Welcome to the End

This one that I am going to share with you now is something which I wrote around 5 years back. Grab a cuppa or a single malt scotch if you wish because this one is long and would make your brain cells tingle. Besides you might not want to read this in one go. Take your time as this one would also probably be last for atleast couple weeks. When I have landed safely in Bangalore and am merrilly drunk enough someday I shall write more.

So then - Welcome to the End!

Something bellows in my ears sending tremors down my spine shaking my existence as I discover where I have been lured to. And as these waves of realizations crash over me again and again hammering against my ever so weakening resistance there is just so much that is boiling within my subdued conscience which is slowly but firmly rising to the surface as if hoping to evanesce from the pores on my skin and it makes me want to scream and shout and ask you - Now what!? And no I do not expect an answer or an explanation of any kind my love, just the courtesy that you hear me out till the end - the end of my existence. And with this hope that you are here somewhere just out of the reach of my mortal vision for I can still sense your presence lingering in my senses I shall pour it all out.

I am at the Point of No Return. I am left with no choices and though it is a bliss for me to not have myself being subjected to the strenuous thought process of separating the right from the wrong forcing myself to make some choice which is more morally correct than letting my humble heart gladly chase the more pleasing ones still, for some insane reason unknown to even myself I long to be given an option - an option to go back in time and undo everything. But since that is something which will not happen I shall stick to my present precarious standing and go on with my insane blabber.

I have been in love and madly. For though am sure I was blindfolded for I could not see anything but your innocent image seducing my eyes I distinctively remember following the hypnotizing sound of your voice asking me to come and get you and that I am almost there that you are just in reach and oh how I remember that giggling "no am not here baby come find me" I do not recall seeing anything else. And now as the music of your voice has come to an end and I remove this blindfold I find myself standing at the edge of reason beyond which is a steep fall to eternity that will swiftly carry me to nothingness. There is no way back the ground beneath my feet is trembling and I know I would have to make the jump sooner rather than later. And though nothing matters at this point the terms difficult and pain having both lost their meanings still my mortal self with all its weaknesses that a human inherits from his essence of flesh shuddered when I looked into this nothingness for it is not empty my love.

No it is not. Now that I have edged closer preparing myself to take that last step that shall end it all I see that this space beyond my existence and my exoneration is filled with infernos. Fires of hell are rising from somewhere deep below and are rapidly spreading their ghastly tentacles up to where I stand. I can feel the heat intensifying with every passing second and with it I see the shameless dance of these flames being executed with a perfect symphony, the music of death. I see shapes being formed in these fires, daemons of all kind and nature emerging from within its core taking their shapes from the worst of my fears from what now feels like an earlier life. But yes o my lurer I see them all - reptiles, dragons, sphinx all kinds of beasts and flesh eaters and it is a pandemonium down there a frenzy of activity a celebration for I can see that they are waiting for their next feed - me. Me!?

And as for me, I have no apprehensions of any sorts trailing on my steps and I would have gladly jumped in if, yes love I would have jumped in if and only if I was sure that this would be the end of the story. That I will jump in and these daemons from hell would all pounce on me and I will have the ecstasy of watching the barriers of my skin and flesh being ripped apart by their deep claws digging into my conscience, that the process of my ethnic cleansing shall begin and for the first ritual I shall be made to bathe in my own blood whose fury shall be used to pulverize the layers of my sins. And then when my blood has been made black enough these denizens of dark realms shall smother their faces with it while chewing on my flesh and then slowly as all veils are torn frontiers jumped and barriers breached and as my soul stands naked with nothing to hide these worshippers of Satan shall take me away to dissolve my essence into their black world.

No I would not have had any problems.

But I know that this can not be allowed to happen for I know that I have to give in, jump into this black pit and yet survive, that I have to fight till my last breadth that no matter how dark my blood is made I still have to save my soul, for darling I have duties still to fulfill, jobs to finish and people to live for. No matter how much I hate to but alas I have to survive. And so it is at this moment o my puppeteer that for the last time I want to ask you that which is burning within my sanity right now. Yes I have to I just need to even though I know you would not be able to take out this raging fire within me.

Why! Why did this have to happen!? What went wrong and where!? I know am not good but was I that bad!? I still fail to comprehend the entire sequence of events that lead me to this end of life. I remember the time when you had come to me had “begged” me to believe in you to let you be a part of my life and I remember despite the voices screaming in my head and those rock solid icebergs of insecurities crashing against the walls of my heart that decision of mine to let you in my life once. Yes I do remember all that, I do. And lo! Suddenly there is music in the air and wherever I turn I see flowers blossoming and the raging wind of hell turning into a zephyr and Almighty’s whole creation turning beautiful again, beautiful as the face of a new born and equally innocent. And my stiff nerves begin to relax, my eyes which were ever so wide open and staring aghast all around me forever watchful of any danger or misfortune that might be lurking in the dark corners and might just pounce on me lest I should look away taking me down, the same eyes begin drooping for it has been a long time since I slept. My insecurities melting away in the radiance of your smile just as what the warm sunshine does to the aftermaths of a violent night’s storm and I finally give in.

Yes my love I give in to the warmth of your smile the passion in your eyes and the surety of your touch. I surrender and rest my head in your lap for I know no matter if the face of our past is ghastly and ugly with chunks of fleshes removed and dark unexplained voids left in places but now that you are here with me loving me caring for me and truly mine I know that the future is going to be nothing less than the beautiful smile of Mona Lisa and this time my love we shall be the artists.

With these assurances and your love filling everywhere in my heart I let myself totally for you. And I watch you play those “oh so cute” games and I feel such pride in being the beau of the most desired wanted divine angel on this earth who by a flick of her hand a blink of her eye or even the color of her blush can fill this aura with the most natural, pure, raw and yet ripe emotion – Love! And I don’t have words to thank the heavens above or the faith to believe my destiny enough but oh I so blindly do for I know somehow don’t ask me how but I just know that this for the first time is true and is happening to me for I can feel it rising and maturing in every pour on my body. I sense it traveling down my spine and I can hear the music in my senses. I can see your aroma hear the beautiful color of your skin and visualize the music of your voice. And then I feel your hand on mine your body closing in and I know it is time. Yes my love I know your gestures and I want you to know that I desire you too and I am longing to feel those extremities of love when it reaches its crescendo where the three universes of human existence –emotional physical and spiritual collide and are merged and take the shape of something which can only be felt and not realized by any of our human senses. Yes my love I long to complete this triad this trinity. I take you in my arms and so we begin to compose the music together where the only instruments are us – our bodies. And now oh now I see you closing in and I feel you and realize your presence filling my senses shutting out whatever other human realizations I might have and oh now you ask me if you’d let you blindfold me and I who knows not the meaning of this word “no” when it comes to you can do little more than say “anything you desire my love, anything you want”. And you do it. All I can hear now is your giggling and chuckling and your voice asking me to come and get you and this stupid me keeps following it like someone charmed by a skilled master and I all I can do is to keep walking. And now that I can no longer hear that voice and as I remove this blindfold I find myself in this predicament.

Why did you do this love, why! I never asked you to love me to be with me, yes I wanted to but I never ever in my living conscience asked you to show me this beautiful world and the magic and charm of it that is so capable of enchanting anyone for I always feared craving for it when it is eventually taken away just as in this moment I am! And trust me if I can only get the answer to this raging humiliating “why” burning within me then these infernos I am to jump in shall be nothing more than a dip in the pleasant waters of river Ganges for they eventually would cleanse me of my sins but yes for this fear of uncertainty I face right now all these whys and why nots this is worse than anything I might have to face as I make this eternal fall.
This is why I want you to throw these answers at me. Oh please understand it this way if you must that I “want” to jump but I can not, something is holding my feet firmly below so please please please oh my love hit me with these answers throw them at me make me lose my balance make me complete this fall and for once in my entire life – make me certain of something!!
Still all I hear is silence.

I never expected an answer though I must admit that I hoped for one. And then again what is the meaning of our existence if not hope. It is hope that carries us forward, hope that springs within our hearts, hope that makes us go around and sometimes round and round in circles. Oh! What a time to realize all this when the dusk of this doomsday is just about to fall and I am about to release myself to satisfy the yearnings of these poor creatures, what a glorifying moment. And then perhaps this is the apt time. Had it been some other epoch of my more humane life I probably might have refused to recognize the truth and debated against the supremacy of love in this world. Though even now I admit that I haven’t the slightest ideas of what is love. Can you tell me what is love ? Is love conquering? That you see someone walking away from you and you suddenly realize that you just have to stop him and so like a beleaguered soul you rush after his fading silhouette drop down on your knees and keep on speaking beautiful words and make him realize he is the core of your existence. And then finally when he is convinced and you see some more tears falling in front of you along with your own and you raise your face to look each other in the eyes and read desires and wishes and longings and dreams and you rise and take each other in your arms, you as if suddenly jolted by the touch of his hands wake up from some kind of a deep slumber and suddenly break away from the embrace. “Oh! Am sorry you are not the one I want. I already have you. Look that’s the one I want, the one you can see is walking away. I have to get to him stop him before it is too late! Oh I am so sorry…”

Is this love?

Or probably not. This is not love, how can it be!? Probably love is like a child and a candy. A child loves his candy and is annoyed that he doesn’t get enough of it. Then one day by a fine stroke of luck he is granted his eternal wish. He can have as much candy as he wants and he is overjoyed. He rushes into the piles and piles of his favorite candy filling his hands, mouth pockets. But eventually he is bored and feels repulsed even by the thought of the same thing of which he could not get enough until the moment he was given enough!
No I think I am wrong again. Forgive me as it is a trifle hard to think clearly with all this smoke clogging my senses and the fire burning my skin and this trench of charring flesh making me a little dizzy.

What is love!? A philosophy, a wisdom, a poet’s words, a composers music, an athlete’s dedication, a pupil’s pursuit, a monk’s power of will, a greed’s lust or a smile that dances on your lips when you see someone or a thought that crosses your mind when you sit by your window at dusk and see the birds returning to their nests on the backdrop of a cherise azure and a sleepy tired sun? Or is it the desire you get when you lie down alone at night and see the stars twinkling right through your roof as if it was never there and feel the moon reaching its glorious youth. Or is love a trap where sentimental emotional fools like yours truly get trapped!? I apologize for the insanity of all these questions and for getting onto your nerves sweetheart for heavens know that I shall not in the least of my waking conscience would do anything to cause you grief but for where I stand I assume I can be given the liberty to hold you in my thoughts and shake you violently and say “wake up!! Look what you have done!” and it shall not be a complaint. No it is not a complaint but a breaking sense of realization that I possessed now and that which I want you to hold when I am gone.

And this brings me to the real reason of all this gibberish maundering I lofted in this thick smoke clogged air. I want you to know and realize what it is that you have done. Not just the pain you caused me baby but the trust that you broke.

And now what? The questions? Oh I let them go. For thinking about all that as I stand here my eyesight is sure getting blurred but my vision is becoming clearer. To put it rudely “Come on now ! what the heck you need the recipes for! If the damned food is good go ahead and savor it!” What good would the answers do to me my love? Pacify me! Well for someone whose soul would be ripped apart just moments from now I reckon there would be just so much good that quenching my ever ending thirst would do to me. So I let them go- the questions and the answers.

At the end of it I want you to know that I do not blame you for anything, anything at all. Or okay I take the liberty of having an upper hand and say “I exonerate you”. For maybe I know not what love is and the rules or the absence of them which govern the behavior of those in love with each other and I reckon it better to leave the job of finding these answers to you and the better people of God, I am absolutely sure of one thing – that I have loved you and there shall never be anybody else.

Take care
Jump

Those Eyes

This one that I am going to share with you now is something I wrote last year in February. I was in London on a business trip, it was my last night and I was miserably drunk. She was a regular reader of my other blog which I once had. She approached me on yahoo messenger that night and we had a long conversation. It was indeed a night of literary verbiage and shared soliloquies. I did not sleep the whole night that one and was up chatting with her. We shared our lives, our secrets and a lot more. While on my way back on my early morning flight I kept thinking of her, kept drinking and wrote this out. She is no longer in my life now, left about one and a half month ago. But then again que sera sera….

My life is brilliant.
My life is brilliant.
My love is pure.
I saw an angel.
Of that I'm sure.

She smiled at me on the subway.
She was with another man.
But I won't lose no sleep on that,
'Cause I've got a plan.

You're beautiful.
You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.

I saw your face in a crowded place,
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.

Yeah, she caught my eye,
As we walked on by.
She could see from my face that I was,
Fucking high,
And I don't think that I'll see her again,
But we shared a moment that will last till the end.

You're beautiful.
You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face in a crowded place,
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.

Song You’re beautiful by James Blunt

Sitting in a space which probably is just enough for a man to crouch in am living my life at a speed of 974 kilometers per hour at a height of 11142 meters above the sea level. I have slept 5.5 hours combined in the last two days and combined have already gulped down a full bottle of chardonnay, 11 pints of beer, 5 glasses of red wine a couple of brandies and have just asked these angels floating in these clouds with me to please now get me some cognac. My eyes are swollen, blood red and tired. I have watched two movies back to back, read 60 pages on philosophy, argued about the entire Asian eco-politico-social system with my fellow sufferer for 2 hour at length and though am confused am dodgy, am hallucinating and am feeling as if am dead with all these clouds around me still - I can not give up thinking about those eyes.

Been a couple of hours since I saw them for the first time and probably the last. Been a couple of hours since I tried to seduce them. Tried to make them look into mine and drown them. How often does it happen, that the hunter becomes the hunted? You are menacingly prowling the ripe grounds swarming with life looking for your next pray and as soon as you get a hint, a premonition, a hunch of your target you take an aim and fire your best shot and just at that precise moment your target turns around and she fixes you with a magnificent stare which sends a terrible bolt of realization shooting down your spine which enlightens you that what you were looking at was nothing but a mere reflection being cast in a wall of glass and that the projectile you just hurled has ricocheted and is running screaming towards you and no matter how much a part of your brain flashes the red warning light and sirens and instructs your entire muscular system to move, scram, begone, still the firm gaze hypnotizes you so bad that you just chose to ignore all such flashes of wisdom and stand completely vulnerable to the rushing bolt just so that you can see see some more of those magnificent, sparkling, pearly, deep, hypnotic, whispering eyes.

Just how often?

Not much I would assume for had it been a phenomenon that should occur like a beat in a symphony after every fixed interval of time or maybe that unexpected sound that comes in frequently when in the height of rhythmic ecstasy you smash the guitar on the drums, I shall content myself with the satisfaction of the thought that a hunter like myself would then prepare himself for the eventuality of the coming mirage and either chose not to hunt for a while or maybe and in more likelihood better prepare himself with certain more amount of exercise and caution. But what does a man got to do when it happens for the first time? When all it takes to render him helpless, hopeless and to a good extent even pathetically desperate is nothing more than a hypnotic look from two sapphires studded and shining in a milky white cloudy night!?
How does a man fight then!

How do you make your escape when the eyes not only look, seduce and hold you but also whisper in your ears from such a distance as if the very wind is their slave, calling you closer and closer just like the Sheila in the ocean who with their enchanting music cast a binding spell over innocent sailors, over their rationale, logic rendering them completely helpless and lulllabying them to their doom. When you yourself want to be lured and possessed. When all that matters to you in the world for that instant is a look of admiration reflecting back in those crystals. When you want to give in and not fight and lose and not win.

Do you have time to react? Yes! Yes you do! You get a whole heartbeat’s length of time! People tell me that much is not enough and I ask them, really? It takes a heartbeat to look and feel. It takes a heartbeat (or a skip of one) in which endless words are spoken and heard and felt without any effort to communicate being made. It takes a heartbeat for a chill to energize those neurons so badly that every pour on your body is standing up in attention. It takes a heartbeat's length of time to fight and surrender and give in. A heartbeat's length of time in which an eyelash flashes, hides and reveals those waters again and pulls you so rapidly towards them as if someone hooked you from the navel and gave a massive tug making your feet lose the ground beneath them finally drowning you. It takes a heartbeat to take a click of those flashing eyes and imprint it on your memory forever which no amount of time can erase and which probably you would still see when you shall lie down for the last time in your life.

And they tell me it is not enough time?

I know those eyes would sweep through this page sooner or later. I know those eyelashes would flicker and batter and there would be a thought if this is really about them. Who knows probably they are here right now, on this very word? Probably there is a smile dancing on those lips now, probably those eyes have flashed for an instance onto messenger to check if I am online, probably now there is a urge and a hitch at the same time to leave an offline message for me, probably those eyes are a little mad now for the way I read through them and their inability to shut me off, and probably a certain mischief is now dancing in them toying with the idea on how it would be to give in just for once.....

Probably.

It was all about those eyes in whose temptation I allowed myself for a certain while to live the life of a hopeless, desperate romantic that I once was. Pardon me if I do not make much sense here given my current physical and mental state.

My plane just flew over Singapore and instinctively I arched my neck and looked down out of the window.

Probably......

You're beautiful.
You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face in a crowded place,
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.

Words

If words had any power, I’d be the king of this world.

Words. Beautiful ugly distorted perfect words. Words – all I have are these words. These words which I use to convey what I feel, to draw an image in the air of the objects floating in my brain and as if by sheer magic transpose that image into your mind, often without even speaking.

Words, which I am in love with. Words which I use as my rescue and my weapon. Words which I hurl at my opponents as spears and words which I use to rapidly conjure a thick shield impenetrable by all with such subtlety and suddenness that somehow still amazes even me. Words that I use to charm my way out of situations. Words that I use to create temptations arouse a mortal’s most hidden and primitive desires and make him obey me. Words that I use to manipulate, maneuver, connive and convince. Words with which my association goes back as far as I can think of. Often incomprehensible in one language, say the language I spoke when I was one or two years of age, yet words nonetheless perfectly understandable to those who understand the language I chose given a particular moment in this dynamics of space and time.

Words which always stay with me ready to launch themselves from the tip of my tongue and fingers at my slightest provocation, which I can always rely on to come to my aid and yet, which always helplessly, hopelessly fail me when I need them the most.

When I try to describe the magic, the power those eyes have over me. When I try to compare her elegance with that of a flowing river and her poise her stature to that of a wisp of smoke delicately yet firmly positioning itself in the thin air, when I try and equate her laughter to the sounds of humming wind and when I try and compare the silent noise her tears make to that of a delicate bone china glass being shattered. When I try and conjure up a perfect world where she will be the queen and I shall be her most desired and humble servant, the object of her desire, her playmate, her dark secret life. Someone she would look straight into the eyes when the king is holding his court and mouth a wordless “I love you”. When I try and impress unto her how much her presence mean in my life. When I want to with all my earnestness minus any of my conniving make her understand how much she has become a part of me. When I reminisce about those glorious days spent in her arms and those moments of intense passion I spent looking down at her sweating face as we moved again and again together composing a perfect harmony taking it to its crescendo using our bodies as Lord’s gifted musical instruments.

When I call her name in the darkness and the fear that invokes in my heart thumping with its every beat that I shall never see her again. When I crave for her, long for her. When I try and tell her how much I love her, want her, need her and beg her not to go. When I try and scream at God for putting me in these predicaments, for causing me this pain. When I try and make myself believe she is not gone but simply hiding her somewhere in these dark shadows encouraging me to find her, prolonging my desire so that when I finally catch her I shall be a thirsty mad man and she will be the river that will quench my thirst satisfying my temptations. Words when I curse my fortune, my life, my existence. Words when I try to find them in these waves of destiny on my palms and forehead. Words which I want to use to express my loss, my pain, my grief, my need, my desire. Which I want to use to fill this void she created deep within me when she left.

Words, how I hate them and love them. How I use them with such ease and yet often find myself at a total loss on how to summon them.

Words. Nothing but a mere permutation of some dark spots of ink placed comfortably together or some modular variations in the wavelengths of this air all around us. No complications like quantum mechanics, thoughts of a philosopher, equations of Einstein, just simple plain words.

An Ode to Death

I went to a funeral today. As it stands I am in London right now and I have some relatives who have been based here for almost an eternity. And a human being being a social animal that he is, they obviously made acquaintances with people living around them or with those who had chosen to migrate to UK almost at the same time as they did.

One of such acquaintances of theirs was blessed with a very lovely charming intelligent and a beautiful daughter.

She was 24.
She was a meritorious students studying in one of the top notch universities of UK.
She had numerous scholarships and certificates to her name.
Her family is one of the richest in UK and most influential back home in India.
She committed suicide last week.
I never met her or knew her.
I was moved beyond my deepest emotions.

We lost our way to the crematorium and reached 5 minutes late. The service had started and the hall was packed. With many others we stood outside the hall in the chilly wind listening to all the family members paying their tributes to her. I could not see anything. I was there, standing outside the hall in a wind which was blowing with such an intensity that it might as well would have carried me with itself and with such a chill that I wished if it does indeed carry me somewhere it please be the fires of hell so that I not only get to warm myself but also reach my final destination and finally escape these dreaded talons of this life.

But no I am not that fortunate, am I? Had I been fortunate to get what I wish for, would have I ever wished to escape this vicious circle of life!

No it did not happen. No matter as much as I wished, yet I was there standing outside all the while listening to a voice booming over my head from a speaker. Wondering just why did I agree to come to this funeral in the first place when I don’t know anyone, when I have no relations with the deceased and her family other than that of humanity which as I have learned to understand the hard way does not really matter in this world and when I have long since lost my capacity to be touched by emotions such as grief.

And then she started speaking. I didn’t know who she was, perhaps her mother, or her aunt or maybe some grieved friend. I did not know then nor do I know now. But she started speaking and I was glued to where I stood. She started narrating a small poem she had written and suddenly I was washed with waves and waves of ice cold realizations which crashed over me with such fervor that the wind suddenly felt as burning ciders on my skin and just one question suddenly sprang up in my brain and spread its tentacles through my neural system with such rapidity that before I could have even realized its presence sweeping through my conscience, there it was flowing along with my blood all through my body and having already proclaimed and proven its dominance over my capacities to rationalize it was now trying to puncture that invisible barrier which separates my mortal self from my soul all the while screaming just one thing

“So what matters then in the end?”

I have been trying hard, very hard that I do not have to leave London now. I have been trying harder to clinch a job in the United States of America. I have been trying desperately that I do not have to go back to India or face my mortifying endless repeated act which us the denizens of this planet have coined job. I have gone from pillar to post to make sure I am always in touch with the “right” people, eating and drinking in the right places and made contact with the right authorities as much as I possibly can.

Would it matter to me in the end where I am burnt, dust to dust and ashes to ashes? Would I care if my car got its proper parking space or that my employer was not racist or my green card application was accepted or what my peer think of me whether I look good or am I looking to thin or am I looking too fat or whether the “right” people are attending my last journey or whether it is being organized at the right venue with kosher food and vintage wine and am dressed immaculately and I do not have stubs on my face and my hair is not messy and have they selected the best of my photographs to place along my body and is everyone seated properly and and and…….?

Would anything matter to me when I finally sleep?

Why then am I living my life too hard? Why am I always trying to be an edge apart and a step above those around me? Why do I hate some and love none? If nothing has to come to me in the end, nothing can give me all these comforts which I so desire now when I shall so need them the most why do I strive to possess it? Why then am I living now when I have to die tomorrow!? What is the purpose, the aim the final destination of my life?

My death?

That is? My life ends? Why then try so hard! Why study or work or amass wealth or love some when at the end I am going to be all alone, just me myself and I, stripped of all that I earned owned possessed and isolated of all whom I loved? Why why and why! I do not understand this. Maybe I am not supposed to, maybe I am just supposed to try my best shot at this life and take things as they come to me. But then if I am to do just that I do not understand what shall make me different from my vacuum cleaner or my TV or my car all of which can neither think or ask or analyze. All of them just do for what they are built. They have no power whatsoever to modify what is to be made of them or what is to finally become of them. My car can do little if I push it of a cliff and destroy it. My TV can not ask me why do I change channels rapidly but can only do what I wish for it to do.

Am I not like them then?

Or maybe I am worse, for all such things as cars and TVs have a purpose for which they are built. What purpose was I created for? Is there any or am I just simply a byproduct of human love? Am I worse than even the most minutest piece of machinery?

No I am not and I know that. The reason, the one thing that distinguishes me from a mechanized motorized pile of steel is my power to think and feel. And then again therein lies the cause of my misery. Why do I have this power to question the Lord when I am deprived of the ability to make him answer me! Why do I feel joy and pain when I am nothing but a puppet on this vast stage who can do little if his creator chose to end his part and pull his string?

She went on and on. Her pain was beginning to pierce me, seeping through these pores on my skin and slowly gradually mixing with my blood as if my own. I knew not why was I moved, I knew not what connection if any existed and I knew not what could I do to make her stop. Her narrations spoke of time well spent a life well lived and a death well embraced. Oh yes she was asking questions too. With her lament and her cries she was asking Lord again and again why did He have to make this 24 year old beautiful talented girl kill herself. And as He does to me, he chose not to answer her no matter her wails and sobs. The Church was quiet, the crowd was quiet and He was quiet.

Finally she stopped. Of sheer exhaustion or emotion I do not know. But yes she felt quiet. For a long time no one spoke no one breathed. We all stood quiet, very quiet. All waiting for Him to finally speak and sooth His bereaved, destroyed, devastated daughter.

He was silent still.And then there was music. Ustaad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s remarkable voice seemed as if a glass made of fine china had been delicately shattered. He sang and sang and sang. People started moving, everyone as if cajoled from a deep trance. A line began to form. We moved with the crowd of humanity which somehow now seemed more united and connected. Everyone was moving with just one aim, to hug her parents and cry and light a small little candle where she would finally be laid to rest.

And I who is ever unable to shed a tear could not do even that. I just carried my dead self back to the car heaved my body onto the seat and came back much like a dead body riding in a coffin only that my journey has not yet ended.

Rest in Peace Meeto. I was not fortunate enough to know you but I feel as if we never have been strangers. One day I will cry, and I will cry for you then. Till such time I am your guilty, forgive me.