Happy Birthday, My Son

The emotional bond a mother shares with her child is indescribable in words. This poem is a portray of the emotions the mother passes through every time remembering her child who is no more.

Dear Beloved Son;
Today is your birthday,
But the only feeling I have is hollowness within me.
For you hid somewhere and is nowhere to find;
I want to hold you tight, hug you and say, “Ma , is always there by your side”,
But then you are nowhere to find.

Where should I go to find you, dear?

I feel the pain in my womb every time I miss you;
My body aches, my broken bones cry aloud,
I pass through labor each time your memories within me shaken.
Yes, I remember the day of your birth still;
I had bore you in my womb for nine months,
My body gave up with the tiresome labor and I cried a lot.

Then, the moment the nurses placed you in my arms-

I saw you were the amazing art;
“My blood, my flesh and my soul”,
You were my most beautiful part.
A proudest moment of my life ever;
When I transformed from a lady to your eternal better half,
Yes, I became your mother.

You slowly grew from a single cell to a whole body-

Whose small hand could hardly cover my figures and be steady;
I watched you grow step by step and be ready.
Your talks, your mischief, your laughter, your ego,
I saw you fall and rise;
I stood there beside you but always wanted to hide,
You mumbled, you spoke.

I cherished every moment of yours-

The moment I hugged you, you filled my heart with unknown emotions;
My heart melted making way for tears in my eyes,
Deep within, you understood me and I understood you, Dear.
Societal misunderstandings were there which strained our relationships;
But deep within we both knew we had inseparable emotions,
“My blood, my flesh and my soul”.

You understood my pain then-
You understand me now;
But, can you hear me loud?
Ma wants to Please touch you again.
Feel you, hug you thousand times and kiss you hard;
Give you all my blessings,
And say, “Ma will always be by your side”.

But, I know you will never come-

I know you are back there within mine;
“My blood, my flesh and my soul”,
And, you are just fine.
The day you lay on the dying bed;
I saw myself pass through labor again,
I felt the pain again.

You clutched my figure tight this time-
You had grown up to be a young man of twenty nine;
I saw your sleepy eyes and your tiredness from life,
But, still selfishly I secretly wished you stay by my side.
Yes, my emotions were making me weak;
I didn’t want you to see me crying,
Because I knew you understood you were dying.

Your pains were more than me-
I kissed you hard;
I hugged you tight,
And my soul ripped apart.
I prayed, “Give me back my child again”;
Somewhere within a sound came, “I relive within you mother”
And not a single word I could utter.

That moment I knew you were gone back-

To the place from where you were born;
I touched your lifeless body and I touched my womb,
I felt that you are safe, in peace and back home.
Yet, I want you my child in my life, everyday;
I feel your presence within me when I cry,
But now my tears are all dry.

The moment you were born I relived a life-

And now that you are gone;
Still, I wish you Happy Birthday,
“My Blood, My Flesh, My Soul, My child”.

https://www.launchora.com/story/happy-birthday-my-son

Crawling back to Womb

Busy, Monday morning. Nothing exciting to happen in my life. A strict routine follow up to consume myself all in work. Morning 8’ to evening 8’ engulfed with my laboratory work. This was my daily life within this small blue & white painted two BHK flat where except my colleague Venu and the couple of black bean bags any one barely arrived.  Yes, of course sometimes Mr & Mrs Roy my neighbors came to bring a change to this daily routine.

Mr Roy was from army background. But besides that he was my fatherly figure too whom I missed so much. A warm smile from Mr Roy or kind words from Mrs Roy just soothed my scary heart which was bruised daily from the effects of every patient counseled by me.

Although I had very lovely childhood my relationship with my younger brother during adolescence had got complicated. He seemed to be arrogant against my every word and act. This imbalance seems to increase day by day which took up to a clash for love of parents as we reached youth. This intruded me to leave home for good thus bearing the deep scars of leaving my parents whom I loved so much.

Here, at Kolkata after 2 years I had everything including a deep hollowness, which survived within me. I knew everything couldn’t be perfect in life all the time but then every time the question that buzzed in my mind during my loneliness was, “What went wrong?”  And probably to get to the root of this I chose psychology as my specialization after completion of my masters. Still, I stay aloof and just like a maze of threads the relation between my brother and me seemed to get more muddled, the more I tried to mend it. This has turned out to be my daily morning sickness, which caught itself high when I tried to crawl back to sleep again.

Sharp 7’ A.M there was two consecutive knocks on my cabin. I knew who it was. Being an ex-army man time meant the most expensive thing to Mr Roy. Without waiting for the second slot of knocks I rushed to open the door as if I had been eagerly waiting for this. A 6 feet 4’’ person with tanned skin smiled in front of me. He greeted, “Good Morning Snigdha. I am back”.

I responded, “Good Morning Mr Roy. How are you this morning?”

Mr Roy, “This morning seems to be very good. See I have got red poppies in my garden. They are smiling at me saying my son shall arrive soon”.

My face turned pale I understood. Just behind his back Mrs Roy stood apace with tears in her eyes which protruded the pain of her womb. I revived. Raising my left hand I gestured to console Mrs Roy which I knew was of no use.  Greeting back Mr Roy I said, “Please come in.”

Although quite surprised to see such a strong person act in such a way I tried to act normal keeping aside my doubts & concerns.

Mr Roy said, “Hey no I came to invite you to my home to have breakfast with us.”

I saw him with astonishment and said, “Thank you for your invitation but breakfast some other time. But please join me for tea. I shall be happy. You too Mrs. Roy. Although Mrs Roy has to make the special tea with extra cream for all three”. I just tried to lighten the situation.

Mr. Roy seemed adamant & said, “Yes, of course. But I  have come to invite you because today is my son’s birthday. He rang me up and said he shall be arriving today evening to take us with him.”

I replied, “Ohh, really that’s great news. This calls for a treat then. Come on lets have breakfast in my place then. A departing treat from my side since you both shall be leaving. ”.

Mr Roy replied, “Come on Snigdha please”.

I looked at his face and just couldn’t ignore his child-like smile and replied with a smile, “Yes”.

In the back of mind I understood that something wasn’t right because neither Mr. Roy had a garden nor it was the time for poppies to grow in summer. I closed the door at the back of me & followed Mr Roy to his flat where Mrs Roy waited eagerly.

But in the half way Mr. Roy mumbled, “No let’s go to your place. It’s better. Soumi (Mrs. Roy) please get some tea”.

Mrs Roy greeted, “Good morning Shree”.

The bells rang in my ear because except Snigdha nowadays I wasn’t used to hear my pet name very often. It only happened when my mother rang me to ask, “Shree when you are coming back?”

I said, “Very good morning Mrs. Roy. What’s Roy special in today’s breakfast? Bring it over to my place. ”

Trying to conceal her pain & tears she replied, “Ya, of course. What shall you like to have tea or coffee?”

I replied, “Ahh strong tea for sure with extra cream in it buttttt Mr Roy has invited me to have breakfast”. Turning towards Mr Roy I asked him with a mischievous smile, “Isn’t it Mr Roy?”

Mr Roy replied unmindfully, “Mmmm. Did I? Might be”.

I clinched my eye-brows together possibly because now I understood something was definetly wrong. I replied, “Ohh sorry Mrs Roy I was just kidding. Mr Roy come over.  Mrs. Roy can you arrange some tea please”.

Mrs Roy said, “Ya, I will bring tea for us”.

I turned back to enter my flat & Mr Roy followed me just like a disciplined kid.

I said to Mr Roy, “Please have a seat”.

I guess he understood my words intensity and sat down beside me on a bean bag just like a little boy who although doesn’t want to sit to study but have to because of the dearth from his mother. I reposed and spoke, “Mr. Roy what’s going on in your mind? What is bothering you so much?”

Mr Roy as if unsatisfied with my verses said, “No, nothing”.

I touched his hands warmly and said, “Please you need to talk”.

In my sub-conscious mind I was surprised by my own act. I guess this happened because Mr. Roy was very close to my heart. He resembled my father somewhere whom I missed every moment. But I noticed that he was getting quite uncomfortable and irritated. Probably because, he was more used to my social soberness than my childish emotions.  So I left his hand & said quite coldly, “O.K”.

Mr Roy raised his head & what I saw melted me. He was weeping just like a small child weeps soundlessly when being scolded by a beloved.  This tensed me. I understood that Mr Roy was going through mental trauma something which he isn’t able to speak to. I stepped down from my seat and sat on my knees next to Mr. Roy. I noticed that even my voice was quivering with emotions.  Clearing my voice I assured him, “Please speak”.

He questioned abruptly, “Am I mad?”

I was stunned, “Who said that to you?”

Mr. Roy answered, “My son”.

I literally gaped and paused for a moment, “why?’

Mr. Roy continued, “I couldn’t recall where the family album was kept. I asked him if he knew or not. Probably I had asked him more than two times.  He got frustrated. He yelled at me & said, “Baba you have gone mad. Why do you need that crap now?” You see Snigdha”.

He paused. I could clearly see the tears re-appearing in his eyes which he tried hard to suppress. Biting his lips together he continued, “Family album…” he gasped, “my no, no, our family album. Is it of no importance to him? Or now his own family is more important to him than our family. Don’t we belong to his family? Where did we go wrong?”

I kept quite not because I knew he was speaking the truth but even because his pain was somewhere linked to mine. I stared hard towards him but still couldn’t speak.

Mr. Roy said, “Can the sedatives relief me from this emotional pain, where my only son stays in the same apartment but barely comes to meet us. I wait for him every day but at the end of day just a call. Are we meant nothing? We have every luxury in life yet stay in a bed full of emotional thrones.”

I found myself shaking my right leg vigorously. This happens mostly when I get tensed. I stood up & started strolling around but knew Mr. Roy’s eyes were following me to & fro eagerly to get an assurance, an answer. Of course I didn’t have any & was wishing the arrival of Mrs. Roy with tea”. He asked again clearing his, “Probably I am bothering too much. I must be leaving”. Saying so he got up at once and started to leave.

I observed him carefully as he walked towards the door. My mind responded, “Time is running out. Don’t let him move back into darkness”. But then I suppressed the urge because I knew even I couldn’t help him since he was the only one who could help himself. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath. “Ten, nine, eight, seven….one.” The next moment he stood turned towards me smiled and came back to take over the seat again. My profession demanded me to stay and listen but right at this moment I was myself crippled with emotions.

This scene from my buried memories of 5 years re-occurred in front of me when I opened the email dropped in my inbox from a quite irrelevant address. The email read, “He died peacefully dear. Yours Mrs. Roy” My heart sank. Probably now I realized how much Mr Roy was important to me. His last words from his last meeting banged within my head, “Snigdha, Probably I think I am crawling back to womb”.

As if a dismayed small child I asked, “Why do you say that?”

Mr. Roy had replied, “When I was small I used to think the elders to be very dominating and wanted to grow fast. This intention became fruitful when I grew up and was able to dominate all. I guess during that period I almost forgot that what was coming in front of me. But now I know that the reward has come back in the form of my son’s verses my Karma”.

I knew, he was speaking the truth. But still, I stopped him from being so pessimistic & said, “That is not the complete truth. You are also a kind person”.

Mr. Roy looked towards me in astonishment saying, “Am I? I don’t think so. I am arrogant and because of this strict nature I guess my son is not with me”.

I chose to be the silent listener. Mr. Roy continued, “Spiritual moral aspects me to believe that we all spiritually need to be alone but then why the soul itself endives to think about family, and intends us to be in group. I am afraid to be alone”.

Saying so he broke down again whereas I stood still like a statue. The begotten life of mine was hatched with emotional pains but here stood in front of me the side-effect of our decisions coming from elders. He sobbed and I thought of my mother sobbing when I left our home because of the in fugitive moral clash with my brother. I remembered how she said, “Snigdha this is your home too. Please don’t go.” My dad just said, “I have never asked you to go. This is as much your home as his. You mean same to me. But you are an adult now & know what needs to be done”. I didn’t listen to them & left just because my ego was hurt. Now I know how they felt.  How badly I wanted to go back to them.

I heard Mr. Roy’s voice again, “As days are passing by I am feeling I am crawling back again”.

Still wrapped in my thoughts I tried to re-concentrate through his words, “What? Crawling back. Crawling back, where?”

He smiled amidst tears, “back to womb dear. Only I guess if I could re live the time again with my family whom I adamantly had hurt in one way or another to prove myself correct”.

His words pinned my ego down. I understood my family was so important to me whom I betrayed just because of my false possessiveness.  He was indeed teaching me a lesson through his life which I needed the most.

His words floated again, “When we are born we have no teeth, less hair, wrinkled skin and as we grow we beautify with youth but then the old age reverses everything balancing us to get ready for the ultimate. We get wrinkled skin, loose hair and teeth and even start behaving childish. Hopefully, now you know why I said crawling back to womb”.

I dared not to see towards him because I didn’t want to show my tears of guilt. Then he said again, “Go back Snigdha, Go back. Family might make you spiritually feeble but it’s the only light that helps you burn your energy throughout. Or else one day you shall be standing at my place and saying someone about “Crawling back to womb” which you would want badly but you can’t.”

Still totally engulfed in my thoughts I heard a voice, “Snigdha come tea is ready. Bring your baba’s (father’s) newspaper. Risi (my brother) is waiting for you.” I re-conceived my ma’s voice & closed my eyes.

Tears fell from my eyes as condolence for Mrs. Roy and gratitude towards him who helped me to be back to the place where I belong.  I repeated his words in silence, “Crawling back to Womb”.

https://www.launchora.com/story/crawling-back-to-womb

He was traumatised and afraid of sex, but she helped him heal

Left traumatized after an incident years ago, he hadn’t been able to sleep with his wife, until she broke down his walls

 

We got married six years ago, but I haven’t slept with her ever.

Being from an orthodox Rajasthani family where marrying at the right time is important, under immense family pressure I married Avni. She wanted me and I wanted her too. But, every time I went near her, flashbacks left me mentally tortured. I’d be filled with guilt.

Avni at first hesitated, but as time passed and I still resisted, she started asking questions I couldn’t answer.

“Did you marry me under family pressure? Are you impotent or gay?”

But every time I remained silent and walked away, leaving her in dismay, confusion and emotionally torn up.

One day, however, her patience ended. She stood in front of me with betrayal in her eyes. I had just returned from summing up the day’s business and was tired but there she stood still. She grasped my hands and squeezed. I tugged but she didn’t let go.

Avni took my hands and placed them on her hips. I shivered and pushed her away, “Have you gone out of your mind?”

“Yes, I’ve gone out of my mind. Do I have a choice? You haven’t touched me since the day of our marriage but you take care of me so much in every other way. We’ve been married for two years and now our families have started asking questions like, ‘When are you planning to have children?’”

Avni took a deep breath and continued, “I don’t have the answers, do you?” I couldn’t meet her eyes, they were filled with questions.   

Then slowly I spoke, “I know I’m being unjust and if you want you can leave me. Just file for divorce. Put all the blame on me. I promise I will not contest it. Don’t destroy your life for me.”

“No, I am not going to leave you. I want to know you. Can we start knowing each other? Can we become friends, please?”

Ten years after the tragic incident her words broke the shell I’d built around me and I spoke about it.

It was 10:00 p.m. on my first day of training as an engineer in a metro city.

I rushed to the house where I was staying as a paying guest with four more guys. Today I saw them for the very first time. They warmly welcomed me and offered me drinks. Something however seemed very nasty about their over-friendly nature. One of them slowly bolted the door.

They began to get cosy with me and after a few drinks began bullying me. They forcibly took out my wallet, but unfortunately, there was only Rs 200 in it.

“Sorry, today was the first day of my training and I don’t have more cash with me,” I pleaded.

This made them angry.

One said, “He doesn’t have anything to give us but we have many things to take from him.”

They started hitting me. I tried to save myself but then I gave up. It was then I realised what they wanted to do next. They started sexually assaulting me. No one came to help me. I tried to shout but one of them had forcefully inserted my own shirt into my mouth and was holding a knife near my neck.

They left me helpless on my bed where I lay till the dawn. At the break of dawn I somehow gathered myself and went to the bathroom, stood under the shower and started crying, too afraid to shout. I was afraid and ashamed.

I stayed in the room, restless without sleep. The guys came back and threatened me, assaulted me again. I wanted to go to the police but thought of my family’s reputation. So, I decided to flee and buried this secret deep within my heart. The unseen scars of that incident however became my worst nightmares.

I felt my knees tremble and was about to fall when Avni helped me to sit down. I cried and she hugged me tight. But, somewhere I felt light as if a huge burden had been lifted from my soul.

Within a few days I was able to share everything with her: my fears, my cause of distress, my reason for running from sex, and she was the one who saw my tears. She stayed with me throughout. She took me to the counsellor and helped me fight my fears.

It took four years to get myself counseled. And tonight my new life begins.

(As told to Joyeeta Talukdar)

This was first published inhttp://www.bonobology.com/

http://www.bonobology.com/sex/sex-and-passion/595-he-was-traumatised-and-afraid-of-sex-but-she-helped-him-heal 

 

Can you hear me?

I walked over the roads,
I walked through the lifeless stones
Felt like each had thousand stories untold.
" Can you hear me? ", as if they screamed,
" I have witnessed many tales
Saved many fails-
But,  no one sees through me
They feel that I only stand still".
"I see you all fall and then help you to raise,
Support you to everybit for it,
Although a fall over me is not light
But still you can't hear my cry.
Like you thousands come and go
Some wished to hear me and some just pass by-
Yet I scream everytime, "Hey,  can you hear me?
And give a loud call to every passer by.
I see them laugh, play,  cry,plead
And then just move by
I stand still
Just screaming and witnessing them all . "

World Poetry Day
21/03/2017

Who Am I?????

Do you know, “Who Am I?”, “Who the hell am I?”

This is my only question to every passerby.

Because I am ravished by the dazzles of my pride

& I know that the heavens are not where I may rely.

Waking up every day I ask a question to myself,

“Can I ever realize the real fact & truth that who am I?”

The instant answer comes from somewhere within,

“Dear me you don’t lead but are leaded,

You are a Soul , Free Soul without a name 

Without any color without any bound 

That's what you can only feel Proud"

Live to the moments. live to the song

For no one can ever answer, "Who am I?"

Joyeeta Talukdar