Tag Archives: grief

Rings of Smoke.

I was 7 when I saw you for the very first time, blowing rings of smoke into the air,
I mustered enough courage to tell you to stop, only because I genuinely cared.
But all you did was you ruffled my hair, said “Just one last time, I’ll finish it fast!”
One hour I waited as the entire packet ran out, and the cigarette butts littered the grass.

At 16, I came home from college one night, saw you standing at the frame of the door,
The stench of tobacco and traces of ash, enraged every part of me to my core.
I shouted, I screamed, about the fears in my dreams, wondering what would convince you to drop it.
But all you did was you ruffled my hair, and said “Just one last time and then I’ll stop it.”

At 21, when Mom left us all for good, I saw you crying and slowly breaking apart,
Breathing in wisps from a million smokes, hoping it would help fill the hole in your heart.
I begged, I pleaded, told you this was not what you needed, desperate to turn you into a new leaf,
“Just one last time” you said once again, “I need it to keep me from drowning in grief.”

From that time on, not a day went by, that you tried to stick to the promises you’d made,
I constantly reminded, that the smoke had you blinded, to your health which had started to degrade.
Then came a point when I had to accept, that nothing could change how things were,
My words to you, were like the smoke you blew, they swiftly vanished into thin air.

So I decided to keep absolutely quiet, never to give you a warning in the coming years,
Why should I waste my breath to save yours, when I saw it all falling on deaf ears?
Not that you seemed to care anyway, one cigarette lead to the next like a trigger,
I sat and watched in painful silence, as the heap of burnt matches and smokes grew bigger.

Now that I stand over your hospital bed, in silence broken only by the ECG’s noise,
Your million cigarettes burning a hole in my heart, knowing I said nothing when I had the choice.
Now the cancer works its way through your lungs, and I can do nothing at all but squirm,
Realizing that through the years by gone, all I needed to do was be a little more firm.

Then you opened your eyes and looked at me, we both didn’t know what to say,
Both of us knew that if we’d played our parts, things wouldn’t have ended this way.
It was far too late to see things now, through the smoke that made our lives gray,
“Just one last time” you managed to say, and then like the rings of smoke faded away.

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Spoken Poetry #1 – Dear Mom.

It completely slipped my mind that I should probably put my first Spoken Poetry performance here. I loved every second of that experience; being on stage, taking something so immensely personal and getting the audience to live it with me. So here it is, a letter to someone I miss every single day. Dear Mom, this one is for you.


Lethal Addictions.

I have been in a complicated relationship for a while now, and it is starting to devour me as time crawls by. I know you want to ask why; so tonight I’ll give my sorrows the vent they always needed. Tonight, you will know all the concerns that went unheeded. I no longer want my silence to be treated like dirt; just because I kept quiet does not mean it did not hurt. 

For the last three years that I have been with you, for you, around you, I went out of my way to be the person I thought you’d love more than anything else, every single day. I have tried even harder since the very first day you lost your heart, and I did my best to clean your mess despite not knowing where to start. I knew that you would never be the same again, probably never find the will to love through pain; but I burnt myself to the ground to make sure that you’d have at least one reason to change that. Clearly, it wasn’t enough. Or maybe, I wasn’t enough. I was never the kind to openly acknowledge this feeling of jealousy, of envy, that is now a part of me, but what she does to you leaves me wondering if I ever made a difference to the indifference with which you treat your pain.  

She makes you feel the way I could never do, the exact same way I always wanted to. I envy the care with which your fingers caress her lengths. I despise the nights you spend tasting nothing but her essence, breathing her in, leading her in to your deepest, darkest corners. She wanders through places where I’ve always wanted to go, exploring dormant reasons I’ve always been dying to know. I always wished I could be something like that, who you could turn to, but somewhere fate and your actions convinced me that I wasn’t supposed to.

Yes, it breaks me. Sometimes I can’t understand why I’m so angry, but I’ve started to realize it is only because you make me. She isn’t good for you, I am. I am not like she is; a temporary pleasure, a desperate measure stemming from unwarranted pressure. I love you and take nothing in return. I just wish you’d drop the cigarettes Dad, before she truly starts to burn.

Why don’t you understand that I haven’t been oblivious to all the signs that I’ve seen- crushed empty packs under the bed, the bathroom smelling of nicotine? When will you understand that white smoke does nothing to fill black holes, or that smoking kills 5 million callous souls, every single year? How do you not expect me to be overwhelmed? What if in the next five million, you’re one of them? 

I have already lost one parent to cancer, you know it better than I do. Yet you embrace an element that causes the same travesty, that took your wife, your life, away from you. I can’t rewrite your past but I can dictate where your future lies, and that future lies with two kids who hold you as the biggest inspiration in their eyes. So, close this chapter, label it fiction; start a new book far away from your lethal addiction. Convince me that this complicated relationship will get somewhere better. Because I certainly won’t run out after a pack, or fade into the night sky in seconds; I won’t strangulate you slowly as time beckons. The only similarity I have with your cigarettes is that I will love you until I burn to ashes. And you know what? I’ll love you even after that.
I know she keeps you company, but you need to know one simple rule. The human body was never meant to inhale fire, only because it runs on fuel. Your head rushes with emotions and memories, mine does too. But my love transcends the smoke you breathe to keep your sanity next to you. 

So this Father’s Day, I hope that my gift to you, is also your gift to mine. I hope you understand that I’d do anything it takes to make sure you’re fine. You’ve always been there for me, now this is my turn. So please drop those cigarettes Dad, before they truly start to burn.


The Days I Dread.

I will never forget,
those days of dread.
I blinked back tears
a million fears,
saw crushed veneer,
I was almost dead.
But I lay hanging
by a thread,
Dangling, dangerously
like the thoughts in my head.

Pain, rejections,
Drugs, injections
Confusion, haze
A never ending maze.
I thought, fought
dried up like a drought,
never wanting to wake up
again.

And then you walked in,
Through the pain, the sins
and you made me smile,
from within.
I learnt to live,
I learnt to give,
A part of me wanted to breathe
again.

You shone bright
All in spite,
of dark rooms
with flickering lights.
You were the best thing
I had ever met,
How can I forget
those days of dread?

And now you lie
In a hospital bed,
Not a word, no sign
of anything said.
Your skin untouched,
but your soul has bled.
You are quiet,
But I can hear you cry out for help.

They told me why,
silence is your drape
6 monsters,
took turns to rape.
Used, abused,
no escape.
Battered, shattered
You screamed for help,
It never came.

How I wish
I could save,
Your life, your essence,
from a fate so grave.
Something, anything
to keep you brave,
as your hope, your senses cripple
and give away.

I hate how much
I couldn’t do.
Couldn’t give back
how much I got from you.
You wiped those tears
when I was crying,
Now I’m alive
and you are dying.
But I’m going to sit here,
and wait.
And keep trying
to delve just once
Into your head
Repeat every single word you said
Hoping, praying
It brings you back from the dead
But right now
as I sit beside your bed
Time inching, crawling
limping ahead,
I can’t help remembering
those days of dread
The ones that I
will never forget.