The Ashes

He had been waiting  for the phone call from the hospital. Why hadn’t they called in the last three days? They had promised they would. It wasn’t right at all, but he didn’t know what else to do other than wait.

Last time he called them they promised to get back . They hadn’t of course. These days of waiting had drained his sap away. Just an honest answer from them would be enough. He wasn’t that soft in the head not to understand this delay tactic.

But no one these days tells you the truth anymore, especially if it hurts. Not even Mom. He was always trying to protect her but it was lost on her. The last five days she was running a low grade fever with an ever so slight a cough, almost like her normal springtime allergies, and yet she was fantasizing about a Scandinavian calming of senses. She wanted to wrap herself in gray and white and surround herself with a Swedish vibe to be oblivious of the dire predictions on TV. She was in denial, he knew. But the spa was closed of course. The Covid19 onslaught, the deaths, the waiting for the PPE’s for the life givers and ventilators for the critically ill, and the hope of those wanting to come back home was a whole new reality.

But he knew she couldn’t possibly block out the electronic and online noise about man’s most recent combat against a lethal  invisible enemy despite his urging to shut out the blasts. Maybe he was the one needing  a buffer to distance reality. Until now she had always shielded him from everything , now it was his turn to do the same to his mom. He was trying his best.

He was a caged bird knowing only the confines of the walled-in existence could be helpful for her. Most people his age had never heard the word quarantine mentioned. Hanging out at the smoke bar was a story out of the pages of a history book now. He had to give Mom a chance. He hadn’t given one to his grandpa. He would live the rest of his life with the cruel reminder of sunbathing on the beaches and pub hopping while carrying nothing but an infinitesimal virus to pass on to his favorite human being on the planet: his Dada. Life comes too loaded at times.

They were quarantined: isolated, insulated in their own island. Waiting it out. And then would they be allowed? With every single day he felt stripped of the least dignity that an inevitable  end of life situation signified for family members wanting to perform the  mourning  rituals to say goodbye to a loved one. The soul’s journey to another life was lonely, but so was theirs in secluded mourning, sequestered for what seemed an eternity.

For the millionth time, he wished he hadn’t sneaked in Dada’s favorite Marlboro to the nursing home. He knew Dada had emphysema and smoking was the hugest no-no. But then even lonely old people need treats sometimes to cheer them up in their isolation. And he himself couldn’t have felt better. Just back from his spring break on the Miami beach, he wanted to make grandpa feel special as well. Who’d have known?

The telephone was ringing.

“ It was the funeral home Mom, not the hospital.”

“Did they promise to keep the ashes for us until whenever?”

“Yeah they’ll hold on to the urn.”

“ We will give him a decent farewell Dev and drown the ashes in the holy river someday, right?”

Someday, that would be his atonement. Yes, someday he would also confess to her.

Front lines Redefined

The front lines have shifted from the borders

of Mexico and Canada to

right within, beside and around us everywhere.

Ammunitions missing, buffers missing

Yet the combat is on.

Courage and sacrifice the shields to

fight the invisible, the lethal, the ruthless.

Hercules killed the Nemean with bare hands

Our soldiers unarmed in the cage are

engaged in their labor of love

Bringing healing reminding us of the

Amazing Grace upon them.

Come and Go

Leaders come and go

Governments rule and misrule

Pundits caution and catalyze

But viruses attack and leave

a residue of all consuming fear,

paying no heed to borders or color,

race nor religion, language or status.

That’s its upside though,

coz no one talks of terror now

or all other inanities.

It’s way too terrifying, too overpowering,

We break apart, we break down.

Hunkering down in our own shelters

unified we ponder those on the precipice

may not make it. We are prayerful.

Since millennia the timeline

of humanity traces disruptions

again and again and again.

We survive these glitches,

resilience works and the tough endure,

History’s recorded anew for those who follow.

Awesome isn’t it,? But true!

We build again, join once more

Humanity heals and breathes again.

Attitude of Gratitude

My heart is overflowing right this moment:

No surprise there is food still on

the shelves and meds as well.

Tired faces sleepless so gracious

whispering kindness removed from

the chatter of those powerful but indecisive, misdirected.

No surprise magically the garbage removed,

my heart bursts with a million thanks and

I stand  both my thumbs up for the

Waste Management truck plodding.

The mail woman even smiles at me from

 forever away, gloved hands pushing

 people’s mail into the mailbox.

Miraculously my car gets a gas refill

and the masked attendant wishes me

best of health! Really?

Aren’t you more exposed than me

being in the woods while I’m home alone?

The faucet still gushes with running water

and am humbled when I turn on the heat and light

coz the energy workers have our backs.

Amazing that the phone works and

the media anchors keep us rooted, grounded

 in a functioning democracy.

The man in uniform at the intersection

nudges me as I return from the CVS realizing

it’s curfew already. Am still getting used to a new reality.

but Law Enforcement is at work thank God!

Masked(?), gowned(?) gloved(?) hopefully

our very own Gods saving humanity

sacrifice incarnate!

We are in it together, and we will get there,

In the meantime-

I want to hug each of them

from miles away and say

Thank you for caring for us all.

But feel no thanks is  enough.

What if I told you

What if I told you that you

put a song in my heart when

your eyes peered into my soul and

made me someone bigger than me.

Now I stand in a pool of sallowness in

 the saging of the heart the waging of the war

with all that forces my body to fade

into a specter rather wasted but

gallant in the face of forces

pretending to be stronger than me.

What if I told you that I sing the song

still in my dreams and waking.

Will that lift us up?

Will you keep holding my hand and

breathe your promise as you did once?

Faith everlasting.

  Bulrushes by the wayside                                                               

By the wayside  bulrushes grow wild

whacked by the wind as the cars speed by

They will purify the river just

 wayward flowing towards no sea

Ages of muck sitting at the bottom

have to be scrubbed clean bring in the surge

reach the sea surf  rest after the tumult.

Alone in the open with the wind

on the face the scent of grass I taste

the anthem of  blue jays in my heart

 raindrops in my soul the spring in me

The wilderness around my solace

the angry storm raging  cow me down

but I am  brave inside sure I can.

Rainbow

While

White smoke unfurls curls upwards

from the tall steel pipes to touch the clouds,

The furnace blasts bloody fire ruby red also neon blue,

You held my hand your lips on mine,

Like base metal to gold I melted like the black ore,

Bloody fire in my veins too piercing my very core.

Breathing in breathing out an awareness:

I am the light like you and can

listen to our silence within .

Love tempers solders  emboldens uplifts

Leavens  the humdrum tears all bounds,

Ride the rainbow and hear the plainsong

everywhere.