A Time For Grief

A recent series of events made me think of death. Not as a character in a book by Pratchett but as a phenomenon that everybody has to deal with at some point or the other. While searching around for the right words of consolation, we invariably end up with some form of 'Its all right'. I have heard those words said to me and at that point of time, I vividly remember, I wanted to strangle the person saying them. At that moment, in that place, standing with your world broken into minuscule pieces around you, it is bloody well not alright; but trust me when I say, in time, it will be. This is something of a reassurance, I am not exactly sure for who. Myself most probably.

A Time For Grief

A time for denial,
For dry eyes and preoccupied manner,
Mind running in loop - 'no,no,no,no'.

A time to see lips move but hear no words,
Stand limp in embraces wondering,
'Why?why?why?'

A time for laments when truth trickles through,
Sob shaken shoulders, gasping breath,
Heart hammering its way out your chest.

A time to cry yourself to sleep,
Wake up and remember,
Then cry some more.

A time to be strong for others' sake,
To hold them as they break,
Whisper in their ears, 'its all right, its all right'.

A time for people when you want them least
Awkwardness borne for a courtesy call
Torturing themselves, torturing you...

A time for loneliness and an empty house
Imagining movements at the corner of an eye
Listening for footsteps which will sound no more

A time for anger, face down on a bed or against a wall
Punching, kicking, hurting yourself
Shifting the pain from the heart elsewhere

A time for long showers
Mingling your tears with the water streams
So no one would know.

A time to try and forget
And be cruelly reminded by force of habit
A name choked on, speed dials pressed and cut.

A time for normalcy, when life calls you back
Things which have piled up
Phone calls, e-mails, the works.

A time to know that time has passed
To flinch and then know that pain is a thing of the past
Salt drained, leaving the sweetness of memory

Times will come when remembrance will hit you
The colour of the sky, the smell of a flower
Triggers for dormant memories
Broken bones of the past twinge on cold nights
Or some old forgotten joke suddenly make you smile

Time will come for you and me and them we love
Goodbyes followed by times of grief
But that is a price one has to pay
For the privilege of sharing their time
For calling your existence a life well lived in their company.

In Defiance

I have never been poetically inclined. Which is not the same as saying I have never tried my hand at it . Yesterday night or rather, today morning, I was watching Alexander. It was 3.30 in the morning and I could not sleep. This did not sound right in prose - hence the poetry. I don't know whether this even qualifies as poetry, what with the absence of rhyme or metre... I believe there is some influence of Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. Anyway, here it is.

In Defiance

Tiger, be ashamed of your stripes,
Go paint your yellow white!
Then, you might fit in with the zebra clan
For, to be different my dear, is pride.

If you have wings, unfurl them not
Lest the mob find out and chop them off
Push away all thoughts of soaring high
For who be you, to reach for the Gods?

Work hard all day, glory in toil,
Each callus on your palm, a medal be
But ask naught in return for the sweat of your brow
For, to take your reward would be greed.

Give no voice to your dreams, dear heart,
Though they be grand and glorious,
Strive not ever to be better than another
For in our world, ambition is a sin.

They will clap you in chains for your defiance
Shake their heads as though it pained them
With well feigned kindness they would bid you listen
'Don't you see you erred my son?'

With honeyed words on forked tongues
They would speak whilst you listened entranced,
Till the weight of your guilt is upon you
And for the love of your peers you bend.

The words to you would seem hollow
Still raise their banner you would
And mingle your voice with theirs and cry-
'Joy in uniformity, pride in mediocrity, in equality we prevail!'

I'd sit on the sidewalk and mock you
As you go by toting your banners
You who would change your stripes
And shed your wings to be one with the faceless mob

'Why oh why?' I'd wonder and you'd say ' It is lonely at the top'
I would listen aghast at that treason to memory
Of the thousand joys there be on that glorious zenith
All you'd remember is solitude

If that be the price of success, then so be it
Give me a hundred years of that solitude
To know no shame for I am who I am
To claim what is mine without guilt
To stand on that summit with my head held high
Golden sunshine on my brow
To hear the whisper of wind in my ear -
'Brave heart, the world belongs to you.'