Good Enough

I used to dream that we’d be a family,

Once again, But then I was faced with reality

You weren’t there by my side,

and my life ain’t nothing but a tragedy.

 

I used to dream that I’d be whole again

But how can that happen in this world of pain,

How can I rise above it all?

When I ain’t got the strength to even break my fall?

 

I go to bed every night, feeling the same way

I’m tired with myself and just how I behave

When there ain’t no spark, how can I rage a fire?

Everytime I look in the mirror, I see a liar

 

I used to think nothing could ever touch me,

That your protection would always cushion me

But my naivete came at a price,

Coz life made me pay a fee.

 

Every promise said that, “you got me”

And Every hug meant that we’ll always be

Together, that makes us strong

But twin you just pushed me back and broke free

 

What do I gotta do to get your love?

I keep trying but you always shove

Me away and I know I should learn

But all you ever do is watch me burn

 

I’ve paid all my dues, gave away all my stuff

Moved across the world for a chance to earn your love

We were born together, heart, body & soul

How do I get you back? How can I be good enough?

 

Sibling rivalry and fallouts are a serious problem in this day & age. I recently witnessed one of the worst sibling fallouts I could have ever imagine and my heart goes out to the twins who were born together but now their life choices have pulled them apart. I’m praying for them and their situation brought my words to life. I hope they reconcile soon.

 

xx

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In pursuit of a Prince (Chapter 1)

Ever since she could remember, she always figured her husband would be like one of those guys you see in American movies. Charming, suave, well spoken, well groomed, tall. Handsome wasn’t necessarily on the list but well-groomed, well-spoken and charming trumps good looking any day. She’d daydream about him brewing coffee in the morning; making breakfast on weekends, even cooking on weekdays sometimes. An Indian girl’s American dream! Oh wow! More than anything else, it was the cooking she really looked forward to. It wasn’t as if she was a bad cook or an inexperienced one, quite the contrary but she just liked the idea of being cooked for. A dream of sorts for her, we could say. So she dreamed and dreamed and dreamed about her perfect man and his amazing cooking skills or atleast the idea of him. After all, a girl can dream, can’t she?

As it is in all Indian households, when she was old enough (atleast by their perception) to get married, her parents began looking for alliances. They weren’t closed minded people, oh no they most certainly were not! They, in fact kept asking her if she had a special someone in her life. She kept responding “No yet”. She said she was waiting..waiting for ‘The One’. She told them that she wasn’t going to go looking for him but she would sit back and let him find her. She was convinced that match making activities and online marriage portals wont lead her to him. He was going to carve the path that would lead to her. She had convinced herself that this was how it was meant to be. But you can’t really explain concepts such as these to Indian parents, can you? So what do you do? You give in and you hope that they inadvertently end up creating the bridge that will lead Him to find you.

Being caring and loving parents that they were they listened to her entire monologue on finding The One. They contemplated and subsequently confirmed that she did in fact want to get married, but her reassurances just confused them more. But she said, she wanted somebody who could cook. Parents being parents, they didn’t think it was as critical a criterion while selecting a possible husband for their precious darling. And I mean come on! What are you even supposed to say? “Our daughter won’t marry you unless you cook?” That would just sound like our daughter can’t cook. People will just think we didn’t teach her anything. She will come across as spoilt. We can’t risk that! Oh no no no!

So they searched and they met and they introduced their darling to several lovely boys, but she didn’t show too much interest. She returned from each meeting with a new deal breaker every time. The first one was too obsessed with his work; the next one was too obsessed with his looks. The third one seemed to love boys more than girls, and the fourth one smelt funny. The fifth, sixth and seventh were either too educated, too laidback or still connected to his parents with an umbilical cord of sorts. No! No! No! This was not working and she did not want to do it anymore. None of them were right and none of them were Mr.Right. The one she was looking for was just lost, needle in a haystack…you think? Her parents thought it best for her to find somebody on her own. Disappointment turned into sadness and soon depression, and bordered on thoughts like maybe she was being way too picky than was acceptable, maybe she didn’t know what it meant to recognize somebody for their inner beauty? Maybe she didn’t even know what went into deciding what was right for her in terms of a partner? Nobody trained her on the art of selecting a life partner, so how could she possibly be expected to know? There needs to be a rule book on things like this!! Ugh..!! But even amongst all these depressing thoughts, there was one underlining feeling, actually more of a faith now that you think of it. Faith that made her believe, that she was going to find him. He’s literally right around the corner, and when she finally meets him, she’ll recognize him for who he is: The One.

To be continued…

 

Promise Never To Untie- By Hope

A poem on friendship and the love and tenderness between friends…

 

 

The tender words are spoken

Each body and soul bared

Told secrets over endless days

Often doing more than dared

 

New world beyond my door

With intrigued and intensity

Now we have shared our hearts

A bond now made it permanently

 

Facing our days made easier

Despite any type of weather

Each other’s heart felt deeply

Both happy we stuck together

 

It took us little time and effort

The bonding as strong as glue

I now promise never to untie

The strings I have tied with you

 

The understanding of each other

Breaths to take, we breathe the air

As the relationship interchanges

Knowing our loving hearts are there

 

Now we are never left on the outside

Lovingly enter each others domain

Smiling. laughing and forever teasing

But forever friends we then became

Friends

The uncredited sisters

Sometimes in life you come across people who are as different from you as night and day yet you connect in the most inexplicable way. There literally seems to be a string from your heart to theirs and that’s just amazing.

Some women in my life have that connection with me. I call them my friends but they truly are my sisters. Each and everyone of them has, at some point of time in life held my hand, wiped my tears and reassured me that it’s going to be alright and told me just what I wanted to hear, “Hey! Life sucks… and that’s a fact! Forget it and lets go have some fun“. Some of these women I have known for over a decade, some just a few weeks, but all of them are special and close to my heart.

I cannot truly say that men experience this feeling of sisterhood and solidarity the way women feel it, but if they could, would they view women differently? I always thought my blood and biological sister was the only one I would ever have and that was just the end of it. But I realised, quite later that you don’t need to be related by blood to be sisters and brothers, you can be sisters of the heart, the soul and the mind.

Every time something wonderful happens and you bow down and give credit to your family: your parents, your siblings, your elder grandma & grandpa, your husband and your kids and so on. How often do you give credit to your friends? And if you feel such a strong bond with some people, enough that you wonder if you have that kind of bond with people you share your blood with, then why don’t they get the same credit? Even when you know, some of those women are truly and honestly your sisters, in the actual sense of the word?

I say, “Bah! Humbug!” to all these silly notions and rules and everything in between. For me: my sisters are my sisters, blood or not I love you the same. You are by my side, never to leave me and as I have realised it is quite true that “In the cookies of life, sisters are the chocolate chips“. (Author Unknown)

So my dear darling beautiful chocolate chips, I dedicate this beautiful poem to you all, which sums up aptly what I feel.

From one sister to another: “I carry your heart with me” By E.E.Cummings

I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)
I am never without it
Anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)
I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant,
and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart.
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart).
TO MY BLOOD AND BIOLOGICAL SISTER I SAY: “Some sisters only see each other on Mother’s Day and some never see each other their whole lives and even some who will never speak again.  But no sisterhood is like yours and mine… linked by volatile love, best friends who make other best friends ever so jealous” (Patricia Volk)

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