Posts Tagged ‘brother’

The Perpendicular Universe unfinished

Been a while, I haven’t penned anything on these leaves. I have been lost in the humdrum of the mundane. A job that sucks me in, and eats away my precious hours. Takes me away from the world of writing. But these special leaflets are always there. In the backdrop of my head. Silently calling me. Making me feel the void. Trying to make its presence felt. Then life manages to put me in front of the screen somehow, as if the croons of this blog get heard.

I wish to press these leaves with only the best. Maybe that’s what takes a lot of time. To only fill the easel with quality work. My brother had asked me to keep it as a wont, when I am in the right zone. To him it is one of my best collections hitherto, a magnum opus weaved with a keen wisdom. I intend to keep it that way. It lets me unspool myself, the real me, into validation. An introspection of sorts that might reflect the real me to a reader if there is one at all.

Today, I am squeezed into work so much that this blog stays hidden from me. I distribute myself to others, so much that I forget my own identity. But this right here, this, lets me appreciate myself. When I take a step back to look at it, I realize it is nothing but my mirror. It lets me behold the real me. It lets me fathom myself more. Words smeared on these blanks tell me that I am different. It lets me dig deeper into a head of a writer, a poet who is insanely in love with words, with a brain uplifted and a head that reeks of beautiful and sentient thoughts.

What is unfortunate is the fact that he barely has time to cover ‘em all. There is so much beauty yet to read, so many wonderful people yet to encounter, so many experiences yet to experience, so much land yet to cover, so much love yet to shower, so many unknown faces yet to scan, so many enthralling creations yet to marvel at, and there are so many gorgeous thoughts in his skull still embryonic, veiled, that can only unfurl with time. It’s a shame that it’s running out.

The Perpendicular universe Fallen from a horse There isn’t a body around me. No one I could call mine. No one who could call me his. Seems everything is crouching away from me, cringing its claws into the hollows of self-absorption. I have seen people do that. Forget you! Like you never existed, or existed but only as a background noise.

I remember the swell times I have spent with my brother, sharp as a crystal and clear as a conscience, talking for hours without taking a breath to think. Unending ceaseless talks they were, that would beat time. We would sway into the space like a bunch of curious astronauts and explore the unexplored stars. Our imagination – our telescopes. We would throw our nets into the dark, and catch fishes made of twinkles. We didn’t need anybody to guide us. We would learn from our mistakes, learn from our words. Our lips taught us what teachers couldn’t. Hours and hours of invested time that bore only fruits!

As a kid, my mum would often instruct him to hold my hand and never let go. To take care of me always. “Because he is still very young and he doesn’t know the ways of the wicked world.” It sometimes makes me picture it like this:

I see my mum waving us farewell for a journey I am too scared to take. But I am not alone and not on my own because I have my brother to call the shots. He is on a steed and been instructed to take me with him. I am sitting behind him holding him, with my arms wrapped around his waist. I turn around with a quivered brow and tearful eyes to take one last look at my mother. She is still busy asking him to go slowly and take care of me. That I am still very young and might fall off the horse. She then looks at me and smiles, and mouths, “Hold your brother tighter!” I firm up my grip. The horse takes off and gallops its way into the blue. We enjoy the cool breeze that giggles in our hair. The journey seems everlasting and we keep galloping playing to the rhythm of the gravel.

I am holding him with a comforting heart. The fact that I am not alone on the saddle soothes me. I try to close my eyes as the steed paces harder. Then suddenly I feel myself heaving up. My hand loosening its grip. The horse jumps over a hurdle, and then resumes its journey. But…..But I have fallen. I am on the ground. I am hurt. I am in pain. I can’t open my mouth to tell him that I have been left behind. I try my best to, but I simply can’t. I just make a silent scream, more of a complaint, that my brother has forgotten about me. He is still riding the horse. Still enjoying the gust in his hair. Whilst I sit in the dust the horse made through its tracks. Covered in red and filth.

He got married. Someone dearer walked into his life, and he lost focus. Suddenly I began to wither. Suddenly I began fading away as if I was a puny mote from a cloud of dust caught up in a strong rush. Our ceaseless talks ceased. Our fire simply ran out. My cords cut. I was left to float alone in the space. I was just left stranded. As if he raced the horse too fast, and forgot all about me. Forgot that his waist carried tiny hands that held him with a promise of eternity. My eyes are still complaining: But mom said, “Take care of your brother!”

I am fallen. I am scared. I am all alone. I guess there comes a time in our lives when we are supposed to feel that way. When people juggle with their priorities and choose someone else to you. I remember the time when I would have blasts with my cronies. Now I often sit in the second seat waiting for my turn to come. I hate that feeling. However honest it might sound I am still a kid waiting to be loved. Waiting for that horse to turn, and come pick me up!


As a kid, I had never thought it through. Farewells and goodbyes. Our mind would always be preoccupied with the next big adventure, to pay heed to a waving hand. It was like a future of fun that strayed ahead into the pastures of the unknown, and all I cared then was to graze alongside them rather than sulk and look back. I never looked back.

That carefree age! We were never that attached to anyone. Our strings dangled freely back then. No tears of a heartache, no promises of a future, no worries of looking back, no woe, only joy. I would make fun of those who would cry on our departure. I would point out to my elder brother in a goofy tone, “Oooooooo! Auntie is crying!” and we would both chuckle derisively making a mental note to tease her in a blackmailing future.

Then what happened? Then, we grew up.

The first time I felt an immediate absence was when my sisters were leaving for their posted imminent future. I remember those tears that came to my eyes, taking me and my clenched fist by surprise, as I tried to wipe them off in discretion. They were standing at the door of that train, refusing to go back in, as the train chugged its final leaving. Both their teeny eyes on me, their lips syncing in unison, mouthing “Bye-Byes” and “Love you so much” notes quietly. I was responding to them with a sinking heart signaling them to get in, go to their seats. As the train took them away from me, I could still see them peeping, staring at me with tears in their eyes, still standing at that door and waving a painful au revoir. That was the first time I realized a goodbye grief. The pain of someone’s leaving. It struck me so hard I wanted to slap the younger me through time travel.

I used to make fun of my mother when she would roll tears for me whenever I was about to embark on a journey. Now, that I have fathomed emotions that drench a farewell, I can relate. I can empathize.

I had written this for her once I was in a quandary:

Every time I hug her tight and land a peck, she always cries. Makes me wonder: “Am I really that warm or is my void too depressing to bear?”

Then there was this angst soaked in a forever parting, that I believe lasted till eternity. The heartbreak. I remember going home to my brother in tears, hugging him so tight it might have broken his ribs, weren’t he fat. All those ‘what-ifs’ came haunting to me every night, and I would be disappointed to wake up in reality. That goodbye was the most shattering one to me, probably because there was ‘a promise of forever’ entailed that had just been broken, probably because the idea of never seeing someone again was analogous to death to me. She had died that day for me. I was realizing it every moment. So the tears were punishing and my life unbecoming.

I had experienced a disheartening farewell yet again and had decided to breathe it to a paper. Funny how age helms us towards empathy!

Watching you go was the hardest thing. I knew I didn’t have much time and that after few minutes you would be gone. I knew I would never see you again. My heart was pounding. It was heavy as hell. Desperation came oozing out. I couldn’t do anything about it. I didn’t care if the world saw me like that. I just wanted to be with you. I didn’t know what was going through your head. I just knew what was going through mine. I couldn’t say ‘Goodbye’. I would choke if I did, so I thought. I tried to gush in happy thoughts. But the tragedy that was about to happen, stared at me.

My eyes were about to lose them. Those tears. You pacified me with a hug. I wish I had hugged you tighter. Maybe that would have forced you to stay. You disappeared in the bus. I searched you like a mad man. People would have thought I was crazy. I hardly cared. All I could see was you. Rest was hazy. Rest was vague. When you mouthed ‘I love you’ to me, it became my life’s biggest achievement all of a sudden. It made me feel special. Even though for a second, I visited heaven and came back. Because hell was about to begin. Your bus went straight into the oblivion. I waited for it to turn. But it didn’t.

At times we don’t even come across a farewell. We just uproot a person out of our soul. It is as simple as pressing the shift + delete button. At such an hour, you believe probably that soul wasn’t worth your goodbye. That it was the only way. A wave from your attachment could have possibly changed your mind. Another meeting could have changed your thoughts about letting go.

Pi Patel from Ang Lee’s masterpiece Life of Pi says:

I suppose in the end, the whole of life becomes an act of letting go, but what always hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye.

Not turning back. I have used it but only at desperate moments. I believe it is justified at desperate times. When there is nothing left. When you know that your feet might fall off, if you turned. Your mind would change if you peeked at your past. Roads that wave ahead would collapse if you stopped. Seeking this crude alternative then is fine, I surmise.

When people go away, there is an oblivion that eats their existence. Things don’t remain the same. Your memories of times spent together reek of rust. When a fully fledged awareness of an impending goodbye hits you in the head, you begin thinking all sorts of stuff. You project yourself to a timeline, a state, where you feel the absence. You cannot bear to see that reality of solitude. You shudder at the mere thought of living without. That is probably what overwhelms.

We are all short sighted people. We can’t see beyond our capacity. Whatever goes far away, disappears. What breaks us down is the leaving. The realization that time is about to exscind our strings, that tomorrow will make a memory out of us is what shatters us. The fact that soon the existence of a person would wither away in time makes it even more pathetic. That is the point where the threshold of ‘missing someone’ lies.

Goodbyes are reflections of sad realities, subsets of death. Death is a perennial goodbye. There are some adieus that weep like death. Albeit there is a possibility of a future encounter, these goodbyes reflect a certain death of a relationship.

We all have encountered a certain ‘so long’ that has never been able to complete its circle. But alas! that just draws our attention now. It used to be a priority in our thoughts. Now it is just a thing we think of, when in gloom.


Okay so I puked. For like real.

We went to an amusement park. Truth: I wasn’t amused. Others were. I really don’t understand how easily I give in. I regret it, ‘after’ doing it.

I am not into joy rides. I am not made for that. Not my department. All I remember doing that day, was screaming, at the top of my voice, like a girl. In my defense I would say, I faced it all like a brave man, only with frequent screams of horror.

I would always say no to begin with, and end up doing it just to give company to my little sisters. I didn’t want to disappoint them so I ended up disappointing myself instead. Boy it was all horror, staring back at me and he was like, “Yeah I was waiting for you. I’ll spoil your guts now. You shouldn’t have had breakfast dumbass. I’ll show you who the real boss is.” Meanwhile, I was like, “Mommmmmmmmmy!”

My brother kept telling me to try the boat. My sisters insisted. With constant blathering going on in the background, I involuntarily created an image of a real boat with oars and some water beneath to row on.

My inquisitiveness was duped big time, when I discovered it was a dragon-boat swinging like a pendulum, staring back at me. Images from the past started haunting me. I remembered that thing. I had been a passenger once, in that creature before. It didn’t end well. Then again, I was a kid then.

Anyways, with dilated eyes, I started reckoning my other options. However, I wish I shouldn’t have manifested any ventures.

This could’ve been the scenario:

I looked back at all the rides. They all were fallen. Vanquished. One of the roller coaster rides didn’t even stand a chance. It never saw me coming. I had lanced it before it picked its sword. Those toy cars had never met such a rash driver. They had never been drifted like that before. Some of the rides were puny enough for my minions to handle. I didn’t even look at them. They were dead already.

I beheld the dragon once again. This is the last one, I thought. “I can’t go home without taming YOU bitch. I have come too far to return. I am away from home. I don’t know if there would be any return. The battle might turn fiery and deadly. I wouldn’t abscond. I wouldn’t leave without slaying you.” I thought, “What the hell?”

I rode the dragon with all my might. The pressure was immense. All hell broke loose. Fire was everywhere. The last one is always the toughest, so I thought. I got bruised. The dragon fire blazed my neck. But my heart was still pumping. Adrenaline gushing. I was waiting for the right moment. Exhaustion engulfed the beast slowly. Eventually the dragon subdued. It was then when I struck like lightning and tore the creature open.

Interesting, huh? Too good to be true.

Here’s the non-fiction version:

One of the roller coaster rides had no attendees so we skipped it. (This explains the ‘never-saw-me-coming’ part :P) The car ride was okay. Nothing real. Some rides were so scary that I screamed at the mere sight of them. So I decided not to make a fool out of myself. I let my brother and sisters ride them instead (my minions). I was ‘compelled’ to sit in that demonic boat. My sisters literally pulled me into the heart of the dragon. I kept my eyes closed all the time. Opened my orbs once, when instigated. My head started spinning. As the boat was about to stop, I puked like a mad man. Not on people (Just relax!). The burning sensation in my neck lasted for hours. So it wasn’t a happy ending exactly.

Yeah! I am a wimp.