13 Lessons I Learnt from Bereavement (Death of a Parent)

I was a happy, confident, proud 30-year old till 10:30 pm on February 12, 2016 when I saw my father – frozen, with lifeless eyes – on bed. A couple of hours later he was gone for good hopefully to a better place. What initially “felt” like numbness (yes, an oxymoron) turned into a vortex of emotions –– hopelessness punctuated with sobs, interspersed with morbid thoughts of the end of everything, followed by a sense of relief that his suffering was much less than it could have been (he died of cardiac arrest). This, ensued with the idea that may be he could have been saved. May be…

His death is something that I had never thought of. I took his presence, his life, his body and his breath for granted; his stooped shoulders, his slow gait, and his salt-and-pepper hair for granted. This soul-crushing experience has been traumatic for me and has also taught me:

  • That death of your parent is an insurmountable grief that can only be defeated –– bit by bit –– by time
  • That the gaping hole left in the heart probably never fills up
  • That you are now left with one person less in this world who loved you unconditionally
  • That abandonment may hit you hard
  • That it’s stupid to expect support – it is in times of death of a loved one, or any other personal loss equating it, when some people deemed close may give up on you
  • That you might feel angry and be filled with spite and venom for those who do not treat you the way you want to be treated or fail to lend you an ear or a shoulder to cry on
  • That your anger may be based on delusions; you might just not be getting their idea of support, sympathy, and even empathy
  • That this dangerous, self-destructive anger could actually burn bridges and make you repent words said when passions were running high, because it is only your mother and your sibling(s) who are experiencing the same as you are and sympathizers might fail to understand your psyche at this juncture
  • That it might be a little difficult to pick up the pieces again and get back into the rut
  • That writing might help (the way it is right now)
  • That it is OK to take it easy, slow up the pace, lean back, relax and reflect on life with him
  • That this is a great way of nature to acquaint you with your latent strength, which perhaps you could not have fathomed otherwise
  • That this is the lowest point on life’s capricious curve; it will take an upward turn after you have some semblance of normalcy someday

Shades of Life

Happiness – different shades of yellow

Like a glimpse of a yellow submarine

The zesty zest of a yellow lemon

Or the cheerfulness of a bright yellow sun

Melancholy – shades of black and grey

Like the eerie calm of a black night

Or a forlorn grey overcast sky

Black as the dilated pupils of an addict high

Anger – all hues of menacing red

Like the frightful crimson of vampire eyes

Or vermilion gushing out of a dead

Morbid molten lava entering the river bed




Of Wandering Mind, Peace, and Chaos

Wisdom told the mind to stay put; wanderlust asked it to keep wandering. And wondering.

Curiosity asked it to keep itself open; knowledge asked it to trap what all it came across as useful.

Meditation asked it to embrace tranquility; creativity commanded it to be in a perpetual state of chaos.

Anger asked it to destroy itself; divinity prayed for its preservation.

And the body asked for it life-long companionship.





A Sprinkle of Gratitude and a Dollop of Positivity

Let’s feel grateful – to nourishment, to our body which holds us together, to our positive thoughts that keep us going, to our family members who see us through our thick and thin – rotten and bliss, and to our lovely friends who tell us that it is ok to experience failures and lows in life.

Let’s thank our own selves – for being the biggest support in life, for enduring what we could not even imagine we had the power to face, for finding joys in the tiniest of positives, for building and living on hope, for being there for people who needed us.

Let’s get humbled by nature – for its fortitude in the form of lofty mountains, fury in the form of calamities of land and water, beauty which cannot be completely described by words, and an indomitable spirit which we should always strive for.

This post is for all those experiencing moments of despair and self-doubts. It’s banal to say good will happen soon. But this is just a small way to change our attitude towards all the negativity and see the countless positives happening around us, and also the fact that we are much more stronger than we think.

Love and light!

Summer Memories on Christmas

Reap what you sow,

the saying goes.

A ray of sorrow,

the barren fallows.

A slate of frost

she wishes to adorn.

With words long lost

both happy and forlorn.

A longing for light

dyed in bright yellow.

Tiny birds in flight
eyed by the little fellow.

She misses them all
the birds and the summers

Winter after fall,
silenced laughter of brothers.

The frost her canvas,
and a pen of reed.

Lies her written lament of Christmas,
like a treasure chest buried.

Her memories sown,
what shall they reap?

A tree of the past,
and fallen leaves of memories in a  heap.

A Riot of Emotions with Emojis

When was the last time you actually laughed out loud? Any memories of a joke which made you laugh so much that you cried?

Any recollection of when you contorted your face by brandishing your teeth in grimace? Or the last time you appreciated someone by actually applauding them? Or showed your contempt by sticking your tongue out?

Did you ever wish your eyes turned in to hearts in a display of affection, love or raw lust? Or the devil’s horns grew up on your head to finally unravel the darker side of you? How about throwing your throbbing heart at a long lost friend now found or a plan you thought was divine?

Remove the word “actually” and you will know how inherent a part of our life the virtual manifestation of these emotions are. Emojis, smileys, emoticons, or ideograms – call them anything and let’s give that to them – are all-pervasive and indispensable. A virtual conversation no matter how grave and real would be insipid and boring, and lack punch and traction without these majorly yellow-coloured cute little things.

Emoji addiction is fantastic. There is this tribe of people (including myself) which cannot type a single sentence or end a conversation promptly without sending an army of at least twenty puny emojis.

And they have taken the world by storm. Like the ISIS they are going to be all over – running down our shoulders, into our bowls of soup – screaming “I am happy”, “I am sad”, “I am horny”, “I am constipated”, “I am delirious”, “I am a Buddha boy”, “I am a Buddha girl”, “I am Zen”, and every possible emotion your heart can experience. (Trust me – constipation and other matters related to your digestive system can take you on an emotional spiral and trouble your heart.)

Let me test if WordPress allows emojis here😛:)😀

(Yeah it does! :P)

When Mind Rambles

My favourite pastime is aimlessly wandering about – on hazy clouds of thought, sandy beaches of fear, verdant jungles of happiness, dark caves of fantasy, and lofty mountains of ambition. In a quiet corner of my dusty mind, I crave for solitude. The kind of quiet disrupted by the jingling laughter of a kid; the kind of quiet interrupted by a trickling sound of a brook in a hill; or the kind of quiet shooed away by an old hand on my shoulders. An old hand on the shoulder is very reassuring. An old hand on the shoulder gives  me comfort and makes me think I can lead a life like a kid – nonchalant, with no worries and burdens, like a free bird.

Talking of shoulders – they are a symbol of resilience – pulled back, upright, strong, never stooping under the burden of the world. And yet these do succumb to the harsh reality of this world. The more acquainted we get with this harsh reality as we age, the weaker our shoulders grow. Yet their spirit doesn’t flag. It’s marvelous – the indomitable spirit of these weak shoulders, which first gave me a bird’s eye view of my tiny little world.

I miss my grandparents. I miss their weak, tiny little bony shoulders.