Author: theclosedheart

I am a dreamer. My goal in life is to live all dreams before I die. So you will also see that my blog is not about one theme. I write as I experience, and whatever I experience.

Summer Vacation

Last day of Kindergarten was a special day

We went for a picnic and went around all day.

I would spend the next 11 weeks at home,

I was happy to be with Mumma

But Mumma knew better and that look, oh no!

So I went for a Chess Camp

And a Drama Camp

And a Tennis Camp

And Mumma asked if I’d like to dance too,

And I said no, with a frown and a foot stamp.

I love to wake up with Mumma in the morning at 4

She says that I should sleep a little bit, a little bit more.

She says that I trouble her when she is trying to work

So I play quietly and I get down to work.

I ask her “how much more time”

And I can now read the clock

She tells me 3hrs, 2hrs and then 1

I go back to play after I say “oh fine”.

One day I decided I won’t trouble Ma no more

I didn’t ask her how long before she was done

I didn’t ask her, no not even once.

She was happy and proud and hugged me tight

My eyes were shining with tears so bright.

Every day when Ma was done

She saw toys here and there

And my books were everywhere, just everywhere.

At times Ma would ask me to clean up

‘Hurry up”!

At times she would let me make a mess

Till she couldn’t walk around, no less!

But we played every day

And cycled and swam.

When she didn’t have a cycle,

I cycled and she ran.

We played frisbee and snakes and ladders

And catch.

I tell you, I’m the best Mumma is no match.

I’m going back to school now

I’m a first grader

A great reader

And look forward to new friends.

Mumma is worried about me eating

And the time I’d spend at school.

I told her she can nap now “peacely”

And that furrowed her brow.

I know she doesn’t mind when I play while she naps

But when one hour is over I give her a wake up tap.

It’s the morning of Grade 1

And my bus is here

And I tell ma, I will see her soon.

Day 1 in Grade 1

Was a whole lot of fun.

When I came back home

Ma was so glum.

She said she missed me

There was nothing to clear.

No books and no toys and no clothes here and there.

No one to fuss over and feed

No one to play catch and no stories to read.

No one asked her if she was done with her work

She just sat there and worked till she could work no more.

I wonder what Ma is made of

She gets worried when I’m home

And she can’t bear it when I’m gone

When I’m gone to school again.

Mom

When the woods whistled at night

And all the monsters came for me

I sneaked up to Mom’s room

And her hand on my waist kept me safe.

When rains would lash

And the waters would rise

I’d look at Mom’s calm

And it kept me safe.

When I would be a bundle of nerves

On the night before (every) exam

She’d walk in and I’d be fine.

When I could not tell her what bothered me

Just putting my head in her lap

Got me peace.

When I fell sick

She nursed me back to health.

When I stayed awake with my daughter

She split the night with me.

And now we are all gone

Far away from her.

And she falls sick every day,

It’s more the heart than the body.

And when I see her she says

I don’t want to live anymore

I just want to go now

Seen everything, and done everything.

I don’t want to be sick anymore.

And I gently remind her

And ask her if she would have liked it

Had I said it when I was sick sick sick.

No she says.

And then smiles

And gets ready for another day.

That’s what moms are

The safe haven the heart craves

And they ask for a little in return.

And if you can be there

For that little word when they need it

They are safe.

Your safe haven’s safe.

When there are no voices

May this never be “a country without a post office”

May there be love galore

May one wrong act not lead to a cycle of mistrust and hatred and more
May the messages of love reach where they are meant to reach
An Eid message for the place that the world is watching
But a place that the world doesn’t hear, this day.

May peace prevail and the homes not be reduced
To “pictures on postcards” and fallen walls
Don’t ask me why I hurt
Don’t ask me why I cry
Don’t ask me if I have family holed up there
Coz the answer is “No, I don’t”
I cry for the loss of humanity
And for what we have become
We have all killed and been killed in the past
No amount of wrongs will make a right in the end

Let us see through the emotion
And pray for the place
That has no voice of its own this day.
For God forbid if we stand there one day,
We will need someone to pray for us that day
If we have no voices and are holed up inside our walls.

Little Girls

Little girls are little

For such a little while.

They outgrow your lap

In just a little while.

The gurgling changes to a giggle to a laugh

In such a little time.

They won’t ask to sleep on your tummy

After a little while.

They learn to play on their own

In such a little time.

They don’t want the dolls and teddies

After just a little while.

They outgrow the bows and ribbons

In just a little while.

Dad cannot throw them up in the air

Mama cannot share the rides

After just a little while.

Little girls can shower and get dressed on their own

They don’t ask you to feed them,

Or read them stories,

Or shoo away the monsters under the bed,

Or help them with Math,

Or take them to birthday parties,

After just a little while.

So love them and hold them

Cherish them and spoil them

For just a little while

For just a little while.

Beaten

Some adorned the branches,

Some fell by the wayside.

Some still fragrant,

Some lay broken.

Some still fresh,

Some all beaten up.

Just like all of us.

But look closely- the ones that are beaten and broken,

Are still beautiful.

The wind ripped them apart,

But they are still colorful.

They haven’t lost their charm.

So whether you are complete,

Or you are broken;

Whether you are fresh,

Or all beaten up by life,

Know that you are beautiful;

Know that you are beautiful.