The Ruffled Pages of my Diary

The ruffled pages of this diary of mine are often filled with thoughts when my mind is wandering in unknown locations, the ones I've probably never been to, before. A thousand unspoken secrets lay buried here. It knows all about my scars, my downfalls, those hideous mistakes, times my heart skipped a beat, the glorious victories I boasted of and the ones where I shined secretly, all from the times I've chosen to let out my insides. Scribbled are some descriptions, of the people who've never failed to touch this fragile heart of mine. Those little acts of kindness, hatred of some, disgust towards some, infinite love I have always got, the love of my family and then, people like you.


If I ever were to describe you or people like you in a single word, I'll be perplexed.
What will I say?
A thousand words won't be enough and they ask of one. Lucky are the people who find souls like yours. The infinities inside you, amaze me, just like the spark in your eyes. With every passing day, you rise up in my eyes, that edge of perfection shines brightly. You know, the sort of constellations I can see inside your deep eyes would never be found up in the sky. Those clusters of stars reflect all those things, join all those dots about you. They fetch me the answers my soul seeks. What surprises me more is the quality of my words, my writings, when I have to write about you. These ruffled pages of my diary secretly laugh over it because that perfection is never found otherwise.

Would I ever be able to describe something as beautifully as you?
Well, I doubt.
There is nothing even near to that. People like you are rare, the warmth they carry along with themselves with every step they take, the one each of us seeks is finally seemed to have found by me. Or better, it walked up to me. I can't really find words to describe you, people of your kind. You hold more depth than the beautiful sunrise, the endless crystal lake, the climb on the hills, the first drops of the much awaited rain, Those wonderful bounties are nothing when people like me turn to look around to see people like you standing right next to them.

But There is one thing which fits in perfectly.
Have you ever heard about the idea of "coming home"? You're that to me.
You're my home, my safe place, the solace of my insecurities, my hiding place which somehow gives me strength to face everything. You're home to me, warm and safe. No matter what happens, in the end I'm gonna walk up to you, my solace.

The funny part is, I know that people like you belong to no one, You can't really settle at one place. Your nomadic heart would never let you. One day, its all going to fade away like a far away dream. The mirage of wishful thinking of mine will vanish, the bubble of all the mindless dreaming is going to burst. We'll be on different ways and I might always try to reach you, walk into my home once again. I might find someone of your kind with a striking resemblance but it won't be you. Do we go on and find ourselves another home when our situations change?
We don't.
Home is always the same, my solace would always be you. Seeing you walk away after some days, months, years, or whatever it would be, that one day, all I'd say would be, "I'll never be at home again."

And I sit back wondering, what if you get to see these ruffled pages? Would you go away? Would I have to run away?
But our home, it doesn't abandon us, even when we commit the darkest of sins. And we run back to our Home, we never run away from it. That way, i would always find my way towards you.

I'm Sorry, Ma

It was Mother’s Day, that year. She took a deep breath, trying her best not to cry. She had lost her mother last winter. With a deep regret in her heart, she carried on with her work. There were days she couldn’t believe that her mother was no more. She used to miss her mother, her warmth, her words, everything. At one point, all those things seemed to be irritating to her and now all those things were something she wanted back anyhow. There came the dark, gloomy days when all her hope used to get consumed, she used to feel lost, lifeless. At times like those, she needed shelter and she felt homeless. She used to sit back, at odd hours of the night, thinking about life and death. She never knew that death could move her insides in such an adverse manner. She used to think how death comes to one person and along with that, many relationships, dreams, promises, they all die. With a death of a single soul, a lot of other things die as well. 

Her mother was all she had. Her father died when she was fourteen and since then her mother’s entire world revolved around her. And as she grew up, she learned new things, excelled at them, her priorities changed which often ended up her mother being neglected by her. But never did her mother said a word against it! If someone was happier than her, seeing her excel, it was her mother, who used to stand proud on her daughter’s achievements and encourage her more and more at every step of hers and every decision she took.

She crossed the mirror in her room and glanced at her reflection. The dampness on her cheeks was quite visible. Tears were trickling down her cheeks and her eyes had gone red. She felt helpless, she wanted to hug her mother, the closest one to her since she was born but she couldn’t. She was afraid to die herself but too weak to live completely too. Her life was changing into a hollow shell, devoid of everything, living for the mere sake of it. The walls of her apartment were evidence of her loneliness and her regrets. She covered them all with their old family pictures and the stuff she got from her mother’s house. Only those felt like home to her, the rest of the apartment was just another place she had to live in.

She sat on her bed and closed her eyes, wiping the tears trickling down the closed eyes, swallowing the lump which was formed in her throat. She took a deep breath. Her thoughts took her back to that particular day, she had very well expected that to happen.

“The white snow glistened in the winter sun just like a fresh white page. The trees which were once laden with leaves were now bejeweled with frost. People could actually feel their breath rising in visible puffs. The winter wind was howling, biting rosy skins. The entire sidewalk had been covered with snow. The cold winter which was bitterly beautiful failed to amuse her. The cold sensation was seeping inside her mittens, making her fingers numb. For her, the ground and the sky were looking similar, it was all grey, not a shade different. There was no horizon, just grey. Little snowflakes pranced around her. While some people around her stood and enjoyed the winter beauty, others danced in those snowflakes, there she was, getting uneasy and unappeased about everything around her.

And she saw the illuminated sign of the bus which was coming closer. She waited to board it. She took a deep breath and thanked God that the bus was on time. Because somewhere in the other side of the city, her mother lay on a hospital bed, breathing her last counted breaths, waiting for her daughter to see her once. She wanted to go and hug her mother, feel sorry for all the times she had neglected her. She prayed to God for her mother’s well-being and boarded the bus. The half an hour journey felt torturous. Minutes were not passing easily, her uneasiness was increasing with every passing second. 

She reached the hospital and rushed into her mother’s room. Her mother's deep, sunken eyes lighted up seeing her daughter who was in tears. She tried her best to hide those trickling drops but she couldn’t. The lady in front of her was her mother, the one who knew her way too well, more than she knew herself. She held her mother’s frail hands and took them into hers, kissed them softly. Tears falling down her eyes were now finding their home at her mother’s hand. She knew the moment was coming, it was going to come any second. She wanted to hold her mother as long as she could. She thought of apologizing, for not being a good daughter, but no such words made their way out. She cried and said, “I love you, Ma”. Her mother’s curved lips indicated the happiness she felt after listening those words. And she sat with her mother for a while, resting her head on the bed, near to her mother’s hand. 

After a while, she wiped her tears, her vision had been blurred. Her biggest fear stood true right in front of her. Her mother was no more. Those frail hands couldn’t move anymore, they were lifeless. That little curve was still there, but it had no life in it. Her mother was gone, gone to a better world. And she was left alone, in this dark and cruel world.

And she opened her eyes. Tears were already flowing out of her eyes. And she muttered, "I'm sorry Ma, I really am."