Yet Again Another Day

Here comes another day to look to. The days pass by and make me do the same old methods of living. Now I have learnt to go out and make a living. I can buy my own newspaper and milk while returning from the morning walk, yes I walk now just as him. Just the way he used to maintain a routine and said me to do so as him. He used to say I’m very cooperative and understanding, and so are my daughters. They have also learnt to do deal with the cruel world without his presence. He had made sure that we all are independent. The simple and light places where my heart rests and the only place where I feel the belongingness is near our home ‘The Green Park’ where we used to sit and see our daughters grow Up. Look how refined they came out! After him, they are taking care of me and more than he ever did.

Being an old person I do not know much about today's tactics to move on but nature is always the same . Its like a woman ,always giving. “A thing of beauty is a joy forever”, I was experiencing these words of John Keats and the description of nature from Ruskin bond. I could see the big trees dancing. They warned me for the later day. The young light ones having fragile leaves are open to every experience. Some leaves gaily flutter, the chatters. Some show desperation, dancing to take them with the wind. The old wise ones with their heaviness inward and outward have stained dark leaves. They are rude, known to the pretence; they keep their persistency of ignorance, being in a state of stillness. The empty evenings are a part of day. It is when dusk dominates the city lights; we come to know how small we are to give out lights which diminish in a certain range. Look at the sky above, how giving is easy for it! This type of openness to natures’ pleasant coma has made my living a bit bearable.

Canvas of infinite pale grey,
Finding peace which is not stray.
Choice of land is what stayed,
flying high remained weighed.

Lying on the grass, the judgment is revealed,
Opened my eyes which were sealed.
Of the sky, ransacking into the unfolded secrets,
Many untold stories with uncanny regrets.

Everyone in the race is a mere actor,
Not yet found one as a detractor.
Living in a system stuck and wearing,
but folks! Behind the clouds there is always a sun shining.

I remember when we said each other that we cannot live without each other. Well, now that he is not here anymore how I’m supposed to live? I can see him linger around the house; reading, repairing and being playful, all the memories still fresh even after thirteen years of separation. I thought those juvenile emotions are true until he left. I have understood the fact that death is the part of life.Life is all about how one lived and I’m still living. I lived yesterday, day before yesterday and now yet again another day.