Writing is a need for me. Some thoughts stay in my head till I put them down. Some are deeply personal (or just plain scary :)), and I put them down in my diary. Some are more loud and need visibility, I put them here because this is public, but still less known. And some need acknowledgement and those go on FB. But if I don't write them down anywhere, they swirl in my head and go round and round with options, possibilities, questions. The instant they're written, they seem to leave me in peace. As if their purpose is done - those string of words in that sequence needed to be noted down somewhere and are happy to be strung together and don't need to reside in my head anymore.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Final farewell
It's funny what we think of as a final farewell to the people who pass away. When someone passes away far from us, we know they're gone, but till we see the body it's almost as if this isn't real and will change. Even then they look like they're sleeping, maybe they'll wake up.
And when they take the body away - in India the women can't go to the funeral so the walk away from home is the final look - it hits you. You can never see that face again in real life, never touch it. You can see photos, hear videos. But those arms are gone. Those eyes are closed. And though they stopped being 'them' the instant the soul left, this is the final goodbye. For you, not for them.
And it's a kind of ritual that's a bit silly and yet gives comfort - the prayers they sing as they take the person away. The words make you cry more because there is a finality - that prayer, that 'ram naam satya hai', so unrelated it feels, yet that's it, that's the final toll of the bell that means goodbye. And yet I found it peaceful, because it makes you acknowledge something, gives you closure. You have no choice but to accept the death. And that allows you to move on. And I can understand why family want to wait for people from far away to come, to give them a chance for that closure.
It makes sense. But man it hurts.
And when they take the body away - in India the women can't go to the funeral so the walk away from home is the final look - it hits you. You can never see that face again in real life, never touch it. You can see photos, hear videos. But those arms are gone. Those eyes are closed. And though they stopped being 'them' the instant the soul left, this is the final goodbye. For you, not for them.
And it's a kind of ritual that's a bit silly and yet gives comfort - the prayers they sing as they take the person away. The words make you cry more because there is a finality - that prayer, that 'ram naam satya hai', so unrelated it feels, yet that's it, that's the final toll of the bell that means goodbye. And yet I found it peaceful, because it makes you acknowledge something, gives you closure. You have no choice but to accept the death. And that allows you to move on. And I can understand why family want to wait for people from far away to come, to give them a chance for that closure.
It makes sense. But man it hurts.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Days when you...
Wake up feeling different. Some days there is a lot of energy and joy. Some days are quieter. It's one of those days today. Missing my mom, my family who aren't close anymore... I always say I'm mush since my son's birthday - a tap waiting to leak :). Today is one of those days, were it feels like I have feelings up to my neck waiting to spill out.
I think it's all the holidays, all the birthdays. August is filled with these for me and in India. And as you wish everyone that's far away or no longer around, you think more and more of them....
Ah well, good morning...
I think it's all the holidays, all the birthdays. August is filled with these for me and in India. And as you wish everyone that's far away or no longer around, you think more and more of them....
Ah well, good morning...
Saturday, August 10, 2013
What happened to safety?
As a woman, I used to be quite the new age girl - ricks are good, taxis are safe. I can travel anywhere, at any time, as long as I am sensible about the time and the place. But the Delhi incident (Nirbhaya) and that lawyer who was attacked by the delivery guy have left me shaken. If I am alone in the house, I lock up twice, and am doubly sensitive to sounds. I wonder how the rick wala is looking at me, or the delivery guy. I have installed Life 360 app on my phone, and always keep in touch with some family member when I travel later in the night. Keep my pepper spray more accessible even within my purse, when I am alone or travelling late with my son.
Took my son to the garden today. A garden I have played in as a child a thousand times. But today, I was a lone woman with my son. And I was wary of any man that was close to me, to my son. Out of the 4 men I saw, 2 were some sort of dancers, just practicing, probably having no place to practice at home. One was just running around, had his headphones on. And one just hovered. And he worried me. And I wanted to let my son have his time. But I wanted to run. Between the fear of someone kidnapping my son, and something happening to me, most of these outings are sometimes not worth it. This is why I prefer malls.
I miss the Mumbai I used to be brave in. As an accomplished woman, successful in her career, happy to have a balanced role where I don't have to overly prove myself, yet have certain privileges as a working mother, I have found life extremely suitable to a woman. But no amount of success, of achievements, of capability, take away the vulnerability and fear of being a woman in a world of men that can and do take advantage.
When does Kalyug end again?
Took my son to the garden today. A garden I have played in as a child a thousand times. But today, I was a lone woman with my son. And I was wary of any man that was close to me, to my son. Out of the 4 men I saw, 2 were some sort of dancers, just practicing, probably having no place to practice at home. One was just running around, had his headphones on. And one just hovered. And he worried me. And I wanted to let my son have his time. But I wanted to run. Between the fear of someone kidnapping my son, and something happening to me, most of these outings are sometimes not worth it. This is why I prefer malls.
I miss the Mumbai I used to be brave in. As an accomplished woman, successful in her career, happy to have a balanced role where I don't have to overly prove myself, yet have certain privileges as a working mother, I have found life extremely suitable to a woman. But no amount of success, of achievements, of capability, take away the vulnerability and fear of being a woman in a world of men that can and do take advantage.
When does Kalyug end again?
Scary forwards!!!
Got this scary message forward - one about some dad who whacked his kid's hand with a wrench when the kid scratched on the car; later found out he had scratched "I love you", and now the kid had lost his fingers. Dad committed suicide. A part of me goes - does a parent really do that? I mean seriously? For a car? And a part of me wonders - can I get that caught up in my day, my anger, that I would not only be that mad at my child, but actually hurt him that much? Such things make you stop and wonder.
I read about all the things that happen to children these days. And I cannot imagine any of it ever happening to my child - I think a lot of odd things, and I process the oddest of possibilities. But anything happening to my child? It's a thought my mind won't complete.
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