Monday, August 30, 2010

Giving roots to my dreams


I sat idling around on a Sunday and browsing through channels when I stopped on the umpteenth telecast of Baghban on one of the channels. And because I was interested in watching the next movie, I tried to be patient and tolerate the last scene of Baghban....I mean...it couldn't really hurt could it? And then Amitabh Bachan started speaking...How life is like a tree and parents are the roots, that hold you steady and nurture you for life. I would like to improvise a little.
Parents are not only the root....they are the entire tree. Holding you steady as you move forward in life, the strong trunk that ensures you to relax and rest your head on them, and the gentle shade of the leaves that save you from the harsh sun and the merciless rain. And after my mother died...I felt like the fruit that had been snatched from its tree and thrown in the wilderness. I felt the harsh sun for the first time, felt how horrible rains can be...without their love and protection, the world was an ugly place to be. With time I was thrown from boulder to boulder, was pushed on by the torrents of time and I just flowed with it. It was harsh...and it is tough trying to survive on your own. And then...I looked at my son, playing animatedly with his toys and my nephew trying to attract his attention and I realized that the Circle of Life was just beginning anew. It was time for me to rest and grow my own roots. I have to be there for them now...I have to be the strength they would need when they stumble, I have to protect them from sun and rain and all the things hostile, I have to nurture them and be there for them.

It's time I gave roots to my little angel...so that he can grow up feeling the love I have been so lucky to have had. And God willing...I shall do that!

Sunday, August 15, 2010

I still remember............

I still remember the days gone by...15th August.......remember waking up to find my father watching the news...to be precise The PM's speech, the relaxed breakfast, the kite flying frenzy, the sulking and fighting with bhaiya...insane loud music and high energies...the laughter of childhood...pure and content. I still remember.

It is aptly said that the sweetest songs are those that remind you of saddest thoughts...something my father often quoted. I still remember him quoting Wordsworth, Keats and so many more and I never realized where did I get my love for literature! It's all gone now...only memories reside...memories of a beautiful childhood, a time when I slept knowing that I would be woken up with a warm smile. Memories of strong steady and warm hands that would engulf the shivering tiny hands and warm up the coldest decembers...

8 years ago on this day at around this time I was sitting with my father as he watched Border for the umpteenth time. 8 years ago I didn't know that he was to be with me for only another week...

It's just not the same without him...