We went there. It was a big roomy old house.

As I entered the central room, there were women. His family and relatives. Sobbing. He was laid on a single cot, wrapped in clean white sheets. My heart trembled immensely. I had never seen a dead body. I saw him that day. They had uncle’s face uncovered. I couldn’t look at it. I just couldn’t. His wife sat beside him on a chair, crying inconsolably. Their daughter was sitting at their feet crying.

I did not ask my eyes to cry. The tears came on their own. I couldn’t look at uncle’s face above his nose. I just couldn’t see his eyes. Closed as they would be. He appeared as if he was asleep. I went and hugged aunty. I asked her to pray for him. And pray for herself too. For patience. I was crying from my heart. I didn’t care what anybody thought. I had met uncle only two weeks ago. Smiling and discussing how bad politics in the country had become. And now he was here lying before me. Not moving. I couldn’t take my eyes off aunty.

She was saying that he always gave strength to her, and now he himself weakened himself to death. Why?

As I sat a few chairs away, I was hoping with all my heart that uncle would get up and laugh and say Ha! Ha! I was just messing with you all. But he didn’t. He just lay there. Still. They covered his face with the sheet. And aunty kept crying.

You marry a man, with no idea about the future. You leave behind everything for a new beginning. You hold his hand, and mould into a lifestyle that syncs you both to perfection. And then one day Poof! He is gone.

When they lifted uncle to take him away for his last rituals, I wept again. Fresh tears. Where are you taking him? Why? Bring him back and ask him to wake up. Aunty needs him.

Later in the night, in the comfort of my bed, I couldn’t sleep. Death doesn’t scare me. You are going back where you came from. It is just what death does to those related that tears me apart. Everyone moves on though. Only those who really loved and cared would find a hole in their lives that no amount of consolation from anyone can fill it for them.





Sometimes life breaks us so bad, we wonder how on earth are we going to put our pieces back together. How do we get up?
I miss my mom. The last trip she made here, on the last night of her stay, her legs hurt. I offered to press them for her. It was dark and mom was sleepy. I held on to her legs and cried. For a long, long time. Marriage. Something that separates you from the safest haven and puts you out on your own to try to build yours. I miss my mom. When I bid farewell to her for her flight, I couldn’t stop crying. I cried the whole way back home in the car. I can’t be with her, I can’t be without her.

Today I miss her the most.My heaving heart misses her today so much. But then I know, if I got to see her now, I wouldn’t tell her what’s wrong. Too many tears in my mom’s own eyes taught me so well years ago to camouflage my tears so well, she would never know. Still a hug from her, she telling me I am a good girl would bandage my hurting soul, at least temporarily.

It hurts when you are not being understood. It hurts feeling alien. It hurts feeling ignored. It hurts feeling used. But do you know what hurts the most? It hurts that when you are hurt you want to revert back in a certain way to make yourself understood, but you just can’t, because that’s now how you have been raised. You can’t follow the script you wrote inside your head, because that’s not who you are. 

Alone, humiliated, insulted, I cried while I made rotis for my kids. My soul spoke up. Spoke to my inner angel voice. Asked it, why God is silent watching me suffer inside. Pat came the reply. Because I am silently watching my time suffer. I don’t pray with the same fervour. I stopped asking for forgiveness. I went silent on God. The only one, my only constant, and I went silent on Him.

Main hi woh jo rehmat se gira

Aye khuda… gir gaya gir gaya

Main jo tujhse door huaa

Lut gaya, lut gaya…

Aye khuda…….

Aye khuda…

Kyun judtaa iss jahan se tu

Ik din yeh guzar hi jayega

Kitna bhi samet le yahan

Muthi se phisal hi jayega

Har shakhsh hai dhool se bhara

Aur phir usme hi jaa mila

Yeh haqiqat hai tu jaan le

Kyun sach se mooh hai pherta 

 Not the whole song, but these parts of the lyrics fit me right now so well. I ran away from myself. Today my natural voice screams inside me, why do I have to face all this? What did I do to deserve this? Why do I have to be the only one patient? Then my angel voice replies, because I prayed for this! Damn! I prayer for this, I spent nights up in prayer convincing God I could handle anything just get me here. Oh, how naive I was. I literally asked God to put me here! And you know what? God always listened to me. He still does. I always get what I wish for and what I pray for. My wishes and prayers are so messed up, that sometimes I wonder why I prayed for a certain thing. Then I fear unthankfulness, so I shut up and let my inside voices battle. That’s what messed me up. There are some things that I want to so bad. But I get afraid that what if I ask God and He gives me and I mess up again and regret. Maybe I should add at the end of my prayer, that my wishes to be fulfilled if they are good for me. 

It is such a strange cold world. Everything is so temporary, it is freaky. It took me four years to understand that nobody is mine. Everyone has a tiny role in a part of life and they all fly away. Parents and siblings. They are priority. The moment you’re married, gone. They fly away. No, we fly away. Husband. Yours but never really yours. He is himself. His own self. Friends. Always there. But not at all parts of the moments of life. Kids. Only till their childhood. Then they fly away too. Heck, even we are never our own. I can never control my physical body always. I can’t stop sickness. I can’t make pain go away. I can’t force my eyes to stop tears. I can’t ask my heart and brain to not get hurt when others say hurtful things. I am not even my own.The only one always there is God. The only constant. The only solace.

And like every time I fall, I get up, again. Because I believe in a thing called Hope. Come hail or storm, I pray to God that Hope doesn’t die in me. I just hope that I am not putting myself in a further mess with this wish though!



It comes. Shakes our priorities. And then goes away. That is what illness does.

Changing weather says the doctor. Both my kids fell at the same time. One with fever, cold and cough that just won’t seem to go, and my second one with severe cough. Did I feed them wrong? Did I make them eat something they shouldn’t? No, that is what my brain tells me. The doctor says they’ll be fine.

Fine. But it shakes me up. This illness thing. It makes me Thank God for all the healthy moments. Makes me thank God for the all the healthy parts of our body. But when my kids cry out of fever or cough, or they wipe their little noses on little hankies, my heart wonders why them, why not me. Maybe I am totally sentimental in this issue.

Let’s just pray they get well soon and run around and make chaos like they always do.