Unforgiven - I

The light of the day, the dark of the night, even the somber radiance of twilight, mean nothing to me anymore. My life is enveloped by an impenetrable cloud that endears an unending gray all around me. Every fleeting moment was tantamount to the one before, brandished with guilt. But even amidst my immortal guilt, I think of her. I think of her every moment.
Many people had been knitted with her in her abridged yet consequential life. Even I had loved her beyond conception, but I had fathomed her real worth only in death. I was the one vested with the powers to salvage her, but I failed. My medical prowess, which I had always deemed as the ultimate ordnance to thwart the atrocities against humanity, has now turned into a dagger baptized in my own venomous guilt, stabbing through my heart.
As my second born, Isobel was never the subject of any special attention. Never as much even when she developed the initial signs of respiratory polio and I overlooked. And it wasn’t until one morning when I found her conked out in her bedroom that I realized what was on the verge of occurrence. But alas! It was too late.
Since that unfortunate event, I have been groveling in indignant guilt. Even so much that I have given up my practice and even to some extent leaving the house. My entire world has shrunk to a gray cloud enveloping me. I have rummaged within myself and in the world around me in the quest for redemption, for my failure as a father, failure as a doctor and moreover for my loss of faith in my profession. But my grievances shadowed me even there. Thus I sought solace in oblivion. I have decided to keep myself inebriated every moment of this condemned life. So what if it can’t keep the guilt away but it sure keeps the pain within limits. The incessant stabbing continues, but the alcohol numbs my senses.
In this maze of my indulgence, I have mislaid myself. And I know that I have wronged Laura, in depriving her of her father. She had done nothing to deserve a fate like this. But my remorse for loosing Isobel is predominant on my guilt over Laura. It is my redemption, to seek salvation in my guilt. Perhaps I shall remain unforgiven by both, my dead and living daughter, forever.
                                                                                                                        ~   Dr. Luis Castellano

Thought For Food

Food.. is to my brain, what Music.. is to my ears. I am not some bon vivant, who prefers delicate, extravagant and complicated little food. Indeed I am a very simple rice-curry-eating, street-food-craving glutton. Most people that know me well, including my parents and close friends, would indubitably deny any association of mine with such a sin. They wouldn't even acknowledge me as someone who appreciates or even cares about what I indulge my hapless taste buds in. But well masqueraded by my callous self, there is 'a little secret me'.
To be honest, there are days, indeed there are several days when I simply gulp down the first edible thing I see or nibble on a piece of bread mindlessly until the end of time. But there are times, weird times, when that little secret me rises from the ashes of my epicurean wishes, like a phoenix, and causes mayhem on my palate. And that me has a brain of its own. When the mood strikes, it can move mountains, or at the very least my lazy a** :P
So what I am trying to render is that I am a connoisseur of food in my own unique way. I don't just use it for the gratification of my metabolic needs or the indulgence of my taste buds, but I think about it, discreetly, i.e. when I have my brain at my disposal, free from all the futile worries of the world. And I am fond of cooking too.. not because my culinary skills are an exceptional knack I inherited.. but because it hands me the baton to lead the orchestra to play the symphony I want and how I want. Now where other than your own kitchen will you get that sort of great power.. without much of the great responsibility which usually comes along (as long as you don’t kill poor bystanders).
I spent a pretty copious chunk of my adult life in 'The Land Of Ideas'. Now that, it sure was.. but what I soon discovered it certainly wasn't, was ‘the land of assorted delectable and piquant cuisine’. Moreover hailing from the land of spices further aggravated my woes. My fastidious requisites for ambrosial food rendered me unable to appreciate the relatively bland food 'The Land Of Ideas' had to offer. And the exposure to such trenchant and contradicting tastes and flavours had made it practically impossible to distinguish subtle flavours and detect hints of little somethings in other somethings (like cinnamon flavoured bread or vanilla  flavoured croissant). Also, the way we spice-land people spice up our meat, it leaves little scope for us to relish meat in any other form.
So yeah.. I spent a good part of my life.. yearning, craving and whining for all the taste-bud ecstasy I was missing. In due time, I retired to the misfortune of my hapless taste buds and that little secret me inside me went into hibernation. Although once in a blue moon, I would take a few detours from my rather engaged schedule and try to come up with some itsy bitsy treat for my reward pathway. But that wasn't enough. My drab and dreary life lingered on in a land where I could only fantasize about rewarding my reward pathway.
But well times change.. And so did mine. It was just when my taste buds were on the verge of turning numb, that I made a discovery. The path wasn't easy. I had to pop the bubble around me and dive in to explore new tastes. I had to wipe the slate clean lest it indulged in comparisons. To relish each new taste for the way it was, without any prejudices, was of paramount significance to me. It took a considerable amount of time. But I got there. And when I got there.. I discovered a whole new paradise of epicurean delight.
German food in its own very way can blow your mind away. It’s not delicate like the French, which I personally, find rather pretentious. For I believe that the purpose of good food is to make you feel like you won't need to eat ever again and not just provide a pretty sight or a savoury whiff. German food may not be as pretty and perfect but it sure leads you to gastronomical ecstasy and the complacency of your heart. And if you are a vegetarian, my apologies, you have just a few many ways to embark upon the orgasmic ride to palate paradise.
Once I had unearthed this awesomeness in edible form, there was no looking back. And if you are wondering why this unusual post, then.. the answer is sheer nostalgia. Therefore I would like to direct you to the following link (which is a fun read btw). It unleashed some good old finger-licking .. err umm.. better yet fork-and-knife-licking memories.
In conclusion I would like to say a word or two of wisdom :D  (presented to you as I had once acquired them from a very wise person I knew)..
"One should always keep an open mind to something new and different. That is the secret mantra for maintaining a scrap book of great new experiences."

The Other Woman

As I watched him walk away, I felt a piece of my heart breaking. Everything appeared ambiguous and bleary as my eyes brimmed with tears. Those precarious manifestations of distress had surreptitiously welled up, scornfully loathing the pseudo smile I had managed to work up. I knew somewhere in my heart, that he had a morbid inclination too, or maybe I preferred to believe so... But somehow it wasn't very obvious. There was a spring in his gait, a sparkle in his eyes and a mirth in his words, which he tried very hard to fa├žade, but unfortunately, I saw right through him, just like every other time. I did not understand it. Over the years, we had grown so fond of each other, shared every secret, sulked together at every failure and rejoiced in each other's every infinitesmal success.  Then why have we grown apart now...

He couldn’t possibly have stopped loving me. That morning, when he had walked up to me, I could already sense something queer. I have always had the uncanny knack of forseeing trouble. He, with great reverence, suggested that it would be better if we introduced some segregation in our lives. That way we could both lead our personal lives. Personal lives.. I didn’t have a life other than him. When he was sick, I nursed him. When my husband deserted me, I cried and bellowed in his arms. Every time agony struck me, this face brought a smile on my lips.  I didn’t want to, but I agreed because I didn’t want to dishearten him. For so long, we had resurrected each other's faith in the world, now it was time to validate our trust in each other. Times and things had changed.

The first time I descried about her, my intuition poked and jeered at me. ‘She is the one. She will snatch him away from right under your nose.’ But I chose to disbelieve. The first time he lied to me, it was for her. But I chose to ignore. Then he married her. I thought I could live with that. But then, she went a step ahead, and veered him away from me. He was as impeccable and mellow as wet clay. She molded him into something different and variegated. He was an altered person. His unconditional love for me had changed. And he left me, for the other woman.

He reassured me that we would always remain in touch. But I was sure, soon he would be dexterously engrossed in his work and his new life with her.  And I would just remain a fading figment of his past, en ephemeral sense of nostalgia and an occasional phone call. For him, I would always embody a lingering sense of guilt. And to me, he would always herald a few sanguine expectations.

My little boy had grown up. It made me happy, but it also broke my heart to see him walk away from me... leave my hand and lead his own life. But as his mother, it was my duty to let go.

Inconvenient Irony

“I don’t think it’s possible to live with you any longer.”

“Oh good! You almost snatched away that concern from my mind.”

“Anyways who would like to put up with a critical bastard like you.”

“Oh please! You think it’s easy to cope with your emotional outbreaks, mood swings and impulsive decisions.”

“Of course not. How can it be.. coz rationalizing and analyzing is the best way to deal with everything.”

“There is no such word as ‘coz’, it is ‘because’.”

“Oh yeah thanks for reminding me of your favorite hobby, i.e. finding bloopers in my words. Damn!”

“Alright! THAT is your problem? How about your exasperating practice of getting late every-fucking-single time? Why can’t you ever be ready on time? I am always running late because of you.”

“So what if I am a little late, at the very least I can find my own way to places without getting confounded at every freaking turn.”

“God! I don’t understand why on earth am I stuck with you.”

“Damned be ‘Anatomy’ ”

            -      And thus went on the squabble between the left and right lobes of the brain :D 


Say I am a fish. Alright.. that wouldn’t work for this story. So no, I am not a fish, rather say I am a mermaid. And I fell heads-over-heels in love with a man, a remarkable man indeed. However we both pertained to two completely divergent worlds. But for our surreptitious love to burgeon, we had to find a way to transcend nature’s boundary. Thus I prayed to God to lead me to a happily-ever-after. After praying for a long time, God rewarded my diligence and reverence by granting me only one wish. And this wish would lead me to my happily-ever-after. My predicament now is what would be the most idoneous wish to make. Should I ask to be transformed into a human so that I can spend my life with the love of my life? But then, am I ready to lose my existence for gaining love? Should I wish for him to renounce his own world and expect him to embrace mine as his own? Would that be too preposterous? Or should I wish for the extinction of this ethereal feeling of love from my notion and lead my life as it was? If I pick either of the options, then will I be able to live with the compunction of my choice? Suggestions?

Sweet Satire

“Damn! I am sick and tired of this. It is turning into an onerous obligation. I wonder how much longer we can keep this up.”

“Why does He do this to us? Does He not appreciate us at all?”

“Huh! His reverence is pretty palpable.”

“Men.. always oblivious of what they have… taking everything for granted.”

“Well.. well.. Life condones none. And when realization strikes, it’ll be too late and we’ll be gone.”

One alveolus in a smoker’s lung ranting to another.