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My bipolar life and Aasthma Uncategorized

The journey

She irritates 
An angry being
She cries out
To tell her story
———
He can’t understand
He’s just not
Made for it
——–
The profound
The mystic links
She speaks about

The coincidences 
———-
To him
They do not matter
———–
But they do
To her
———-
She wants
Him 
To understand 
———-
He can’t take it
The accusations 
—–
The doctor
He says 
Give her the pill
———-
She refuses
She’s not the problem
That’s what she thinks
———-
There’s no suicide
It’s not impulsive
———
A calculated one
———–
She knows
The maximum dosage
That will help
Solve the problem
———-
It boomerangs 
He thinks it is
An attempt
At suicide
———-
He can’t let
His loved one
Suffer 
Or walk away 
Or die
———–
He calls the doctor 
He tells him
The dosage
That she had
Told him
———-
She won’t die
He assures
———
Take her
To a
Government hospital 
———–
The neighbour arrives
The brother calls
Her parents consoled
———
Her brother checks
She will not die
The medicines
They’re not fatal
——–
If only they knew
That she knew
That she wouldn’t die
That  she knew
What she’d consumed
Was well within
The permissible limits
————
You need to come
They say
———/
She knows what coming
She surrenders
Emotions welling
In her heart
———-
But calm
And quiet 
——-/
His heart is heavy
Trying his best
To stop the 
Tears welling up
Inside
———
He has to take her
There’s no other way 
———
No one wants 
This psycho
The private hospitals
Won’t admit
——-
There they go
To 
The government hospital
———–
Two patients
To a bed
Their relatives
Sleep underneath
———
The doctors they
Are  overworked
——–
She feels compassion
But there’s nothing
She can do
———-
Except
Maybe give
Some misplaced
Consolation 
———
Perhaps misleading 
Medical advice
———–
It’s early morning
They have been shuffling
From department 
To another
Xrays
And other reports
———-
She gets to sleep
On a bed
With a nurse
———
There’s no doctor
Blood dribbling out
From
The saline drip
She writes
To the doctor   
LISTEN TO THE PATIENT 
——-
But  then
Nobody does
———
If only they knew it wasn’t 
Suicide 
They’d have packed her off
With medicine
———-
They’ve had no sleep
All three of them
———
The  mania sets in
———
They get a pipe 
The next day
To draw out the poison
She chokes with pain
She cannot scream
The pipe’s inside
———
He notices
Her tears
Stop he says
——-
She calls the doctor
Get Anesthesia 
she says
They dip the pipe
In that numbing liquid
The pain is gone
——-
The foul concoction 
Retched out
The poison probably 
Long gone
——–
Now she’s back 
To another ward
No one gives her
Her medication 
The poor doctors
Overworked 
——–
She’s dizzy
There’s no breakfast
——–
A poor old lady
With two pairs of clothes
In the city
From a distant village
Seeking a cure
For her daughter’s
Undiagnosed illness 
——–
She asks
She enquires
She’s not
Sophisticated 
——–
Shocked to learn
I’m all alone
She brings it
———
A tiny box
And offers her
A large laddoo
——–
She can’t accept
She’s sophisticated
———– 
She has to save
For her daughter 
No she says
———-
You are my daughter 
She takes a bite
———
Is delicious
With homemade ghee
——–
The poor has 
For once 
Helped the rich
———
He’s gone to find
A better place
——
She’s calm
But 
That’s a mirage
———
The mania 
Is rearing
It’s ugly head
——–
The senior doctor
With his interns
Giving them
A monologue 
About what
She doe recall
———
She goes up
And give her own
About 
How vital it is
To store
Their medical history 
——–
Give them a file
Punch their papers in
And keep a parallel
In the hospital 
In case
They lose it
———
They listen in silence
Their expressions blank
———
Frustrated
She heads out
Down the stairs
And walks out
With the strength
And confidence
Of the mania
———
Or is it 
Of the mania?
——–
On the streets 
Cars buzzing past
She has in mind 
A place to go
———-
An unfinished business
———
The direction
She doesn’t know
——–
She crosses the street 
A couple of times
Trough the traffic
Buzzing past
At high speeds
——–
She’s weak
Just a laddoo
In her belly
——-
She stretches her arm
Trying to get 
Someone to notice
——-
She has nothing
——-
No money
No cards
No phone
No direction
Just her clothes
And her slippers
And her faith
———-
She wants to go
Where she once worked
To ask for help
Not for herself
But for those
Kind old souls
Who cannot travel
——–
As they can’t
Climb up those stairs
Of their crumbling 
Houses
———
Then a man
Stops his bike
I’ve run out
Of the hospital
She tell him 
The  truth
———
I cannot take you
All the way
I’ll drop you
At the crossroads
——–
They talk about
Her motives
His life
And then they’re at
The crossroads 
———
Who he was 
She’ll never know
———
But he was 
She thinks
Just
Kindhearted
Human being
——–
She walks a kilometer
And then
She’s there
The place 
Where she worked
——–
She tried to go in
She’s stalled
By the receptionist
Here clothes crumpled
Her face full of dirt
Her hair unwashed
Uncombed
——-
She meets a person
He’s all nice
And his colleague
She’s recently joined
———
The one she seeks
The one
She thinks
Can help
Is no longer there
——
She tries to explain
To that man in white
But her brain
Is a muddle
She begins to tell
A wrong story
——–
He asks
For her husband’s 
Details
———
She tells  him
Where he works
She tells him
His number
But stops midway
———/
Shes not going
Till she finished
What 
She came for
——-
He is gone
To get in touch
With her husband
——-
She’s talking
To her
Friendly
She looks
And sees them
——
They’re smiling
At her
—–
They’re his friends
She tells her
They’re here canvassing 
——–
She replies
She knows
They’re been sent
To get her
——-
Come
I’ll take you there
To the boss 
You want to meet
——-
It’s a suite
With a comfortable bed
She knows it’s a trap
The boss doesn’t operate
From this place
——–
They will come to get me
She says
I’m going out
——–
She walks 
Out
She spots a friend
He’s due to retire
Glad to see her
He takes her in
——-
She sees the door
Of the big cabin
Walks in excited
——–
She’s happy
But wants to know
Whether they’re using
The software
She had developed 
——-
She’s unbalanced
Rage sets it
She races out
Ranting
——-
A kindly neighbour 
Has called
Her husband
——-
They’re all there
To capture her
She rants
She screams
Walks out
And shouts
About human rights
———–
Call the police 
She barks
Like a dog 
Pushed to a corner
———
There they are
So many of them
——-
The executives
They pretend 
Not to see
——
She’s psycho
Certified
She needs
To be take away
——–
She doesn’t know
About
The Mental Health Act
——-
Five or six
They manhandle her 
And off she is
In his car
——–
Was he right
Was she wrong
Was she right
Was he wrong
——–
Could this have been
Nipped in the bud
——-
No one will ever know
Except HIM
——–
Was it all
Just meant to be?
Thrice she was lost
But was sent home
By kind souls
Sent by HIM
——-
Back 
From the streets
To her aunt’s home
To her home
Back
From the streets
To her hospital
To her home
Back from the streets
To her workplace
To her home
——–
Wasn’t it her 
Who told them
Her cousin’s name
Wasn’t it her 
Who told the sister
About seven hills 
Who told him
Her workplace
Wasn’t it her
That told him
Her husband’s contact
——-
Why did she tell?
Was it because
Deep in her heart
She still wanted 
To be back home?
——
Was it because
The Spirit in her
Showed her the way?
——–
Was it just
A coincidence?

——

By Jyothsna DSouza

I’m at home
With my children
With plenty of time
To read, teach, and muse

I believe if you have
The capacity
To do good
And others
They confirm
It is good
If it’s important
For many,
Not one
One must persist
To the end,
Till all one’s
Resources
Are exhausted

Man lives on hope

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