I Am A Man

I am a man

In my uncertainties and my doubts

I grow in letting go and a little to hold on

I carry a sensitive self in my proud

I am a man, a brother

A lot to give and a little to get

A childhood friend forever around

To give compassion and dare the dread

I am a man, a son

A sheltered prince and a devout servant

Make proud carrier, failing often

A sacrificer of dreams on every bend

I am a man, a father and a husband

Working hard and burning self 

A hero, a loser, a saviour, a shelter

Growing old like my father carrying still debts

I am a man, a friend

A 3 am assistance and never tremble rubble

A family beyond family and a silent lover

A shade on the path of struggle

I am a man, a suspension

Who takes every load, every shock up front

Who stands when all falls and holds you still

Who cries but alone and smiles above

I am a man, every man that you see

Who saves everyone from storm-spree

Who gives and gets little, like a tree

Unmoving, proud, strong and free

I am a man

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Light of hope

Talking to someone about all the hawkers who have disappeared from the scenes of the cities in the urbanisation of our world brought back a certain memory of something which used to be the muse of my little heart when I was of the size of a little bonsai. Here where internet has taken over my grasp of books, I could find utmost comfort of almost having everything just a touch away. Whether it be reading a book {I don’t mind reading in PDF(Le Petit Prince that I read twice, and the only book that I read twice, in PDF format only.)}, Working out(I have my own training app, bye-bye gym), running(Pokémon Go), or to say preparing for a competition etc., Everything could be found on the small touch screen, using Internet. I realised how distant I have become from my childhood memories that I depend on Facebook memes to tell me what 90s’ kids used to have and do.

The only thing that hasn’t changed in all these years is my home(pretty much) and that Chaukhat(lintel) and Paikariya(staircase) on which I used to sit when I was a child and wait for that little white light to appear in that dark street. Devoid of lights, as the power cuts were so much fun those times, and any human being, as small towns used to go silent by the sundown, the streets used to be so silent that one could hear the footsteps from the other lanes. I was afraid of the ghosts lurking and thieves wandering in the dark yet I would sit outside on the Chaukhat and wait for that melodious sound of the Ghanti(bell) of the Ghazak Bechne Wala(Hawker who used to sell my favourite sweet Ghazak) to fall upon my ears.

As I would get excited I would call out for my mom and ask her to give me money, I can’t recall the cost of one Ghazak, it was one or two Rupees I guess, and my siblings would come rushing. There would be this lamp in our drawing room; it was so enchanting to sit around it and play, study and talk with my family. We would see a little white light of a slightly varrying lamp in the street, it was not bright enough to make clear what was carrying it, and the sound of Ghanti would ring again and again and muse my heart. Sooner he would be in front of our home and we will buy Ghazak from him. There would be that long beam of timber on his shoulder and on the either sides of it there were hanging two platters, like a scale. On the upfront platter there used to be Ghazak and in the middle of it the lamp and on the back side of it he would keep his stock. We would buy the Ghazak from him and then he would be on his way to sell some more. We would see the light disappear on the bend, leaving the street dark again, and then the melody of Ghanti would seize slowly .

Being a kid I never thought of the hardships that Hawker might had to face while he was earning his bread, like out there might be thieves I was so afraid of, and he might come across ghosts in some darker street. And then there were seasons, in winters he must be freezing and in rains how hard it would have been to earn two times’ bread.

And then inverters happened and every street turned luminous even in the nights and I don’t know when in the gradual urbanisation that Hawker disappeared. It hit me today with a bittersweet muse that I never noticed when my sweet light disappeared from the street and now it is just a distant memory. I don’t know how many of them were out there but those days are gone now and saying this makes me feel older.

It is funny how things disappear and no one notices. And it is ironical how we never realised the pain of those hawkers when their means of bread was being lost in the urbanisation and now Ghazak is found nowhere and how that their little light of hope slowly vanished.

Waiting On Me 

I stand by the night
For the times we had fights
To keep us from the cold and hunger

I remember when I hurt you
You hid under the bed
And now somethin in me is dead
For what I did all the time
And I could never change it back.

You loved and taught me
Kept me, haunting
For the debt that I owe
And never paying back.

I remember the times
When you worked like chimes
And made my world blossom
With the sound of yours.

Now it all is uneven
And I couldn’t believe in
What’s left of you and what’s not
Left of my loving you.

For the time when you died
You looked deep in my eyes
Maybe you fought to survive
And I couldn’t help you.

And now when I look at the bed
I am half torn to death
That left my hand stained
In your breaking breaths.

And when I knew you were gone
I knew no right and no wrong
I cried and not cried
I still feel the pain.

Now these clouds they fall
And the thunder that calls
In the nights so alone
I am waiting on to you.

The love that I lost
Is half life that it costs
And I wait on you to come
When I know I gave you to river.

It haunts me still
Your mouth open and still
As you went with the flow
And I never turned back.

I will pay the debt
One day when I will rest
And maybe I’ll find you
Waiting on me…

An Unending Race

I walked into a mosque one fine day

And lifted my hands up for the pray

And ask the gods to show up for once

I longed to stop from maddening runs

I walked into a church there then after

And lit a candle for mother Mary’s laughter 

‘Amen’ show me a path to the peace

I prayed for hours on my weak knees

I went to gurdwara, I went to temple

I asked for love and asked for hope

And when the bells rung hard and loud

I walked to burial in my thoughts’ crowd

I saw the peace, it’s just a myth

I found the love in deepest of the grief

And there was a lost hope in teary eyes

Away from longing and the worldly lies

I walked to a school to find the light

I worshipped the books day and night

Morales they taught were to gain a place 

Truth came tearing right at my face

I moved from there to an oldage home

To find the heart somewhere in my roam

I saw the hiding grief in teething smiles

I found my heart imbecile and vile

I walked to the wild, I walked to the sea

I walked to mountains and lands of the free

I found no meaning, I found no truth

I searched everywhere, every corner and nook

When I walked to my death and saw the end

Life was an illusion on the seeking bend 

As my energy flew through earth and the space

That’s when I knew it’s an unending race