PS: This is for my friend's pet who I loved dearly. Sunshine. She had the loveliest voice ever. I tried to make this good but I couldn't. But I do want this to be my 50th post on here.
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Oh little yellow Canary
Perched on top of a mighty tree
You sing songs of melancholy
As we stop to listen.
Everyday your feathers fall
A reminder of your final call
Your sadness makes us all look small
And teardrops in our eyes glisten.
There's a distant look in your eyes
The color of the deepest skies
The window reflecting your helpless cries
But no one seems to see
For a bird's song is always careless
Free of impending worries or stress
So people laugh and say god bless!
Our chirpy little Canary.
Then one morning you were gone
And it was before long
No more was heard of the song
That still lingers in the air
But oh what I wouldn't give
To see you come back and live
And once again hold me captive
In your voice's golden lair.
Paper planes and puddles
Tiny tents and huddles
Colorful butterflies
Syrup on cold ice.
Toy cars and dolls,
Marshmallow stalls,
A blooming bud
A splash in the mud.
Candy and cake,
A quiet lake,
Rainbow in the sky
Heaven in my eye.
Stars in the night,
Silvery light,
A bed-time tale
And dreams that entail.
When I was six,
I lived
And now I exist
I only exist.
When I was six
I believed
In beauty and bliss
When I was six...
Every night I sleep
With pain anchored inside me
And the roots of it are deep
But sealed away so no one can see
Everyday I smile
Knowing my heart wants to cry
But I don't want to seem so fragile
To every onlooker's eye
So I swallow it all and when I feel too bad
When the tears won't stop when I'm just so sad,
When I can't bear it all, can't do anything,
I open my heart and sing
I open my heart and sing.
So I don't tell a soul about my grief
Because I know all the care is fake and brief
When life becomes a curse, when it gets maddening
I open my heart and sing
I sing.
Everywhere I go
I look at people around me, they seem happy
I wonder if it's really so
Or if they're just better at pretending
Every time I lie
On my bed, looking at the only star
I wipe a tear and heave a sigh
Wishing I could go somewhere that far
But I swallow it all and if I feel too bad
If the tears won't stop, if I'm just too sad
If I can't bear it all, can't do anything
I open my heart and sing
I open my heart and sing
Then I feel relief sweeping through me
Because a song can heal the worst misery
And then I smile, and this time genuinely
And things aren't so bad
Maybe tomorrow a good day will come
Maybe of all the sunshine, I'll get some
Maybe I'll know what it is to be glad
And things won't be so bad
And if it doesn't well
I'll swallow it all and if I feel too bad
If the tears won't stop, if I'll feel too sad
If I can't bear it all, can't do anything
I'll open my heart and sing
I'll open my heart and sing
And I won't tell a soul about my grief
Because I know all the care is fake and brief
When life becomes a curse, when it gets maddening
I'll open my heart and sing
I'll sing.
She had once told him while they were on the phone, "I don't care if you go on and sleep with random women. Have mindless sex with them. I just don't care because I know how it gets... I am so far away and there is nothing I can do about it. But I cannot stand it if another woman occupies your heart, if your love for her is stronger than what you have for me, I will lose all purpose of life. I won't know where I'd go, what I'd so, what I'd be."
He listened, reassuring her that she was the love of his love. He told her how he could never stop thinking about her eyes that had the depth of a thousand seas. He told her how he loved her hair, especially when she let it flow freely. He told her how he wanted to marry her and none but her because she was everything in his otherwise troublesome life. He told her that he knows that she doesn't much care for children but that he'd want her to be the mother of his child if he ever did have one. He told her about how his love for her was unrequited and how he lived every second to just make the one moment of their rendezvous everything that she had hoped for. He told her that he lives to see her one day, to be able to place his hands on her shoulders, gaze into her eyes and tell her how much he loved her.
She listened, feeling reassured. Hoping that he loved her as much as he said he did because she knew that even when he said all this, she was not the person in his head. He was speaking to a lover. But he wasn't speaking to her. He was saying all the right things but they weren't directed at her.
Then one day she asked him, "You still love her don't you?"
He did her the favour of being honest. He said that he did and that she knew he did. He had told her before that he'd never be able to forget her.
"Yes, I know", she pressed, "But you would you go back to her if she called you back? Would you give me up?"
He sighed and told her that he couldn't lie. He told her how they were together for five years. How they sat next to each other at work and looked at each other all the time. He told her how they were inseparable. He told her how she had been a huge part of his life and how she took a portion of his heart all for herself. He told her she was his companion and he was hers.
She understood completely, swallowed the pain that filled her up. Her senses, her body, her mind, her brain, her soul. She was a bundle of pain. Suffering. She was loveless. She was a lot of things but she wasn't non-understanding. So she told him she understood. She told him that she thought it was wonderful that he could love someone like that. She told him that it only made him more admirable in her eyes. She wasn't lying. She meant every word she said. But she left some things unsaid.
She didn't tell him that the rest of her life she could only pretend to be happy. She didn't tell him that she craved for someone's love. She didn't tell him that she wanted someone to love her as he loved his ex. She didn't tell him that she was devastated. She didn't tell him that she wanted to cry. Because for the first time, she felt bad for herself.
Then one day, she left. She didn't say where, she didn't leave a note, she didn't give him a reason. She just disappeared like she was never there. She left no traces of her presence. Nothing for him to remember her by. Nothing to remind him of her.
Ten days later, her brother called him to tell him that he could come to the funeral if he'd like. She suffered from a vague illness for which the doctors couldn't determine the cause. That was just another thing she didn't tell him.
This is a true story. Friend of mine from LA told me it happened in her sister's high school
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"Oi, Sarah! Guess what?!! I finally asked Raul to to go the dance with me and he said yes!!! Isn't that great?"
"He said yes?"
"Hah! Yes he did! I know... I know... I can't believe it myself!"
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"It wasn't like that Sarah, I was meaning to ask you first but she has been asking for like a month now and I just couldn't say no."
"You should have told me a week earlier. Not the day right before the dance. Bye Raul"
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"Hey Seth, would you go to the dance with me?"
"Sarah! Umm... I... would love to... but..."
"No it's alright I'll ask someone else! Thanks anyway!"
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"Raul... hey, RAUL!"
"Seth? What's up?"
"Did you see the evening papers yesterday?"
"Papers? Haha! No man why what's on?"
I wonder what made that young woman think that death was the answer to high school boy problems. I wonder what makes anyone think that death is the answer to any of life's problems. RIP
"I need to get my life together", sighed Andrea, her head rested on my shoulders. She was my age, shared the same dreams as me and liked the same things I did but unlike myself, Andy had a face as perfect as a painting, never sang in cacophonies and actually had a heart which I suspected was made of gold.
I patted her shoulder and tried to think of something comforting to say. "Andy I've known you for donkey's years and I know you will find a way out of this mess.", I said reassuringly. Andy shook her head and smiled. "You say that only to make me feel better"
"No I mean it."
"I don't think so. I'm nothing but a little dot on the vast planet trying to make my mark in this world even though there are people way better than I am, doing greater things than I do with a greater degree of perfection. I suck. End of story."
"Well...", I began and she cut me short immediately. "Don't!! Please don't say anything. I know what I am. I am a small fish in a big sea. If I dare venture outside of my little shell, I know I'm going to be eaten."
I sighed. "You're right Andy. There's nothing you can do about it. I guess you're just going to have to accept that you're good but not good enough. Not everybody makes it to the top of the ladder."
She looked askance at me, rubbing her thumbs together. She always did that.
"What do you mean *not good enough*?", she asked, careful to stress every word in its utterance.
"Just that... not good enough."
She stood up, arms akimbo and stared right into my eyes. "Look, I don't know about your standards but let me tell you... I've been published in more than one renowned journals, I have had three exhibitions of my artworks... two more on their way, and I have been invited to be the lead for the nationwide dance extravaganza. So if you wish to tell me that my accomplishments are *not good enough* I will need you to place on record your own. And after that you can badger me with your aspersions but until THAT happens I will *NOT* be abased, you hear?"
I allowed myself to smile a little and then stood up myself. "Now that we have this sorted out, you want to go to Ranger's and get pizza?", I asked averting a direct gaze at her searching eyes, fumbling with my purse. Andy stayed quite for a minute and then we both looked at each other and laughed our lungs out.
"You are such a piece of work, you know that?", she asked squeezing me into one of those girly hugs that I have never grown quite comfortable with even after ten years.
"Thanks Andy, I can say the same for ya."
She nodded and we walked hand in hand to the pizza restaurant down Baxter's Road, talking about horrible Mr. McMath at school and how difficult it was to find good looking boys to go to the dance with... and suddenly we were ten years old again.
It is amazing how sometimes your life seems to be so perfect - like someone took the missing pieces of a fabric and sewed it all together. You have a dream, you have love, you have a great family and the most entertaining and compassionate people as friends.
They say life is what you miss when you spend years thinking about what it is. So often, we forget to notice how meaningful everyday occurrences are. A mother's smile when you tell her what a wonderful cook she is. A brother's childish-yet-I'm-so-grown-up look when you speak to him about how precarious the road ahead can be if you have no plans. The look of gratitude in a friend's eyes when you tell them you'll be there... even though they probably wouldn't need you. It is in those little things that you find the true meaning of life. At the end of the day, satisfaction is what matters more than happiness. And what can be more satisfying than hearing from the ones you love the most about how much you mean to them?
So many of us seek adventure in life... Traveling the world, climbing an insurmountable hill, falling free from hundreds of feet above the ground, diving under the oceans to look at all the beauty that is concealed within... No doubt, a person learns a lot about her/himself during these overwhelming journeys. Surely, it helps them discover a part of them that they were either unaware of, or were uncertain of. However, what can be learnt from the details, can be learnt only from the details. There is a broader perspective to almost everything... more than what meets the eye. It is when we notice those that we truly begin to understand our purpose of existence.
When I sat, hands rested on my cheeks, looking out of the window - my mother sat beside me.
"So what is it?", she asked seeming to be very certain that something was amiss.
"Nothing maa. Just... looking at the birds.", I said convincingly. But she was my mother and she didn't buy that.
"Ah. Yeah lovely birds... black bodies and grey necks... how wonderfully they sing... caw, caw, cawcaw..."
I laughed and put an arm around the woman who is my best friend, my angel, my savior and my teacher. She can sweeten the sourness in my mood anytime.
"Very funny maa. You got me though, It's him. AND I know what you're going to say... I've been with guys before, I've thought I was in love and then turned out I wasn't ya da ya da ya da."
"Yes, that is what I would have said usually. But not this time. This time it's different I can tell."
I blinked. Say what? This was my mum right? 5'3, fair and nice black hair? Yep. Seemed so. She was smiling at me sensing the mild shock I was in and then she said - "Swati, when you're in love and when you're so far away from each other, things can be a little crooked. But if you can feel him when he says I love you and if his words make you happy and one look at him makes your heart sing, you should let go of the hard feelings you have. The essence of anything is in its details."
What can I say? I love my mother, I love the man I love and I love my life. Of course, very shortly you will read a blog post about how things can never go right for me and about how much life sucks, but hey... we're looking at the broader picture here... wait I mean the finer details... Agh! You get the point!
When life gives you lemons, collect them and then hurl them as forcefully at you can at all your problems and say "Problem ke bache tera mu kaala!"
