2012 Review

And another one bites the dust. We are one year older, one year wiser and one year uglier than we were last year.

This is an important year. More important than I had imagined earlier. I did so much. I failed and succeeded. I wrote obsessively. I scored. I prayed. I disliked. I quit.

Would I do it all over again if I get a chance? Probably not. Some seasons should never come back and this was one of those seasons.

But I've learned a lot this year. I learned that things don't always turn out the way you planned, or the way you think they should, and it is not necessarily a bad thing.  And I've learned that there are things that go wrong that don't always get fixed or get put back together the way they were before. I've learned that good people also hurt you - no matter how good they are, at some point they are bound to hurt you too and its alright

I've learned that some broken things stay broken, and I've learned that you can get through bad times and keep looking for better ones, even when you don't have people who support you.

 And now I stand here in this strange season, in this beautiful weather, trying to find a direction. There are no familiar faces around to guide me, no matter how hard I try to look for them, but I know why that is. They are not supposed to be here. Its my time to get up myself and figure it out. Otherwise I will never learn.

But the good news is that once I get up and put myself together, work up the courage to turn the corner of the street I had been looking at for such a long time now, I will bump into a stranger, we will smile at each other and somehow all will be well again. Its only a matter of getting up and turning around that corner. I know I'm still a little bent, a little crooked, but I can't complain. After bearing through all kinds of abuses this year and crashing into dead ends and living through overdoses, I feel better now than I did five years ago. I might have some scar tissue, but that's alright, I'm still making progress. I hope you are too.

So, here's to another year of kicking and struggling,laughing and loving.

Bible bashing father

The bible bashing father, who was more than just a bible basher.

Our father was supposed to be the head of the family. After all, he was God's chosen representative. 

Everything he said was right. He could never be wrong, by definition. If he was with us, nothing bad could ever befall us. When he was in the car, we could never have a car accident,

He was the father of all fathers. His own father had never spent much time teaching, or disciplining him, and so he wanted to not be so neglectful in bringing up any of his own children,"Spare the rod, and spoil the child," was his often quoted favourite verse in his well worn, well pencilled over, and very well read bible.

It was a bright sunny afternoon, my mum had gone away for the weekend to visit her own mother, in 'ushago'.This was a good four hours drive away from where we lived.  She had left me home with my Dad. There was only him and me. I hated being alone with him, he didn't cook anything. Mum had pre-cooked all of the meals for the whole weekend for the both of us, and so all I had to do was to heat them up for the old boy, at meal times for him, and for me also, of course.

Even that seemed to be far too much for me to have to do though.Why should I have to do this for this bully and tyrant, whose favourite nickname for me was, "Hitler?".After all, he always described me as,"having a mind of a jelly, without any perception like an ant," too put it politely.

He had other nick names for me too, of course, and perhaps his favourite one was, "the toothless terror."This was because of the fact that I had lost some of my front teeth early on in my life.I also wonder how.

Anyway, on this sunny Sunday morning, the old man had gone off to church, as these goody too shoes type of people like to do. After all, he was a, "Christian," wasn't he?Never mattered that he punched his kids, twisted his wife's arm up her back, dislocating her shoulders many times.

He was a, "Christian."

He was the boss, the head of the house, God's representative here, doing God's work for him.
It was his job to belt the devil out of us all, his wife included.That Sunday morning, I had decided that enough was enough. I didn't want to stay in that horrible house for even one minute longer.

For some reason, I told him upfront that i wanted to leave.He looked at me, and he saw that I had been serious. He could perhaps see the frightening spectre of fear that was still in my eyes, or maybe it was from the tears. He had never noticed my tears before though, so I am still unsure as to what exactly it was that stopped him from thrushing me on that particular day.He never did belt me for this utterance, and for the first time in my life, he gave me a hug. Mind you though, he has never hugged me again since that day, and I am approaching sixty now. I guess once was enough. His true character, more or less, returned into hiding again after that, as did mine.

But I loved him all the same.

My Pursuit

At times the world seems a cruel place,
with only heartache so it seems.
And the only tenderness left,
comes softly in the world of dreams:

I dream of softer lights,
laughing, carefree nights,
and a world free of strive.

I dream of smiling faces,
far off distant places,
and simple quiet graces.

I dream of peaceful songs,
music that lasts for long,
where nothing is ever wrong.

I dream of better days,
and small children at play,
where everyone has a say.

I dream of distant shores,
wish for less and not more,
and think of those before.

I dream of shades and color,
and wonder what's it's for,
and wish there were no scorn.

I dream of a different time,
 savor it like fine wine,
and wish that  it was mine.

I dream of gentle peace,
want for a greater lease,
where all men stand as free.

I dream of a more quiet place,
a softer day, a slower pace,
and yearn to find the way.