the story of ori

a dog! should we adopt one?
the kids had been asking
we had thought about it too
but it seemed a little daunting

would it be a lot of work?
we'll clean her poop
they said with a smirk
and then we went into a loop

going back and forth a bit
with one of us feeling unsure
her reasons were many, all legit
but he, he was sure

sometime around then, i chanced upon a post
of a goofy looking cutie, with eyes the colour of toast
a black and white body and one floppy ear
she looked so perfect, and out went my fear

it felt just right, was she the one?

to show to the family, i wanted to run
i hoped that they would feel exactly the same

and be even more excited when i told them her name!

what's she called, they asked with glee

oreo i said even more excitedly!

i said to the kids that they could change it up

no it's cute, no need, it suits the little pup!

so we set up a time to go and meet her

june 12 post lunch is when we greeted her

i was nervous, but they didn't seem to be

felt like they had decided, you see

we met her at the park at her foster home

wagging her tail and bounding along

she was so friendly and she was so free

we knew that our lives had changed immediately

she walked with us and got into the car

oh she enjoyed her ride even though it wasn't far

excited and thrilled, were we all that day

our love had multiplied in so many ways

it's been six months since she came home to us

yes there have been times when i have cussed

when she chewed up spectacles, wallets and toys

all the while looking extremely coy!

she knows she can get away with this and that

she just rolls over for a belly rub and pat

oreo aary kumar is her full name

ori, my third munchkin, she became

permanence

one week since i fell,
the scrapes and bruises have healed.
scars, old and new, stay.

wounds

oh come on
it's not so bad
it happens all the time
and it will happen again
it's just a small scrape
and a little bit of blood
it's not so bad
i say

his eyes well up
even more than when he came home
his lips quiver
and his voice shakes
it's small but it hurts so badly
and it's bleeding so much
you don't know how I feel ma
he says

i've fallen a lot, and i know how it feels
so bear with it just a bit
a little medicine, it won't sting
really, it won't
i've used it a lot
you're so brave, come on
i say

aaaahhh it hurts
you lied ma, it stings
you don't know how much it hurts
no I'm not brave
don't touch it
just leave me alone
he says

and i do, i walk away

lost in my thoughts, i wander the aisles
lost in my thoughts, i check off my list
lost in my thoughts, i pay the bill
lost in my thoughts, i step out of the store

and thud!

too lost i was, i paid no heed
to what was on the floor
bags, purse and more scattered around me
a sharp pain, one that i had forgotten
and a smear of blood that wouldn't stop
and a heavy feeling, one that i can't explain
is what I took back home

the stinging didn't go away
neither did the bleeding
and the worst part was
that the tears didn't stop
i told myself all that I told him
and i did to myself all that i did to him
but it wasn't enough
it wouldn't go away

i thought of something then
about memories and remembrance
how fleeting they can be
and about hurt and pain
how fresh they can be

maybe what we need
is hugs and commiserations
not, despite what's all around,
bravery, or stories of it

he saw my wound, maybe he felt my pain
he called it gross and smiled
it was his turn to put on the meds
and it was mine to cry
he hugged me and I cried some more
but it wasn't in pain this time

resolutions

come december every year we tend to take stock
of the things we set out to do when it was 00:00 on the clock

of the new things that we hoped to try 

and some old things we wanted to modify 

somehow everything seems possible at the start

even those half marathons, not for the faint of heart 

but as the months go by the optimism is faded

leaving us only more and more jaded

12 months go by with another 12 to follow

should we make a new list today or wait until tomorrow 

why does this happen at the start of every year 

january arrives and fills us with fear

because december is just a few months away 

and the cycle will repeat until the end of day

George Michael - Untitled

George Michael was my first pop star crush. The image of him with a blue jersey, longish hair and arms crossed is so vivid in my mind--my first poster. His music played incessantly at home, in the car and everywhere else possible. 'Faith' was an oft-hummed and whistled tune in the house, even by my parents. When my friends and I listened to the album, I turned down the volume (a bit) to 'I want your sex'. 'Ladies and Gentlemen' was the last album I bought, and 'Jesus to a child' was my favourite, if I could actually choose one. Hope, in times of despair and sadness.

On a somewhat recent trip home, I found a faded and torn life-size poster that my parents had gifted me for a birthday--torn jeans, white vest, bracelets, stubble, aviators, leather jacket slung on the side and staring away at a distance with a smile. Ah, I wish I had taken a selfie with it.

He was sexy, he was cool and he had a fantastic voice that held a note time and again oh so brilliantly!

All things past, for he is no more. 2016 turned out to be his last Christmas after all.  

And what have I learned 
From all this pain 
I thought I'd never feel the same 
About anyone 
Or anything again

But now I know 
When you find love 
When you know that it exists 
Then the lover that you miss 
Will come to you on those cold, cold nights

When you've been loved 
When you know it holds such bliss 
Then the lover that you kissed 
Will comfort you when there's no hope in sight

Your music will always comfort me. mwah.

I'm missing some letters

im trying to get te keyboard to work but it ust doesnt

all o a sudden te letters begin to appear on te screen

and makes it look like i’e been making typos on purpose

ow strange

ow strange

ow strange

ow strange

im not cray! Im typing ow strange until te begins to appear

tat’s all

im not mad

im ust persistent

i ust keep trying

no its not cooperating

i dont know wat to do now

i need to use te letter

or so many tings

but isn’t an ot-used letter you know

i was reading a page on a website and realised tat isn’t used muc

not as muc as te owels or r s and t

wy is tat

a sudden tougt enters my ead

sould i paste tis into my blog

to tell you ow i’e spent te last 3 minutes?

Typing away wit purpose

but to no avail?

Oh yay! V worked! Which means H will too! and z!
Yes!!!!

now fill in the blanks :) 

crazy little thing called love

it comes in many forms

yet, we struggle to understand it

an ideal version is what we look for 

one that fits the norms

that have been ingrained in us

a perfect other, a soulmate

someone who understands everything

who gets us in and out

right from the first date

isn't that what the movies say

not just the movies, but books too

and music, even those who rock

and comics, posters, cards and more

reinforce that this must be true

can we blame ourselves for believing it

but what happens to the rest

who have loved us and who still do

in their own way without definition

a way that, in us, brought out the best

all thanks to the multiplicity

of thoughts, feelings and experience

of what they've learnt and seen

in a gentle voice that doesn't judge

and to converse, is ever so keen

where do all these connections go

why do they get lost

is it because we sometimes pull each other 

so far apart that there is a cost

a toll that leaves us drained over a period of time

all because we want to possess, and feel, "they're mine"

also because we're louder

and supposedly mentally stronger

but are we really that

or are we hiding behind a mask

one that either smiles or looks tough

because both help handle the harshness

oh we've been wearing it long enough

and then one day we realise

the damage this has caused

from closing these other worlds

until at some point, when we are paused

by some circumstance or the other that lets us think, breathe and be

and look at our lives, minus all the certainty

then dawns an understanding

one that doesn't come from books

or movies, posters or cards

but only from taking a good look

at all that's happened in our past

everything that's shaped us

things that we can never change

but things that have made us

it's us, and them, and so many more

that we need to forgive for our own sake

it isn't easy, but what else do we do

so we don't make the same mistake

and more important so that we may find

the spirit that seems long gone

the one that was shaped by many

the one that will never be alone

can we bring back these worlds, one by one

back into our lives

and start slowly on the road to find

dare i say, sanity and a love that doesn't bind

rainy, with a ray of sunshine

dull, dark, gloomy and grey
in more ways than one
that's what started off her day
oh, how she longed for some sun

two little munchkins
under the weather
rough night resulting in
a sleep deprived mother

such a bad start
that even the third was naughty
she well played her part
but only out of necessity

she wanted to scream
she was so beat
she was tired and cranky
that it felt like a feat
to get through the day

but then she thought
that this was an opportunity not often got
just the munchkins and her

so her sleep she fought
and a hot coffee she got
and let the day unfold without a plan

all cuddled up under the covers watching a movie
sans snacks this time, oh for recovery
chit chatting and shooting the breeze
with her little muchkins throwing in an occasional sneeze

and then it was time for music and games
boy did it fly by, she wanted more of the same
for this precious time, time at home
she hardly got with them, almost never all alone

she wondered how they felt, were they bored at all
did they humour her or enjoy it, even if only just small
and so today went by, with a little of this and that
what will tomorrow bring, a repeat perhaps

she sees them growing up and feels melancholy
but only at times, she's mostly jolly
she's proud and happy that they are how they are
her little munchkins, but already ready to fly far

It's easier to get a divorce than to renew a minor's passport post-divorce!

I read a post on The Wire about the humiliation women face when they want to remove their spouse's name from their passports after going through a divorce. I went through a similar experience while renewing my minor child's passport after having gone through a divorce.

The Passport Seva site is quite well organised with links to most bits of information such as required documents, appointment dates, and Passport Rules and Acts among others. It lets one upload all their documents ahead of time, pay online and schedule an appointment as well. What it also unfortunately does, is trick one into believing that the rest of the process will be as smooth.

There are three stages to the passport application process of which the first two are 'outsourced'. IT service professionals verify, scan, snap and file away all the necessary documentation before one can move on to meet the passport officials from the government. While they are efficient at what they are trained to do, they are unaware of the formalities that the passport process itself mandates, especially in cases like mine--single parent who is also sole custodian of two children. In non-legalese, this means that my children will not need their father to sign off on their passport application--which is a standard process otherwise followed--because he had waived off his rights as their custodian after our divorce. There is a form, Annexure G, that is specifically for this purpose and I had this at the ready as well.

Armed with everything, I made it through the first two stages with not as much difficulty as immense delays. Glad to see my token number flash, my joy was short-lived. It was that particular passport officer's lunch time, but he couldn't reassign me to another officer as it wasn't protocol. After a 45-minute wait, he came back, asked for my documents and went through them cursorily until he reached Annexure G. He looked up at me and said, "You're divorced?" and I said, "Yes." "The father is not a custodian at all?" "No, he's chosen not to be." With a puzzled expression, he asked to see the divorce petition where this is explicitly stated, but he was still not convinced. He asked more questions about the details clearly stated in the petition, even though it wasn't his place to do so. Finally, he returned all the documents and reassigned me to another official who, supposedly, had some experience handling cases like mine. Murphy's Law or what have you, but it turned out to be his lunch time as well when it was my turn to meet him.

So another 45 minutes went by, and a conversation similar to the one with official one happened upon his return from lunch, but he made some notes in the system and told me to meet the Assistant Passport Officer (APO). So there I was, in line for the third time in a span of 3 hours, waiting to meet the APO. Luckily, she didn't go to lunch when it was my turn, but the conversation turned out to be much the same. I had wrongly hoped that a woman might empathise, but I felt judged at every stage of all those conversations which finally ended in her saying that she couldn't authorise the renewal and that I had to meet the Regional Passport Officer (RPO) in Koramangala who would take the final call on this.

By this time, I was livid. I had been in line with my 6 year old since 9 am. It was 3 pm and we had nothing to show for it except three annoying conversations and a cranky child. And I had all documents down to a T! If the outsourced folks had been better briefed, I could've been on my way out soon as the picture and biometrics stage was finished, saving me about 4.5 hours! I had no choice but to leave the Passport Seva Kendra that day, set up an appointment with the RPO for another day, go through this entire rigmarole of explanations one more time until the passport was finally granted. But it didn't end there. At the police verification, I had to explain all this one more time while the policeman in charge talked to his colleague in Kannada about my divorce when all he was supposed to do was to verify the address.

This was more than a year ago and now, unfortunately, it's time for me to renew my other child's passport. I'm telling myself that I should expect nothing. After all, a year isn't much time for any change, is it? If anything, a process change is possible but a systemic change? Hah!

I hope Part two of this post has a happier ending. 

insanity

sticking together through plenty, but feeling stuck,
physically side by side, but mentally so far apart,
forged by commonality, but equally split by it,
in sync sometimes, but completely lost otherwise,
that's life apparently, and that's what we must endure.
or so we're told.

isn't that insane?
apparently not.

insane is something else.
it's if we don't plan but live in the moment,
it's if we find liberation in difference,
it's if we fight for a cause, one that may not only be our own,
it's if we express, but quietly,
it's if we feel, but gently,
it's if we question without accepting blindly,
and it's also if we accept openly without judging.
we are the insane ones, the ones that need to be cured.

and there is always a cure, or so it seems.
happiness.
superficial, easy, stuff,
an escape, a distraction, a hobby or a class.
but these things will, at some point, pass.

and then we'll be back to reality.
but what reality? whose?
the loud one or the real one?
the majority's or the minority's?
the one we've been taught or the one that we see?
the one that's fast or the one that we feel?
binaries, alas.

we need more.
more spaces, more acceptance, more love, more time, more conversations.
not more stuff and not more rules.

insanity is dead, long live insanity.