Twenty two years and on........

Its odd really.... how somethings turn out. I mean, you would think, that this is how a certain relationship should work... but at the end of the day it hits you in the face.....

It would be so easy to play the blame game.... but Ive always kept from it. The way I see it, my expecations are not that huge.... I wish to be looked at, not as an equal, atleast as someone... anyone. I know I can be a child and a little difficult to deal with.... but when total strangers can go with that, even appreciate me for being that difficult... I really don see how that keeps you from ever getting to know me? I really like it that you think Im a kid... I really like it that you are protective an all... makes me feel special.... but its pathetic that you can use that as a shield.
It does not mean that everythin or any opinion I have is childish and not worth your attention.

But what amazes me is that I have not been able to make my peace with this issue after twenty two years.Its wierd, how after so many times Ive seen this happen.... I stilll expect... how every time you end up hurting me. I thought some changes in your life, others in mine, the gathering distance between us just might bring us a little close, atleast enough for you to realise that Im not the child I once was, that I am a woman and my feelings are as real as yours. But you've proved me wrong yet again.

Subramani.

He walked into my house, his feet trying to balance what seemed like the debris of one of nature's cruel games. He was all but a person of two feet and yet it occured to me that he was taller than the giants that have ever walked these grounds. Not a trace of fear, of uncertainity, even as his eyes darted in opposite directions.

A noise was all he could produce, and it was all he needed. He used the only syllabl familiar to him to shout, plead and laugh. His response was simple. A cry to acknowledge. A nod to disagree. Violent anger as an after math to being the victim of forcible taming of his spirit. A very occasional but extraordinarily beautiful smile. I was blessed to see one, everytime he watched the pack of cards tumble to the ground from the basket he held upturned.

He was no loser, I could tell. He faught, at everything said to him. He was punished, for his arrogance. or was it his innocence? He never told. or did he not know? The burn on his fingers, the scar on his leg? Was it bravery or was it his inability?

He was a child afterall. Hunger escapes noone. But the pity was, when he begins to ask, we never know, its always the same sound. How will you ever know his likes, his dislikes, if he is full or is still hungry if you are the one who decides his meals.

When you go about your life, sinking in floods of tears over what seemed like earth-shattering problems and you meet Subramani, you realise your life is so simple, but you run behind every detail with a magnifying glass searching for something which could be wrong. You create your own problems. Expectations. Responses. Achievements. Loss. Love. You think Subramani understands any of these?But the irony is, when you loose value for any of these, you and subramani are on the same level and you just might be able to understand him, help him even, but the world around you will begin to give you the one thing you probably dont need, pity.

It aches me to watch, no not Subramani. He was born this way. It aches me that people around me can carry on their shoulders worries about their appearance, worries about another flat, another car. Ill never have respect for your palatial homes, the dress you have been flaunting. Your wealth is worth sawdust to me if you have no heart to give. Your status is as good as invisible if you cant help subramani. Your brand is the number on the criminal board you carry around, if you cant feed, cloth or help bring another beautiful smile on subramani's face.

Ill wait again..

Here it comes, the first drop,
On my hand it comes to a stop,
There are millions more to come,
As they land, a rhythm they drum.

On the thirsty, parched ground,
Engulfed in a familiar incense,
Memories escape, dancing all around,
It’s my renaissance.

Thunders warn of the wars waged,
The gods above, they seem raged,
With a flash their swords are drawn,
It’s a weighing of their brawn.

The punished and weak fall,
It was always meant to be,
Truth and strength stand tall,
Bliss and beauty are set free,

The winds, the dead they sweep away,
The streams, the sins they wash today,
A tender green life, it is brand new,
Has found a friend, a drop of dew,

It’s a new beginning, a new start,
The sun shines in golden rays,
But this is still a world apart,And I will wait again for those rainy days.