Parenting the Child Within

Suppose you were to have a child, what would you tell her? Would you whisper to her that anything is possible, that dreams and magic can be real? Or would you caution her to tread carefully, to prepare for compromises, to understand the boundaries of what might be possible and what might not?

The truth is, parenting doesn’t begin when you hold a life in your hands. It begins with the child within. The one who still believes, still dreams, and still aches. That child matters. Your body matters. Your family, your emotions, the stories and songs—they all matter. Life itself matters. 

Life matters. So don’t give up just because it feels tough now. This moment is not forever, and what seems insurmountable today will shrink to its true size when you face it. Ocean though it may seem, it’s just a puddle. And yes, you’re the only one who can pull yourself out of it. 

As for me, it's time to show the universe that these things matter to me—not just in words but in choices. Choices that align with what I claim to believe. Choices that empower rather than weaken me. Stop sending out conflicting signals, pretending to be someone small, miserable, or helpless. That’s not me.

I have been unnecessarily squeezing yourself into a role of self-pity, forcing myself to live smaller than I am. Why? It’s time to be me—the authentic, unapologetic me.

It's time to enjoy life as it comes: the urges, the deprivations, the freedom, the pain. Let it cleanse me. Feel the pulse of my heart as it dances to the emotional weather of the world around me. Savor every storm, every sunrise, every quiet night. And while I live to do all this, keep writing.

So I need to begin again, with a clean slate. Forgive—not to forget but to free yourself from the chains of the past. Only unconditional forgiveness can make room for the magic I'll need to unleash. Only then can I show my child—the one within and the one in my lap —how a magician works.

I need to take responsibility. Parent the child within and express the man I am meant to be. Boldness isn’t always about taking action. Sometimes it’s about letting my feelings sink into my being, dissolving and reshaping me. And then, when the moment comes, expressing them. This life, this moment, even this struggle—it’s a sign. A reminder that I am meant to take charge of my house, my family, my self. 

I would like to end with a didactic whisper to Zen (the child I am holding in my lap) - Best of luck, mon ami. Luck favors the bold, and boldness is a kind of surrender, a willingness to live fully. Be ready to feel, to forgive, and to create. And never forget: You are enough.

Dancing on the Rope

Life is a tightrope, and to live is to move. Every step is a moment of balance, a silent game played breath by breath. Yet balance isn’t found in a single step—it’s woven through time. You may wobble, falter, even lean toward the edge—but keep moving.

Step by step, forward is enough. There will be many milestones - each with its unique sense of completion. You keep moving forward yet it feels like you are moving in circles. Keep moving ahead over the knots that lie in front and you will see the circles will get bigger and bigger. As you move, your feet learn the rhythm. Once heavy with doubt, they grow light with grace. And one day, you’ll find yourself not just walking, but dancing—steady and free—on this tightrope of life. 

Mrs. Sarita Bansal

Everything about her is pious. She is a much higher soul, who had taken this life to nurture and pull us up in our respective journeys. Her life and its roles were not for the faint-hearted. Her decisions seem to be guided by a force beyond self-serving logic.

She lived her intense life as if it was an offering to someone divine. She suffered a lot, laughed a lot, withstood a lot and still, gave a lot. Her sufferings seemed enough to be able to cut many lifetimes of accumulated karmas. She never asked for anything, neither from people nor from life. Just kept giving.  She still gives and guides. 

As for me, she brought me into this world physically. She also shaped me spiritually. From reading the Bhagwad Geeta to me as an embryo to the Art Excel course in childhood, the DSN and Vipassana in the 20s and Isha Yoga later on. She was the silent nudge behind all my spiritual explorations. My spiritual being was nurtured by her loving hands. She always knew when I was having a difficult time - my teenage turpitude or even decades later, my cluelessness before Zen. Her few words were enough to give me the zeal to move on. 

She was the one who, with her limited freedom and resources, touched everyone's life lovingly. A lifelong learner, She loved maths and was a self-taught creative content creator. Chatting away with her bountiful supply of sisters, brothers, friends and everyone in between. She was the first to shower their families with birthday and anniversary calls. She kept her sweet sisters, blissful family, Devashish family, Banasthali friends and innumerable other clans together with her CGI collages and videos. Sunshine or clouds, she did this every-day. Till the cancer entered her brain again. 

The disease did its best to be dreadful. Yet she hunted the cracks in its dread to give life her broad-nosed smile. The cancer melted the strong emotional walls she had built inside of her. One of those days when I was trying hard to lift myself up, Muskaan came and spoke to me about her. How she spoke about her made me realise how much I have missed about my mother's life. In the last 2 decades, I have been busy with my own worldly pursuits and whenever I met her, it was brief and about me. She had sewed her own web of relationships which she nurtured and tended to. Muskan showed me that. She was her first grandkid. And to protecting her sanity, she took her out shopping when the emotional weather was to traumatic for a child. When I had secretly and shamefully lost hope, Muskan used to say that "Dekhna, Maa will come out of it, she has fought it before successfully, that too twice"

After the imli chuski episode, when she chose to delay her departure, a lot of magic was happening around her every single day. She spoke extensively about her childhood and was frank and unafraid even around Papa. Often taking the liberty to joke around and cutting people short jokingly. Her last year was more to give us, her Lucknow family time to accept the ultimate reality. In the last one year of her difficult life, she closed the emotional loops of her key relationships. Her magic penetrated the toughest of walls. I still remember papa wearing sherwani on the last anniversary they celebrated together. He became more emotive, reminding her that he used to call her Sweetu while talking about their honeymoon. She enjoyed her time with Kabir who always knew exactly how to keep the whole family engaged. Ever talkative and observant, he always brought a smile to his Maa's face. These last couple of years of her life was all about creating wonderful memories with family. With Garv laying out the cards as Palash, Shubhi, Kaka Bhaiya and Niyati play along while she watched. Telling me how my guitar could be improved, posing for pictures in her most recently shopped hat and scarf. She nibbled on her favourite sweets as she narrated her childhood stories to Muskan and Nisha Bhabhi. All her sisters and brothers took turns to visit her, and her response to their obvious question was "Ekdum Badhiya hai Sab".

After multiple rounds of surgeries and chemo, came her first demand for herself - "Mera 60th birthday achche se manana" was what she told me after seeing one of her school friend's retirement party. I often feel that she purposefully gave us a chance to serve her before she leaves her body. She wished me on my birthday on 25th Jan 2024 and that was the last she spoke to me. 

Before leaving her body, she closed all karmic loops, to the extent that no one can feel good about her going. She was protective of me all through her life, till her very last breath. Protected me from the painful realities of life and death alike. She passed away, sparing me the trauma of seeing her go. She left her body with gangajal and tulsi on her lips. With the lord in her heart and "Hare ram, Hare Krishna" on her mind. She passed away as her husband and her eldest son held her.  After spending 60 years on earth, on the morning of Magh Purnima.

That gloomy night as her bereft body laid in the hall, the moon had its brightest shine in years. Celebrating her home-coming and telling us that her being's luminescence is there to stay, in one form or another.   

She came. She gave and she left. Even while dying, she showed us how to live. 

Yes, she was not that old. Yes, her abundance of love could be cherished by us for decades more. But now that the inevitable has happened, life gives me only one choice. In fact, mummy has already made that choice for me. The choice to face life, receive the abundance it has to offer, accept it fully and live willingly. Use life to reach the source of my being and extract the jewels stored therein. Bring them out and offer them to the world around. The huge void left by her is a black hole pregnant with possibilities. Possibilities that will give shape to the values she lived by. 

She lives on through all of us, her children. And she talks to us, tells us what she wants. Her secret diary reveals that she always had her children in her thoughts. Infusing the Guru force in their lives and rooting for their success. She is still doing the same.  Her life is soaked in ours. Manifesting through memories and our actions alike.

She wants her grandson Zen to never feel the lack of the super extra shower of love that she would have given, had she been around physically. She wants Niyati and me to take care of that. 

As for me, she wants me to define my own path, unafraid of the shadows of expectations of the world. She wants to see nothing but the ultimate realisation of my true potential. See my life burn bright with the exhaustion borne out of complete surrender. I must see her after this.  I know I must maintain access to Her. I will not distract myself from that. I want to be alone more often. To brew focus and invest it in my soul. She has left me with many a bigger job to be done. Now she wants me to direct my emotional energy and harness my life force in a way that allows me to fulfil my potential - as a father, as a husband, a friend and an officer. She wants me to make this life count. As for Niyati - she wants to see us as that couple who inspires millions to live meaningful lives, filled with kindness. Can feel her smile when watching Niyati hold Zen in her arms.

Most importantly, she wants all her children to remember her happy times and not the traumatic tremors. The times when she was truly alive. The times when she chirpily told her stories and happily shared videos of her family. When she connected people from across the world through her innocent concern and love. Her Zen and Kabir will know her for what she was - a strong, kind, giving person who was ready to forgive and move on. The coolest Maa in the world! Who worked and still works tirelessly to protect and nourish her own. 

One of those difficult days when language betrayed her, I found myself instinctively rubbing her forehead with my thumb. I was feeling like I was having a silent conversation with her. I gave her the news of her fourth grandchild and she mumbled something to herself. It is said that the soul takes home in an embryo after 3-3.5 months of conception. Just around her 61st birthday, 21 weeks after the shining moon. Zen was born. The math is clear. 

करना क्या है

How will you live if you know, as a fact, that your deceased parent is with you every moment, cheering for you to be the best version of yourself? 

As for me, I would want to make her proud and show her all that I can be. Living intensely, leaving no stones unturned and freeing myself from my past into a glorious future. I would live a life rich enough so as to be alive for millions of years, through the lives I touch. Exactly like my mom, who left her body on Saturday, the 24th of Februrary. I left at 5AM to catch the flight to meet her. I ended up scribbling this while I was driving home from the airport, where I had received the news of her demise. "Karna Kya hai" - The question I was asking at the moment, was as relevant to the social ceremonies involved as to the entire life I was living. 

घर आने को है, बहुत रो लिए, अब करना क्या है? 

जवाब इसका हमेशा मम्मी ने दिया है,

अब करना क्या है? 

घर पहुँचा आज जब, ना मिले जवाब तब, 

करना क्या है! बताओ ना मम्मी?   

आसुओं के प्रपात संग,उजड़ी सांस, सिसकि भंग,

दौड़-ता सवाल मन में, 

भेदता उपाय सब ये,

पूछे हर बीते क्षण, 

कि करना क्या है? 

अर्रे तू चीखता क्या है? कर ना वही, जो वो करतीं,

पूछ खुद से, तुझ ही में वो आ बसीं,

तो क्या है जी के करना - 

इस खौफनाक गणित में दिमाग मत लगा,

उनको जिंदा रखने को अभी तुझे है जीना। 

जो वक्त है ये मुश्किल,

तुझे रखना होगा बड़ा दिल,

धो के चेहरा, जा के सब से मिल,

हिम्मत दे सभी को, और दे भी ये तू भरोसा,

करा दे महसूस की अभी भी जिंदा है सरिता। 

बघिया मेरी

1.

ये कहानी है

एक सुंदर सी बघिया की, 

और चंद नन्हे से फूलों की,

पर था इसमें एक पेड़ भी ...

2.

बीते बचपन-जवानी फूलों के,

बघिया की गोद में खिलखिलाते,

एक पेड़ की छाया में पलते,

हँसते हुए, गीत उसके गाते ... 

3. 

वो फूल तो थे बघिया के दिवाने,

पर पेड़ समझे कि वे उसके अहम के दृश्य से थे चहकते,

अपने झूठे वहम में, मूर्ख पेड़ वो बादलों को ललकारे,

बेखबर, की थी वो बघिया ही, जो उसे बचा के रखे ...

4.

क्यूंकि जब बादल निकलें वृक्ष के अहम को तोड़ने, 

बघिया फूलों को आघोष में लिए, हाथ जोड़ तूफानों को रोके, 

श्रृष्टि  के कहर को झेल, अपनों के जीवन सीचें, 

बेखबर पुष्प और पेड़, बस खेलते रहे खेल दुनिया के ...

5.

पर पता नहीं कब और कैसे,

उस पेड़ में और भी भारी राक्षस आ बसे,

जो बघिया को कोसें और मारें,

डरावने रूपों से फूलों की रूह झक्झोंकें ...

6.

राक्षसों का सिलसिला था चलता रहा,

बघिया के प्रेम से मेहेकता था फूलों का समा,

कई साल बघिया ने राक्षसों से सबको बचा के रखा,

जब हुआ बहुत तो बेचारी ने बिमारी को कबूला ...

7.

आज बघिया के पत्ते हैं झड गए,

और अर्ध-ज्ञान के अहम से फूले वृक्ष को छोड़ गए,

 उनकी ममता की खुशबू से आज भी फूलों का जीवन महके,

याद में उनकी, फूलों के आँसू सूखे ...

8.

अब, फूल देखें पेड़ को बिन बघिया के घेराव के,

डरे, सोचें, बिन सोचे वो डरे ,

न चाहते हुए भी नफरत करें,

उस वृक्ष में उन्हें वोह खौफनाक राक्षस जो दिखें ...

9.

राक्षस अहम का -

हंसने में असहज, आक्रोश में नहीं,

जिसने अपनों से प्रेम के दो बोल कभी बोले नहीं,

जिसमें खुद से पहले, दूसरों को रखने की क्षमता नहीं ...

10.

राक्षस अज्ञानता का -

जो पूर्ण हो पैसे से, प्रेम से नहीं,

जो तौले रुतबे को, देखे भाव को नहीं,

जो है भरा सा, ज़रा भी खाली नहीं ...

11.

पर आज, उन राक्षसों से आजाद,

अपनी खुशबू से भी सिखा रही अपने फूलों को उनकी बघिया माँ,

दिखा रही राक्षस के पीछे का बेबस पौधा,

डर है जिसे अपने कमजोर होने का ...

12.

माँ, आपने अपनी छाया से इस फूल को न होने दिया जुदा,

एक सुन्दर परिवार चुन जो नियति के हवाले था कर दिया,

आज ध्यान में आपके साथ होने का एहसास फिर वापस आ गया,

पर उस मूर्ख पेड़ को अपना पाने का इम्तिहाँ ये क्यूँ दे दिया? 

स्वीकार

 

I.

क्या चल रहा है मन में?

कहीं कोई भद्दा मज़ाक तो नहीं?

पहले भी तो ऐसा हुआ है –

बनता दिख, सब बिगड़ गया है,

कहीं जल्दी तो नहीं खुश होने की?

II.

लाजमी है तेरा यूं डरना,

थोड़ा ठहरना, लपकने से झिझकना,

जरूरी भी हो शायद,

थोड़ा बच के चलना।

III.

तेरी चिंता से परे अब बात आई मुझे समझ,

अर्रे अपने को नहीं कोई बच के चलने की गरज,

जिंदगी दे रही एक नन्हा सा नया तोहफा,

बंधन समझ कर, इसे आंक मत छोटा,

वरदान है जो उसने तेरी गोद में ला रखा,

सामने इसके ना मूल्य किसी और चिंतन का।

IV.

तो मेरे दोस्त,

मत बचा तू आज मुझे टूटने से,

टूट के भी तो बच्चे हम उसी के रहेंगे।

जब समझा उसने काबिल हमें उस अमूल्य तोहफे के,

आ अब उसे सहज खुश हो के स्वीकार लें...

प्रतिबिंब

बेटा,

क्या चुकाने की बात तू है कर रहा?

मेरा प्यार था वो, मेरे अपनों के लिए,

कोई क़र्ज़ नहीं, जिससे पा सके तू छुटकारा। 

 

किस समय की तू है गिनती कर रहा?

ये साथ था जो, लगे कुछ सालों का ये,

पर था, आदि से अनंत तक का।

मुझसे जन्मा, है मुझ में ही तुझे मिटना,

जब ख़ुद ही माना तूने देवी मुझे,

तो यह कैसे हिसाब में तू लग गया?

बेटा,

नहीं कुछ गया है, है नहीं तू अकेला,

चल तू अब मेरे दिये पथ पे,

बिन डर, झिझक के, बहुत दूर अभी है चलना।

 

हर स्वास जीवन है, इसे ख़ुशी से है जीना,

मैं आयी इस अंधेरे में लौ जलाने,

अब इस दिये को तुझे है अखंड बनाना।

 

बहुत हुआ, छोड़ ये सवाल बेमतलब के,

चाहे मिलना मुझसे 

तो बस आँख भर बंद कर ले।

 

और बेटा,

कहीं और नहीं, तुझ ही में है प्रतिबिंब मेरा।।

पागलपन

हो रहा संग मेरे सब कुछ है बुरा,

फिर कैसे, तुझे मैं धन्यवाद दे रहा?

शायद, है यही दिमाग का भ्रष्ट हो जाना,

कितनी आसानी से मान लिया कि सबको है जाना?

क्या जब बात खुद की होती,

तो कह पाता इतनी ही आसानी से?

सोचो, जब बात खुद की होती,

तो कह पाता क्या, इतनी ही आसानी से?

 

कुबूल पाता घिनहोने सच को,

क्या इतनी ही बेशर्मी से?

कुबूल कर पाता, इस घिनहोने सच को,

क्या इतनी ही बेशर्मी से?

 

कोने में घुस कर तड़पते होंठों से रो रहा होता,

तब ना मैं यह खोखले शब्द गढ़ रहा होता।  

 

शायद आसान है मेरे लिए,

यूं हाथ जोड़ कबूल कर लेना।

कुबूलियत की कविताओं की महक से,

बेसहारेपन की दुर्गंध को ढकना।

 

ऐ मौत,

ये हाथ खुद-ब-खुद गए तेरी अगुवाई में,

क्यूंकी जीतेगी तू ही इस लड़ाई में।

समझदारी है मेरी की कर लिया जल्दी कबूल,

अब कभी ना होगी मुझसे पुरानी भूल।

जियूँगा हर पल तेरी मौजूदगी में,

तेरा प्रतिबिंब होगा मेरी बची हुई जिंदगी में।

And Then, the child cried...

I 

The man wrote poems,

probing his numb heart for something divine,

while secretly wishing that he would cry.

 

Wishing he could cry and break down,

remove these cruel rationalities' gowns,

and demand a long life for his mom.

 

The ironies wrecked emotional crusades within,

but his efforts to draw tears went in vain,

he finally slept as his energy drained…

 

II

In the dream his lives' maternal angel called,

said her blessings as she always does,

smiled and cheered at him, despite her hurts…

 

She suffered the stutters in her will to speak,

to lay her hand on his head as the chaos seeped,

It happened on his birthday, beside the cake hurting his mom lay…

 

III

And in that very dream, as the man died,

caught unawares, the inner child cried ...

इमली की चुस्की

वो इमली की चुस्की,
वो जीने की चाहत,
वो अपनों की जरूरत,
और मौत की फुसलाहट। 

आज ये सब लड़े थे,
इस बंद कमरे में,
इक सिकुड़ती रज़ाई के अंदर।

 
जब वास्तविकता के तूफ़ानी थपेड़े,
थक गए नाजुक उम्मीदों के आगे,
तब हुआ वही जो तय किया था उसने।

 
इस मौत के शून्य में,
जाने कब हुई मेरी देवी प्रकट - 
एक इमली की चुस्की से,
उस टूटे शरीर में उसने भर दी ताकत। 

उन टूटे दिलों  में, बना ली अपनी बसाहट।। 

PS: Dedicated to all the caregivers out there. There is huge power in our hopes. Keep hoping. 

चिंता मत कर

सब अच्छा होगा,
उनके लिए जो हो अच्छा, वही होगा,
चिंता मत कर, सब अच्छा होगा ।।   
 
तेरी नकली खुशी, दबे हुए आसुओं से कुछ ना होगा,
जो वो तय करेगा, वही तो होगा,
चिंता मत कर, सब अच्छा होगा ।।  
 
इन कमजोर उम्मीदों, अधमरी हारों से भी कुछ ना होगा,
तेरी कोशिशों से नहीं, उसके इशारों से ही समय चलेगा,
चिंता मत कर, सब अच्छा होगा ।।  
 

चाहे हो जीना या उसमें विलीन हो जाना,
क्या है बेहतर, वोह निर्णय करेगा,
चिंता मत कर, सब अच्छा होगा ।।  
 
जो होना होगा वही तो होगा
देखना बस है, कि तू कितना समझ सकेगा,
चिंता मत कर, सब अच्छा होगा ।। 

समझ रहा है ना?
उनके लिए जो हो अच्छा, वही होगा,
अब तू चिंता मत कर, सब अच्छा ही होगा ।।  
 

PS: Dedicated to all the caregivers out there. Everything is as per his plan. Acceptance is a choice.

Mumma

That innocently naughty smile of yours.

When the Child within you, smiles at us all.

Peering through the clouds of despair,

Ignoring the pain and soaring in the air.

 

The baldness adds to the glow of your sweet presence. All your goodness flows like warm chocolate into that uber cute face of yours...

The eyes that look straight at me, as if seeing through me. The eyebrows that move in a friendly way - as if sharing an intimately naughty secret with their son. I pull your cheeks tenderly, like that of a child. I have felt like one around you in my life so far. It's only apt that you are allowed to do the same today. In your moments of un-ease, when a stroke of fate has exhumed a few memories foul. Never mind your recollection's partial loss, it can be pacifying at times. You're here with me for a long time. I know it in my bones. And you will be happy, peaceful, and joyfully naughty. Like you truly are. Love you. My Mumma.