Back then, when I was a kid
The elders used to say, "If you repeat sonething, over and over, it loses its meaning...
.....
Ask a child to eat, or to sleep or to finish his work, ask...ask...ask!
Why should you keep asking?
Watch the morning sun or the early bird, watch.. Watch, watch and they cease to interest you
Wait for the afternoon naps, they become a routine,...
Wait for the sunset and it reminds you of evening,...
Gaze at the moon and it knells through the parting day!
.....

Everyday, everything, everytime on repeat...loses its meaning!

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Home,they say-is a feeling
Home, they say- is a place!

Home, however,is a time...
Time wherein you felt the calm and the chaos, and stayed inside with all the buried thoughts, careful not to spill them out
Time wherein you placed carefully, the tokens and treasures that you carried, from one place to another, knowing not how much would time change their worth!
Time enough to know the sunny spaces, the silent corners, the moonlit side or the airy parts, time enough to pause and know where did you pause before...
Time enough to know, how birds come early and leave before sunrise, taking a silent stroll in the empty balcony.
Time enough to know, how very laughter and how many smiles, how many longings and how many tears did happen by...
Time enough to bring to rest the realization of all the massive changes,

Home is where you stayed, in all your forms..home is what has seen you, the best and worst of you..
Home is what stays missing, when ahead you recount...

Home is time!! home is what stays in time....

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Everything waits...
And I am rushing no more,
....
In the intertwined spacing of milestones that crumble,
I am here, lurking no more,

There is time and yet no time
Work that sums up to so much left undone!
And I am rushing no more
...
A little messy, a little hasty,
This has become the makeover for now
And I am rushing no more!
...
Pages stacked up, paint brushes drained and dried, diaries blank and decked,
Too many words spilling unattended,
And I am rushing no more
....
Just to that faint shriek which cooes a little like, "mama....
I have to rush! As hastily as I can!

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Stuck on time's frail branches
That moment was etched
Fearing its fall, lest the branch should shake..
Or fall heavily down as the rains bowing and hailing through,
Sometimes like sooty showers, the drizzle of which stays streaming on face
And often like the drenching downspour, moistening and sickening memories to soak in the moment!
Time swims through,
Oscillating between all our yesterdays and tomorrows,
Dwindling between the forgetting and forever, beating and breathing.
Time is, the blink you just flashed
....
They say,
Time is but number
The formless void in the unlimited expanse,
Time is numerically segmented
And yet it spins, round and round
In the vast multitude of divinity, dream and destiny, of which we are but a speck of microcosm, transgressing or transcending...
Time they say,
Is Just number!

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I write in silver ink, the traces of time
On thick black pages tightly bound...
The shimmer fades,
The stain stays
Long after the words dry up, read and reread...
They were right,
They said, "it feels like yesterday...
Yes it felt, yes it feels!
They were right,
They said, "time heals it all...
Yes it heals, yes it healed..!
They said, "time flies...
Yes it does..

Then again,
Time is just numbers!
Time is what allows you to retain, things you can, moments you count..
Time is but numbers...!

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An year ago,
I was me.. An year later, I have become "us"
Things rushed into me, even if I slowly and steadily paced myself towards them.
I would always take pride in how my academic degrees bear no gap and how timely I shifted from one milestone to the other in life!
How job came along with degree and how marriage followed the job and how I shifted places both physically and mentally, gradually speeding into academia, when the most blessed, unexpected and yet desired status of "being a mother" was bestowed upon!
...
Everything waits now and I am rushing no more!
A year ago, I wouldnt compromise with my window seat, with my sleep, with my food, my wishlists or watchlist..
Today, I remember none, nor do i miss the part, I relish to have enjoyed that phase..
A year ago, I was me
A year hence, I have found us"
9
Everything waits and I am rushing no more,
I am prepared to talk, even if gurgles and laughters and random mews and coos are all he gives,
I am prepared to sit with him in my lap, anywhere near or far...and when he sleeps, i rest
His pictures and videos are my watchlist..
Can you call your baby, love, or is it love with just another name

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Late at night, when I fail to sleep
I read those poets
Who have helplessly endured the broken vows of fathomed love,
I read how they made through, seeing their fantasies wreck through a sea of despair,
I read how they lost their will to fathom sweet giggly stolen kisses, overshadowed boosted words of embrace
I read how they made through the beginning of fast approaching end
I read how they stopped believing in the idea of soulmates
I read how they classified themselves as the more invested one, everytime and everywhere
I read how they made through a life that lacked love..
I read them
They give me hope!

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Sometimes..
If you care,.you show it!
Love is not always silent, maybe there is a language it needs to be expressed in!

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People put names
Cute and romantic ones,
To relationships that hold special spaces in their lives
But there is none that i can think of, when it comes to us
Not because we lack that bit, but because these bits are many
I love how you play all the roles for me
You listen to all the tales that I have, the upheavals of work life, the experiences of pregnancy and delivery, the trivial facebook family tales, the deeper concerns of family, the lucid plans for a vacation, the hows and whys of so many absurds and non absurds..you are there! To talk and listen, to guide and counter,to agree or disagree, with you I have started relishing the simple delights of mundane life, the spirit of working, planning, hoping and believing together
Marriage is so many beautiful things to me,
I am glad that you were born, and that I get to share our lives together
And as bad i am with surprises and gifts, Words are the only precious tokens i can think of, but this year, and years ahead, i guess nothing can replace the gift that I have bestowed you with...Ilhaan 😊"the our of our lives" , and from us,to the ever better getting father that you daily become, "Happy Birthday"
Prayers, love and lots of love.

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Should there be a journey, of moving along together and still not knowing each other?

Should there be those conversations, within that journey, of sharing half truths and still fearing the reception?

Should there be drenched pot fulls of unrequited desires... Lost in the deserving privelege of what could have been..?

Should there be such matters,
That aren't worth writing or keeping silently to oneself...
But rather talking out aloud, talking with and talking deep..

That's what it has always been..
Of conversations meant to be, and if they didn't come through words, let tears speak on behalf and if not tears, then smiles maybe! And if not smiles, then stares maybe.. And if not anything... Let silence maybe!

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