When Time Runs Out

Why is it only when someone dies
Do we truly realise their worth?
That we didn't tell them "I love you" enough then
But only when we feel their dearth?

Sure we hugged and kissed
And had a jolly good time.
We laughed, cried and played about
While the sands of time trickled by.

We weren't warned that our time was running out
Sure we knew that life isn't always a glass half-full
But we thought we'd grow old together
Why did time treat us so cruel?

To rob someone of life's chances
And experiences of growing old;
To live the life they dreamed of
And watch opportunities unfold.

All the plans planned, all the schedules made,
Now they're left to fade away
They never got a chance to be fulfilled
They never got to see the light of day

Those people leave empty spaces behind
In places you would never think
Harmless places that can now overwhelm
Causing the tears, that away, you try to blink

All their quirks and annoying habits
Now seem dearer than before
"Come, annoy me again. I promise I won't mind",
You despairingly implore.

When you just need to hold their hand again
Or hear the sound of their voice
You'd give anything to have those moments once more
No hesitation, if given a choice.

The smallest of instances can trigger
And make your heart explode;
They are bullets too deep to extract
And it's too heavy a load.

The pictures, the places, the journeys,
The moments together that you spent
Are hard to visit without paying homage
To the memories that they lent.

Tell your loved ones you love them
It's never often enough;
To wake up one morning and never see them again
Is a regretful reality that's tough!

The pain and grief might slowly diminish
The hurt might pass away
Carry their smiles, their dreams, their hopes with you
And bring them to life one day.

To,

To the dimple that didn’t jump in and out

Because it was permanently etched on your face.

To the long lashes we envied

Because it gave your eyes a twinkle that was difficult to trace

To the hugs you gave 

Though your hands didn’t go all the way around

They were large enough to envelop us in your warmth.

To the cute hands

That clasped ours tight and didn't let go 

To the chubby cheeks we each took our chance to pull

Only to realise they weren’t really as soft as they looked

Their looks were deceptive, just like you

Though you were short and tiny

You were anything but tiny

To the largest heart I ever encountered

Ever open to strangers, with a smile, ready with introductions

There was never a place where people didn’t know you

Even after you are gone,

People are still forming connections in your name

(And I’m sure you are introducing us while you’re up there)

To the moments you showed us 'grace'

Even in moments of meaningless mirth

To the leader in you

Who always made everyone feel included

To the matured grown-up in you

Who always knew to say the right things at the right time

To the f.r.i.e.n.d. in you

Who always said ‘I’ll be there for you’ no matter what and was always there

To the artist in you,

Who found beauty in simple things (like sand)

To the photographer in you

Who managed to get the most beautiful candid pictures out of the millions clicked (without consent)

To the director in you

Who knew when she had to take charge to turn chaos into something heart-rending

To the story-teller in you

Who made ‘Game of Life’ one of our most precious memories

To the fighter in you

Who always stood up for what was right

To the baby in you that we couldn’t imagine being married

Because you were our baby

To the mother in you

Who wanted to provide a loving home to those who hadn’t

To the times when we were scared and close to giving up

When you rescued us with your reassurance and prayers

To the times when you were sick

And still made an effort to send a smile through

To the times when we blamed you for stealing friends

And now your friends are all you've left us with

To the times you avoided travelling alone

Only to travel the hardest one alone

To the times I wish I could have with you

To the times I still wish I could hold you

To the times I wish you were here

Shackles on my Feet

They dumped me along with thieves and thugs

A lot that I didn’t deserve

They’ve driven out my very humanness

A quality, I thought, I could preserve

The great and mighty, law and order

Put me behind bars

For merely trying to survive

I’m now covered in a million scars!

What other option did I have?

To feed those hungry mouths

To save their mother, my poor sister

From those drunk and angry clouts?

I spent many years wondering,

Was stealing really a crime?

When you needed a piece of bread to eat

And hadn’t even a dime?

“This isn’t the place for me”,

I tried to state my case,

But they turned a deaf ear on me

And I could only plead for God’s grace.

I was sentenced for three years.

Wasn’t that a bit too much?

The feeling of remorse grew within me

And I longed for a human touch.

The walls around me grew smaller and smaller

At last, I could bear it no more.

I escaped at every chance I saw

And sought freedom’s shore.

But I wasn’t meant to flee so easily

They clapped me back in chains,

The tiny window of hope disappeared

And doubled up my pains.

If Fate it was, I would accept

And learn to pay my dues,

To do what was expected of me,

And cry away my blues.

After more than a decade passed,

They granted me reprieve.

A clean shirt on my hardened back;

And an identity on my sleeve.

My heart thumping hard in my chest

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

After the years in the dark dungeons

I could finally admire the blue skies.

This was the moment I had awaited

The freedom for which I longed

Forward bound, anxiously stepping

Into the world to which I had belonged.

As I stepped out, a million eyes

Would turn around and stare,

I told them I was innocent

But they didn’t so much as care!

No one remembered Jean Valjean now,

I was to be 24601.

I was to have the shadow of my past follow,

And not given the chance of a day in the sun.

I looked around for a decent wage

Declaring honest work,

The moment I handed over my identity

They didn’t need a moment to shirk.

They said I was a parolee after all,

One they couldn’t trust;

Who would employ a former convict?

To live as an outcast now, was a must!

With no pennies to sustain

I asked the inn keeper to spare some food

One look at the yellowed document and he said,

“Do you take me for a fool?”

My crime has been small, my burden heavy

Both did not even compare

With the consequences I had been living with

And those I had been forced to bear.

As nightfall drew near, I looked around

For a place to rest my weary head.

“No!” was the answer I got at every door

“We cannot offer you a bed.”

Drained of life and dignity

I crawled into a kennel as a last resort,

The canine turned human that night.

Bit me, chased me and left me all for naught…

I stumbled through the dark night

Looking for a place to rest

Even a convict deserves some kindness, I thought,

A meagre shelter, at best?

While the last glimmer of hope faded

A dwelling place seemed to appear

A single knock at the door was answered

By an old maid who looked out in fear

“Step aside. Let him in”’

A voice called from beyond

“Don’t you see he’s frail and worn

And needs a shoulder to lean on?”

The old cleric clothed and fed me

And even vacated his humble room

He didn’t know me, yet welcomed me

A needy man, did he presume?

When all were sound asleep but I

I took in my surroundings, a house of bricks

A humble dwelling it appeared

Except for a pair of golden candlesticks

Though I had denied being a thief so far

I was ashamed at the first thought that broke through

“Those candlesticks could give me new life,

No 24601 hitherto.”

Silently, I made it through the night

Arms laden, planning the sale

Guilt-ridden though I was

I couldn’t afford to leave a trail

As dawn and the next county drew near

The authorities accosted me

They heaved me all the way back to the cleric

And asked, “Are these candlesticks your property?”

I didn’t want to be 24601 again

Living that life was hell

This time, I really was a thief, I was dishonest,

I could almost hear my death knell!

“Yes, I gave them to him,” the cleric replied

With a kindly smile that shrouded the wrinkles

“He needed them more than I”

And dismissed them with a twinkle.

As they parted, on my knees, I fell,

Sobbing with tears of relief

“I don’t deserve your saving grace,

I am a dishonest thief.”

“Every sinner can be forgiven”,

Came his gentle reply.

“I would never be able to repay you

Until the day I die,” said I.

“Pass on this act of kindness

To another person in need.

The greatest trees that branch out

Begin with a tiny seed.”

I swore to him, to myself and God,

From this vow I would never retreat

To practise kindness in word and deed

Finally free of shackles on my feet.

Blest with a Bundle of Joy

Little eyes, little toes
Little fingers, little nose

So fast asleep
Oblivious to the world,
Holding fast to those dreams
In tiny fists curled.

Your chest moves up and down
Like waves upon the sand
Gentle, safe, secure,
In your dear mother's hands.

There suddenly comes a sniffle
And the cutest little yawn.
Your mother's sun settles with you
As with you, comes her dawn.

We all look on enviously
At those deliciously long lashes
As you blink open to us
And, on your face, a smile flashes.

Toothless, though it is
It brings in such delight,
So infectious, it spreads around the room
It travels faster than light!

You seem more precious than a diamond
As we gingerly pass you around
So wondrous to behold, so fragile,
So much hope, in you, abounds.

As you cuddle into our arms
We take a nice, long whiff
The most comforting fragrance in the world
And we're tempted one more sniff.

Your crown fits into the palm of my hand
As I gently sway you to sleep,
Your mother sings you your first lullaby
Drawing you into a slumber deep.

Little fingers, little toes
The sweetest dreams may you see
When your little eyes close.

Scarred

Do you have any scars?

Do you hide them?

Do you proudly tell their stories

Or do you deny them?

When they are mentioned

Do you brush their truth aside?

Would you rather pull up that collar

Than talk about something you despised?

Do the scraped elbows and bruised knees

Remind you of blissful childhood?

Or was it youthful adventure

That didn’t turn out the way you thought it would?

A glance at some of those scars and you flinch;

Yes, they were not mere grazes.

Those gashes went deep, they burned and throbbed,

Those were unforgettable phases.

Each scar has a past, a history,

That etched its mark on your present.

The tears and lesions filled in

But the emptiness they left are still unpleasant.

No matter how black and blue they look

Or hurt those memories you repressed,

Those scars will heal along with time

And maybe, someday, they'll be caressed.

Those scars are proof that you've overcome

They mean you outlived those times

They are beautiful, they are you

They deserve the spotlight, a chance to shine

The time has gone, the hurt unhurt

The wounds have healed and you've survived

The marks they've left are of your strength

Each one of them are lessons archived

Don't hide your scars no more

Put them up as laurels on your shelves

Show them off in all their grandeur,

Cause each of them have a story to tell.

This time, time will tell…

When disaster strikes or people are hurt, they console each other saying, “Time heals all wounds, give time some time, this too shall pass.” Well, that may be true, but when time itself is wounded, can you guarantee the same? Will I ever heal or be able to move on?

Created in 1887, I am part of a great architectural landmark in a Victorian influenced Gothic revival style. A silent bystander to numerous events since then, I have observed myriad kinds of people in their patience and impatience, happiness and sadness, reuniting with their loved ones or watched them leaved with bated breath while embarking on a long journey. I have been a spot of convergence for thousands of people. With just a glance I fulfil their need, so no one really gives me a second look.

One fateful night in 2008, was so gruesome that it can still make me miss a beat. Though I was disregarded as a witness, I, too, have a story to tell. Two young men walked in to the passenger hall nonchalantly and started firing at people with their AK-47 rifles. They didn’t seem to care who collapsed under their gunfire. Those who ducked or tried to escape succumbed to grenades. As my hands struck each of those 75 minutes of gunfire, I witnessed more than 50 people fall lifeless with over a 100 injured. Those 75 minutes were the hardest to tick by. They turned this architectural landmark into a landmark of a massacre.

I watched while a little girl was shot in her leg, crippling her for life. I watched while people breathed their last and still begged their loved ones to hold on and not give up. And I watched while those two men continued to strike them down without remorse, regardless whether man, woman or child. In that mayhem, I witnessed a glimpse of humanity when a railway announcer saved lives by alerting passengers to leave. I watched while the terrorists used every minute of the police’s inaction to their advantage. I watched while the bullets engraved their marks into the walls of this tremendous structure. I watched the floors covered in blood.

Though my hands kept moving, time seemed to stand still for every victim. Later, I watched the limp bodies of those unfortunate, unsuspecting people being carried away from that bloodbath. The blood was mopped away; the wounded walls plastered; the videos wiped clean. They have been replaced with new trains, new people and new journeys while I still relive those memories with every tick.

A silent spectator, a timekeeper, I will have to do the job I was made and meant to do. I’ll just keep ticking away. I will never be able to forget the misfortune I witnessed, but I realize it is finally time for me to unravel and rewind back to those terrifying hours in 2008.

If you listen closely you might feel those seconds in every second.

  

Keeping watch over you

Picture Credit- Eden Fernandes

When the heavens put up a show

While here on earth
Life seems to be at a standstill
Calm, serene, unmoving, immovable
Stagnant
Stuck in our comfort zones,
Stuck in our rigid routines
Completely unaware of the world outside the world we created for ourselves
If we stop to take a moment
And just look at the skies
You see the heavens rallying for us
Swiftly, smoothly the clouds race by
Completely unobserved by our ignorant eyes.
This act of beauty is not reserved for meteorologists or scientists alone.
But we fail to look up
To pause our busy life
To observe a moment that'll never return
To see the clouds scurry past each other
I wonder if those wisps of vapour whisper amongst themselves
About how blissfully unaware a human race we are
They call for our attention
They grow grayer and darker
They thunder mysteriously
A sudden stroke of lightening sends a bolt through our hearts
Finally we look up to the heavens
While they bless us with little pearls of happiness.
We looked up in time for the final act but missed the rest of the show.