Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Ladies Compartment
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Unrequited
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Inside your head
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Raindrops are falling on my head
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
2 A.M.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
The Child
I sit down to write. Words have coagulated inside me like a blood clot. They do not flow as freely anymore. But now, if not out of passion, out of sheer boredom, I write.
But I am reassured. Parents have this way of being there without being there. Mine give me the confidence that this playfulness will never leave me. I listen to my father make horribly bad jokes and the twinkle in his eye when he says them. I watch him get tipsy and dance. I listen to his deep throated laugh that is never a rarity in my home. He has pressures that weigh him down at the shoulders. He thinks about money too. But I am inspired that he can take his family to the beach and feel the waves at his feet and remember how it was to be a child. I watch my mother too. How she hugs without reason. How she giggles uncontrollably when we crack a dirty joke. How she squeals and jumps like a three year old when she sees me after months. Her eyes, though lighter with age, have a glitter to them. Even now when we talk about my days in college, she contributes and laughs and relives her days as a child.
When I descend from this boy and girl at heart, how could I suddenly grow up? Impossible. I come from a family of children and it explains why I could never let the careless, wide eyed child go from inside me. I settle with peace. I have hope. All is not lost, and shall not be, as long as the little girl lives within.