Guilty as Charged

I know exclusivity is very important for humans

Especially when it is about love

About being loved

I am saying this because, I know

I know how it feels when all of a sudden the bubble of exclusivity we create in our head, bursts

When all of a sudden it dawns on us

That the song wasn’t shared with us exclusively

Or those words

Or the walks

Or smiles

Or shared sighs

So Baba when I haven’t been able to reconcile with that

How can I ask you to…

And yes, that makes me guilty

Working Mom

I miss too much, you know

Way too much

Of your smiles, giggles, laughs

Of your angst, tears and pains

I miss too much, you know

Of your day… of your life

And then I try to paint it in my head

You playing

Or crying

Or laughing

And then I blame myself for what you are still not able to do

Such as

Eating a proper solid meal

Or potty training (partly because I don’t believe in training)

And I know you will get there too

But, you see

I miss too much…of you, Baba.

Story of A Difficult Love

He was a difficult man

Different too

Too different…

He had once said “I am too much in my wholesomeness…completeness”

Yes, He was a narcissist as well…

 

She hoped to reach to his depths

All the inner corners

Secret boxes

And dark patches (from the past, that often haunted his present)

Less and less so, now

But it did.

They both, kept on going

In unison

Or in separation (of moments that would stretch to days)

But kept going, they did.

She, in her little world

And he, in his big one.

With unlimited heart to give to anyone who may wanted or intrigued him.

He kept on crafting stories, living, dying, living…

And she fought on with elusivity…