The Room…A Cherished Memory

That dark dusty room, always closed
With no chinks to peep inside
Children of the house often conspired
To enter, to explore… but how?

Everyday they made new plansold-world-rustic-wooden-door-with-bolts-and-padlock-399x600
Waited patiently to steal the keys
What would be the right time?
To give shape to their adventure!

Would it ever be possible?
With grandma keeping a close eye,
Supervising all the time
All the happenings of the day.

The room was right in the middle
Difficult to sneak in
Even during long afternoons
Or late at night which was scary!

Little Lovely had a plan
To enter one Sunday
But who would steal the key
From that dreaded drawer!

No child had an access to that drawer
None of them had ever dared
To defy the orders of the house
To keep away from the keys!

Who would listen to those orders?
When the promises of exploring
Guided the dreams of each other
When outshining was the sole aim!

With key already in her pocket
Little Lovely had already accomplished
The first step and proved
She was the smartest of the bunch!

The day was not far
The day all would be busy
With the celebrations of Sonu’s birthday
That was the planned day!

Sonu was told to keep company
Since he was the apple of their eye
The family would hardly notice
The pranks of missing children.

Curiosity drove Sonu away
From the venue of preparations.
Grandma couldn’t contain her worry
She alerted everyone!

The dark room was already open
All the children busy
Engrossed in their long awaited adventure
They were quite fearless!

All the trunks already open
All the pictures bare,
Loud voices, long discussions
Could be heard far!

Unaware of being watched
The children made plans
They needed more days to sneak,
More hours to explore!

The family elders watched amused
None of them balked
The children were given free access
To open the room everyday!
© Balroop Singh.

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A Journey

You have always robbed meHope, positivity
Of my happiness, my triumph
Weakened my strength, my confidence
Rubbished my care, my concern
Hurt my most cherished memories.
 
Created a world for yourself
Beyond my reach…
My love can’t reach there anymore
Your incredible indifference
Could reach me… I’ve absorbed it.
 
But you have also given me
A flight of fantasy
To detach…to disengage
And enter my own exotic realm
Embark on a journey of my own…
 
I am immersed in a strange light
Streaming through me
Sending the waves of forgiveness
Spreading the message of love
Unconditional…absolute.
© Balroop Singh.

You can click on Sublime Shadows of Life by Balroop Singh to read more such poems.

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Learning To Smile

I hate to say I miss youlearning to smile
No tears can ever stream down.
These eyes now look at the sky
They find delight in your flight
Your smiling image looms large,
Tears recede instinctively.

Yet those promises haunt, hurt
I know you have forgotten them
I know you would never return
Your flight is beyond my reach.
Your selflessness, a far-fetched dream
Should I regret trusting my instincts?

If I ever meet you again
I’ll just look at your eyes
I will try to smile…
Smile and savor the moment
But we ‘ll live in our own world
A world devoid of anxiety and acrimony

The love that I hold in my heart
May have faded from your memory
Yet I treasure those mirthful moments
Of raising you with a smile
Of giving you wings to fly
You will forever be my dearest child.

© Balroop Singh.

You can click on Sublime Shadows of Life by Balroop Singh to read more such poems.
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Are Memories Timeless Treasures Or Learning Experiences?

Memories

Memories are those endless treasures, which we can keep exploring till eternity and bask in their glory like a slow swinging hammock!

Like Ellen Hopkins, let me ‘open that bottle of memories they’re pouring out like wine, crimson and bittersweet.’

We can completely get immersed the moment they start pouring out!

Heartwarming memories, some sweet, some bitter and vivid, long-lasting and precious…unforgettable fond memories, haunt us if we happen to be sensitive as they have a profound connection with our emotions.

Some memories stand before us with extended arms, ready to embrace us lovingly…the first crush, those hands ensconced into each other’s, those amorous glances…that walk in the rain, huddling together…the touch of your new born child, the most precious possession…myriad such moments are stored effortlessly in the mind’s eye.

Happy memories yearn for those times to return, resist and resent change.

Unhappy memories are tenacious, they get entrenched in our minds retaining their ghost like exterior… they can tear us apart with their piercing, menacing eyes.

Repressed memories get embedded in the subconscious mind despite our best efforts to shove them out.

Sometimes I have to close that inward eye to stop the reel of memories so that they bounce back into the subconscious mind.

Sometimes I hear those loud voices…let go…forget the past…detach, I dump all those memories and choose only joyous ones yet they keep returning whenever the connection emerges.

One of my colleagues had a magical eraser, which didn’t leave any mark on the sheet. Sometimes I wish such an eraser could be invented to expunge unwanted memories from our memory bank!

Have you ever thought why certain memories keep coming back?

Have you ever wondered why certain facts, songs, statements or situations can be recalled without any effort whereas important information or textual details have to be read again and again to recollect them?

Psychologists have called the former as implicit memory and the latter as explicit memory

It is this memory, which is called implicit that holds our moments…moments of delight, of exhilaration, of accomplishment, of pride and countless such emotional instants.

We hold them in high esteem, clutch them as if they were the only possessions worthmemories keeping and derive pleasure out of them during our hours of solitude. We keep interacting with them till we realize their material nature.

They come with a large baggage, which we refuse to give up!

“Forgetting isn’t enough. You can paddle away from the memories and think they are gone. But they will keep floating back, again and again and again. They circle you, like sharks.” – Sara Zarr

They also come with some profound lessons if we are ready to discern and digest:

  • Childhood memories are the strongest reminders of love and affection. Handle children with care.
  • Don’t invest all your emotions in one person. Memories of such a person can drain you.
  • Attachments are aching reminders of fond memories.
  • Dwelling in the past is futile as it retrieves painful memories.
  • All people we meet leave an impact on our life. Avoid negative people as much as you can.
  • Memorable people affect us deeply with their qualities. They give us good memories.
  • Earliest happy memories convey life-lessons of happiness and relaxation, which are picked up from parents and siblings.

Memories are like roses of various hues in their raw form, thorns are the natural attachments unless we scratch them away. I have embraced all the shades and tones and learnt from each one of them. I had no choice.

During the prime of our life we keep gathering them, unaware of the thistles, which start piercing us as we mature.

I have a very vivid childhood memory of a thorn, which pricked me, broke and got embedded in my finger. I came running to my mom, crying and wondering whether she could lessen my pain. She pulled the thorn out mercilessly, without caring to be soft.

I wish this memory too could have been pulled out as harmlessly as that thorn!

But memories are etched permanently on the canvas of our mind.

Do you have such memories? Have they been your learning experiences? I would love to hear your views.

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Balroop Singh.

Why Death Anniversaries Are NOT Emotional Moments

death-anniversary-quotes-meaning-sayings-cs-lewis
Source: pinterest.com

This week I had shared my thoughts about the emotions attached with birthdays from the spectrum of a girl who yearned for care, affection and recognition in a society mired in biases. I appreciate all those who shared their insights and memories.

One of my friends, Hariod Brawn said: “…anniversaries of all kinds may evoke strong feelings within one. For myself, the strongest are those dates on which a loved one died.”

When I felt it was strange, he responded

“Why do you find it strange that anniversaries of deaths are more emotional for me? I think that is a universal and quite natural state of affairs. Is it not?”

I don’t think so. It is not universal.

Death anniversaries could be emotional for those whose loved ones leave after fulfilling all their promises that they had made to themselves and their loved ones.

Death is beautiful only when you have lived your life. When it comes suddenly in the prime of youth, when it leaves behind unfulfilled hopes and desires, it is nerve shattering.

Such death anniversaries become traumatic, not emotional.

Because emotions lie scattered and shattered at such a time, the shards are too piercing, discordant and acrimonious.

Because you are too confused to gather the debris

Because the mourning is deafening, it seems futile, a façade and proves ineffectual

Because a lot of people try to confound you with words that seem hollow and simulated

None of those words soothe you

All that is more prominent and understandable is indignation and exasperation – extreme sense of revolt against destiny or God, whatever you believe in.

When your whole world falls apart, when you have to abdicate the little joys of childhood, when you have to fend for yourself, when your so called well-wishers wait for you to falter and condemn you for your immature acts…

It is at such times that death anniversaries become meaningless.

They bring along harrowing memories and festering wounds, which never heal.

When each day is spent in remembering those lost moments of unfulfilled yearnings,

When each day seems an uphill drive, with steering in the hands of an adolescent,

When faith lies prostrate at the alter of destiny

Such Death anniversaries are NOT emotional; they lose their sheen.

They are distressing; they only afflict pain.

All the positivity and spirituality fades in the face of hunger, which stares at you at such times.

Mourning continues till we meet our loved ones…in Heaven.

IN GRIEF

 Their wailing grew louder
Onlookers stared, consoled
More mourners gathered.
Wailing became unbearable

It hit my heart.
Deep, down the chest
Some pressure, some unseen hand
Oppressed my breath.

Unspoken words, parched throat
Streaming tears
But no wails.
I could not wail. Must I?

Do I need to pretend?
Please! Will somebody understand?
Can you detach me from tradition?
Please leave me alone.

Let me feel that cold touch.
I am STILL in mourning.

This poem is an excerpt from my book ‘Sublime Shadows Of Life’ (available at Amazon.com) Here is the link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EBLWR0A

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Balroop Singh