Broken Again

 Endometrial polyp surgery on May 23rd , 2026. Surgery minor or major nearly feels the same emotionally. The fear, anticipation, strength and victory. 

Some things stay strong.

 People stand by you. Your people. And other people. The front line workers. But most of all people just come and help , like the rocks that build the path for you to move ahead. That defeats the deadly covid virus.

When all seems lost, some power fights your battle.

Covid 19: the experience

 Infected. With two negative swab tests, one can be infected too. There are other methods like ct scan, that prove otherwise. From knowing deep down that your worst fear will come true to it coming true. .it takes few hours. Then you leave your family and fight the virus, fight to live alone. 

Fever like never before. You float ..

You float, fever becomes water

Ripples in the river Ganga

The final journey ,your lamp floats

Alongside

Suddenly you are just a white flower

Drifting away, anchorless

Then comes a solid hand

Fingers hold your white flower.

It doesn't drift anymore

The fingers, rudraksha beads around the wrist

The red flower

The track is a walk
For a jog or a walk
The grass not wild
Not allowed to run free

The flower was a bud
Seen as grass
Missed by the big snip
Then red bright
In the middle of the track

More like a weed
Than a flower
Thought the grass
Running too wild
Sitting shamelessly
Beautiful .

The trudging feet
Will crush it now
But the feet stopped
The red flower
In the middle of the track
Beautiful
Made the routine jog
The disciplined green of the grass
With one red flower
Looked like it held
The whole garden in there
Hidden in just one red bloom.

The extended pause

There was a time few weeks back I was stuck , still. Yet a lot was going on. My bones broke. I could not walk. I did not know how. The pain was killing all hope. But I was trying. Constantly. I was not clear what the next step was. But I was not willing to accept being frozen. 

The first free steps felt unsteady. And now with coronavirus ,the world has stopped. As I am in the last leg of my recovery , the only thing I haven't tried yet is going out far on my own.  

Without even knowing when ,feet have learnt to bear my whole being again. At home with no maids the feet have supported me through kneading dough to washing utensils. 

Still , stand still everything

The black sheet of the night

Open your eyes

You will see the faraway tree

Standing under the stars

Empty roads

Sound of a car

As you listen to them

One road leads to another

The railway yard

It's empty

The trains trail the tracks

Empty coaches

Still have windows

That look out.

Stuck

It is tough being in one spot. Tough to not be able to change the way things head. Yes, I am able to walk independently at home. But the doctor says it not how it should be.

The gap between feet is too wide. Yes, I need to correct it. Walk straight. Week 13 post operation.

It's not how it should be

The line of white on your black

Let it be straight

Let it not enjoy the scribble

The woman is thin 

Beautiful.

But her lips don't need that pout

It doesn't look pretty

For the colour she is

Doesn't blend at all

The step needs the right step

Not the dance on the wave of music

There is graph

There is a map

Technique

Thousand ways 

Trodden tracks

A little detour

A little climb up the hill

The stumble

That broke you

The fire and light

Warmth of the bonfires

Lit just for you

Sit there and listen

To the crackling of wood

Alive!

The joy and Miracle of walking

It has taken me two months and a week or so to begin to walk without the walker. I get to hold the hand I love to assist me in walking.

Since three days I have taken stairs,  walked from small round to 3 rounds around the children play area. I have crossed a busy street,  typical to Mumbai style  gesturing with hand for vehicles to let us cross.

Through this journey of breaking bones,  to sitting still while the healing was in process,  is in process I realized the power of patience,  of something supreme in you that has survived all the pain,  something that stood up again like a small weed in a storm.

There is power that is common and runs in everything in this universe. Something that like the rising sun takes over the eternal darkness of the night, there is also something that lets you break so that you stumble,  try, stumble like the blind on the uneven terrain  until you walk.. Again