I stepped into the fields of wheat under a blue sky, Ukraine
The bewitching snow covering the territory,
When dark engulfed the sun early.
Looking up to the shiny skies, only to know; it was
not the night that brought darkness rather the blackouts for protection,
Windowless, doorless underground turned homes of many.
Didn’t wake up to birds chippers,
Rather to the siren going on and off .
As I watched through the glass window of the train,
Mothers hand holding the screaming kids close to her weeping heart,
Thick clothes to the cold skin, didn’t cover the fear in her shaking lips.
Desperation in the voices of those innocent hearts “I want to go home”
I saw them alined in their own homes, where I was a mere foreigner on that capital land.
I stepped into the land of Katrlis Deda (Georgia).
Peace bridge connecting the new cites, over the Kura river;
Chronicles to gaze the whole shimmering Tbilisi,
marking the large hill of Nadzaladevi,
Hot espresso led my feet dance over the cold breeze of January.
Season of cold latte stepped in, brushing down the snow slowly.
Turned from a person never on the bed to a bug stuck to the bed,
From waking before the alarm to terrified of the daylight sneaking
through the window shades,
My skin stripping the life, felt like my body was on fire,
The desperate heart longed to be home, “I want to go home!”
Flew miles on back of the Falcon, to the stretched golden sands of Marina.
Running to the loving arms of the warm skin and to the
Tears rolling down the cheeks, mirroring a image,
I was like a moth drawn to the flame.
It seemed like a soft powder, felt like scaly hairs falling off with the touch
And left marks like a warrior’s scar.
I found myself alined in my own body.
The weeping heart and the desperate kid screamed, “I want to go home”.
I cried to be home, I dreamed about home, i felt lost looking for home!
Only to find the home within me; the feet dancing to the cold breeze was home,
The eyes waking up to the sunbeam was home,
The laughter filled the void in me, that sound was home.
Home was never the place,
home was never a season,
home was was not the ocean
Home was the inner kid, home was me, I !
———rgk
 |
| Home— rgk |
Words used to represent :
1st part: speaking about the arrival to Ukraine and leaving during the war as a refugee
Land of wheat under the blue sky = symbolising national flag of Ukraine
Dark engulf the sun = daytimes are shorter during winter season
Capital land = Kyiv
2nd part: describing the architectures of the landmarks and decoration of mental health
Katrlis Deda = mother of Georgia statue, positioned at the highest point
Peace bridge = opened during 2010 for connecting the new district with the old district of Tbilisi
Chronicles of Tbilisi = an unfinished monument, created during the Soviet period and left
unfinished after Russo-Georgian war
Nadzaladevi = a district in Tbilisi, Georgia
Bug = bed bugs; the state were one was not able to leave the bed
3rd part: returning back to India, Chennai.
Back on the Falcon = national bird of Kuwait; representing the airline one used to travel back.
Loving arms of warm skin = comfort zone found in a person; representing about the feeling of
meeting the parents
Moth = representing the reflection of one feeling like a bug turned to a moth
Drawn to a flame = a moths desperation to reach the light , one felt the need to be in a comfort
zone
Soft powder and scaly hair = representing the dust on the hand while catching the moths wing, (it is not the dust but their scales that helps them in thermo regulation like humans skin)
Falling of with touch = representing one’s mental health fading and the disorder
Warrior scar = the pigmentations left from the wounds and blister from the disorder
Desperate kid = wounded inner child
Comments
Xoxo-thrish
So these posts are a good catharsis. Excellently done, initially with an image of helping others. Then you talk about your suffering. That is what catharsis is. But real catharsis is when you confront your own demons rather than demonize someone else for your disease. Disease is always a manifestation of your thoughts. Aided by evolution and genetics. Guess I don't make sense as this is not the forum for it
However.
Catharsis heals. It's always good to write or talk. Not with fear of judgement or expectation of applause. It is the deepest form of healing. Are we willing to go there?
Are we willing to see our dreams shattered and rebuilt through a force we never reckoned existed?
Are we willing to see that we heal when someone takes unbiased control? With one aim only—to do the job professionally and support emotionally at the same time? When you draw a timeline, you realise that both do not go together.
As a doctor, I can tell you that doing a good job is important. Patients will never recognise empathy and moral support when that is done. Why? Because they are caught up in their visions of help and the trauma of what the world has done to them. I find this happening here. That is NORMAL. What else does one expect if a young girl is thrown into the jaws of death?? Only a firm hand which sees beyond emotional struggles will heal as that hand has to lift you out of the morass you are in. After that, one should encourage catharsis as then the healing is complete. Always remember that the healer has no expectations from all this. The only expectation, rather fond hope, is a smile of gratitude when the process is over.
Gratitude is one of the most joyous moments in life. You will heal when you see the presence of gratitude being expressed internally.
We all need to bring back gratitude in our lives. Doctors and patients and hospitals and society. Only then will we be awestruck at what healing means. It has to be experienced inside. Not on the surface. Your world view will then change.
I find these posts helpful for patients. A very accurate depiction of what a patient feels. Doctors must read this.
Love and regards. Murli.
I am grateful for your ongoing support and motivation, which has played a significant role in sustaining my writing endeavours sir.