CHANTINGS OF THE HEART

' The spring may be vibrant and endearing, autumn is all about fading out, solitude and loneliness.' - Sara  Psychology as a whole deals with the study of the human mind and behaviour and it's several aspects. Focus these days is more on the study of the young in the form of child or adolescence psychology and dealing with the varying cause- effects. Ignored to a larger extent are the old and the mental aspects associated with ageing.  The question that often encompasses my mind is, 'Are we caring for the old?' Are we nurturing them tenderly?' Mostly the answer would be a big 'NO'. A big shoutout to those career oriented, selfish individuals who have left their parents to fend off for themselves. It's time to look back and say, ' I Do!' Well, I am forced to write this based on several observations over the past few months. Snippet 1- The old lady (wrinkled, stooping, probably in her 70's) was at a shopping complex, struggling to buy the g

Each day I look for you.. I wonder where you have been - My eyes search for you frantically From dawn to dusk  And then again.... From dusk to dawn.  The never ending cycle continues... They say you would come soon I wait at the threshold of my doorstep Desperate.... My eyes brimming with Hope! My skin waiting for your delicate touch.. The caress and the comfort of your company  I love more than anything...  I wait It's been several weeks now But.... I search for you, with bated breath Time and again  You have sent a glimmer of Hope  But.... You evaded me.. Again and again!! Dear Rain.... Please visit me I wait for you with Bated breath and HOPE! *(It's been several week now that people are suffering due to extreme hot weather conditions and no rainfall)

Who's mother she is I don't know! Daily I see her.... Sometimes roaming aimlessly Sometimes bathing her strained back in the Sun! At times she reclines Herself on boundary walls of neighbours.... Unaware of the world passing by, she is in her own self. Lost in her deep thoughts  Sad or happy I don't know I see her sometimes staring at my face Hopefully.... At other times sitting on someone's gateway... Is it her gateway in her own way? The doorway to her happiness or misery I am still unaware !  I look at her daily in my sojourn  And wonder why is she so devoid of company? No friends, no neighbours to keep her company and listen to her cacophony... I wonder, have we become too materialistic and mechanical? Are we ignoring the old ? Can we spare some time and give them company? Let them be happy in the last few years!! Can we spare some time for the elderly? Can the blank eyes be replaced with happiness and hope?  She may be somebody's Mother... But let's be her

"Mom"," Mom Save us! " "It's burning, Mom, please save us." ' Aita', 'Aita' (bosua amak) Help us, Save us!! Arunima went hysterical once again!! She was uncontrollable, she was screaming and crying. It's been over three months now. Avinash held her up and started caressing and cajoling her not to cry. Avinash's heart was breaking too but he decided he would remain strong, he wouldn't be shattered. He needs to remain strong for his lady love, Arumina and his mother.  Arunima was sobbing. Over the past few weeks she had been mostly in a state of daze and bewilderment. She was under heavy doses of medication, being injected with anti- depressants and in taking sleeping tablets. Slowly, Avinash let his wife Arunima go off to sleep, he knew sleep evaded her. He switched off the light and looked around the house.  Avinash sat on the recliner, in order to read the newspaper. As he turned the page, a particular news caught his atte

Kadambari held the small box of sindoor on her hands. She loved the colour. Crimson red!! Yes, that was what she loved seeing on people's forehead. It was unlike the dark brownish colour found in her part of the country.  Kadambari stood looking at the small round red box, her eyes became moist. She remembered the day when the mother of a student gifted her a packet after she praised the colour of the ' Sindoor '. That evening she applied the vermilion after freshening up, and she looked bright and different. The red colour on the parting of her hair appeared immensely beautifully against the white Jasmine flowers, which she often ties to her long hair. Her husband Srijith praised her. She smiled remembering how crazy he was. Amma, 'Niru', Amma, 'Niru'. Her two year son Bivash who was playing nearby brought her back to her senses. She opened the water bottle and let the child have water. As she was sitting in the mat below, everything appeared before her ey

Tears flowed down her cheeks Like a stream of salty water From eyes which were blue with Hope Of a reconciliation- a new beginning Eyes which weaved dreams of happiness Eyes which hoped of a life like a queen A queen in his heart He did not understand her, her pain, her agony He crushed her beyond his feet Her dreams crushed therewith The dream of a happy life  

Yet again! Humanity was shocked, tattered and shattered. Where am I living? In a state where people can't differentiate between the right and wrong!!