The final chapter of the journey, ends at the first whole completed year after ami's passing.
I added the final leaf from year 2015's first post, a tribute to grieving mothers of the Dec, 16th, 2014 Incident in Peshawar (when the terrorists took over a school and went on a rampage, killing 145 people, including 132 students).
Because I can not even yet begin to understand the extent of their grief , their loss, I can only proffer of what I understand of death and longing...
Because only in acceptance in the truth and reality of death, can we find any meaning and peace to go on. For all deaths are violent, and all losses irreplaceable.
In the end all I want to say is that I wish peace and love to all of us grieving, I send strenght to all of us still imprisoned by the burden of inconsable grief.
I added the final leaf from year 2015's first post, a tribute to grieving mothers of the Dec, 16th, 2014 Incident in Peshawar (when the terrorists took over a school and went on a rampage, killing 145 people, including 132 students).
Because I can not even yet begin to understand the extent of their grief , their loss, I can only proffer of what I understand of death and longing...
Because only in acceptance in the truth and reality of death, can we find any meaning and peace to go on. For all deaths are violent, and all losses irreplaceable.
In the end all I want to say is that I wish peace and love to all of us grieving, I send strenght to all of us still imprisoned by the burden of inconsable grief.
1. Post- Sunday Doodle Blues Post# There is an eden within all of us.
Look at you,
revelling in a thousand songs your of dreams.
Like a queen counting all the stars visible in the summer sky...
queen of hearts - you have as many leaves, as hearts in your collection,
as many wings of butterflies as many words in your poem.
All those lovers who have come before now…
left like a summers breeze.
Sometimes when you live in the edges,
is where you meet your other side.
...in a rapturous jungle of wilderness bigger than your imagination,
where time stills, and a moment never past in time - is frozen to a perpetual summer's day
... every bird song echoes - tuning in, reverberating to your existence.
You are getting echo-located by your own dreams smile emoticon
Your body becomes a temple for you soul,
You will not be hurt….
Comes sweet breathlessness,
but,
each breath you take is intoxicating,
each breath you exhale - - - your heart is bigger…
There is not time enough for miracles
On the peripheries - the air is fragrant -
heady with the seduction of infusions,
ripe with wet wild flowers, swollen honeybees,
juicy fruits,
damp pine cones,
cool dewy leaves,
little showers of bursting pollen…
How did you forget where you came from?
How did you lose to this sanctuary of your soul?
How can you destroy this garden in your mind.
Why were you so afraid to walk to the other side,
to the very edge
to meet your self again?
Look at you,
revelling in a thousand songs your of dreams.
Like a queen counting all the stars visible in the summer sky...
queen of hearts - you have as many leaves, as hearts in your collection,
as many wings of butterflies as many words in your poem.
All those lovers who have come before now…
left like a summers breeze.
Sometimes when you live in the edges,
is where you meet your other side.
...in a rapturous jungle of wilderness bigger than your imagination,
where time stills, and a moment never past in time - is frozen to a perpetual summer's day
... every bird song echoes - tuning in, reverberating to your existence.
You are getting echo-located by your own dreams smile emoticon
Your body becomes a temple for you soul,
You will not be hurt….
Comes sweet breathlessness,
but,
each breath you take is intoxicating,
each breath you exhale - - - your heart is bigger…
There is not time enough for miracles
On the peripheries - the air is fragrant -
heady with the seduction of infusions,
ripe with wet wild flowers, swollen honeybees,
juicy fruits,
damp pine cones,
cool dewy leaves,
little showers of bursting pollen…
How did you forget where you came from?
How did you lose to this sanctuary of your soul?
How can you destroy this garden in your mind.
Why were you so afraid to walk to the other side,
to the very edge
to meet your self again?
2. The Delayed Tuesday Post#. As Usual 23
With sandy seashells in my pockets...
...and clamouring dreams in my head...
I walk along the shore...
...thinking about the soft quiet things (s)he said.
(After a long break due to: Wifi issues, crashed computer issues, being swamped with work issues, and the two non finished posts on 'cribbing about your country is a bad idea' hahah I present you 0 the simplest easiest post - lets just talk about how nice today is hahah)
With sandy seashells in my pockets...
...and clamouring dreams in my head...
I walk along the shore...
...thinking about the soft quiet things (s)he said.
(After a long break due to: Wifi issues, crashed computer issues, being swamped with work issues, and the two non finished posts on 'cribbing about your country is a bad idea' hahah I present you 0 the simplest easiest post - lets just talk about how nice today is hahah)
3. Belated Sunday Post# 000 Just some random thoughts.
- because if the society has not collapsed as yet, it means there are silent forces working to keep it going, and they are giving to it selflessly dedicatedly, because that's how the world works.
- be glad you have access to twitter, Facebook , Instagram, Whatsapp, Skype etc, many countries don't have access to these social media tools,
- the fact that you have access and can voice your opinion whether your Facebook friends like it or not - is a great privilege.
- your story is getting told. In your own words. your opinion matters.
- the cogs and wheels are turning, invisible, not obvious ... like inside the watch, the Swiss watch, and the Casio watch. They are churning and grinding just to tell you the right time.
- be glad the clogs and wheels are not flawed in your society, because that's what makes you tick at the right time.
Remember earth is just a blue dot, there are greater forces at work. Sometimes events and actions may blur if we all remember, earth is just a pale blue dot in a cacophony of riotous colours of the Universe.
(well the whole write up was way too long even for me to re-read- so here is slapdash version of the Sunday Late night musings.)
- because if the society has not collapsed as yet, it means there are silent forces working to keep it going, and they are giving to it selflessly dedicatedly, because that's how the world works.
- be glad you have access to twitter, Facebook , Instagram, Whatsapp, Skype etc, many countries don't have access to these social media tools,
- the fact that you have access and can voice your opinion whether your Facebook friends like it or not - is a great privilege.
- your story is getting told. In your own words. your opinion matters.
- the cogs and wheels are turning, invisible, not obvious ... like inside the watch, the Swiss watch, and the Casio watch. They are churning and grinding just to tell you the right time.
- be glad the clogs and wheels are not flawed in your society, because that's what makes you tick at the right time.
Remember earth is just a blue dot, there are greater forces at work. Sometimes events and actions may blur if we all remember, earth is just a pale blue dot in a cacophony of riotous colours of the Universe.
(well the whole write up was way too long even for me to re-read- so here is slapdash version of the Sunday Late night musings.)
4. Unfinished
4.b Late Night Sunday Post# 339
"Ami is in the spring and Ami is in the autumn, most of all Ami is in that tiny bird's sweet morning song =)"
.
In grief she looked everywhere for her misplaced heart,
searched high and low...
every minute frustratingly slow...
...and then one day she forgot to look…
smelling the fresh spring aroma of wild wet flowers,
she bent down to smell some more,
and there...
…. she found it...
in a teeny, teeny, tiny space - a place where it never rains,
guarded by ladybirds and daisy chains,
singing bemtives and beja flors,
a small sacred secret clubhouse, full of sun and buzzing bees smile emoticon
(- and ami will live on in those early fresh spring flowers and wild ripe fauna with the birds and bees buzzing as she did!)
"Ami is in the spring and Ami is in the autumn, most of all Ami is in that tiny bird's sweet morning song =)"
.
In grief she looked everywhere for her misplaced heart,
searched high and low...
every minute frustratingly slow...
...and then one day she forgot to look…
smelling the fresh spring aroma of wild wet flowers,
she bent down to smell some more,
and there...
…. she found it...
in a teeny, teeny, tiny space - a place where it never rains,
guarded by ladybirds and daisy chains,
singing bemtives and beja flors,
a small sacred secret clubhouse, full of sun and buzzing bees smile emoticon
(- and ami will live on in those early fresh spring flowers and wild ripe fauna with the birds and bees buzzing as she did!)
5. 6 Dec 2014
Post# 101 - Hello Ami, It's been a year now
Yesterday Ami turned one in her afterlife. I tried to make a drawing, or do something... in her memory, but alas yesterday was a busy day, and such is life.
We move on, we have to move on, we need to move on. I wore her green florescent (very 80's) earrings for the final exam and her purple socks (which I had not washed because it still smelt of her feet- and oh my god VICKS aaaargh!). (The idea came from a crazy aunt I love - all she said was 'wear bright colours!')
When I gave my exam presentation I included a drawing in it, (a drawing I made about her - few months ago)... my teacher and my colleague stood up in silence when I explained why I included that drawing and what it meant. It was a very respectful feeling. How they didn't say anything but came close to the e board to touch it. It stopped my heart, but I continued my presentation. And it went pretty good!
Then when I went back home, I wanted to do something, make a drawing just anything.
At night I took off her socks and washed them finally. What is gone is gone.
Just when I thought it was going to be very, very lonely in my thoughts, I got a text message, " just want you to know that I love you" , from my youngest sister, Memoona. It made me so happy, she is studying very hard for her exams, but she remembered, she was there every single day after ami passed away - even though she was having her exams - she would leave her house and come and stay nights and at times whole days with me, including her natkhat saheliayn =)
…. and today I got a beautiful message from Ami's last neighbours (angels in disguise), saying that in remembrance of Ami, they made me a dua too and they missed me…In them I found a family in my lonely sad stay in my mother's last house as I only packed my stuff off. Those months I met a handful of friends, to whom I am foerver indebted as they came daily, and they fed and took care of me, one of them flying from another city just to spend the nights, because I got scared at night.
I had thought that 6th of Dec was just another day, every one busy and no time, and already it is a year who cares.
I tried not to care, too -
- not burden other people with the fact that on the 5th Dec, night I was visualising the hospital room, the light entering and then fading, to my final hours with her, while I paced in and out. While I saw the monitors and failing stats and knew that it was time, but not really ready to let go.
How the doctor would periodically send me out, and I would keep coming back in despite his orders, because there was something that night, that told me- stay right here.
And I did. Till I saw pain leave her body and her face relax in a smile and her ashen face regain it's rosiness. She was free...
and yesterday on the 6th, I could only smell her perfume, everywhere next to my bed next to me. I ignored it, but today I woke up to her smell again, it was very sharp. It is a small perfumed candle that I took from her bedstead, I never lit it, but for two days it has been wafting her presence.
I am sorry Ami that I did not want to talk about your passing, and that I was trying to ignore, everything because who do I talk to? Who would understand? What was I supposed to do, life goes on, no one has time for such things.
But today I learnt, that I am strong enough to know and understand that what needs to be done is talk to myself, hear my own self - comfort the small me hiding inside. Ami's lingering scent is a reminder to not ignore issues - because others don't understand, but acknowledge them for yourself because it is important to yourself - not others.
I learnt that we are never truly alone, there is always someone trying to hear you. Even though you are not mumbling to them.
I learnt that just when you think no one cares, you find out it is not really important, as long as you understand that you are fine on your own..and then suddenly you see that a flood of love and caring opens your world =)
So today, a day after your barsi - Ami,
I gathered all my thoughts Good and Bad,
and arranged them in a shelf of my heart.
And I found a strange pattern in the chaos,
and that soothed me,
calmed me.
In the act of washing your socks,
I let go of an intangible essence of life.
When I walk past the hospital you gave birth to me,
I remember that you have been too, birthed in a better place.
In walking under the random jamun trees in Rio...
I remember the wonder and awe in which you recounted that there were Jamun trees in Rio.
Today I walk under the very Jamun trees
under which you walked, when I was within you, and there were stars in the sky...
I miss you Ami, even though we had our up and downs, and you always had two daughters to turn to, but I had only you =)
How can I ever forget you - you are my only Ami =)
May you rest in Peace, and May I join you soon one day and we then we will talk about those random Jamun trees in Rio =)
Here is one boggled, stuck drawing that would not come out, and I couldn't draw and so I gave up =(
Post# 101 - Hello Ami, It's been a year now
Yesterday Ami turned one in her afterlife. I tried to make a drawing, or do something... in her memory, but alas yesterday was a busy day, and such is life.
We move on, we have to move on, we need to move on. I wore her green florescent (very 80's) earrings for the final exam and her purple socks (which I had not washed because it still smelt of her feet- and oh my god VICKS aaaargh!). (The idea came from a crazy aunt I love - all she said was 'wear bright colours!')
When I gave my exam presentation I included a drawing in it, (a drawing I made about her - few months ago)... my teacher and my colleague stood up in silence when I explained why I included that drawing and what it meant. It was a very respectful feeling. How they didn't say anything but came close to the e board to touch it. It stopped my heart, but I continued my presentation. And it went pretty good!
Then when I went back home, I wanted to do something, make a drawing just anything.
At night I took off her socks and washed them finally. What is gone is gone.
Just when I thought it was going to be very, very lonely in my thoughts, I got a text message, " just want you to know that I love you" , from my youngest sister, Memoona. It made me so happy, she is studying very hard for her exams, but she remembered, she was there every single day after ami passed away - even though she was having her exams - she would leave her house and come and stay nights and at times whole days with me, including her natkhat saheliayn =)
…. and today I got a beautiful message from Ami's last neighbours (angels in disguise), saying that in remembrance of Ami, they made me a dua too and they missed me…In them I found a family in my lonely sad stay in my mother's last house as I only packed my stuff off. Those months I met a handful of friends, to whom I am foerver indebted as they came daily, and they fed and took care of me, one of them flying from another city just to spend the nights, because I got scared at night.
I had thought that 6th of Dec was just another day, every one busy and no time, and already it is a year who cares.
I tried not to care, too -
- not burden other people with the fact that on the 5th Dec, night I was visualising the hospital room, the light entering and then fading, to my final hours with her, while I paced in and out. While I saw the monitors and failing stats and knew that it was time, but not really ready to let go.
How the doctor would periodically send me out, and I would keep coming back in despite his orders, because there was something that night, that told me- stay right here.
And I did. Till I saw pain leave her body and her face relax in a smile and her ashen face regain it's rosiness. She was free...
and yesterday on the 6th, I could only smell her perfume, everywhere next to my bed next to me. I ignored it, but today I woke up to her smell again, it was very sharp. It is a small perfumed candle that I took from her bedstead, I never lit it, but for two days it has been wafting her presence.
I am sorry Ami that I did not want to talk about your passing, and that I was trying to ignore, everything because who do I talk to? Who would understand? What was I supposed to do, life goes on, no one has time for such things.
But today I learnt, that I am strong enough to know and understand that what needs to be done is talk to myself, hear my own self - comfort the small me hiding inside. Ami's lingering scent is a reminder to not ignore issues - because others don't understand, but acknowledge them for yourself because it is important to yourself - not others.
I learnt that we are never truly alone, there is always someone trying to hear you. Even though you are not mumbling to them.
I learnt that just when you think no one cares, you find out it is not really important, as long as you understand that you are fine on your own..and then suddenly you see that a flood of love and caring opens your world =)
So today, a day after your barsi - Ami,
I gathered all my thoughts Good and Bad,
and arranged them in a shelf of my heart.
And I found a strange pattern in the chaos,
and that soothed me,
calmed me.
In the act of washing your socks,
I let go of an intangible essence of life.
When I walk past the hospital you gave birth to me,
I remember that you have been too, birthed in a better place.
In walking under the random jamun trees in Rio...
I remember the wonder and awe in which you recounted that there were Jamun trees in Rio.
Today I walk under the very Jamun trees
under which you walked, when I was within you, and there were stars in the sky...
I miss you Ami, even though we had our up and downs, and you always had two daughters to turn to, but I had only you =)
How can I ever forget you - you are my only Ami =)
May you rest in Peace, and May I join you soon one day and we then we will talk about those random Jamun trees in Rio =)
Here is one boggled, stuck drawing that would not come out, and I couldn't draw and so I gave up =(
6. The Last Sunday Post of 2014 #. "That ship has Sailed, my friend".
As I lay floating by the cool silvery night,
…floating and breathing,
covered in silken stars, glittering drops.
I look for lives passed on by...
One by one -
I wonder about this year…as endless galaxies swirl past.
...in stillness, I wonder where my endless paper planes went…
A few I remember...
The one I flew to my father when I was 7, from Jauhrabad to Sao Paulo. It had the help of ‘kana’ reeds that grew wild there.
One I flew in Ogilvy because Manghi asked us to try and make one which will fly the best, longest, highest, fastest. It was a fun day. Most of them were ridiculous...
One at the cricket stadium - I aimed them at fans for fun - it was 24 March- when India and Pakistan had a friendly match, and I didn’t.
To be honest I made quiet a dozen or maybe a million.
I flew all of them...
...Little pieces of stories and memories in paper, folded, like notes of nostalgia.
Just like their origin - the aged trees, filled with silent memories and stories of mankind - and such nostalgia - that our hearts would never hold..
One by one.
Now...I sail.
As I float in the bed of sky...
…I sail my little origami boats of love,
as my messages to you here,
...and to those above…
in memory of childhood lost everywhere.
and..
then
I wait -
Till the morning brings the burning gold…
Slowly warming the untold...
Never has been a day so bold…
When you realise the last boat that you held...has sailed.
(work in eternal progress)
As I lay floating by the cool silvery night,
…floating and breathing,
covered in silken stars, glittering drops.
I look for lives passed on by...
One by one -
I wonder about this year…as endless galaxies swirl past.
...in stillness, I wonder where my endless paper planes went…
A few I remember...
The one I flew to my father when I was 7, from Jauhrabad to Sao Paulo. It had the help of ‘kana’ reeds that grew wild there.
One I flew in Ogilvy because Manghi asked us to try and make one which will fly the best, longest, highest, fastest. It was a fun day. Most of them were ridiculous...
One at the cricket stadium - I aimed them at fans for fun - it was 24 March- when India and Pakistan had a friendly match, and I didn’t.
To be honest I made quiet a dozen or maybe a million.
I flew all of them...
...Little pieces of stories and memories in paper, folded, like notes of nostalgia.
Just like their origin - the aged trees, filled with silent memories and stories of mankind - and such nostalgia - that our hearts would never hold..
One by one.
Now...I sail.
As I float in the bed of sky...
…I sail my little origami boats of love,
as my messages to you here,
...and to those above…
in memory of childhood lost everywhere.
and..
then
I wait -
Till the morning brings the burning gold…
Slowly warming the untold...
Never has been a day so bold…
When you realise the last boat that you held...has sailed.
(work in eternal progress)
7. First 2015, Sunday Post #00
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Things must end,
a circle must be infinite.
What must end for you,
must start for another.
a circle must be infinite.
What must end for you,
must start for another.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Mother sends a paper-boat,
her tears and her love is what is keeping it afloat...
[Her boat echoes with pain, of the sorrow she writes]:
My daughter!
I forget your voice!
You are the forgotten scream..
... in my stream of broken dreams.
[Little does the mother know, that every breath of life that she burdens with sorrow, rains a storm on the daughter -
Bending with weight of the tears on the other end of the stream. The daughter tries to send back a boat, unfortunately the paper-boat cannot float against the powerful current of sorrow.]
Mother,
How can I tell you,
my death is not yours.
I do not breathe,
but you do...
I am a school girl here,
just like you.
It is a new world here,
just like yours.
But in your world at some point, all must end,
so for you in your world - in blindness, we all lie silently together.
Not breathing…
For in your world - In breathing there is meaning.
In feeling there is life.
In seeing there is truth.
In hearing there is memory.
But...
Things must end,
a circle must be infinite.
What must end for you,
must start for another.
Here ....
I am a grown up in the sense of being.
But I am also just a little child,
Learning to sing.
You are breathing,
I am not breathing.
Yet we are the same.
-------------------------- The End -------------------------------
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