Little Miracles.

 Little wonders with the brightest smiles,

Simple mind with the biggest heart,
With stars in their curious eyes,
Kids are perhaps God's greatest art.

Counting every day as a precious surprise,
With dreams of flying high in the skies,
With smiles that bring hope amidst despair
Children have only pure love to share.

To watch their cries turn to hesitant smiles
To see them emerge from pain and sickness
To better days where they overpower their illness,
Is perhaps the greatest miracle to witness. 

In and Out.

 The little girl just did as she was told,

But now her life was fading away and her hands were cold.

Her mother watched from above as the little one lay paralyzed

Even as the poison seeped through her veins undisguised. 

A life ebbing away too soon,

A father too deep in pain to see her as a precious boon,

Alcohol blinded his vision through day and night

Until he could no longer tell wrong from right. 

He fed the hungry mouth the deathly concoction,

Even as she looked at him with love and devotion,

Somewhere they would meet again he decided,

No reason or logic could explain how he was so misguided. 

In hordes they came after the tragedy,

Wailing in despair as she lay delirous,

Where were they when the chips where down?

Where were they when they knew he had a breakdown? 

Her father lost to the world,

Her mother, her guardian angel watching from above,

She lay in limbo between life and death

A pure, innocent soul battled for every breath.

A small girl was brought to the casualty in critical state. Her mother had passed away about 10 months ago. The father had given a poisonous pesticide to the child and had succumbed to the same.

Jayashree Rao 

Shades of Green and Blue.

 

Drive To Survive.

 You arrived a little too soon,

Perhaps weighing a tad too less
But you've been a fighter since your first breath,
Crossing every hurdle and defying death.

Little one, you've seen too much too soon,
But your existence has been a miraculous boon,
It'll only make you stronger and braver
Perhaps the road ahead is smoother and in your favor.

Everyday we see things beyond our grasp,
Sometimes Fate decides to take people in its mortal clasp,
Seeing these little miracles battle against sepsis shock and more,
Makes one take heart and hope there are better days in store.

Baby of Ranjitha, day 22 of life, Preterm with Respiratory Distress Syndrome, battled Septicaemia and Septic shock, Apnoea of Prematurity, NNH and much more..

Each day is a fight for survival and this champ is trying to do it against all odds.

To the spirit of life!

Colours on my palette.

Resilience.

Against the odds she held on,
After a week in limbo, with much to cope,
Another week, through multiple tubes and wires she pulled through,
And she emerged again, at the break of dawn,
Giving us all a glimmer of hope.

If miracles exist, she was one,
Her courage was second to none,
Through all the pain, she kept up her valiant fight.
Shrunken and pale,  yet she was a heartwarming sight.

Days and nights keep passing by,
There are patients who come and go,
There are some who make it to the sunny side,
There are some who never regain their stride,
But there are some who push through every high and low,
Those who were meant to soar and fly.

Huda Fathima was in the ICU and on mechanical ventilator for two weeks after which she recovered. One of the rare instances of such a prolonged ICU stay and making it out successfully. Happy to have been part of the team involved in her recovery. 

Incoherence

 

They say good memory is a boon
But not when you've lost a loved one too soon.
Does it really every get any better?
When there are stories for every photo, video or letter.

There are only memories everywhere
All I know is we shall never make new memories anymore.
It's only the good old times I can rewind and replay
And wish you were here with me, watching us.

How I wish I had more time with you
I wish I could bargain like you,
But only this time with God,
Atleast to bid you a goodbye.

Sometimes I fear the bitterness growing in me
But I know you wouldn't want that
With all the love and  care you gave us
We can only hope to be loving and kind.

When Memory is Painful

 

Will I always remember,
The scent of you as we hugged?
Will I always remember,
The creases on your hands, aged with work?
Will I always remember,
The joy in your smile as you painted a masterpiece?
Will I always remember,
The way you'd dig deep into your purse and fish out anything we needed like magic?
Will I always remember,
The way you sang songs in your own inimitable melody?
Will I always remember,
The taste of your rasam, in your trademark style?
Will I always remember,
The way you loved us, pure and unconditionally?


Could I ever revisit, every memory we shared together?
Could I ever relive;
Every time I clasped your hand as we crossed the road?
Every walk we had in the neighborhood,
Every time we'd shop together for me,
Every journey we've shared together
Except this last one, you're on, by yourself. 

Untimely.

 No words can do justice to the emotions. No one can replace her existence. And no rituals can change the past.

The last 3 days have been something I never thought I would have to face in life. There was a long long way to go, so many more milestones to be reached and a million memories to be made, but for her untimely demise.

The events of the last 3 days have exposed me to situations I have never thought I (or my sister) would ever have to face in this lifetime. Or atleast, so early on in life. But Fate had ordained otherwise.

I see her in everything around me. Maybe the last meal she cooked, the last dress she got me, the last time we laughed, the last time we hugged and I never thought it would be the last one.

It's very hard to look ahead and imagine a future where she isn't a part. Everyday begins with the painful realization that I can never say 'Morning Maami' and get back a reply. No one will ever ask me if I want kaapi or bourmiie (Bournvita). No one would crack silly PJs like her that would make us both laugh. No one will ask if I've kept my water bottle as I rush to work. No one will load my lunch box with extra spoons and napkins (I would joke that she was giving me bibs). No one will probably ask me to park my Ntorq inside or offer to clean it for me since I was always in a hurry. I could go on forever. I see her in everything around me. I see her love all around me. Just not her. Nobody can love like a mother. Unconditionally.

I only pray for strength for my family and myself. And for Time to heal us.

A Tale Of Positivity

Born in times of a raging pandemic,

Amidst the distress within his mother's womb,

Emerged a little one pink and cherubic,

Yet handled through plastics and gloves.

While his mother harbored the virus within her,

The little one remained hanging in limbo,

Away from the warmth of his mother,

He found comfort in the hesitant touch of his father.

Over sleepless nights and enduring days, 

A bond forged between the father, uncle and the young son,

As nervous hands held him upright,

Indeed it was a heartwarming sight.

As the virus sweeps across the country, cases are turning positive at the drop of a hat. While the mother delivered this baby at a Covid hospital, the baby waits for its  RTPCR Report, whilst being tended to by his loving father and dedicated uncle. Amidst the uncertain times we live in, here's a glimmer of hope and happiness! 💫