My World Has Shrunk

There was a time, when I loved reading newspapers.
There was a time, when I craved for heated debates.
There was a time, when I was fascinated with political discussions.
There was a time , when I enjoyed getting into intellectual arguments.

O honey, my world has shrunk.
I now love reading my baby's expressions.
I crave for his babbling when he sleeps.
I get fascinated with his never ending curiosity.
I enjoy our alien language sessions.

This little two feet chimp has turned my life upside down,
I can't complain and don't want to frown.
O honey , my world has shrunk,
And I am loving it even more.

The confused me

Over the last few months,
I wrote a lot of blogs.

Then discarded a few,
Hid some under the mat,
Bookmarked a couple and
Forgot about those left half written .

But when it came to posting even one,
I had my reasons for choosing none.

Either it was too personal
Or it lost the track.
I started to doubt each word,
And found the unseen cracks.

What have I done to myself,
As I pondered one fine day.

I see a new trait within me
And I don't like it at all.
It does not make me happy ,
I am confused a lot.

Am I craving for acceptance of my blogs,
Or just vary of expressing what I feel.
Somewhere along the journey,
The writer in me lost her zeal.

Dear me...help me find the lost part...
The happiness in writing
The complete blog...
The confused me is scratching her head...
Did I just write something sane
Or is it again mess?

Kamli

“Kamli” that’s what my nanu used to call me or calls me as my heart still refuses to accept that it will never happen again.

My nanaji , maternal grandfather or daddy as we call him,is/was one of the gentlest souls I have ever seen in my life. All he ever spread in his life is/was goodwill and blessings. It is because of the same that everyone who knew him smiles when they talk about him.

I have not been to his house since he left us, maybe that way a tiny part of my heart is keeping him alive for me. Maybe if I don’t go , he would call and say in his usual tone ‘ Kamli, kab aayegi?’ And I would give the same reply , “jaldi…dukh sukhh bantne.”

It’s not easy to accept that you will never call me again Daddy…

It’s not easy to accept that nobody will call me kamli again…

It’s not easy to accept that I will never see you again…

It’s not easy to accept that we will never see your innocent smiles…

It’s not easy to accept that you would never (fake)scold us for making ruckus at midnight..

In truth daddy it’s not easy to accept you are not there…

There will never be call when I would hear…”Kamli, kab aayegi?”

P.S – I went to his place …. Unable to accept he isn’t there…finally made some sort of peace with myself.

Though you will always be missed, though there always will be a place empty in the family photograph…but Daddy we will remember you with a smile because that’s what you gave all of us and keep in mind that you never held a grudge..so though I am upset with you for leaving us…no grudges…

Rest in Peace Daddy, your family is safe and blossoming in the blessings you send our way.

Kamli – an endearing way of calling a girl “slightly mad or carefree”.