Day 976

I grieve.

I grieve for his death.
For his guilt, his shame.
His self blame.
His sadness. His silence.
Every moment of distance.
Him, all alone. Forlorn.
His thoughts, torn.
His brokenness. Hopelessness.
His lightless eyes. His vanished smiles.
His hollow form. His shadow gone.
His quite desperation. Separation.
His terror. His fright.
Night after night.
Misunderstood, behind a hood.

I grieve.
For this black and white Now.
For this constant ‘How?’
That wretched day I went to work.
Every time I put me first.
Words unsaid. Eyes unmet.
Holidays unmade.
Jokes and Stories unshared . Games unplayed.
Songs unhummed. Beats undrummed.
Meals uncooked. Dreams unhooked.
Films unseen. Jeans uncleaned.
Hugs unheld. Incense unsmelt.
Cocktails unmixed. Good-nights unkissed.

I grieve and I am grateful
For all that was given
and all that was taken away
And all the nitty-gritty.
For it pushes me closer to Divinity.

Day 969

Posted by kidsaregifts20

Caffeine are Us

At the Delhi International Airport, leaving home, I usually am sad to be leaving my folks. But on this occasion I felt like an uplifted version of myself. Positively happy. Buzzing. Most uncharacteristic. Something was not right, if you know what I mean. I thought back to what had gone on in the few preceding hours. Well, the only new thing was that just before leaving home, I had a glass of ice-coffee that my Mum had made for us. It was most welcome on a warm day like that. That was the first time I had coffee in more than 10 years.

Here was my answer. Saagar used to love Mocha Frappucino. I thought it was just the sugar hit he liked but now I know it is a combination of the coffee, the coolness and the calories. For some, the cream on top. I had just found a ‘back-up’ plan for my blues. It was a tried and tested remedy.

Since last weekend the temperatures have completely justified a generous dose of ice-coffee and we’ve indulged every day.

This is how we make 2 glasses :

Medium strength coffee: 200 mls
(While hot, dissolve 2 heaped teaspoons of dark muscavado sugar in it and allow to cool to room temperature)
Cold Milk: 1 glass
Ice cubes: 14-16

Blend the coffee and sugar mix in a blender.
Add the milk. Blend again
Add about 12 ice cubes. Reblend.
Pour into 2 tall glasses and add the other 1-2 ice cubes in each glass.
For extra luxury, add cream or vanilla/chocolate ice-cream to the mix.
If you drink properly, you can even get yourself a nice moustache. I am hooked. Can hardly wait till tomorrow.

(I am not going to be a numpty and post a picture of ice-coffee. I think everyone knows what it looks like.)

Day 964

Posted by kidsaregifts20

Grenfell fallen

127 flats
24 storeys
20 residential levels
400-600 residents
4 mixed levels of community areas and residential flats
2016 refurbishment completed

Fire Sign

The tower was built in 1974. It was recently made to look pretty for £8.6 million pounds. Lower 4 floors were remodelled, creating nine additional homes, better heating and communal facilities.

1 am, Wednesday, 15^th June : A fire started at the 4^th floor and rapidly engulfed the entire tower. Source unknown.
No alarms. No sprinklers. No warning.
40 fire engines and 200 fire fighters.
More than 24 hours to bring the blaze under control.
17 reported dead so far. Count rising. Many hospitalised. Many missing.

Heart-rending stories of people trying to save their kids and themselves in any way possible. Firemen and women traumatised by what they saw. Families distraught. Neighbourhood shattered. London shaken.
Previous warnings by residents ignored. False assurances given.
All to do with money. Cheap material used for encasing the building. Each unit not adequately isolated.
Recommendations made by inquiries into similar previous fires not implemented. All to do with money.

Our country cannot provide its citizens with proper medical care, education or housing. First world country?
This is what it must be like in countries like Syria, Yemen and Lebanon where every day, unmanned drones drop ruinous bombs on innocent unsuspecting civilians. We are all the same people.

We don’t need aliens. Thank you. We are clever enough to self-destruct.

Day 957

Posted by kidsaregifts20

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At 26, she finally sought help. She is bright, has received fabulous education, is brought up in a stable, happy household and has travelled extensively. After graduation she got a great job in the city of London but came to realise it was not right for her.

After a tempestuous patch, she has landed on her feet. Great wisdom has come to her in abundance. She has discovered that her family is her strength. She can trust them. Her mother walks right beside her, growing with her, every step of the way. She now appreciates her dog more than ever before. A drive to the coast and a stroll by the sea with a loved one is not something she takes for granted anymore. Yoga is now a part of her daily routine. Gardening brings her peace. She spends her time colouring picture books and drawing sketches.

Her creativity is finding expression. Zaynah lives with Borderline Personality Disorder and writes a blog – Not a simple mind. Her life is not easy but it is a hundred percent authentic. She shares it generously. She is determined to help others. While Facebook constantly incites her to compare her life with that of others, she knows better. She can tell real from fake. She understands she is in recovery. It’s a zig-zag road but it’s good. Yes. All this learning at 26!

“Recovery isn’t about getting back to how you were before, it’s about building something new.” – Anonymous.

In the recording below, Zaynah talks to me about her diagnosis, her recovery and the changes in her life:

Day 950

Posted by kidsaregifts20

Let me not defer…

Rush hour in London is a perfect example of organised chaos. Buses, cycles, pedestrians, taxis and cars miss each other by millimetres and head purposefully towards their respective destinations. The sun shone generously this morning, throwing light on every minute detail.

He sat on the edge of a low shop window on York Road. I saw him on my way from the bus-stop to the hospital. He sat there holding his head in both his hands – the classic pose. He must have been in his mid-twenties. There was darkness in his eyes, a small blue travel bag by his right foot. Not sure if he spoke English. He didn’t look drunk. I walked past him. I wanted to stop and talk to him but I knew this could take time and I would get late for work. I kept walking. Hundred yards ahead, I turned around and looked. He was still there. Still in the same position. Something needed attention. I thought I would quickly go to work, see if I could be spared and come back asap.
I did exactly that. I came back after 40 minutes but he was gone.

What could I have done? There are so many people, each one with their own problems and stories. What difference can I make?

I can ask – Are you ok? Can I help you?
I can offer my phone if they want to make a call.
I can have a phone number handy – 0808 800 4444 (Shelter)
I can have the belief that there is something I can do.

Postponing a positive action is a sure way of missing the entire fleet.
I was unaware that every day 150 families in Britain become homeless.