Eyes on you

That day, that moment was totally different. Yes, I am talking sense. This happens to everyone who believes in love, love that blinds and binds you without you knowing when and where.

The way you ebbed in and out the view, that was a celebrated glee to my eyes. The eyes that were tired of broken sleep were soothed by the bluish tint of your reflection. But I did not want to be disheartened by the truth that lies clandestine amidst the joyous spell cast by the royal blue. I knew and I retracted from all the joy that radiated from a distance on to me and the excitement and merriment were all put to halt. I moved away from a blue to another, to the blue of the sky. Yes, I started gazing onto the sky to keep me shut from you and I started making shapes that appealed to my eyes. But my eyes were cunning that it slipped my control to peep into the blue that watched me. My neck stared aching but you were still there fading in and out with other onlookers gazing on you. I retired faking sleep, deceiving me.

I couldn’t carry on the drama for my eyes forced its lid open to meet yours but you were gone. You were far from my view. The four eyes that played the game of (love) settled on to end it. Yes, thus the show ended, I do not know with joy or fun or gloom. But I know it was over. And as I was wiping off the memory of the (love) ballad that our eyes had written you rose from the seat to retire forever. With a heavy heart, not making my eyes meet yours, I bid adieu. Later, I wrote in my diary of memories…”And we will never meet again”, hoping to meet you sometime, somewhere.

We meet to soon part our ways and never to meet again, then why do we actually meet?

 There is no reason but then yes we are destined to meet to just give us the wisdom that certain things are not meant for us even if we desire for it by heart. Here the eyes met but when the ballad is written by two hearts, I wish, they are not torn apart but be tethered forever in unison.

               Today, love departed our paths

               I stayed, you moved

              And there is a long road ahead

              Where our paths might cross

              Until that day I stay, my love.

                                  ...Cerah

Mesmerizing Chacko!!!

During one of my journeys to enjoy the voluminous thrill of being in harmony with nature, I met this young man who was captivated by the ecstasy of hoping around with those beautiful crafts of nature. I was just thrown into admiring the beauty of this young man and his heart-full way of playing with the little gift of the nature. I gazed at the pacifying scene ‘a man in his twenties enjoying like a child’. I could see an enigma of rhapsody this guy had when he hoped around the butterflies and grasshoppers and other small birds around there. While he was mesmerizing the creatures around him, I was mesmerized by his ways...

About half an hour I observed this young man, ignoring the growls of my own friends to accompany them for trekking. I was more mesmerized by this scene rather than to gang up with my own friends to trekking, pounding my own heartbeat to enjoy the adventure, I rather preferred to listen the rhythm of my heartbeat watching this exquisite man. But then my senses were disrupted by the grapple of his friends similar to mine who might have been on some mission enraged and bored by this guy’s way of enjoying. They were making such hard noises that all the beautiful birds and butterflies hoping around him disappeared. They called aloud... “Chacko mathiyeda” (Chacko enough).

 Chacko, I thought to myself, I will marry a man named Chacko. But years later I identified that finding someone with name ‘Chacko’ to get married to is a tedious job but then I decided it doesn’t matter if I am not married to Chacko but if ever God bless me with a baby boy definitely he is going to be named Chacko. I still hold on to that dream ... having a Chacko for myself, who will play with the birds and butterflies , who will love the nature like the Chacko I met years back and will find comfort being in harmony with the sanctity of this beautiful mother Earth.

REVERIE

With a deep sigh, I turned back

Back to me, eyes wet

And with a heavy heart, I wept

My thoughts dropping dead

As I walked down the aisle

I was sinking.

Day and night has passed

But everything the same

I was all the same

Those words said

It played around and around

Haunting!!!

I was lonely, deep inside

I took a walk to keep me live

I passed those places,

Where weeping willows kissed

Those valleys

I walked and walked...

I lost my way, I realized it late

I lost my heart and now my way

I cried and cried, no one came

I was tired and I slept

And I woke up to a scream

 I saw my pillow was wet!!!

             ...Sarah

Lost Identity

Deep in melancholy I meandered through the scattered perplexity of my life, I found I am deeply being sceptic.

Many came up with their thoughts, that I am paranoid.

I was even sceptic the love and care my parents were showing were to overshadow my identity. I was being put into dark by the love they had for me. I did not even know whether they were truthful to me in any ways. The more they exhibited the love the more I was near to acceptance that I am being fooled.

Suddenly my phone rang, “mom calling”, and I stood there wondering whether it made any sense now. I was further being thrown into the dilemma of being pushed into the thought of losing my identity. ‘Mom’ does that hold its meaning in my life.

I least bothered to attend the call, because I did not want to hear more lies.

How long will I've to suffer this?

Be in disguise.

Where do I actually belong? To the parents I call my mom and dad now or some streets where I was thrown when I was born.

I don’t know but I am standing here asking to myself, who am I?

A girl with a lost identity...I thought to myself.

(This story is dedicated to a special friend who was orphaned by her own parents)

My prayer for you

My love...

I want you to know, I am writing this from the bottom of my heart, that I love you above all that matters to me. May be you've not realized the depth of it when I told you this long back, and I know you had reasons too. Then we decided to be friends because I was afraid of losing you. But you were gone; it did not work out the way I thought.

You had your own priorities in life and I am not being oblivious to it. I know you never thought the way I thought. You never had the dreams I had. We were two different people who were destined to meet at some point and walk away into two different destinations that life chose for us.

It is ok, for one day will come when I find my own guy and you will find your own girl, who will always stay by our side, sing for us, eat with us, take care of us in every other way possible... but for me I will still be missing you somewhere, somewhere deep in the corner of my heart. But you may not know.

Dear friend, I have a prayer for you...if I can’t be the one let a better one come to beautify your life better than me in all the ways, who will live only for you and complete your life in all the ways you want it to be...for I want you to be happy where ever you are.

Thank you for being my first love and you were not the kind of person I ever used to dream but I fell in love with you for some reason which I can’t figure out (and I think I've once told you this, it will be like explaining the color of water).  I am thankful to you for many things...You gave life to my dreams and made me pen down my thoughts once again which I forgot years back.

Let our friendship live many more years and when you find the girl of your life and when I find the guy of my life... let us share it with utmost joy and smile from within and wish each other the a happy life full of love.

I love you

s...

How it all started...

I want to speak of this,  that made sense to me years back, I want  to speak of this that seemed important to me above all .But today I want to turn away, away from it but I am helpless because I am chained to the thoughts that made a deep scar within me.

It was during one of those days, I cannot remember exactly when. My memory is suffering to find from the many, for long years have leaped since this happened. But I have to, for this was that special day. For this alone my memory must not fail, for this is the dearest of all that has happened to me. Ha! It was in the month of February...years back.

This story sets in with the back drop of a busy medicine ward... it was around 7:30 am I was standing here in this ward all set to start my day’s duty and was waiting for all the staffs to pour in for the handing over and to relieve the night duty sister from her hectic 10-11 hour duty. The duty in medicine floor is a real nightmare...  a single staff and an army of patients ranging from stable to those very sick waiting to take the last breath, some on IV fluids, some connected to ventilators others on continuous infusions, the very sight of it is tiring and so doing the duty alone ... it is more than a nightmare. I am not going to describe too many of this doleful stories, because the interesting part that stays awake in my memory will then be quelled.

Around 7:45 am all the ‘ladies in white’ flocked together to scream at that lone sufferer of night (blinding purposefully to the whole lot of chores she has done alone). The flock started the mission with the head of the army the one with some 2 codes on her ‘crown’ (the so called symbol of her power)moving from the first cubic over to the second, shouting for such inane matters  ( which always made me hate this profession). And the “aiyoo pavam” (poor) night duty sister wanting to finish her duty and run back home, staying calm to all these shouting, what else she can do maybe she has grown immune to such nonsense shouting, but me the youngest of the crew stood there in quandary wondering how long will I have to take this, cursing the moment I decided to be a part of this white flock.

The group somehow managed to reach the 4^th cubicle, (and this hospital has 4 cubicles and a 5^th one with 4 beds where the so called sick patients are admitted... or rather those who are waiting the call by God are resting...) the 4^th cubicle first bed (this is where the story actually begins). I loathed that bed for some reason which I am not able to pick up from the many that cross my mind. The patient lying there had so many injections, I loathed that very bed not because the number of injections scared me nor was I lazy, but for one reason. This lady who I am referring to has been in that ward for more than 3 weeks, I suppose and all her veins were thrombosed and each time I had to find a new vein to inject her (rarely did I succeeded in that mission) and I think my professional insufficiency in finding a vein depressed me more than the thought of inflicting pain on a patient who  already writhe in pain from the many pathologically process going on within her  and the very sight of me approaching her to give the injection reflected a gloom in her face as if I was going to kill her. Ah! Well but today when I think, I love this lady for it is because of her, this story happened and it is because of her I am writing this.

Okay, so this young lady (not so young), had some neurology problem, I don’t exactly remember the diagnosis, was admitted here and not in neurology ward because of the non-availability of vacant bed in that ward. She needs to undergo some surgery and this was getting postponed due to many reasons. This fine morning the night duty sister had a happy news for everyone and especially for me for my war with this lady is going to end. This young lady has been posted for an emergency surgery. All were happy thinking that at last she will be relieved of some pain she had been suffering a lot lately, but I was happy thinking ‘thank god I do not have to prick her a 100 times before I can give her some injections’. It was so unprofessional to have thought like that but this was the very thought that crossed my mind at that moment.  

I was so much immersed in the thought of my relief, when I heard the night duty sister telling that someone will come for the pre-anaesthetic check up. The very moment I did not realize that the person who is going to come for the PAC to check whether this patient is stable or not for surgery is going to destabilize me for the rest of my life.

The flock after finishing the discussion over this emergency surgery matter moved on and finished the handing over. Now the stage is all for me, I have to start my play one by one and first on the list was to give the injection (the Job I hated the most). I managed to finish that and did some other work and after sometime the staff on duty told me she is going to have breakfast and left.

I was on kneels searching for something in the cupboard... suddenly from somewhere I heard “where is the sister?”

I got a bit baffled by that question, and I stood up and answered “yes”.

The reply was, “where is the sister?”

 I was a bit confused, why on earth is this guy asking where the sister is when I am standing right in front of him all alive. He was not blind.

Here right in front of me was a handsome guy in his late twenties wearing a blue shirt which added to his “the handsomeness”, with a red stethoscope around his neck. So he was someone who belonged to the family, not any random guy coming and asking where the sister is.

 “I am the sister”, I replied

To my surprise he asked again, “I want to talk to sister”.

Oh my god, I thought, what is wrong with this guy, many thoughts flashed by and I was skeptic that he may even be deaf. So, this time I replied a bit louder “I am the sister, what is the matter?”

He was so stubborn that he wanted to see ‘the sister’; my existence did not matter to him. He told, this time bit clear (may be the same thought process might have worked in his brain too, that the lady standing next him may be deaf, insane or something) “I want to see some senior sister”. So now I was clear he is not deaf, he did not want to talk to me whatever the matter was but to some senior sister.

“Senior sisters are having breakfast”, I replied.

Suddenly I don’t know from where this thought crossed my mind, that this person standing before me asking for the sister to whom he want to talk some important matter might be the ‘pre-anaesthetic guy’ who has come to check my friend whether she is fit for surgery or not.

Suddenly without a thought I told him, she is in bed no 19. He looked at me puzzled.

I told again “the patient posted for emergency surgery is in bed no 19”, he was all the more puzzled and would even have thought that I was insane.

He moved towards bed no 19, 4^th cubicle and came back, asked me “sister, where is the file of that patient?”

I took and gave it to him. He checked the patient and came back to the nurse’s station and sat on a chair and started scribbling something and when finished with it told me that the patient has to be kept ready for surgery and to carry out the orders.

I desperately wanted to ask him ‘you wanted to see a senior staff to tell this?’ but I did not.

He handed over the patient’s file to me and was ready to leave.

He moved from the nurse’s station and was walking along the corridor. I stood there gazing at him walking out of the ward and vanishing.

I stood motionless, deeply in thought, gazing into the emptiness of the corridor.

I was brought back to senses when some patient or bystander shouted “sister, glucose mudinjichu” (Sister, the IV fluid is over). I was back to my routines, but I was lost, lost in the place between sleep and awake... I was but not dreaming.