Death, the dead and our awkward silences.

“I think we forget things if we have no one to tell them to.”

I have seen Lunchbox but I had totally forgotten this piece of gem in it. I came across this recently on twitter again and it stuck me.

It’s so true! It is also one of the biggest fears that I have – that I will forget things just because I don’t talk to anyone about them.

Death and the dead.

My mother passed away 4 years ago. But I never talk about it to anyone. I don’t actually know why but I don’t like talking to people about it. We, as a society, have such a bad and depressing attitude to death that it just feels like we are doing something wrong. Whenever we hear someone lost someone close to them, our first reaction is ‘Oh, I’m sorry’ and there is no further reaction post that. We don’t like to talk about death. We don’t like to talk about the dead. No one does. We just avoid the topic. If someone among my friends ever by mistake bring up my mother or death in any conversation, they suddenly say sorry and change the conversation. I don’t understand it and still, I am a part of this. I don’t like to talk about my mother. I don’t tell about it to anyone. I haven’t told my closest friends about it. I just don’t like the sympathy and awkwardness that comes with it. I think we have a very poor and unclear way of dealing with death. We sympathise for a second and then we are afraid to ever bring it up. Why is that? Is it because the person will start crying? Or is it because you don’t want to remind them of the loss? Why do we avoid talking about the dead? What is the worst that could happen?

Some people do it right, though. I remember when I told my girlfriend about it. We were on our first date and I had no intention of bringing it up. I didn’t want to seem like I was trying to gain sympathy by saying that. (See, this is what I think is wrong with us. Why would it make me feel like ‘sympathy beggar’?) But we somehow landed on the topic. And I didn’t want to lie to her. I really liked her and I didn’t want to screw it up by being dishonest. Plus, I had a feeling she would take it right. So I told her. I told her how much I loved my mother and how much it hurt to have lost her. I told her how pathetically lost I have been since her; how she was everything to me and how loss of the most important person affects you. I remember when I started saying that to her, she held my hand throughout. When I was done telling her everything, I had tears in my eyes and I remember she hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. I am not saying every girl should kiss me when I tell them I have lost my mother but am I wrong to say we seriously lack compassion? What she did felt good. To tell someone your worst loss and have them understand and respond in an appropriate way, feels good.

This has been one of the worst thing to happen to me. I don’t know if anything will top this. Death and loss is difficult to deal with. And with the mentality that we have in our society, it just gets tougher and tougher. I don’t know why I hide it from everyone but I would like to stop doing that. Only if people stopped looking at me with sympathy and had a little more compassion, it would be easier. I have never blogged about this either. I have never posted about this on facebook or twitter. I don’t like to publicise that I am an orphan (with a father). I don’t like to be reminded of that. But I have this constant fear that I will forget details about her as I don’t talk to anyone about her. I don’t want to do that.

So here I am, talking about my mother who I lost a little over 4 years ago. I loved her. She taught me everything – from being patient, understanding, compassionate, loving to being smart, passionate and human. ‘Never shout at your brother and sister when they do something wrong,’ she used to tell me. ‘The whole world will criticize and blame them when they make a mistake. This is the time when they need you the most.’ I have tried to live up to it. ‘Always put family first. They matter the most no matter what they are and how they behave, family is all we have got.’ I remember this and try to live by it in life’s most mundane activities like making sure that my uncle(who is divorced and a loner) is not being left alone when we go to attend weddings because she used to make sure of that. I try to do things that she did and live by her principles and lessons.

I see my sister taking care of the family and I think of my mother. I think of how proud she would be of her. The way my sister takes care of everyone, talks to everyone in the family, makes them understand each others point, tries to sort out the fights that we all keep having – I think of how my mother should have been alive to see her grow into a woman. My mother worried so much about her, I wish she could see how much of her is left behind in my sister.

I see my little brother taking care of my granny and I think of my mother. I think of how happy she would have been to see him be so responsible and grown up even though he is just 15. I think of how much she is missing. I see my brother respecting other girls in his class; I see him do good in school; when his school teachers tell me he can do better in study, it doesn’t bother me but I am the proudest person when they tell me he is the most sincere, respectful and decent student in the class. I take pride in the fact that my mother’s values are not lost. She is the one who inculcated all the habits in him. She is the one who taught him compassion, love, empathy, respect and standing up for those who can’t do it for themselves. And she would have been so proud to see him grow into those and much more.

I miss how my mother will never be able to see how she moulded our lives. I sometimes feel sorry that she will never know how much we loved her. I miss that I will never be able to tell her that again. I miss that I will never be able to hug her and feel safe and comfort again. I miss that no one will ever believe in me and understand and love me the way she did.

People die, alright. But we don’t have to forget them. We don’t have to not talk about them. We don’t have to be afraid to shed a few tears in their memory. I wish we were not so awkward about death and the dead. I am now ashamed that I have never spoken about her to many people. And I fear I will forget her. I don’t want to forget her. I want to remember all I can about her. And the best way to remember is to keep talking, right?

I love my mother. And I miss her.


Hobbyist of the week: Harsha Bathija

Dear Miss Harsha Bathija got featured. Big Congratulations to her 🙂

Power On Possibilities

Buxsa has always encouraged hobbyists in following their hearts and passions. We are here with a photography enthusiast – Ms. Harsha Bathija from Mumbai, listening to her talk about her fiery love for photography and what keeps her ticking. Harsha works in a leading social media agency by the day and dons the cape of a super photographer by, well, later in the day. All of 24, this petite lady is dynamite and takes her passion very seriously. We had a chat with her. Her take on her hobby is very interesting. Here’s Harsha’s story.

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कोई और दे न दे

अपने दर्द के दलदल में
हम खुद ही अक्सर धसते जाते है |
खुद मुसीबत खड़ी करते है
और खुद ही उसमे फसते जाते है |

दर्द / दुःख
बाँटने से कभी मिटता नहीं |
पर किसी का प्यार साथ हो
तो ये दूर दूर तक दीखता नहीं |

तन्हा कौन नही है इस दुनिया में?
पर अकेला रहना ज़रूरी तो नही |
मुश्किलें है तो क्या हुआ ?
सब लड़ाइयाँ अकेले लड़ी जाए, ऐसी कोई मजबूरी तो नही |


एक बात बताये?

तुम्हे युँ दर्द में देख के
अच्छा नही लग रहा |
कुछ कर भी नही पा रहे
कुछ समझ भी नही रहा |

तुम कुछ कहो
तो हमे भी समझ आये,
क्या बीत रही है तुमपे
हम भी समझ पाये |

ज़ोर नही डालेंगे तुमपे
पर तुम्हे तन्हा छोड़ना नही चाहते
तुम्हे इस हालत में देख के
हम भी बस आधे हो जाते |



जो भी हो, जैसा भी हो
एक बात तुम्हे बता दे,
हम हमेशा देंगे तुम्हारा साथ
कोई और दे न दे |

Hey There Harsha Bathija

This poem is dedicated to Harsha Bathija.
We had a fight last night and both of us said things we didn’t mean to and both of us got hurt. But we talked it out and sorted everything.

After being the Chandler in the relationship (always being immature and stupid), last night I was right for the first time(and probably the last after this blog 😛 ) and she ended up feeling silly and stupid and bad for everything. (Don’t worry, we are back to me being stupid and she being awesome)

This poem is based on one of her favorite song (Hey There Delilah) and for best effects, I recommend you hear the song while reading this :).
To me, she is Delilah and I would do everything in my power to make her happy.

Hey Harsha, this one’s for you. 🙂



Hey there Harsha,
What’s it like in Borivali
I am tens of miles away
But girl don’t you at all feel silly
Oh don’t you do

Nothing can bother me as much as not talking to you
I swear it’s true


Hey there Harsha,
Don’t you worry about the fuck ups
I am right here no matter what happens
Give this song another listen

Close your eyes
These words are my feelings
They are my disguise
I am by your side

Oh it’s the love you have for me
Oh it’s the love you have for me
Oh it’s the love you have for me
Oh it’s the love you have for me


Hey there Harsha,
I know things are getting hard
But just believe me girl
Someday I’ll take you to the stars
We’ll have it good

We’ll have the life I promised you we would
My promise is good


Hey there Harsha,
I’ve got so many things to say
If every emotion you evoke in me
Could take my breath away

I’d have stopped breathing at all
Even more in love with you I’d fall
We’d have it all

Oh it’s the things you care to do for me
Oh it’s the things you care to do for me
Oh it’s the things you care to do for me
Oh it’s the things you care to do for me


This distance seems pretty far
But they’ve got phones and chats and Skype and call
I’d write to you if I had no other way

Our friends would all make fun of us
But we’ll just laugh along because
We know that none of them have had it this way

Harsha, I can promise you
That by the time the night gets through
This fight won’t bother you again
And it will go back to being the same


Hey there Harsha,
You be good and don’t you feel uneasy
Few more days and we’ll be done with this
And all of this will be a mystery

I love you
You know I most certainly do
You can ask your heart if you want to

Hey there Harsha,
Here’s to you
This ones for you

Just remember I love you
Always have and will always do.

I love you. You don’t.

Sometimes things look complicated
But they aren’t
You are just thinking too much.

There is no solving the problem
Cause there isn’t one
You are just making up stuff.

Sometimes you just have to let it go
Even if that seems like the toughest thing to do

Being negative won’t help anyone
And hating yourself isn’t any fun.

This is over
And that is the truth
Things never stay
The way they should

So let’s not complicate things
And be stuck in hope;

The truth of matter is simple
I love you
You don’t.

Bad name

Empty corridors
Forever waiting;

Abandoned corners
Always suffocating;

Unknown shadows
Looking for a name;

Forbidden narrows
And the constant blame.


A life full of suffering
And intense pain;

A past filled with longing
For a moment’s vane;

Immense hatred
Linked to it’s name;

And the utter loneliness
That comes with fame.



But perceptions and prejudices
Slowly change;

With a tinge of hope
And factors strange.



To some, empty corridors
Provide calm and peace

Abandoned corner is
Where lovers kiss.

Hidden in unknown shadows
An extrovert cries;

And in the forbidden narrows
The adventurer thrives.



So don’t stress too much
Over the connotations

Take it on the chin
And create your own implications.


Suffering and pain
Are Useful resources.

Greater the longing
Stronger the forces.

Choosing a past
Is not in our hands.

But what you decide to do with it
Decides where you stand.
So here is the crux:

Don’t let your past define you
So what if you’ve got a bad name?
You are more than what people call you
You are not something, a name can tame.

Poor Love

Love isn’t boastful
It doesn’t demand
A show;
Love believes in itself
And hopes that in this dark world,
It will glow.

Sacrifice in love often goes unnoticed
But that is the reason
You should never keep score
‘Cause love is no science,
It is a matter of heart; a necessity of life
And so much more…

love is hope

Suffering is also a part of the process
‘Cause what is love,
If it can’t endure
You can’t really blame it on anyone
‘Cause suffering is innocent
And love has no cure.

Pain is another by-product of our existence
But love is not responsible here,
It didn’t cheat or lie or trick you
But it is no innocent bystander either

It’s simple logic and plain common sense:
You bleed cause you cut
It hurts cause you care,
Poor love gets blamed
‘Cause it just exaggerates what is already there.

ये प्यार ही होगा…

ये प्यार ही होगा
वरना, किसी का इतना इंतज़ार
हम नही करते

ये इश्क़ ही होगा
वरना ऐसी बेवकूफों वाली हरकत
हम नही पटकते |

love in madly

वो तो तुम्हे देख के
हम होश खो बैठते है
और तुम्हारी मुस्कराहट को देख के
दीवाने हो उठते है |

वैसे समझ तो हम में
ज़माने भर की है
और अकड़ तो हम में
ज़रूरत से ज़्यादा भरी है

पर तुम्हे देख के
सारी अकड़ भूल जाती है
और तुमपे रौब जमाने के चक्कर में
सारी समझ निकल आती है |

ये प्यार ही होगा
वरना तुम हमारे दिलो दिम्माग पे
यु छाए ना होते

ये इश्क़ ही होगा
वरना तुम्हारे नाम के इस दिल में
अफ़साने ना होते

ये प्यार ही होगा
या फिर शायद हम पागल हो रहे है |
पर सुना है,
पागल होने को ही लोग आजकल
प्यार कह रहे है |

The Friendship Should Last

Is it too naive to expect
That relationships will last?
That people will stay
And not become past.
Is it too stupid to assume
That friends will always matter?
That whatever happens
The friendship will keep getting better.
Every relationship grows
Into a beautiful thing;
Until it gets ruined by expectations
And the search for meaning.
Every friendship vows
To last a lifetime
Until life gets in the way
And spoils all rhythm and rhyme.
The start of every relationship
Makes you feel immensely special
The bond is just growing strong
And everything just falls into a pattern.
But as the good times pass
I often fear, the worst might happen
That people will leave
And I will be left alone; forgotten.
Hence all I ask is for us
To stay in touch.
The friendship should last
I don’t ask for much.

Do we ever stop loving?

Beautiful read!

All Things Human

I often find myself going back in time, revisiting those memories and people associated with it, often finding different insight into what was.

But that’s the thing about memories isn’t it? You can twist and wind it as per your mood and no one can ever question it. In the recesses of your mind, the memory becomes your story. You can make it anything you want it to be.

There are a few people who touch your lives. They just get you. It’s like they were made to fit a part of you that was incomplete until they came. And then for a while they complete that part, playing that important role they were always meant to play, as if their part in your story was already planned, that they were just waiting for the right moment to enter your life and turn it around.

But it might so happen…

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