Friend and a Friend

Sachiv stood staring at the card he had made. Would Bheru like it, he wondered. The card was a square piece of paper with a line that started straight, curving down to the right. It read, "I am Sorry". Under it, the boy had drawn two stick figured boys, with smiles that were as wide as the faces. His friend, Bheru stood across from him, he stared at his shoes and stole quick glances towards Sachiv. Sachiv was nervous, he wondered whether he and Bheru would be friends again. Bheru was his best friend, and who would he play cricket with if Bheru wasn't there?

Yesterday had been like any other day, they had both walked from their bus and before going home had decided to meet as always at 4:30, after finishing homework. Today they planned on playing football. It was different everyday, sometimes football, or cricket, or maybe basketball. They always played with Sachiv's toys, as Bheru didnt have any. Sachiv didnt mind at all, he liked sharing his toys. At 4:30 Sachiv reached the playground with his football. He kicked around the ball as he waited for his friend. Bheru showed up eventually, he came walking, his hands in his pockets, his face grim.
"Oh there you are, your lateee" Sachiv exclaimed, kicking the ball towards Bheru. Bheru didnt kick the ball back. He stood still, staring at Sachiv with a mixed expression.
"Helloo, whts wrong with you? Don't you wanna play?"
No reply from Bheru.
"We can play cricket if you want, I'll go bring the bat"
Bheru walked towards his friend, and said in a low voice.
"Shut up Sachiv. I dont want to play with YOUR cricket bat, YOUR basketball, YOUR football....I hate you, leave me alone."
Sachiv stood still for a moment, and then he pushed his best friend, and screamed,
"Fine then, I dont wanna be you friend. You dont even have a toy to play, how will you play. I never wanna talk to you again. Leave...go away."
Bheru stood up, his hands were scraped. His expression of anger had turned into sadness.
He said again in a low voice.
"I am sorry". And then he turned around and ran.
Sachiv felt bad right away. He had pushed his friend, and said bad things to him. And he wasn't able to say sorry. He decided he would make a card for him and give it to him the next day at bus stop. But he didnt undersatnd why his friend had said what he had. He was always nice.

Within the next ten minutes, before the bus came Sachiv and Bheru became friends again. Soon after, the event was completely forgotten and Sachiv didn't wonder why Bheru had acted so the day before. But as the days went, Bheru came out to play lesser and lesser. At times he didn't come out for days. And when Sachiv would go to his house, and knock on the door, no one would open the door. Though often times he would hear screaming, and someone shouting from inside. Eventually within the year Bheru and his family moved away from the town. In the beginning Sachiv cried for his friend, but eventually he forgot him as he made new friends.

It was only years later he would remember his friend again, when he would hear his mother offhandedly mention Bheru and his family. The financial problems they had been in, the fights his parents had all the time. The screaming and shouting, neighbors could hear. At that time, Sachiv suddenly remembered his first real friend. Bheru. Who had always been nice, except in the last few months before he had left. He remembered the time Bheru refused to play with him, and the new knowledge made him realize the reason behind Bheru's strange behavior.

Years later when Sachiv would be trying to understand people's behavior, he would often delve into the reasons. He knew reasons didn't always justify behaviors, but there were always reasons. And he would often wonder about Bheru, who had taught him this.

Subtleties

The bending road, curves into the impossibilities of life,
along with the road the mind travels.
It stops as the red dot emerges, spreading.
The minds starts to wonder as to what lies beyond itself
It tries to grasp the subtleties governing it.
Unable to grasp, it shudders
Had it truly never understood itself?

All this time, never had it stopped and thought.
Life had went on, like a lazy stream.

Was happiness, gaining respect by being what someone had asked one to be
Or
Is unhappiness living a life in which one truly doesnt know oneself,
living a life of dishonesty, not only cheating others but also oneself.

The board of Destiny

The pond in the gloomy sunset looked red
like blood
A bad omen.
Foreshadowing the destruction the morning would cause?

What had I done?
For
the humiliation I had felt, the hardships I had faced
how much had I let vengeance take over me...

Would I be the destruction of the world I knew,
of my husbands, my brother, my sons, the brother of my husband they knew not of.
Would I be the cause of bloodshed, the unrighteousness that will come about in the next eighteen days?

Or.
Was all this never in my hands
Was it already etched into palms, written on foreheads, laid somewhere out there as the fate of mankind long before the epitome of time came about.
Was I just a player in the hands of destiny?
A dice thrown as a clever strategy to end what needed to end, and to start anew?

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Dedicated to: Panchaali

Influenced by: The palace of Illusions and the Mahabharata

____________________________________________________________________

The thread no longer intact

What had I expected?
A thread forever stretching, connecting us.
Regardless of the circumstances, regardless of time--and its way of snapping invisible threads

How easily one forgets the brighter days, only remembering those few dreary ones...
Which end up changing relationships.

Maybe we understand little, assume too much
And expect a lot more then we should
Delving forever into the mistakes? that the other makes

What remains now are just the awkward silences between conversations filled with fluff

The thread no longer intact...

Believing in Beliefs

A few years ago I would have considered myself to be spiritual. I believed strongly. I believed regardless of what may be happening. Something inside of me that I could hold on it. It enabled me to get through many things without having to look for something beyond it, outside of me. And then suddenly the belief disappeared. Just like that. I can say it may have happened around three years ago when I was washed away by other things, superficial things. I tucked the belief inside of me, I ignored it and almost let it all go. Ironically at that time I assumed that I was more spiritual, a stronger believer. But I was wrong. And when things unexpectedly started hitting me, tripping me, hurting me I looked for support in other places not once believing in the belief hiding somewhere inside. And just when I thought I had failed completely, I believed once again. Suddenly it was back. And I found myself on the path again. The belief had bought back a lot to me. A closure and a beginning. It bought back confidence, a sense of direction.
Whether it is belief in God, or a child's belief that their blanket can keep them safe or other beliefs, it is beliefs and the hopes that they bring that keep us going at times.

Someone special

In the path of life we come across many people

Some we never forget.

They are the people who...
Even though at one point may not travel the path with you...
return in the form of warm memories.

People who are special and unforgetful.
Who have made you smile, made your days brighter.

Happy Birthday Zephyr27
May all yours dreams come true.

A glassed fu'ad

Ties.
Build homes in hearts...
of glass.
Beautiful but very fragile
Easily shattered by a mistrusted stone.
Into thousands, millions of pieces...
forever broken?
Never to be rebuilt?

Time, it will take to put the pieces together again.
A smile, a glimpse
a something
may help.
But how long will it take...
to look upon the glass home once again.
Before its shattered by just a gust of wind.