A Moment Before the Send Button …

She paused when she read he is typing,

Words found way on the other end of chat window,

Hear beats raced on both the sides,

But then he hit the backspace key and let the fire mellow.

_______________________________________________

“Let’s meet up buddy for our old time’s sake

Forgetting our recent past.”

A cancel button later that stamped on this initiative,

And the sms lay unnoticed in the inbox draft.

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“It has been long since we have talked

And I thought an email would be a good start”

A pause after this beginning and he hit the backspace key,

And his dad missed the chance to write his part.

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He reached his idol’s twitter handle,

To convey his gratitude, poured out his feelings.

Closed the window since the message was too clichéd.

Seldom reached the words that were genuine, that were healing.

_______________________________________________

Dwelling in inhibitions, living on assumptions,

Think ‘grapes are sour’ and join the fleet.

Let’s take our chance to express ourselves,

So that fate declares the status as ‘Connection Complete’.

Innocent Anxiety

She was a toddler that could only falter without grasping her mother's finger. Her mother helped her trek the stairs of the immobile bus to the top of which the girl saw me seated right at the first seat. One cute smile and she guided by her mother proceeded to take an adjacent window seat. Sooner the mother left to get down from the bus and worried toddler followed her mom. The mom said something in Tagalog, but there are times when communication doesn't need words and I could feel the lady's instructions, "Do not get down from the bus, wait right here. I will be back." The obedient little child stood right at the doorway clutching a side bar firmly while giving some space for the new passengers to usher in. The tumult for me dissolved into a picture taken about 22 years back when I as a kid was holding the bar at the doorway of the train with expressions calling out to someone while my mother right behind me, making sure that I don’t get out of the train held me tightly. I was trying to reaching my dad.

It was the narrow gauge train to Matheran that is often referred to as the "Toy Train". Built during the British imperial times, this train travels at the speed of a centipede thus lagging behind a strolling human. But the sheer size and the charm of this train has a tourist attraction to it even today. I was way too small back then to have a clear memory of the trip, but certain incidents stay vivid. I and my parents got into the train and then suddenly my dad left his seat to disembark from the train to take our picture. My anxiety about him coming back to his seat could not smile for that picture. The wheels of the train then yanked into the motion and the train at the top of the hill began its journey. Worried I ran at the doorway while the uvula at the back of my throat kept shouting in pleads for my dad to come back on the train. The incident remains afresh in my mind since it was accompanied by a pinch that pricked me with a feeling of losing a parent. The tender brain back then had little intelligence that it is less than a child's play to get back on that crawling train. So although the incident enriched me with the knowledge of speed and relativity, the worry that hovered upon me for certain time made a timeless space for itself in my mind. And today makes me realize about all the sleepless nights that I have given to my parents while they stood at the doorway waiting for me to come back home.

Here the girl obedient to her mom’s instructions didn’t step down from the bus and anxiously kept waiting at the doorway while grasping the bar tightly. She was patient with her actions yet anxious in her expressions. And with every pair of shoes entering the bus that didn’t resemble to the ones her mom wore, her anxiety took her to another level. Soon the bus got into motion and yet the girl stood there clutching the bar even tightly. Finally to her relief, her mom got into the bus set in motion with a glass of juice for her daughter. The child all happy then went back to her window seat and smiled happily at every passing car. With a complete and secured feeling she didn’t budge her mom once while enjoying the breeze from the window and sipping the lovely cold juice from her mom’s hands. I was appalled by the strength this girl had while waiting for her mom, there was trust in her actions that said her mom will fulfill her promise to come back, but it certainly accompanied the worry in her eyes that left her insecure. Perhaps this is love …