Khudaaya

Raat ke sukoon bhare sannaato me,
Theher jaate hai kadam mere,
Aur aankhein aasmaan ko taraashti hai,
Khojti hu ek sitara khud ke jaisa,
Unn arbo ki bheed me bhi,
Jo ho mujhsa akela.
Dil ki talaash aakhir puri hui,
Jab ek ki roshni nazar se milte hi,
Meri rooh ko chhoo gayi.
Fir chand lamhein beetein,
Hum dono ke darmiyaan,
Ankahi-ansuni baaton ki guftagu jab hone lagi,
Baaki sab taare bhi hogaye hairaan.
Pucha mene fir uss anmol sitaare se –
Inn arbo ki bheed me – kaise tu apni pehchaan banata hai?
Ya kabhi kabhi ghabrakar,
Khud ki chamak ko hi bhul jaata hai?
Taara fir has kar bola –
Bheedh hai, tabhi toh apni hasti dikhata hu,
Apni roshni, auron ki tarah,
Main khud hi banata hu.
Tarashaa mene khud ko jab,
Akelepann ki gehraaiyon me,
Mili mujhe hausle se jagmagaane ki qaabiliyat,
Magar mila na mujhe koi aisa,
Jo ho saka mujhse wabasta,
Bhula nahi main fir bhi apni roshni ko,
Jagmata raha, taaki mil sake mujhe koi,
Khud ke hi jaisa.
Hulchul kuch kardi iss taare ne mujh me,
Hogaya behad anmol yunn hi bas fir wo mere,
Samet liya usne apni timtimati roshni me,
Mera andar ka bhi chupa andhera.
Uska milna,
Jaise rooh se rooh ka milan tha.
Magar mera taara jo tha,
wo toh arbo sadi pehle hi,
Hogaya sifar tha.
Pyaar ki lau bann ke fir raha,
Wo mere mann ki dunia main,
Mil kar bhi nah mila,
Isme koi ruswaayi na thi,
Mila jab wo mujhe,
Mili mujhe khudaaya tha.

WE END UP UNDERNEATH SOME SHEET

We all have been granted a limited time… eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up.

Long ago, a friend shared a post on Facebook in remembrance of his friend who battled cancer and was laid to rest on January 23, 2010. It was so hauntingly beautiful that it left me aching for a while. I somehow wanted to share her tale of courage. Many of the beautiful stories go viral but there are certain battles which are only recorded in the books of the ONE who dwells in heaven.

She wrote : “update on my health: I’m pretty sure I’m on the last stages where all I wanna do is sleep. But you guys make this so peaceful and a beautiful exit for me. I’m completely ready whenever it’s meant to happen, Gabby thank you for that poem, it made me cry likr a little girl, I’m using that at my funeral I hope you don’t mind, you’re such a beautiful writer and a beautiful person I love you too”
– Karina Araujo

It was hauntingly beautiful for the way how she could see it coming and still make peace with it. Embracing the days left, still smiling and running into the arms of death. What is it that they see, that we don’t ? Would we ever see how big their brave is?

Now, I quote the words my friend wrote :

“Happy Birthday, Karina!
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A sweet friend passed away about 5 years ago. She fought the good fight against a strong enemy, cancer.
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I monitored her last few months of LIVING and how she traveled aimlessly (but with aim), visiting places that she would otherwise likely not have gone, made new friends, tried new things and most important of all, just lived a completely incredible 70+ years of life all within the last year of her corporeal life.
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I do not doubt that it was a scary, soul trembling endeavor. There is something to be said about facing an inevitable exit at the crossroad where despair, anxiety and fear of death meet calmness, acceptance and reverence of the design, that makes it a little easier to swallow but then again…..
.
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Karina took an absolutely beautiful journey. I look at life and wonder how many of my friends are truly seizing the day and living their life. While not necessarily a believer in “your” god, I’m a firm believer in destiny. I think life is more of a “by design than an ill-planned, haphazard or accidental” occurrence wrapped in chance.
.
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If by design, its easier to accept the journey. Ummm maybe in some way, that’s my religious protective blanket!
.
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Will you wait until such an enemy has you in its target before you start living or do you wake up everyday and say,
“if this here is my last day, gooooddddamn it, immma immma fuck it! I’m going to rock out, even if my _____ is(can) not(be) out.”

… In the end, we all end up underneath some sheet. We become a worm feast. We go back as dust in the wind. Nothing of us remains. All that we can do is to live this one and only endless, tragic yet beautiful life, in such a way that, when we exit the physical altar of life and travel to a place to whose bourn from where we cannot return, we would have left behind a fragment of our soul behind, in every life we would have touched. 

 

Facebook is a beautiful community that connects so many people, and their lives are intertwined and some lessons remain etched in our memories.

I hope stories of everyday heroes stay with us all and keep us strong.