I Am My Relations

I am my relations

I come from
My burdens
My obligations
My responsibilities
And identities
That cage me

I come from
My desires
My needs
My aspirations
And incompletions
That fail me

I come from
My connections
And disconnections too

I come from
In me
Within me
Out me
And Other me

I come
From
The womb
The blood
And the soul
That embody me

I come from
The name
Of the family
And the caste
That birthed me

I come from
My neighbourhood
The smells and sights
The senses and noises
That shaped me

I come from
My work
My titles
My power
And the seats
That feed my ego

I come from
The streets of my childhood
The memories of my past
The food that I feed
And the body that I call mine

I come from
The grass
The flowers
And thorns
That nurture me

I, we, us
Aren't we one
Us, we, I
We are one

In oneness,
I am enough

The Patriarch - 2

He lost his dad at 13
A man he became
for his mother
and sisters
taking decisions
for their well-being
and future.

Working two jobs
He learnt the ways
of the world.

The role of the man
as provider
and protector
a role
that wasn't meant to be.

They looked upto him
for choices and decisions
when he didn't know better.

It was not about being right
but about taking the decision.

he got some right
and most wrong
Yet, it was he
who had to make them.

Marriage meant
more decisions
for an ever growing family

He setup a trade
with borrowed money
a risk
Yet, hopeful
for a change of tide.

His confidence came
from making decisions
even when they were
patriarchal.

A word
he didn't know
a life he lived
day on day.

He worked hard
knowing
he was the provider
food, clothes, et al
holding back
his desires
along the way.

Maybe someday
I will travel the world
for now
I need to save up
for college
for two aspiring offspring
who have dreams of their own.

Nothing but the best for my children
be it food, clothes or education
He was driven
by love or
was it expectation?

A rickety scooter
for most of his life
the same barber
the same tailor
My needs are but small
he convinced himself.

A car he bought once
for his growing family
much criticism
he endured
for being wasteful
and extravagant.

He missed
many a occasion
birthdays
and graduation
many a first
for his adorable lot
when he toiled
in the dusty folds
of an unforgiving trade.

He showed concern
for their choices
clothes they wore
parties they attended
friends they welcomed
life they chose
criticized he was
'what do you know'

He didn't...
The world was changing
his struggle was real
poverty
war
emergency
the changing governments
many an ideology
he had survived it all.

If just he could convey
how much he cared
having never learnt
how to say
how much he loved.

Silence and anger
were his two shields
his only way to
show he cared.

He kept to himself
isolated
yearning
for even in their
rejection
he was still the
provider and protector.

Head down
he worked his day
14 hours
for 61 years.

His time
meant dreams
for his loved ones.

Alone
in his toil
yet never
repentant.

His children
branded him
aloof
and unavailable
old-school
and an embarrassment
for his lack
of sophistication
in clothes and language.

In time,
they left him
to pursue their dreams
create their own worlds
make their own life
where he didn't belong.

In the twilight of his life
He sits on his armchair
drool escaping his lips
awaiting in conscious sleep
A patriarch
who wasn't.

On Belonging

I don't like it here

Not the chaos

Not the noise

See, right here,

Noise everywhere

Where is the space

for silence

Back home

I sit on my land

and for as far as I can see

I feel silence

I don't like it here

People don't talk

They have no time

to say hello

to smile

Back home

everyone smiles

we say hello

We walk through our village

and we connect with people

We share our stories

and listen some more

I don't like it here

The food tastes funny

and the veggies are stale

I know it

I am a farmer

Back home

I grow my veggies and rice

and catch fresh fish

from the stream

See, how healthy I am

Fresh food

cooked with love

eaten with family

I don't like it here

It makes me forget home

and its smells

Nothing familiar here

somedays

I am a stranger to myself

Back home

I know me

A year and two more

I will back home soon

to my family

to my food

to my farm

and to my silence

Sigh! Soon!

Voice of our security guard at office who is from a village in Karimganj district, Assam

Dread Going Back

Dread, I do, Going back

for more reasons than one.

Here, anonymous

a nobody!

Back home,

somebody's dream

somebody's expectations

somebody's boss

somebody's ex-love

Dread, I do, going back

to the same morning

the same day

the same responsibilities

the same burdens

Dread, I do, going back

to being a boss

a manager

a torch-bearer 
of a thousand expectations

Dread, I do, going back

to being a son

a friend

a man of the world again

Dread, I do, going back

to the days
of memories
of familiar streets
of familiar people
of familiar love
longing in its want.

Dread, I do, going back

knowing fully well

she will not await me

neither will she be around

to share my life with me

Dread, I do, going back

to not loving.
wishing it
desperately
not allowing.

Dread, I do, going back 

to who I am!

Stay here, I wish

a stranger
a nobody.

~ 25th July 2010.

These are posts I wrote on a tissue sitting at a local bar in Prague in January 2010. 

Home By A River

I stayed at a home 
by a river
A home it is, 
built with love, care and happiness
hardwork, toil and a dream
by a man whom I have come to admire
in the last few days, I met him.

It took him decades of hardwork 
and many a sacrifice
to find a dream and make it a home
It overlooks a river day and night
and every second in-between
and speaks volumes of 
the beauty that earth is
and what man can do
when he respects and values
our abode as it should be.

I have spent every morning
in silence and awe 
of the beauty of nature
that surrounds this home
gladdening my heart 
and making me smile.

I could have sat for hours more
just in silence
watching glorious nature
unfold outside
this gorgeous home.

I have spent many an evening
in reflective happiness
as I have watched the moon
play with the river
and wash the home
with its wondrous light.

The home, this home
has a wondrous energy
calmed me and my nervous nerves
as I sought to take a break 
from life's many burdens.

Thank you Babla Uncle
for building this dream
and for your generous
heart to share this home
with friends and friends of friends
Your generosity has given me
memories for life
of a home by the riverside
and the inspiration
of man who has a dream. 

~ 24th October 2010

Thank You!
For sharing your home with me these past few days! It has meant a world to me. Thank you Ishita for bringing me here and introducing me to Babla Uncle. He is a remarkable human being.