"an excerpt from the imaginary diary of a starving child from ethiopia".

"soon the wails will take over the hysterical laughter and the tears of laughter will turn into tears of sorrow".

A Dark Memory

My bony naked knees banged and rattled

My body trembled

But no one saw nor heard

Nor smelled my fear

Though they stood

All five of them

Around me

In merry chattering

While she knocked the back of my head

Hard

With her knuckles

Urging…

Nay threatening..

For her banging got harder

The more I delayed.

And none of them

Strange…..

None of them saw

My trembling body and knocking knees

And her knuckles knocking me on my head

Urging me to go

To the neighbors

To see

If her visiting neighbor friends baby

Was well and asleep

And then to come back and report

So they may grab

A few more moments of merriment

And laughter

The five of them

Who stood around me.

But my legs

refused to obey me through my humiliation.

I stood

Rooted

Legs trembling

Knees rattling

As memory of yesterday returned

Same time

Same situation

The summer afternoon occasion of neighborhood bonhomie’s

When I had meekly obeyed

Her admonishments

And swiftly taken off on my lithe 11 year old bare legs

To carry out her command

To look up the infant if she was asleep

And as I bent over the crib

For a close look at the sleeping baby

Huge hands grasped me from behind

Startled I looked up

At the towering figure

With massive dark mustache

Quivering with excitement

Red veins criss-crossed the whites of his eyes

He pushed me on the bed

And his hands roamed

Over my trembling

Stiffened body

And then his little daughter came in -

And said ‘oh – he does this to me too’

In that moment of distraction

I fled

Like only a hare would from hunting dogs.

That was yesterday.

Today

My legs refused to obey me

Through my public humiliation

As my sisters knuckles hit my head

Harder and harder.

And my mother

Glared at me

With disdain.

They were talking in praise of him

calling him with qualities of

'Ram' - the sacred persona whose idol stood in the puja room.

Courage

Courage

Warm tingling on the brow

A clenched fist

Between the breasts

nestled in my soul

Then the fist loosens

Courage melts

To a thick gel

Transparent

Sticky

Slimy

Like the fluid of an infested wounds

Oozes

From every pore.

My brow is cold

Numb

Frozen.

I have learnt to live

From one moment to the next.

From one day to the next.

Sisters

They were three

Came before me

Never let me forget

Imposing

Demanding

Bullying

They made sure nothing belonged to me

My mother

Nay their mother

My memories

had no place

not In their narrations.

If they were fifteen

I dared not say I was 5, even though I was.

If I bled

I dared not ask

And they did not care to tell

The  meaning of the blood.

They reveled in my ignorance

They drew joy in my pain

They found power

through my suffering.

We came from the same womb-

They were my sisters.

Death 3

Take me

Into your warm embrace

Away from this glitter and glare

Choking silences

Stifling  air

Into  dark  nothingness.

Death 2

Death – why does it not seduce me

But walks by as if I do not exist

While I stand – naked

Stripped bare

of every gesture I wore

Every word I spoke

taken away

by

foes

who had come with dazzling smiles

to stay with me as friends

Only to leave me behind

alone

In noisy silences.

Father my beloved father
Thank you for giving me wings
and the lightness of being

Mother my darling mother
thank you for pumping the wind
beneath my wings
so I could soar in the skies
unfettered.

Left I am
when on ground
with tears in my eyes
and the sorrow of your absence.

Soon replaced with the memories
of your fragrances and sounds
and images
swirling in my eyes
teasing my nostrils and humming in my ears

making me drowsy
blissfully heavy with sleep

Mother my beloved mother.
Father my darling father.
You live in me
you never went away.
You have just stopped
giving me answers
so I must find my own.

In the Last 10 Years she has become a successful 'Social Worker'.

In the mid 90's, while I was engaged in my pursuits as a Graphic Designer, juggling with a new mother hood and trying to create a niche in my profession in a small town, I encountered three women that changed the direction in my life in too many ways. All three came from entirely different backgrounds and while two had deliberately chosen to leave their paternal families, one had been abandoned. My natural instincts, partly as a designer and partly as a concerned citizen of a society in conflict I extended a helping hand to clear the bumps and creases in their life. Out of the three, one took it’s toll on me both professionally and personally throwing everything in my life into a turmoil. It began with the innocent act of accepting a request to help the woman in designing a diary she had been struggling to make since days and weeks. After a few encounters with her, I was given to feel that I was dealing with a woman in depression, extremely lonely and isolated in a new town, struggling to find her feet. She clung to me for help in every sort of way – extremely persuasive to put it gently, but many of her actions were emotionally violent, crude and crass acts of desperation. What was different about Nimisha though, was that, unlike the other two, who had allowed their depression to make them entirely helpless, this woman was struggling to be independent. It was this spirit of hers that I allowed myself to be talked in to helping her set up her woman's organization for the next nearly 6 years. Being a designer with artistic sensibilities, ill equipped to deal with cases of depression and violence as belted out by her, never a politician, what transpired in those 6 years, took me another 10 years to overcome that ordeal. What was most traumatic to overcome was the realization, that for six years, I had allowed a politically ambitious woman of unknown credibility, doing social work, but treating people as her whipping horse, spreading ungrounded, unfounded statements that were taken out of context, as ‘facts’.

Being the eternal optimist, battling with my own now sinking morale, for 10 years I struggled to keep my head above the waters of depression, battling along, juggling my life personally and professionally. During the course of this journey, I made important discoveries in the personal, professional and spiritual spheres.

In this journey, I discovered beautiful men and women who are my family.