I am a dreamer
I dream that there will be happiness
I dream there will be peace and free passage some day
I dream I will make it to the other side someday and hold her hand
I dream I will hear her sing lying next to her side
I would trade my life for that one moment of bliss
Thursday, May 29, 2008
I am a dreamer
Friday, May 23, 2008
The loneliness surrounding me is immense. There are people around me but somehow, they do not seem to exist. The weekdays keep me busy, it’s the weekends that kill me. I have died different deaths – solitary & meaningless. The mistakes I made in my life continue to haunt me – I have to learn to live with them.
He looks at me with those beautiful but sad eyes. He deserves better, I tell myself. His small expectant fingers find their way into my hand. He needs me, wants to be by my side. I perform my duties and look after him well, but he needs more than that. Maybe he is just as lonely as me.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
When she left, I was devastated. Life had suddenly come to a standstill. I knew it was coming, but there was not much I did about it. Then I said something that triggered the inevitable. She said she had done everything she could to please me, and I told her she had done nothing. I heard something break that very moment. She left the same day. I regretted what I had said. I tried to reach out to her so many times, but she had locked herself in a cocoon. She was unreachable.
I saw him off at the station just like I had done so many times in the past. It was another one of his business trips and he had promised to be back home by the weekend. He never came back. The days that followed were desperate days – calls to all his business associates to try to locate him. No one had seen him. A trip to the city he had said he was going to, offered no clues. Contacts were used to search each and every hospital in town. No results. As news spread, harassment increased from people he owed money to. I broke down when I gave his photograph to the Missing People section of the TV station. The bus ride back home was equally painful. Tears refused to stop as memories of my childhood flashed in my head. He had been a good father to me.