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

The breeze

Today I went down first time after December 4,the fall. It felt so nice to see everything unchanged and welcoming.

The foot swells but manages.  Today I went out with my husband for a drive.  The leg managed standing,  walking with walker but still.  :)

Bigger surprise

We got a new 55inch TV.  My husband picked up our sleepy 9 yr old and brought him in front of the big screen. He was happy with the surprise.  

Later he told me when he was told there is a big surprise for him.. He thought I,  his mother was walking normally like before.  The walker was not aiding me.

I must walk my steps to make his surprise real soon. 

Barefooted month

Yesterday,  I put my floaters on for sometime.  I walked in the house using footwear.  It's my way of getting ready for stepping on my two,  out in the world. I am getting there slowly.  I could walk around,  stand in front of the dev ghar,  do namaskar to the power. 

The ankle has lot of swelling,  pain,  stiffness  continues. I am waiting for the day it will not be there.  Till then I am walking on one and half feet. Physiotherapy is helping me get my foot back. 

It's a journey of my broken ankle,  missing out on my routine joys of life.  It's a journey of understanding everything broken mends. Nature has the power to rebuild. 

First PT

Today was a day of twisting and making circles with the broken ankle.  The Physiotherapist,  a good friend came home and did the first session. It was painful then,  loosened up the tight muscles etc but left me in pain seeking a pain killer. 

The world outside seems distant from where I stand resting one full foot and toes of the broken. How many days till I venture out again?

There are times you get tired of waiting for normalcy. But,  if you think about it some days from now it will be a survival story to be proud of.  Sometimes the bravest thing to do is wait,  have trust that you are getting there.. How much ever static it seems there is momentum always. 

The break,  the night in icu, the release,  the pain everything is moving. 

Cast off

After a month in complete isolation inside the tight cast,  my ankle and the leg did some mending.  Yesterday the Dr.  Completed one phase of the recovery,  my cast was taken off,  ankle xrayed.  The ankle seemed frozen,  so sore.  I kept thinking what would be my ankle's next protective cover. 

My turn came.  The Dr.  Said no shielding anymore.  Now simply attack the impossible looking hurdle.  Walk! Fifty % bear the weight on the broken ankle's toes and go.  On the Doctor's   table my frozen toes,  froze several degrees more.

Before I knew what was up,  the Dr.  Held my toes and twisted them saying there is no surgery there.  The ankle has rod and screws.  I screamed as he straightened my toes.  The next task was to walk.  Fifty percent weight bearing.  The pain left every nerve in my body on high alert.  I couldn't walk a step  yesterday.

Today my foot walked.. Few steps.  But one milestone achieved.  Putting weight on the walker,  using my good and broken ankle I managed the equation. 

From my feet's point of view

My feet see nature outside the balcony.  The brown,  broken,  crumpled leaves have left the tree.  A pair of squirrels run on the path like smooth branches. Green pods are everywhere on the tree.  These pods have cotton in it in the summer months.  The tree spends entire winter in letting the flowers become pods. 

Pink,  red new leaflets are seen at places.  Barren,  expect for the green pods and few instances of leafs it looks beautiful. Everything about us is like that too.  We are so much like the season and it's changing shades.  Patience and hard work,  every grain of sand from the hourglass,  everything needs momentum. 

The energy,  the fire in the cold night,  the cracking dry wood to the drops of rain  landing on the cracked earth and turning the soil to mud.  The energy is us.  The rain,  the fire,  the tree and changing seasons is us.