My Life, My Death

I was sure that I was dreaming, yet I didn't want to believe it at first. It was dark all around except for a spot light, it was focused on a small baby. It was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen and I knew she was mine.

She was sitting on the floor and playing quietly; a strange, sweet game that only she understood. I looked at her and my heart ached with helpless affection. I stared adoringly at my baby. She played on and watched her with, caressing her sweet form with my eyes.

Suddenly, she looked up at me, as if some sudden sound had distracted her. That was when I saw her beautiful face, the face of an angel. Dark curly hair surrounded her tender, soft face; black enough to match her shining ebony eyes; lined with a thick line of kajal. She was wearing a soft pink frock which made her fair skin look as if it were the finest, softest, smoothest, sweetest material. Her rounded hands were so perfect that I wanted to touch and feel whether it was real. Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as her rosy lips pulled into a heart-wrenching, toothless smile. My heart melted. I felt tears of joy crowding my eyes and I wiped them away to reveal a smile too.

She seemed delighted and started making sweet cooing noises to make me happy. I was so happy that I thought my heart would burst. I could see God through her gentle body. I was oblivious of everything and I wanted to be this way forever.

Then, something happened. My baby looked behind her with scared, foreboding eyes.When she looked at me again, her lower lip was trembling, her eyes had lost the sparkle and looked sad, she longingly stretched out both her fair arms towards me. My heart was suddenly very sad. I wanted to hold her and remove whatever was paining her. I wanted to give her all my warmth, all my love and comfort. I too stretched my hands out towards her, to lift her carefully into my arms.

All of a sudden there was light everywhere to my surprise, I was in a room full of mirrors. Every mirror reflected my baby crying and reaching out to me. I was in a state to panic as ran to image after image to find myself hitting painfully against the shining glass. The sound of my baby's cry, full of agony, tore my heart into bits and I was ready to do anything to restore that smile on her face. I was running like crazy, from mirror to mirror. A scream built up inside me and I clenched my eyelids close and screamed out loud and fell to floor.

When I opened my eyes I was lying on a fluffy soft bed and the sound of soft breathing filled my ears. I turned to my side and saw my baby asleep next to me. I sighed with relief, rubbed my face against her soft smooth stomach, I felt her small chest heave as she breathed slowly. She looked ever so peaceful. My lips found her forehead and kissed her deeply. She stirred slowly, in her sleep and held me close to her. Again I was at perfect bliss. I enjoyed the warmth of her perfect body as I held her close and I knew nothing more of the world.

With a sudden jerk, two strong pair of hands pulled my baby away from my arms. I stared i disbelief as she disappeared into the darkness. I fell, empty and lonely onto the side were she was lying and I didn't want to live anymore, this world meant nothing to me.

~~~~Little Baby~~~~

He lifted up the baby and placed it on my lap. His face was radiant as he saw the baby in my arms. I looked down at small naked infant cradling close to me and I completely lost myself. It must have several minutes that the baby and I gazed at each others face. We both looked upon the other with a feeling of wonder.

My eyes slowly traced the baby's face, its small hands and feet. Then my eyes locked with his. That was moment I will never forget in my entire life. I felt, the baby and I somehow knew each other. There was a clear look of recognition in his wide open eyes. Through those eyes I first saw pure innocence, pure vulnerability. He seemed to call out to me for love and protection, he seemed to appeal to me in every sweet way to provide him warmth. It felt as if this adorable little thing in my arms was a tight little bag of the sweetest emotions, maybe some which were unknown to me.

There was sudden urge inside me to protect him, to keep him so close to me that no one could even touch him. After all he was mine. He was looking to me for love and protection in this new world. I wanted to preserve his little heart full of sweet emotions forever. I wanted those eyes to look up at me like that forever. I wanted to him to call out to me silently for love, just like this. Also, I wanted to give him the love he needed, that he didn't even know that he needed. Thinking all this, I held him close to my heart and closed my eyes.
Suddenly someone took him from my arms. I gasped as emptiness closed around me like deep, dense darkness. I looked helplessly as she carried the baby to his bed. I wanted to scream out loud, "He needs me, please, give back to me! He will be cold without me, he will be scared and lonely". I was suddenly morose.

Then a realization came upon me. God has sent this baby to this world and not to me alone. Thinking that, I was filled with peace and I sank into a deep, comfortable sleep.

Love?

You and I stood,

The wind in our faces,

Our hearts beating in anticipation.

Then slowly you spoke the words,

"I love you. Do you love me?", you said.

I stared back in pain

At your face full of hope, excitement,

I smiled, my eyes sad,

But you did not notice.

Love- such a big word!

I wanted to scream, "No!",

Love is pain, too much pain,

Love is too much fear, of loss,

Love is too much joy,

Love blinds you, maims you,

Love makes you suffer.

Yet, you say the words,

They sound so simple, so real,

I set my experienced eyes on your face,

One day you too will be like me,

Torn apart, cynical, skeptical about life,

You, so young and radiant, deserve no pain,

So, I just look at you and smile,

My eyes sad, unable to reply.

Dormant

I can hear her banging frantically on the door

Her nails are scrapping against the old wood

The sound makes me uncomfortable

I can feel her pain...I want to let her out

But I don't know where the key is

She begs me to blow the door open

It will thrill her to see the door broken

The sudden sound will awaken her

It will send adrenalin through her

She will be alive again

As I watch her, I turn restless too

I slowly lose belief in this life

Every day is the same as the other

I want to feel the thrill, the adrenaline in my veins

I want to taste danger when its raw

I want to free my soul from that room

As of now its dormant...Waiting to erupt

Leave Out All The Rest

I dreamed I was missing
You were so scared
But no one would listen
Cause no one else cared

After my dreaming
I woke with this fear
What am I leaving
When I'm done here

So if you're asking me
I want you to know

When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

And don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory

Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest

Don't be afraid
I've taken my beating
I've shared what I made

I'm strong on the surface
Not all the way through
I've never been perfect
But neither have you

So if you're asking me
I want you to know

When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory

Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest

Forgetting
All the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well

Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are

When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory

Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest

Forgetting
All the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well

Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are
I can't be who you are
____________________________

This a song by a band called 'Linkin Park'. Whenever I hear this song it brings tears to my eyes. Nandini, it reminds me of your father.

The Perfect Man

I am often faced with the question, how do you know if a man is the correct match for you or not? I don't have an answer because I believe that requirements are different for different people but I can give you my idea.

These are the qualities of my perfect man:

1. He makes me feel special for no reason at all, he listens to all my worried scoldings
2. I like the smell of hair and skin, I can smell him long after we have met
3. He worries about the littlest things about me
4. I feel tremendously guilty to eat when he has not eaten
5. It scares me to think about spending a day without him
6. The sound of his voice calms me down
7. His arms fill me with a sense of impenetrable protection
8. The thought of his death pains me to tears
9. The touch of his hand gives me the confidence that I never imagined that I would have
10. Rain makes me think of him, sun makes me think of him, snow makes me think of him
11. When I am sick he is worried all day, when he is sick I feel panicked and lost
12. Whenever I go before God, I can only pray for him
13. I run to him for the littlest of things
14. When I write his name, I smile unconsciously to myself
15. I can feel him even when he is not there
16. I laugh with childish pleasure when he is at work, to see how important he looks
17. When he paints, I watch speechlessly
18. He is my little baby who needs endless care and comfort
19. All my childish sorrows, fears and pains can be expressed to him
20. I can cry in his arms freely
21. I can hurt him easily, I can make him happy easily
22. His wishes mean the most on occasions
23. We are both children in each others presence
24. I remember his face before going to sleep and as soon as I wake up

25. We have named our children already- one of them is Nandini

Most important requirement is to be happy and to be at peace with your man. I am, so he must be perfect. Nandini, he is your father. When I am not there, love him like I did, if you can...

Water and I

My parents named me Jahnavi... I have heard that my mom and dad coincidentally came up with the same name for me. Somehow it was assumed that a daughter will be born and not a son. My mom's family wanted the child to be named after a river. She did not want to name me Ganga or Teesta, so she named me Jahnavi- another name for Ganga. My dad on the other hand recites the Durga Shatanam from which he came up with this name somehow. Till this day, they fight with each other regarding who was first to decide my name. Of course they are sweet fights.

Ganga flowed through the heavens with a mighty force. It flowed fiercely down to earth when Bhagiratha the king ordered it. Once it flowed close to the Jahnu, the sage's meditation place. Scared of the mighty river's destructive power, he gulped down the waters to save the earth. After some pleading from Bhagiratha, he released it once again from a slit in his knee. Since then Ganga is known as Jahnavi meaning 'of Jahnu'. Along with the myth behind it, it also has a deep mystical quality. The name in itself is a mixture passion and mystery. The 'h' in Jahnavi gives it a strange weight.

As a young girl I realised that I had a connection with water. According to Astrology, coincidentally my element was water. I used to no doubt love the sea and the river-side. I also realised that whenever I was in the depths of despair or was unable to take a decision, I would by quirk of fate end up by the sea or river-side. This gave me a strange sense of connection with water.

My first strong experience was when my grandfather passed away. In spite of everyone telling me not to, I went to the crematorium and subsequently to the banks of the Ganga to throw the ashes. When I went there and I stood, looking at the river flowing continuously, I felt as if my increasing sorrow was flowing with those endless waters. I felt as if Ganga was sharing my emotional burden. Till today, I feel the sorrow of my Dada's death flow out of me in form of tears whenever I imagine myself standing before the flowing waters of the Ganga.

Next memorable experience was before your father and entered into a relationship. I left for Benarus to spend five difficult days. One of those days I was walking next to the Ganga and squinting in the blazing sun. I watched the priests perform the aarti as a praise to the river. I felt my heavy heart in my chest. I could not decide what to do. Straight after that I went to the temple where I heard a voice telling me that if I wanted peace, I could only find in your father's arms. I was overjoyed and came back excitedly to tell your father and we entered into the relationship.

Once again I was invited to Sunderbans. We were on a ship. On that ship I thought of my first production, on Draupadi. I even understood that the root of all problems between me and your father was because of my lack of acceptance.

My last and most recent experience was in Puri. I was frustrated and tense about my college admissions and about the fact that your father was very angry with me. So I went by
the sea and relieved my emotional burden. When I came back it was easier to bear.

Nandini...your father and I get along so well because his element is air...it dissolves in water.

The Card

I turned 18 on 10th November 2008 and I was excited to see what your father would give me. I was especially excited to see the card he would give me and I knew he would give me one. I was late in meeting him and at the end of the meeting, when it was time to go, he finally said, "I've got a card for you".

Excitedly, I accepted the yellow envelope which had 'Prastuti' written on it, probably the name of the company that made the card. Prastuti means preparation and little did I know that I should have been mentally prepared enough to see the card. I hurriedly slid the card out of the envelope to see a black cover with a beautiful red rose on it. There were a few lines written in Bengali. Before I could read it, it was time to leave. I quickly hid the card. As soon as I reached home, I ran to my room, locked the doors and took out the card slowly. My heart was beating too hard and I was smiling from ear to ear. I ran my hand over the smooth black cover, I could almost feel the soft, wet petals of the dew covered rose. I read the lines on the cover and was swept of my feet. The lines were beautiful, more so because it perfectly described your father. The four lines conveyed his love, his inability to express his love and also that his love had no reason behind it. I was nearly in tears. I opened the card to find it yellow inside with an outlined picture of a man and a woman lying on the ground and facing each other. Your father had left the card blank. There was nothing written inside, not even our names.

I was euphoric, nevertheless. I called to thank him. Repeatedly, I read the card and it meant a lot more to me every time. I complained about the fact that he had not written anything inside. He said he would so I returned the card.

The card was just not being returned to me. He was taking ages to write in it. I wanted my card back and I kept on reminding him to write in it and return it. When two weeks had passed and there was still no sign of my card being returned, I fought with him and I cried. Still there was no sign of returning the card. I pouted and said that I wouldn't take it back even if he gave it to me. At last one day, he returned it with two lines written on it. He wrote that he never thought that anyone would ever come so close to him and love him, and that he wished that would give me happiness and peace. I pretended to be happy but I was not. I was expecting a more romantic and a longer peace of writing. I was quite annoyed that he took so long to return it to me. I began to feel that he had no feelings for me.

Slowly, the card issue was forgotten between us and we both moved on. I would often read the card and every time it meant more and more to me. I began to understand why he had written so little. He had so much feeling within him that he could not put it in words, easily. That was why he took so much time to return it and wrote so little. He selected this card among so many because he found this card to be voice to his love. I was in love with this card. I would often read it cheer myself up in the difficult conditions. Whenever I felt that your father did not love me, I would read the card and reassure myself of his love. Whenever I read it I would be filled with affection for him.

One day, we were talking about various love letters I had received from other boys. Your father wanted me to throw them away for some reason. I could not understand the reason but I did as he said. When I told him that I had thrown the love letters, he jokingly said, "When will my card be thrown into the dustbin?"

I was agitated and said, "Never! I will show it to my children, grandchildren and so on! How can you ever think of such a thing?"

He said, "That's good."

One day, he was rude to me, he told me he had no time for me, he told me cannot continue the relationship. I was angry and heartbroken. I craved for his sweet self. In a moment of anger and frustration and pain, I threw the card back at him and refused to take it back. I was supposed to leave Kolkata and go for a holiday. Angry and hurt, I told him to throw away the card. While I was away he actually did. I came back and asked for the card. He was silent. After a while he said that he would return it.

Surprised at his tone of voice, I asked him what was the matter, he told me something that shattered all my happiness. He told me that he had destroyed my card while I was away. Tears came into my eyes and I refused to believed it. I suddenly remembered how I had failed to keep my word, how I had failed to keep the card safe. I felt terrible, I felt depressed and lost, I felt like hearing that what he said was not true and that there was some way to retrieve the card. Seeing me depressed, he said he would give me another card. I felt a bit of relief.

The next day he was angry and refused to give me another card. He said he wanted to test my patience so he would not give me another card so soon. I cried and pleaded but he did not agree. Suddenly, I felt like a beggar. I felt that I should just stop. He had never given me anything anyway and I did not want to beg and retrieve something that he would give me without any feeling.

Days are passing now and I only wish that he would not give me the card after all. I will never accept anything that he will give me. At that moment I asked for the card because I was badly hurt and I wanted to heal my wound. Now the wound deepens everyday. Now a feeling creeps into my heart, one which tells me that there wont be much feeling behind the new card. Now I imagine, how it must have hurt him to throw away the card. It must have felt as if he was tearing out his heart and throwing it away.

Nandini, my lesson to you is if you have hurt someone, don't let the wound deepen. Try to heal it as fast as possible. Your father does not understand how many wounds of his I have healed before it got worse. He refused to heal just one wound of mine. Forgive him, for he knows not what he does...

His Love

His love was not fiery like mine, but calm and patient.
His love was peaceful, his love was serene.
His love was not crazy like mine, but rational.
His love was mature, his love was kind.
His love was caring, nurturing , protecting...gently.
His love was meaningful, his love was lonely.
His love was about understanding, about respect.
His love was about sweetness, peace and adjustment.
His love was full of warmth and comfort.
His love was full of gratitude.
His love was without any expectation.
His love was without any yearning
His love was one where I could go back at the end of everything.
His love was what would nourish me back to life.
His love had a bit of sadness in an ocean of happiness.
His love was one I could not repay.
His love was one that I never really understood.
His love was my abode...

Nandini...He was your father...he was the cause of my fiery love.

Nandini

Nandini is my daughter...born of my fiery love,
She is a part of me, a proof of my heartfelt desires,
She is not born yet but i see her...I feel her inside
She's not a God or an Angel...she's just a bit of me.

Nandini loves me and that's why she is always with me,
I don't know when I will actually see her,
But she is comes to me in my dreams,
When I am lost and heartbroken,
She comes to give me a reason to live.

Nandini first came to me one night,
She was a beautiful toddler,
She had rounded soft arms and red lips,
She was fair with curly brown hair...
She was a pleasure to hold in my arms,
Naughty, excited, young and full of purity...
My own Nandini...

She came to me again one night,
All grown up, very attractive,
With long hair platted tightly,
Sitting on a windowsill, hugging her knees.

The last time she came to me,
She was a young child,
She climbed onto my lap and looked into my eyes,
My sad old eyes stared into her ignorant pure ones,

My love says that I wish for her to come,
I feel that she is already here with me...
My Nandini, my daughter,
Born of my fiery love...

Nandini, these writings are for you,
I don't know what I can give you,
In this cruel world...I offer you my mind,
So these are my writings...To Nandini