"And in the end, people leave. Just like that. Because that's who they are." He said with a voice calmer and deeper than the ocean. I heard these very words reverberating in my head. I was in the midst of watching my life fall apart, the crashes and bangs, all the little pieces I put up with such care just lying there in the rubble. I stood there, in the storm on a rainy december evening. I stood there for what felt like an eternity, just hearing those words over and over again, like some cursed mantra or incantation. But his eyes were empty, empty like a human soul, empty like dried up river, empty like the endless void. Such a deadly silence, but where are these screams coming from? No one spoke anything. The Universe held its breath for a moment but the ear-splitting screams didn't stop. Such horrible sound, the sound of a broken heart, a eulogy of a tired soul maybe. I searched deep inside my worn out heart and there it was, a wounded Bluebird crying and screaming at the top of its lungs. Bleeding out, taking its last breath, singing the song of the miseries it felt and experienced. And then the Bluebird died and I buried it in the graveyard that my heart has become. You see that's ironical because it wasn't always like this. It was a happy place where that Bluebird chirped merrily, away from the sorrows of adulhood and heartbreaks that come with it. It was a mystical place for fairies and angels, a sacred home. With rainbows and flowers and fragrances now turned into some hauntingly ugly dead place that doesn't know what love is. And when I got tired of crying river of tears, I got up and started building up my world from scratch, picking up the pieces and holding them together. I'm now making my defences stronger, a stone-wall to never let anybody in, never.My little world, it's still a mess but an imperfectly beautiful mess, a mess that I own, a mess I can take care of. That december evening taught me a lot of things. It taught me that sometimes human eyes are more cold than the chilly rains of winter, that you can destry someone by mere movements of your lips and that you can still survive. But even after all this time, I can still hear the Bluebird whispering: "Right people don't leave you alone stranded on deserted land only to watch you die."
Dead. Lifeless. Everything was still. Miles and miles of empty barren spaces in front of me and I was agitated by this sudden urge to create beauty from chaos, to crave meaning from the absurd, to comprehend order from this disorderly world. But there it was, the graveyard of hopes in between the wilderness; dormant, silent. I started digging the graves one after the other. Rotten, ugly black matter but still alive somehow after all these centuries of disbelief and mania. That's when I knew what happens to abandoned hopes and dreams, to broken promises, to shattered faith. Even when no one is left to pursue the goodness in universe, even when every wee attempt of having faith is repressed, hopes and dreams still manage to survive.
"Never trust Winters they are Born Cold" Maa used to say this with a black shawl wrapped around her shoulders and a Sleak green scarf covering her grey hair with few strands peeking through the warmth.Winters were my favourite but her words always left me with multiple questions running within my tiny brain.Rubbing that cucumber lotion around my tiny arms and my pink feet she used to say "They'll turn you cold once you'll embrace them -Winters will kill you and give you a silent death" and my frowns never settles on her face but they see how her parched lips are moving trying to find what pain they are holding?? Winters never answered my questions and the late night cinnamon tea dates between maa and me dissolved into our conversations of how dad looked like when young?Of how he used to wrap maa in his shawl when winters shivered with love.She said this many times that i am mini version of the man she loved - Baba.
"Summers will turn you into a warm person and will cure your emptiness and aloofness" She used to whisper this while rubbing the coconut oil into the scalp generating warmth within the hair strands.I used to sleep while she narrates me a different story everytime of How baba and she used to go for a walk every summer night holding there hands,Of how they used to have cinnamon tea dates just like me and maa.Of how baba used to tie beautiful flowers into her ponytail,Of how he used to cook her favourite food.You can see the love in her eyes.They never lied atleast not to me.Whether she tells me or not i always knew how much she loved baba.She still have baba"s favourite saree neatly wrapped in her cupboard away from everyone's eyes.The pictures he clicked of when i was a toddler, Of mom smiling and hiding behind the curtain and of 3 of us.She was right -I look like baba.
I realised why she used to say winters are born cold -"Baba left us in mid december in between the cold snowy houses and -5 degrees temperature with me being in maa's arms wrapped up in warm blanket -He left maa alone in that cold - How can he?? Or how can maa let him - But I realise Death decides our fate.She too left me in between -8 degrees temperature alone, alone.I was with mom but she left me to mend for myself alone in this world of wolves - She did the same thing !!
- I realised why she said summers will take away your aloofness and emptiness -I was born in summer.I am waiting for the emptiness around me to leave me soon -" Either you come back maa or ask baba to come back" No summer can give me the peace that you both have taken away with you.!!!
- I am trying to breathe maa but without your shawl wrapped around me or your stories I can't"