WHEN THE CHAOS IN ME FOUND BALANCE

When we say that words have the power to heal, it is not merely another cliched statement. I am thoroughly convinced of this realization. I have always enjoyed reading more than writing until lately when writing has turned my source of catharsis. During my childhood, writing even an essay caused a frown on my face for I always lacked expression and my words failed to gather any attention. I did write at times but they were meant for a diary. It was used to vent out my frustration whenever I secured low marks or the homely anguish troubled me. Other than that, writing didn’t come naturally to me. However, it is an irony that today I find both pleasure and solace in writing.

Just like many others, I resorted to writing when depression struck me and I felt no one could understand me better. It was like there was an earnest need to get things out of me as I felt that I was growing hollow day by day. Blogging has actually been the best decision of my life since the support I got from the writing world has been amazing. I don’t mean assistance in literal terms of flowering comments and appreciation but their consistent presence that asserted I am not alone helped me to recover soon.

Pouring my heart out clears the toxins out of my chaotic mind and lightens my soul. The best part is that writing gives full liberty to create an illusionary world where I can not only dream anything fancy but can also fly. Earlier it was difficult for me to think positive and maybe even today my poems end on a sad note most of the times. However, I can say my sufferings have reduced substantially for writing actually works as a therapy. It has even enabled me to see the beauty in things which made no sense a few years back. When the ink bleeds, it actually breaks the walls that we build around us to avoid further hurt from penetrating. For writing brings along the gift of acceptance melting the heart to even perceive others’ sorrows.

Initially, I wrote about my pain, my miseries, and my preferences. However, when nature around started affecting me positively, my words gradually drifted towards the colours beyond white and black, reflecting joy. My writings are evolving day by day as now I have developed linking the observations beyond my personal experiences thereby empathising with others’ circumstances. Every element of nature be it living or non-living has now meaning for me as if it all symbolizes something ethereal. It is certainly a fact that our words can create an impact only when they are poignant enough to affect us deeply and we are fully convinced.

Whether we write about the demons scaring us or the fairies in heaven, it reflects the exquisite mental state and our position of the heart. Whenever we articulate the stories or poems depicting verity wrapped in ornamental words, it becomes more appealing. Just like the words have the power to rescue us from the chaotic world, they also have the potential to strike the reality hard on the face. Writing has always driven me forward while helping me to reminisce the bad times like a good memory. No sooner than our words start leaving footprints than we realize that this talent needs to be utilized for healing than reminding people of their scars. With this, I conclude by saying that writing actually helps our own selves before acting as a support system for others. Thus, we need not be mindful of what we write for it is actually necessary to vent it out before we fill rivers with our tears!

SEEING THE WORLD DIFFERENTLY

I was never a writer… I never thought I could write something that would interest others. It is thanks to two very important people in my life that I got into writing. 

Let’s begin from the starting…

As a kid I loved stories. My Dad used to buy so many books for me from book exhibitions. I had a great collection and I used to love reading and rereading them. My storybooks were my prized possessions. There were a lot of  Russian book exhibitions in our area so my collection had a great many stories of Czars and Czarinas. Whenever I read a story I always visualised it – the room, the ambiance, the characters, etc, I always formed a mental picture of the whole thing. This craze for books spilled over to my adolescence also. From Famous Five, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys to Mills and Boons to Sydney Sheldon, Danielle Steele I guess my affair with books was lifelong. 

Coming back to the point, throughout this journey I never felt the urge to write. I was quite happy reading what others were churning out. My sister Prabhjot was actively writing for Candles Online. I don’t know what spark she saw in me and proposed my name to Chiradeep. But it was only due to the coaxing and guidance and patience and perseverance of Chiradeep and Prabhjot that I became a blogger. They both saw something in me that I myself didn’t.

Writing changed my life in many many ways. I was very bogged down by the daily mundane chores of my life. Life was just routine and not exciting. Writing for Candles changed that. Just the fact that the people were reading what I wrote and commenting on it was exhilarating. The small little limelight that was shown on me boosted my confidence a great deal. 

Writing an article is never easy for me. I usually plan everything out in my mind and then start typing. Some days it easily flows and some days I get stuck at every word. But it’s a journey which is very fulfilling. It’s an outlet for my emotions. Because of my love for stories I use a lot of anecdotes for my articles. And the inspiration for these articles comes from people around me and my interactions with them. I have started looking at the world from a different perspective. After all, anything or anybody or any incident could be an inspiration for my next article. There is a story in every person I meet I just try to weave them into my articles and my thought process.

WRITING MY HEART OUT

Writing has put me to ease, always! Be it expressing my feelings in a better way or just venting out my feelings writing comes to my rescue. I started expressing via writing at a very early age. I was 13 yrs when 3 children from our school died in an accident while on their way to school. That was the first time I felt the need to let out my emotions through a poem. That poem was a tribute to those kids and it was so well received that the principal of our school had put it up on the notice board for days together for all to read. Those were the days when there were no school magazines or anything alike, hence the any of your contribution getting displayed on the notice board was a huge achievement.

Writing is therapeutic for me. I write when I am sad, I write when I am happy and I write when I am overwhelmed with my own life. I prefer to write mostly because you are always able to edit what you have written, unlike the words that you say. So writing my emotions out is the safest bet for me because I am dead sure that it is not going to hurt anyone.
Writing heals me you know. When my life had hit the rock bottom, it was writing that I resorted to. From poems I moved on to write about social issues, then short stories and then microblogging at Instagram. I let my distress make a way out of my mind through each blog that I posted. Every blog of me, every story that I wrote has a true part of me. This was a major catalyst in my life. It helped me tremendously when I was fighting infertility for years together followed by undergoing very difficult fertility treatments. I wrote about my loss – a loss that no mother is able to take. But writing it out gave me the strength to move forward.
I took to Instagram recently. Over there, I write about my IVF journey and I feel so good when some women reach out to me just to tell that they look up to me as a role model and hope that they will be able to overcome infertility like me. Some ping me to ask about infertility doctors and some others ping only to pour their heart out. I am so blessed that God has given me this art which helps me touch a distressed life and provide comfort or motivation to them. I am also working on creating my own website and I am hoping to put up such content there which will make a positive change to women like me who crave and pray for having a baby. Wish me luck with that!
I wanted to do a career in writing but the accounting bug bit me and I turned in to an accountant now punching numbers to balance sheet and P&L day and night and words only playing on my mind all the time.
I can not end this emotional outpour without mentioning about two people. I met two wonderful people who took my writing interest to the next level in the form of blogging. Those two people are none other than Savio (he joined Candles Online recently) and our very own Charlie. The encouragement that I have for from these two is incredible. So a big big thank you to Savio and Charlie for being a constant support and a critic. You have always helped me improve. And all of you – my extended blogging family who take time out to read my articles and blogs, I can’t thank you enough! Your likes and comments on my post cheer me up to no extent.
I would like to take your leave with a very inspiring quote from Maya Angelou in her book, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings –
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
Happy writing guys! 🙂

WRITING CURED MY SANITY

Ever since I became a mother, I was completely lost. It was like a new era of my life, that confused me to the core. For one moment I wanted to be a perfect mom, the next moment I lost it with my impatience. It took me so long to understand that there is nothing like a “perfect mom”. We all do some or the other way to be a good mom or maybe an average – but motherhood is not measured using a scorecard. Exactly this is what I learned as my first lesson from the time I began to write. It helped me burst the sanity of perfection and much more.

And all I began to do is love my kids with all my heart. People might point fingers at me for being so insane. But I was enjoying it to the core. The moment I shed a cloak of sanity and trying to fit in, I was happier and merrier.

It was all the moment I began to share my experiences. It showed me that I was not just alone in the world dealing with the same issues. And I could literally enjoy the moments of my life.

woman reading book
Photo by Joy Deb on Pexels.com

I am not an avid reader, but I love reading.  If I could recollect the first book I read -it was Matilda – the story of a little girl with unlimited dreams. I was more like her, but with much more limitations to succeed. Earlier the thoughts were cluttered in my head. And all I did was just think – rethink-think and again re-think polishing it a little bit. At times it confuses my present and the past. The moment I began to write the thoughts cloud reduced to minute ones, as my thoughts began to float in my words. It was a turning point in my life.

Writing has befriended me like no one ever can. I could weave my dreams, realisation, achievements and even my limitations in a better way. I could write even when I was judged many times. It helped to boost my confidence, making me realise a hidden potential in me.

The more I write, the more I feel relieved.

greyscale photography of woman wearing long sleeved top
Photo by Kat Jayne on Pexels.com

Finally, during my times of depression, especially the one’s most ladies can’t wade off – the postpartum depressions- writing helped to build a career in my life. Even when the pay off was not so grand, I enjoyed every bit of appreciation that occurred to me.

In a way, writing helped me discover a hidden me, who was in great slumber.

My key advice to newbies would be, keep writing, never stop your pen from bleeding. Do not be discouraged by unwanted comments. Just ignore it and move on. You have better things to listen to.

Writing is discovering your insanity and then embracing it. This is how my SoulRecitals was born.

Happy Reading And Writing!!!

LETTER TO MY FATHER

Dear Father,

Hope You are doing well there. I am fine here. It’s been long since I opened up about my feelings. Today I want to let it flow without any interruption or inhibition.

I want to tell you how much I miss you. The lateral distance between us seems irrelevant as I find you by my side every day in my dreams. Every time I cook your signature dishes I miss your touch in them. Every moment I watch my kids grow up I can imagine your expressions and reactions if you were around them. Every year when my trips are due to my homeland I can visualize how happy you would be to receive me. Whenever I have a disagreement with mom I know you would vouch for me. To put it plain and simple you are never away from me.

But more I find you closer to me more I regret not apologising to you for my rude behaviour, for my harsh words, for my cold shoulder that I gave you when you least expected it. We had a crisis, we stood together and rose to the occasion but I did let anger dwell within me against some of your decisions. The new then-found independence handed me over a bit of arrogance which I sometimes used in my words that hurt you. That was in the spur of the moment though.  You never held any grudge against me. We fell apart but kept flowing together only to reconcile more strongly. I thank you for everything you did for me.

Now having a family of my own I understand how spearheaded words can leave you wounded for long or forever. I plead of being guilty to have done the same to you. I wish I could have apologised to you early. I wish I could have ripped open my heart to you to show how guilt is written all over it. I wish I could talk to you one more time.

I miss you and I am sorry Daddy.

Yours Lovingly,

Daughter.

P.S: please post this letter to heaven as my father resides there.

People say “better late than never” but I would say “do it before it’s too late“. As a family, we all have such moments transpiring among us where in the heat of arguments or disagreements, disappointments, disapproval we end up shooting curses, venomous words to hurt people and satisfy our ego for that moment. Later everything falls back to normalcy. We sometimes apologise, sometimes take “Sorry” for granted and never actually say it because we know our family loves us with all our follies and we move on.  And many a time there are instances that our leniency would never give us a chance to say it to the concerned person even after we realise how wrong we were because that person is gone like in my case.

Remember: Apologise now before it’s too late because later you might have all the courage and beautiful words to express your remorse but the person might not be there with you forever.  Uncertainty’s thy name is LIFE.

BEYOND THE DOORPOST

There is danger out there, my love
You’re safe in here.

 

Numerous times a day did I hear,
These lines from my mother dear.


Unaware what she meant exactly,
I often sulked dejectedly.

 

The house and the square courtyard,
Was all that I had to myself under everyone’s surveillant guard.

I loved my family,
So dared not march towards anomaly.


But their fears unspoken deep within,
And tears unshed bothered me day out and day in.


Courage had I none,
To venture out and have some fun.


The open skies beckoned with their serenity untold
The lush green orchards how I wished to behold!

There is danger out there, my love
You’re safe in here.

 

Leaving behind the years of tender childhood,
As a young man I one day stood.


Shaking my fist and bellowing loud,
I threatened to go past the ominous doorpost.


Quiet silence surrounded me,
Sad lowered eyes refused to look up at me.

A sudden gust of wind,
Brought traces of noise from outside.


In no time was a flurry of stones pelted on the windows freshly painted,
Gun shots and fire – hearing which my mother fainted.


Hours went by as we stayed securely in,
Hoping it would stop and we would save our skin.

 

The night brought with it a silence so eerie,
I heard my father step into my room with eyes bleary.

The night was long with stories of attacks ghastly,
Of lives lost and families ruined.


Of women violated,
Kids killed and mutilated.


The reason for years of safeguarding,
Now clearly stood at my face staring.

 

Clutching my blanket close to myself,
I looked at my father’s retreating poor self.

Blood seemed to gush from my veins,
And the brain threatened to hold the reins.

 

Sleep eluded . . .
Thoughts crowded . . .


As the clock struck six,
I tip-toed down the staircase.

 

Looking back at my loved ones,
Would weaken my resolution.

I looked ahead and opened the latch above my head,
Taking a deep breath I slipped out . . .

 

Beyond the doorpost . . .
Into the darkness that my mother had guarded me against, the most.

There is danger out there, my love
You’re safe in here!

 

 

(P.S. Written from the viewpoint of a youngster in a violent conflict zone of war and extremism)

INTO THE LIGHT

The day I was born you called me princess,
You laughed when I cooed, you jumped to see me stand,
You held my hand when I fell and fell,
You were my first teacher and saw me through good and bad.

You saw me grew, but to you, I am always tender,
You cried for my pains and overwhelmed by my tiny success,
You drove me to school and “kiss me before bye” was your rule,
You were so thoughtful and cheerful, and to you, I am the most beautiful,

I was a naughty child and confused girl who frequently needed an aid,
And you were always there to guide your little mermaid,
Never know what’s trouble cause of your care,
And you gave me many memories to share.

When all the hope seemed to be gone,
You were my shining beacon and gave me strength to carry on,
Many times you embarked on official trips leaving me sad,
But when I am in your arms, I am always glad.

You enriched our lives with your care and love,
And for which I can never express how much I owe,
To help those in trouble, you always had a way,
And your job got a special pay.

Till that unfortunate day, everything went so well,
And I never knew even the meaning of the word HELL,
If I knew that would be the last day, I would see you walk out of the door,
I would have hugged you more and more,
Since you are gone, I tried so hard to show nothing is wrong,
But deep inside I know without you how I can never be strong.
I yearned for your hug, your words and your kisses all these days,
And I tried to speak to you one more time in a million ways,
That uneventful night I heard you cough,
But little I know that’s the end of my laugh.

I never had any bitterness for God in my heart,
But now, in my life, I still struggle for a new start,
All I wanted to see you step out of that hospital my dad,
But all those doctors failed attempts made me mad.

It was hard to accept that you will be missed,
But I felt your skin so cold as I kissed,
I heard people saying “its okay he became old’’,
But how can I ever say that I lost my “precious gold”.

Days months and years passed since you left,
But the pain in my heart never left,
Each day I kept watching the infinity,
And living each day with uncertainty.

I asked God for your love again, one last miracle,
And I kept waiting for the answer from the oracle,
There was always dawn after dusk,
And little I know, I just needed to ask.

One fine day, I felt your tender touch again,
And I know it was the flutter of an angel’s wings,
God answered my yearning prayer,
And again He made me happier.

Now I know I am being watched and not alone,
All the sadness and despair is gone,
Dad, you never failed me before,
And from now on I will never fail you for sure.

As a father, you gave me life, strength, happiness, and everything,
And I won’t let it go for anything,
One day the world will sing about my success so loud,
And I am sure that I will make you so proud.