When did I get lost?
~
Was it the day I stopped dreaming, or,
Was it the day I started day-dreaming?
Was it the day I resigned to fate, or,
Was it the day I stopped being one of a kind?
~
Was it the day I set the bar too low, or,
Was it the day I stopped taking risks?
~
Was it the day I took the road more travelled?
Or was all this the same day?
~
The day I lost myself.
~
[February, 2017]
Introduction
It is not particularly surprising to hear about disputes erupting between people, even the closest of them, due to simple matters relating to property. In fact, some of India’s longest running court cases are related to property issues of possession. For instance, the case of a Bengali royal family has been pending for 175 years. The property initially belonged to Raja Rajkrishna Deb, a 17th-century landlord and now over 200 of his descendants are staking a claim. The legalities began in 1833, and now almost two decades later, the matter has reached the Calcutta High Court[1].
I can't believe its true!
That I get to be with you,
To share my heart with you.
I can't believe its true!
That I get to be on this journey with you,
To ride through its ups and downs with you.
I can't believe its true!
That I get to start a new life with you,
To be able to grow old with you.
I can't believe its true!
That I get to love you.
There's nothing more that I wanna do.
[September 2020]
The world has turned upside down. Fear and grief have enveloped the universe. All norms of normalcy and order in life have been toppled completely by a microscopic organism wreaking havoc throughout the globe. It’s a whirlwind of emotions, a cauldron of suffering. I believe Charles Dickens’ opening lines from A Tale of Two Cities somewhat manage to capture and depict the entire array of feelings going about:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.
It’s a time when people are dropping dead from a lack of oxygen. People have literally live-tweeted their journey to death. Social media platforms have transformed into distress helplines. There is no dignity in death either with all of the anguish those left behind are having to face in performing last rites of those who are no longer with us. It’s troubling to think of all the lives that could have been saved… all those people who could still have been here. Every other person you know is reeling from the infection. Those of us spared by the virus are simply languishing in life.