Sunday 14 October 2012

Hot Hot Air

My poems are everywhere! I better immortalized (!!) them electronically.

Hot Hot Air

Their feet buried in the hot soil,
But their hearts still love the toil,
Of cutting, and levelling, and cutting and killing,
The one heart that they so desperately need.

They breathed in the unnatural air,
That constricts and hisses at lung's depth,
As their breaths grew shorter, the air got hotter,
And their minds justly got smaller.

Let them lick their own wound I say,
But darling their wounds are on your skin,
Let them be pickled in their own sweat then,
But my love, aren't you drowning in yours?

See how unfair they made it?
Are we not all on the same boat?
It's not your place to boast and gloat,
Stop taking my right for clean air,
And we'll make this just and fair!


How Sadness Works

Let me tell you what grief does to you.

It will be exactly 7 months tomorrow since my mother passed away. I've gotten to know grief quite well know. In fact, to say that grief and I are mere acquaintances will be an understatement.

Grief surprisingly has many facades to it. There's the physical pain; the stomach cramps, the painful heart, the raw nose from too many harsh tissues... and there's also the emotional torture. A maze of unexpected pain that I was (and still am) forced to go through over and over again.

I don't remember the first few days after her death very well. There were faces, sympathetic ones mostly, and tears. The loud sobbing stifled into pillows. I went on autopilot. Emails to be sent out, finances to be secured, aeroplane tickets that need to be changed. I did it all. Braved myself into going on aeroplanes alone. I was surprised at how calm I was. I did not cry everyday. Even when I had to endure the very worst of human nature (...we can't refund you on your Tanzania trip because you knew your mother was sick before you made the bookings.. thank you insurance companies. May you burn in Hell a million times for your kindness) I was fine. Stayed with friends. It was as if nothing happened. Looking back, that was definitely the numb phase. You will become immune to the constant threat of warm tears behind your eyes. As if magic was real, you do not cry, you can suck your tears dry.

When I got home, I busied myself with chores at home and the wedding preparation. Even when I'm sorting my mother's mementos, I did not cry. It wasn't easy though. I was angry. I was disappointed. I was angry at everyone who still had both of their parents. I was angry at everyone who got to have a nice elective. I was angry at everyone who's wedding and graduation pictures have both their parents in them. I was very angry at myself because I was jealous of everyone else's happiness. People were moving on. I was still stuck in March, trying desperately to rewind the days leading up to her death. If they had told me sooner, if I had caught the earlier plane... all the "what ifs" were killing me. Grief was my only friend in those days.

And then I got married to the most wonderful man on earth! Again I did not cry during the wedding (phew!) I am so thankful for that.

So.... seven months down the road..what did I learn?

1. Grief is a surprisingly good wake-up call from God to you. You learn to prioritise. You learn to love in the right order. You learn to depend on Him and Him alone. I am forever grateful that I have been given this call at a young age. My life priorities have definitely changed now.

2. Grieving is very tiring. Very very tiring. The physical pain, the emotional torture..... The most cruel torture grief can throw you, I believe, is the dreams. In a lot of the dreams, she was alive. The conversations were normal, with just a hint of something that was not right. When you wake up though, the first thing you'll realise is.." she's dead. she's dead. She's never coming back" so you have to spend all of your energy trying to convince yourself that your mother is never going back and also to remember every bit of the said dream...only torturing yourself further. I hate them.

3. You can grieve not only for the past..but also for the present and the future. Your wedding..she won't be there. Your graduation... she won't be there. The birth of your first child...she won't be there... The future is tainted. The stain won't go away. That's why grief is my BFF.

4. Sometimes some people have not gone through this type of pain before. Sometimes they seemed insensitive to a grieving person's needs.. I have to be the bigger person and not take their comments to heart.

5. Plans are made to be broken. Stop dwelling.

So that's my little introduction to grief.

Al-Fatihah to my beautiful mother, dearly missed.