You’re Everywhere

Stepped out with dad this morning,

For some grocery shopping and temporarily forgot my mourning,

That was until I saw a familiar blue car,

One that looked just like Baba’s big blue car,

Next, my eyes fell on a newly opened Starbucks outlet,

That caught my breath,

You’re everywhere,

In the dawara of lip smacking filter coffee and on a Starbucks chair,

Even in your death,

You won’t allow me to take easy breaths,

Do you think you’re being fair,

Your son has learnt your favourite swear,

He uses the word liberally,

And quite skilfully,              

Much to the horror of his grandparents,

I blame it on you, the naughty parent,

Who taught him the word in the first place,

Bought your favourite chocolate date today, the one that always brought a smile to your face,

Picked up a Haldiram’s Pani Puri set as well,

It always made your heart swell,

I hate to admit it,

Your nasty chaat eating habit, I’m unable to quit,

Wonder what else I’ve picked up from you,

Only time will tell, without further ado.

Your Toiletries

Your toiletries and your wedding band, the last physical remnants of you,

I spray, smell, snort and bathe in them to have one last whiff of you,

Your shower gel, face wash, shampoo and shaving foam,

Are almost over, thanks to your perennial roam,

But I’m clinging on to them for dear life,

Like a good wife,

Waiting for you to come back,

For I know, you will need to pack them away, in your navy blue travel pack,

I smell the collar of your dark blue formal jacket,

Every night, just before hitting the sack, I do it quietly and without much racket,

These private moments between husband and wife,

Give me a few more breaths to my life,

This is my way of keeping you alive,

Until God decides to drive,

Me up to you,

You must be heaven, where else can such a good man like you go, yet to take your Dune shoe,

The one you wore on the day you died,

My birthday gift to you, a month before you died,

Are you still with me?

Was it you, who walked along with me,

On the beach yesterday morning,

And was it you, who turned on Riaan’s cement mixer truck without warning?

I want to believe it’s you,

My naughty poopie and Riaan’s “bimbi boo boo” 

We love you,

More than the most gooiest, darkest, tastiest, chocolate fondue. 

A Great Husband

You were petrified of swimming pools,

Yet, you happily dove into the deep ocean waters for me to observe a school,

You hated all things Disney and Mickey Mouse,

Still, you took me to Disneyland and shook hands with the legendary Mouse,

I’ve lost track of the number of times you took me to have hot chocolate,

While you drank the restaurant’s terrible tasting black coffee, looking utterly desolate,

To make up for your weekly absence,

Your son and you, indulged in childlike nonsense,

All weekend long,

Until I smacked you both headlong,

You were the best husband and father in the world,

Always remember that, wherever you are, underworld, afterworld or the netherworld,

We lived for you,

And we continue living for you, 

There was never an us, without you,

Riaan and I, love you, through and through,

You will always be his silly baba and my dearest poopie,

In life and in death, so stick around and be snoopy. 

Your Impending Death

Did you have an inkling of your death,

A month, a week, a day or an even an hour before you took your last breath,

I have a feeling you did,

Why else would you take me to the same roads we walked on as kids,

We reminisced about our life together,

We transformed from irresponsible young adults, into mature parents who powered through every weather,

You asked me the most poignant questions,

And I replied with the most ill-timed suggestions,

I just took it for granted, that you will always be around,

Buying a house, buying a car, going on an International holiday, why must I overthink and frown,

About these life changing decisions,

When my husband always had grand visions,

Up his sleeve,

So why did you leave,

Even before fulfilling your BMW dreams,

Your unfulfilled promise to me about taking a week off for our 8th wedding anniversary has my tears flowing down in streams,

Not even a week had passed, since I rubbed ghee on you and pushed you into the fire,

And your “well wishers”, put me through further hellfire, 

Saying, I’ll get re-married and find someone else,

Those who needed an explanation about our sacred love story, deserved only a belt,

But I refuse to stoop down to their level,

Their heads are filled with the devil,

I will always be yours,

Today, tomorrow and into the gloomy unending future years, 

What a chore it is, to live without you,

Can’t wait to settle our son professionally and personally, so that I can quickly find my way back to you,

I no longer belong here,

Each day without you, feels like my heart is being pricked by a spear.  

Your Perpetrators

I saw your perpetrators, clear as day,

I always warned you to stay away,

Your character assessment of people,

Was worse than a sleeping child’s, positioned in fetal, 

Your so called “well-wishers” were merely salivating wolves,

Who used you for your your money, lack of time, peace of mind and knowledge like a pack of hungry werewolves,

Actually, scratch that, even werewolves hunt in packs,

You were such an easy bait, who quickly fell for their traps,

What use was your dual degree, if common sense you so badly lacked,

The odds were always stacked,

Against you and your personal choices,

They didn’t respect you or your myriad voices,

Not once, did you pay heed to my warning,

Thanks to your idiocy, the child and I are relentlessly mourning,

Your senseless death,

I can think of so many other people who should rightfully have no breaths,

Abominations of nature,

Egotistical, useless, brain-dead creatures,

I’m happy I no longer have to feign happiness,

For your sake, to put up appearances, while in reality I could always see through their manipulative craftiness,

You were too innocent and pure,

To see through their suffocating, toxic lure,

In death, God has freed you,

And in some warped way, the baby and me too.  

Starbucks

“She’s picked up her husband’s habit of drinking coffee whenever she steps out”

Announced my mother loudly, without a smidgen of doubt, 

It hit me then,

You’ve imprinted yourself on my thoughts, personality and tastebuds, time and time again, 

Whether I like it or not,

Your personality and mine, are tied together like a stubborn, untieable knot,

Starbucks played an impermeable role in your life,

Your tongue transformed into a thoughtless knife,

Whenever you hadn’t consumed your tall glass of Americano for the day, 

I stayed out of the way,

Not all the time of course,

For you were my eternal source, 

Of sugar and spice and everything nice, just like the Power Puff girls,

You were my grumpy, Power Puff girl,

Riaan and I were your loyal lost boys,

You had us wrapped around your stubby  fingers, with dark chocolate and toys, 

I didn’t have the courage to face a Starbucks logo,

Since you’ve been gone, but 25,000 filter coffees later, I might just walk into one and drink some hot cocoa,

Along with your favourite, creamy spinach and corn pocket,

My foolish heart might soar up like a rocket,

In the hopes of trying to bump into you there,

In your favourite coffee pub chair. 

Just Stop

Stop with the unsolicited parenting advice,

I’m grieving, not brain dead, so stop bouncing off your suggestions like a dice,

Stop telling me, I need to live for my son,

Like a brainless, bullet-less gun,

I was a wife first,

Before motherhood hit me headfirst,

I had to convince my husband, who was my first baby and life,

That I will always be his wife,

He was in constant competition with his son,

For my attention, time and activities filled with fun,

I know how to take care of my husband, son and myself,

So please keep your suggestions to yourself,

In my happiness lay theirs,

And in their sadness, I had an equal share,

I love my son, but the place my husband had in my life was irreplaceable,

So please, don’t tell me to shove memories of my dead husband to a corner of my brain that is untraceable,

That is ridiculously impossible,

Keep your foolish advices to yourself as far as possible. 

Not In The Mood

My husband’s death,

Took away all my breaths,

Allow me to grieve,

Please say nothing and just leave,

I don’t want to know what’s going in your life,

Because mine has come to a standstill, I’m a widow today, not a wife,

Whatever you say to me, out of sympathy, empathy or pity,

Are far from witty,

Your partners are still alive and kicking,

So please, continue with your personal nitpicking,

I’m not interested to hear about your love stories or babies,

My husband’s death has filled my head with rabies,

So just leave me alone,

To my heartbroken groans,

I’m not alright,

Please leave my child and me to our plight. 

You Never Smelt The Roses

Seven star properties, were a part of your life,

You stayed in them, five days a week, far from your wife,

You never stopped to smell the roses,

You were always knee deep in case work and proposals,

You didn’t enjoy your forever house,

The one you handpicked and decorated, for your son and spouse,

You didn’t use the clubhouse gym,

The one with the view of me, enjoying my swim,

You looked in wonder at our apartment’s massive garden and park,

Whenever you had time off, away from corporate sharks,

You weren’t always this person,

A shrewd, calculative, aggressive businessperson,

You were a lover of music, abstract art, strange science fiction books and gourmet food,

Your hobbies, had the power to elevate your mood,

Why didn’t you spend some quality time,

With those things, that really made your soul chime,

I wish you had opened your recording studio,

And taken it slow,

You were a musician,

A fine one at that, with so many creative ambitions, 

You loved playing live shows and attending concerts,

I enjoyed watching you perform and looked forward to donning my finest skirts,

I took pride in being the lead guitarist’s wife,

The one with whom you spent the chunk of your life,

You played numerous shows, accumulated thousands of fans,

And chose to hold only my hands,

I admit, I fell in love with you, 

Only because music was your primary brew.

You

Did the world really know you, like I did,

I'm being told you were a mentor, an inspiration and a rockstar, but in reality, you had the heart of a kid,

You were my telly tubby man,

Who surely wanted, a longer life span,

You had BMW dreams,

And loved working with smart teams,

If you liked someone or something at work,

You would talk to me endlessly about that person or case, until I went berserk,

Didn't matter what time you came home,

You'd wake me up immediately and get me upto speed with your weekly activities, 

Not everything you did was interesting, I'll admit,

You were essentially a cool nerd and I resisted my urge to split,

Each time you droned on and on, about something I just couldn't comprehend,

Still, I tried my best to lend,

A patient ear and filled the house with all your favourite goodies galore,

With you gone, my life has turned sour,

I've turned into the Mind Flayer from the Upside Down world,

The best place for me is alongside you, in the afterworld,

I'm being told, you'd do anything to come back,

So why aren't you back?

Are you happy with this void you've created in my life?

Your poopie, your best friend and your wife,

That's what you called me,

If you really meant it, you'd hover around me,

Until I reach you,

Right now, that's the least you can do. 

Our Forever House

Whether you were influenced by external factors,

Or got bulldozed into it and purchased a 3BHK blindly, like a brainless yet efficient tractor,

I’ll never know, 

What I do know,

Is that you wanted to see your son grow,

In our forever house, from a human clay dough,

You had dreams and desires for the three of us,

You wanted me to head back to work and put your son on a school bus,

You left my career decisions to me,

And told me to pick a good school for our bee,

You would stand by us,

As always, rock solid, without too much fuss,

You trusted every decision I took for the baby,

Any suggestion I had for the house however, was always met with a maybe,

You did have a better sense of interior decor,

Still, some of your statement art pieces, induced many a snore,

So, you allowed me to hang them in the bathroom,

While the ones I chose, were placed prominently in the living and dining room,

“Admit defeat, your taste in art is terrible”

“No, I love you and just want to see you smile. Your taste in art is truly unbearable” 

I was taken aback by your reply,

For once, you accepted and cherished my silence along with blushing eyes,

Whether you liked me talking or not,

I’ll never know, for if I spoke too little, you’d say, “What’s wrong?”, if I spoke too much, you’d screech, like a kettle pot,

Now I have lots of people to talk to,

But none of them are you,

I miss you,

All day, all night and in the afternoons too. 

Material Things

Six guitars, three amplifiers, one electric piano and umpteen speakers,

None of them have value, without their master, thrill seeker,

Two houses, one we transited through and the other you considered as our “forever home”,

For the sake of that big, airy house, you wanted to shelve your nomadic roam,

One blue car, 

Which your son termed “Baba’s big blue car”,

Unable to find the track “Poopie Monster” that you composed for me,

My mind is not at peace, but for now I’m letting it be,

Your son and I can’t wait to be mumma and baby star,

Just to knock out your nose and fart on your face, you stubborn, pig-headed imaginary czar,

I hope you haven’t started bullying all the souls in waiting,

Showing off your newly acquired soul skills, further aggravating, 

The problems of that wretched man or woman, they call “God”,

On second thought, you do you, he/she might just decide to send you down back to me, so that we can continue to plod,

And figure out this conundrum,

Called life, with our little son, who claims he has a lemony bum,

Now doesn’t that sound like a plan poopie,

Coming back to Riaan and me, your “original forever groupies”. 

Middle Class

You tried so hard to run away from this tag,                                                                    

Just so that you could subtly brag,

Behind closed doors,                                                                                                                            

About how, every expensive brand and experience in the world, could be yours,

But why run away from something,                                                                                  

That gave you everything,

Your education, your personality and your goals,                                                            

These solid foundations, were given to you and me, by hardworking souls,

Why belittle their efforts,                                                                                                  

And build an imaginary fort,

Of pretense and false superiority,                                                                                  

You were humble and grounded, for the majority,

But your carefully concealed mask,                                                                                  

I was always able to unmask,

I was never impressed with your hoity-toity ideas,                                                          

I tried my best, to make you understand that money didn’t grow on trees,

The little we made, we must invest,                                                                              

Only then can we rest,

And be ready to take on challenges,                                                                                   

With a cool well balanced mind.

You Tried

Not a single birthday or anniversary went by,

Without you making a huge hue and cry,

My gift for you had to be in place,                        

And it had to be unique, thoughtful and from outer space!

Your demands were amusing and childlike,          

But I was happy to meet them, just to watch you broadcast it from a mic,

Valentine’s Day, Poopiversary, Wedding Anniversary and Birthday,                                      

Each day with you, had shades of black, white and grey,

Food, was always the answer to every fight,        

Then try as I might,

A single whiff of Gajar Halwa or a nibble of Theobroma brownie,                                                  

Was all it took, to make me go weak in the knees,

You used this knowledge to your advantage,      

Successfully put out fires, before further damage,

Your weapons were elaborate flower bouquets and massive heart shaped chocolate cakes,      

Honestly, I preferred bouquets loaded with fried chicken and thick gooey shakes,

But the tied up blossoms and the cocoa overload,                                                                      

Made me temporarily forget, that I was a lock and key wife, who was all alone, in a husbandless abode,

So you tried, with all your might,                              

To make things right,

But in all honesty,                                                      

No gourmet cakes, flowers or expensive chocolates could ever replace you,

Sweet, precious you,                                                  

Who I loved fanatically, through and through,

If I had to re-live our life together,                          

I would happily go back to ruffling many feathers, 

Just to be with you,                                                    

Remember Joe Goldberg from "You",

I would be that dude for you,                                    

I'd kill, chop and plunder, just to be with strange, twisted, sweet, pure, paranoid, sensitive, goofy, dirty-minded you. 

What Were You Thinking

I didn't want diamond rings,

Or a fancy holiday in spring,

The baby wasn't wearing diapers made of gold,

He was your personal human sausage, waiting to be rolled,

So what were you thinking,

As you kept drinking,

Unending mugs of black coffee,

All for some imaginative corporate toffee,

That you so badly wanted to swallow,

You've turned our lives completely hollow,

You never worked for the baby and me,

You worked for your own self satisfaction and glee,

You wanted the adulation, love and respect,

You wanted to be better than the best,

I get it, I really do,

Even I worked only for those cues,

But not at the cost of my health and me-time,

When I heard the clock's 6pm chime,

I would be the first to shut down from work,

Unless there was a really pressing task to finish, then I would go berserk,

Your everyday at work, had a pressing task,

Not one day, did I see you remove your stressed, worried looking mask,

Was a client really more important, than your precious sleep,

Your eyes flew open, with the alarm's very first beep,

Many a time, I turned it off,

Risking the chance of a face-off,

With an irritated, sleep-deprived spouse,

Were you really a lion at work or just a meek mouse?

Who just shook his head like a puppet,

You were never a Muppet,

No, the poopie I knew was smarter than that,

Then tell me, why you fell flat, 

In the hands of strangers,

Instead of being at home with me, while breathing your last,

You were supposed to be my partner in life and death,

But you've abruptly left, leaving me with so many breaths. 

Let Him Go

"Let him go",

My parents whispered, as I showered you with kisses on your cold motionless face, that still had so much glow,

"Let him go",

My brother adviced, as I deeply breathed in your ashes and dug out every last bit of "you" to flow,

"Let him go",

Said the crematorium workers, who made me untie a knot from your toe,

"Let him go",

Said the pandit-ji, who helped me perform a five hour puja on the eleventh day and saw my tears overflow, 

"Let him go", 

For Riaan's sake, who must grow and fight every curve ball life throws, 

But letting you go,

Means letting the best part of me go,

How can I let go of 14 eventful years,

Filled with shared glory, happiness, fears, goals, sadness and cheers,

Who am I, if not Mrs Poopie,

I try my best to smile, but my eyes are traitorously droopy,

Would you have let me go,

If I had been the first to go.

Loneliness 101

A husbandless house,

A lonely spouse,

Always waiting,

Constantly debating,

The myriad voices,

Questioning our life choices,

"How do you live alone in this alien city, with a perpetually travelling husband?",

"I respect his career choices and have made myself accustomed",

"Poor you! What a tough life"

"Not really. He is my life, I am the happiest wife"

This cat and mouse game,

Was alright, until parents we became,

If it took two to make a baby,

Then why say maybe,

When I requested you to pay a little more attention at home?

An equal partner was whom I sought,

Instead I found myself caught,

Inside a stinging hot cauldron,

Overflowing with unrealistic goals, self-destruction and over-work, 

You turned a blind eye to everything that mattered,

Your selfish decisions have royally battered,

Everything we built so hard to create,

Starting with being each other's best mates.

Beautiful, Vibrant You

You are not the motionless body,

I found covered under a white sheet that looked utterly shoddy,

You are not the closed eyes and blue lips,

With your formal green shirt roughly pulled out of your hips,

You are not a barechested body, covered roughly with CPR marks,

You were infact a loving father who played with your son in parks,

You are not an ice-cold body turning black,

With your folded hands rising up rigidly like an unnatural airsac,

You are not a deadbody attracting flies,

You were in reality, a secret lover of crispy, golden french fries,

You are not a lump of meat on whom I applied ghee,

You were a family man, a maker of three,

You are not grey ashes in a tiny clay pot,

Which I sprinkled in the Bangana Tank under the extreme heat,

You are Riaan's baba and my poopie,

The bringer of peace, love, happiness and occasional whoopie,

You were the boy and man, I fell madly in love with,

You captured my heart with ease, like a skilled locksmith,

You captured my imagination as well,

And understood the weird workings of my brain a little too well,

With you gone, 

The whole world looks wrong,

Everyday is a struggle,

There's just too much to juggle. 

The Flawed Genius

A flawed genius is what you are,

You left many a scar,

You got so caught up in the hysteria of ascending the ladder,

That you made yourself madder,

From the carefree college boy,

Who was filled with so much joy,

Where did that boy go,

The one who just wanted to go with the flow,

As the mother of your child,

I worry your son will be just as wild,

But hopefully, just the right amount,

To make his life count,

The maniacy you displayed at work,

Hand in hand with questionable corporate sharks,

Made you lose your soul, 

Your body merely followed you, into that black hole,

I always told you, you weren't indispensable,

But you weren't sensible,

To hear me out,

Instead, you filled my head with self doubt,

Questioned my decisions,

And made no provisions,

To change the way you lived,

Living out of suitcases and 7 star properties, 5 days a week, was no way to live,

You deprived yourself of a well balanced life,

Trying to fulfill corporate goals that costed you, your invaluable life. 

Where's Baba?

"Where's Baba?"

Asked our little bubba,

"With God", 

I replied, nice and loud,

"I want to see him, mumma",

"Take me to him mumma",

He persisted,

So, we walked to the balcony, unassisted,

I pointed to the brightest star,

"There's your Baba, living like a Czar",

Our Bubba chuckled, "That's funny",

He said, digging his little nose for gold and honey,

"What's he doing there?"

"Watching you intently and singing a little prayer",

"Take me to him mumma",

"I want to be with him mumma",

He persisted,

The silent tears I resisted,

Began to flow with a massive gush,

Until my mother caught hold of me and said "Hush!",

Your son hasn't forgotten you,

His heart is still stuck with you, 

I don't know how to pacify him,

I certainly don't give in to his every whim,

He may grow up hating or loving me,

Doesn't matter, I'll always be his mother bee.

Bye-bye BMW

We test drove SUVs for four months,

You finally reached a decision in the last month,

I see Arjun Kanungo driving one now,

His fans (excluding me) are going wow,

No BMW X1 for me,

A BMW bike is what fills my heart with glee,

You hated my Scooty riding days,

Your description of my riding skills were far from praise,

Just to spite you,

I'll get back on two sturdy wheels and paint the town blue,

There's nothing you can do,

Not even sit moodily with your hot caffeine brew,

Still so angry with you,

For getting swept up in your self- 

made, suffocating stew,

Think long and hard about your toddler and wife,

Whose lives you've successfully managed to stab with a painful knife.

Love and War

All's fair in love and war,

Our lovestory from start to finish, was filled with blood and gore,

We fought the whole world,

Just to build our dreamworld,

Life was hard,

But we deflected every shard,

We won every battle hand in hand,

Sadly, we lost the war against God and watched helplessly as he played his nasty underhand, 

I wake up every morning, expecting your videocall,

Then I realise we can only talk now, when God gives me a call,

Are you waiting for me,

Or excercising your poor flirting skills with heaven's every last bird and bee,

I want you to be a one-woman man, even in death,

Don't assume your loyalty to me is finished with your last breath,

I'm watching your every move, as humanly possible,

Coming up there and giving you a whack is far from impossible,

So be good,

Don't tempt me to come there with a hard piece of wood,

Now don't crack dirty jokes over the word "wood",

Not everyone understands that you hardly left your boyhood,

My poopie and baby number one,

You will always be my one and only one,

Love you,

Until my mortal eyes close and my lips turn blue.

Strength

Where am I supposed to find it from,

When I feel so numb,

My husband was my strength,

Although we were always on different wavelengths,

He was my Banyan tree and my shade,

A cosy little cocoon we had made,

Away from prying eyes,

Where we shared all our lows and highs,

It was always us against the world,

Until God decided to snatch you to the netherworld,

If there is a God, I hate him,

I won't be singing him any more hymns,

It wasn't your time,

Someone, somewhere has to pay the price for this crime,

I miss you, today and everyday,

More so on Fridays,

Life has lost all meaning,

I'm tired of hearing hollow words disguised as "well meaning". 

Moving On

Was I just a trophy wife,

Or did you consider me a huge part of your life,

How am I supposed to move on,

With you abruptly gone,

Am I supposed to continue living,

And keep forgiving,

All the wrong decisions you took,

With your misguided outlook,

Each day without you feels hollow,

This bitter reality of my life, am I expected to just swallow,

Should I continue loving you or hating you,

For what you've put me through,

Now I know how Pepper Potts felt when Iron Man died,

Too many expensive gadgets to clean and keep aside,

Do you realise at least now,

The slyness of people and how they made you senselessly plough,

My cautionary words seemed empty to you then,

I pray in the next life, you won't repeat it all over again,

I'm angry, so so angry,

With this meaningless half life, you've bestowed upon me so blankly. 

Riaan Is Three

Our bundle is three,

Are you far away or buzzing around like a bee,

Will you kiss him today,

And join in his play,

He hasn't asked about you offlate,

Perhaps he has resigned to his fate,

I took him to the beach today,

To kickstart his birthday,

He was ecstatic,

And viciously attacked his favourite sandy brown gold, like a fanatic,

He has convinced us that he is three months old,

And can no longer be controlled,

Opinionated, adamant and an absolute rebel,

No squabble ends well,

It's always his way or none,

He truly is your son,

That both excites and scares me,

Because I don't want him to flee,

From the realities of life and live inside a hazy little cloud,

He must live a well rounded life and that I will din into him, nice and loud,

He will excercise everyday,

Come back home early to his family,

Not be a people pleaser,

Instead be a smart little, well deserving seizer,

He can do and be anything,

As long as he does it all, with a playful ring,

Nothing and noone is more important than his life,

This he will learn from me for now and later his wife,

Now quickly wish him a happy third birthday,

Bless him, guide him and fill his life with abundant joy, today and everyday.

Why You?

Why did God take you,

When you still had so much to work through,

Out of all the nasty people in the world,

Why did he grab YOU to the netherworld,

Rapists, drug addicts, wife beaters, mafia dons,

You were merely a corporate pawn,

Who danced to their every tune,

You ruthlessly abused your mind, body and soul, ever ready to swoon,

To empty promises and ego massages,

Your head was inflated with barrages,

Of admiration and compliments,

God-complex was what you developed as a complement,

Your son and I didn't want an unstoppable God at home,

Or someone who perennially wanted to roam,

We wanted you and only you,

Not your guitars, your houses or the money you grew,

I fell in love with a stinky, unshaven college kid,

Your son simply wanted a father to play daredevil games with, which I tried my best to forbid,

Your bank balance and your fancy degrees,

Didn't make your son or me go weak in the knees, 

All we ever wanted was your time,

We were least interested in watching you maniacally climb,

Through a corporate machinery,

That made you so unkind and unseemly,

You snapped at everyone,

Including your almost 3 year old son,

For that I'll never forgive you,

You got so caught up in your own self-made selfish brew,

I'm not so large hearted,

To move on quickly from the crude manner in which you parted.

One Horrible Month

One horrible month since you've been gone,

I don't feel like waking up at dawn,

An existence without you,

Feels like an unending, painful flu,

If I had to relive my life with you,

Even if i knew,

That you'd go so soon,

I would still dance to your every tune,

I'd wait for the weekends,

Bide time with friends,

Pretend not to care when the door unlocked on Friday,

When in reality, my heart would be soaring in happiness glancing at my bae,

Riaan and I lived for the weekends,

You were better than the best of our baby and adult friends,

You were superdad and the love of my life,

I don't know about Riaan, but you would wholeheartedly agree, I was the ultimate superwife, 

Happy wife equals happy life,

And you made me so happy, even when your words cut sharper than a knife, 

We love you, forever more,

More than you'll ever know. 

Did I Love You Enough

We've had a million Tom and Jerry fights,

Because we had every right,

Through every "I hate you",

Was an intense "I love you",

We knew right from the start,

That we were burrowed deep inside each other's hearts,

Doesn't matter if you're dead or alive,

I will forever strive,

To keep your legacy shining bright,

I will fight the stormiest of seas and ride the toughest of flights,

Just to soar high, 

So that we can meet eye to eye,

This I promise with all my heart,

I will work smart,

Until I have to work no more,

Then I can join you in peace and take a blissful forever snore. 

Is Riaan You?

Riaan has got into an International school in Chennai, just like you wanted. His interview went very well. He spoke endlessly about himself and I spoke endlessly about you. You would've been happy to hear about the student teacher ratio, their ideas on feeding toddlers and how to potty train. I loved the school's principal. Can't wait to see him settle down nicely into that environment. 

Ever since you passed away, I've been noticing an uncanny resemblance between you and Riaan. He has become as sensitive as you overnight. Whenever he sees me howling uncontrollably, he holds my hand and says, "Don't worry maamaa. I'm here for you". He showers me with "I love you", very often. He massages my hands and face gently and says, "Don't be sad. Don't be angry. Be calm"

Whenever he sees me walking around aimlessly he tugs at my legs and says, "Come quick! Let me shut you inside this room, otherwise Baba will take you to the office, then you will also get lost" and "I won't let you go maamaa, don't leave me alone. I'll miss you".

You said you wanted to toughen him up and that I was not strict enough with him. You felt his life was filled with rainbows and cotton candies. Not anymore pupu, not anymore. His life has a void now. One that can never be filled. Not even by me. I am maamaa, not baba. 

Baba was the love of his life and mine. You've broken our happy family unit. All we ever wanted was your time and attention. We wanted you to play with us and listen to us. You did as best as you could. It just wasn't enough. We want more of you. So much more. 

I slept with your jacket last night. The one you wore for that last meeting. I smelt you all night long. But you didn't come in my dreams. Why? How dare you decide not to talk to me anymore? I'll give you two more nights. If you don't talk to me, I'll come find you. And if I come, there will be no going back. I know you're not that selfish. Think about Riaan, you don't want that for him. So talk to me, that's all you need to do. Talk. 

I hated the fact that Riaan resembles only you. In which world is it possible, that I carried him for 9 painful months, birthed him and he looks only like you! I was so angry each time someone made that remark. But today, I'm so glad he looks like you. He has your hair, forehead, eyebrows, eyelashes, ears and lips. Most likely, your brains and heart too. I'll forever be indebted to you for this gift of motherhood. I will see you through our little boy now. My only reason to live and smile. 

He has become naughtier and naughtier by the day. He has destroyed his grandmother's living room. Half her curios are broken. His grandfather has reached his wits end. He has been attacking his desktop computer, keyboard and mouse like nobody's business. My parents are most likely having second thoughts about letting me and your chimpanzee of a son into their house. 

Miss you pupu. Wonder why God didn't take me instead. Just counting the days until I can be with you again and have a roaring argument with you, about why you left so abruptly. Love you forever, with every last fibre of my being. Keep a box of brownies or a bowl of piping hot Gajar Halwa handy, you'll need it. 

The Power Of Chocolate

Chocolate has played a very important role in our romance. I'm convinced, without chocolate I may not have fallen so madly in love with poopie. Right from our first week of being together as a couple, poopie began showering me with chocolates. He bought me junk jewellery and chocolate dough balls. I knew in a heart-beat this was the man for me. Carbs oozing with chocolate and artificial plastic earrings. What more could a girl want?

He wouldn't dare enter the house on Friday nights without pastries and chocolates from Starbucks or the airport. It was his way of saying, "I love you". On one of those Friday nights he crazily offered to take me to Lower Parel, to eat a Double Chocolate Chip cookie from Sweetish House Mafia. So there we were, two tired work-ravaged souls (him more ravaged than me, of course), who jumped into their little red car and drove all the way from Kandivali to Lower Parel. All for the love of chocolate. 

Yet another Saturday morning found him offering to take me to Chocolateria San Churro. So off we went, from Kandivali to Juhu and then Juhu to Bandra. The Juhu outlet didn't have thick dark chocolate, only the milky one. So naturally, we had to go to the Bandra outlet. 

To make up for missing the birth of his son, he purchased tons of chocolate cookies, chocolate lollipops and chocolate tarts. Before he said, "Hi", he placed that big cardboard box of goodies on my lap. Before I could scream, "WHERE THE HELL WHERE YOU!?", a chocolate cookie was stuffed down my throat. Then he held his child with moist eyes and kissed him in peace.

When we went to Disneyland in Hong Kong, he didn't bother asking me what I wanted. He ordered a piping hot mug of hot chocolate with chocolate mickey ears for me and a black coffee for him. 

Whenever we had roaring fights at home, he would personally step out of home and pick up a box of Theobroma brownies, or have it home delivered. 

Whenever we went to Starbucks he encouraged me to drink their hot chocolate or stick to plain black coffee, but I always ended up trying their terrible tasting seasonal drinks by falling for their fancy marketing gimmicks. And then poopie, would shake his head in disappointment and mutter, "Why doesn't she ever listen to me"

Molten lava cake from Chili's, sizzling brownie from Cafe Coffee Day and the massive chocolatey dessert from Hard Rock Cafe; if there is a restaurant in Bombay with a gigantic chocolate dessert, poopie and I have demolished it.

He did love me, that carefree college kid, who turned into a work obsessed demon towards the end. He did, in his own, twisted way. Music, work, toddler, wife. Perhaps, this was the order in which he loved.

My Dearest Poopie

I'll love you till the end,

Even now when our lives have taken a bend,

Picturing your gorgeous face and dirty jokes,

Make me choke,

I should have died years ago on my Scooty,

Then I wouldn't have lived this impossible love story filled with unbridled beauty, 

Two 21 year olds,

From vastly different households,

Our union met with a lot of hesitation,

But we had already jumped to the next station,

In our heads we were already married,

So best to keep unwarranted comments buried,

Our life together was far from rosy,

But we tried our best to make each other feel cosy,

We braved many a storm,

And kept finding our way back into each other's arms which were always warm,

We only knew how to love,

Everything and everyone else we successfully managed to nudge away and shove,

You were mine and I was yours,

The rest of the world we blurred.