Tuesday, 20 November 2012


It's almost as if it's alive. It acts independently of me. Although I’m unsure of when it first arrived or when I first used it, I do know that the door has evolved. When I was younger if there were feelings I wanted to hide, situations I didn't want to remember or actions I didn't want to admit to, I would put them in bag and take them to the door. I would leave the bag outside and leave. I know it took the bag because of the sense of relief I would have after and could carry on as normal.  After a while this changed, I would still place things in a bag and zip it up, instead of me searching, looking and going to the door, the door came to me.

More recently though, depending on the situation and or the urgency, I didn't have to put things in a bag or look for the door or even wait for it. It would just be there. On rare occasions it's there already, waiting, knowing that it was going to be needed even before I did.

I did rely and depend on the door. It protected me and kept me safe.

The one thing that the door had never done was give me anything back.
Until now.
What the door did at the airport was to protect me. It helped me leave. It allowed me to manage. It helped me to cope.

It knew I couldn't cope with leaving my one true love, with separating our beautiful daughter from her loving mother. The door knew I couldn't manage, taking Livi on a 16 hour flight across the world, feeding her changing her. Carrying her and our entire luggage across London in the freezing cold.

The door helped me.

But, the one thing the door had never before done was give anything back.

As Livi and I got closer to our destination I started to see things and remember things. But only what I needed to keep me motivated, to keep me going. Every time I needed something, or should I say, the door decided I needed something, it appeared and gave something back.

Once I had reached my destination and achieved the final goal of hearing Melody's soft warm face the door gave everything back. All my memories of our time together came back.

The door didn't give everything back. It kept the airport. It didn’t' give me back the pain and hurt and suffering I was feeling. It only gave me back the good things.

After I finished speaking with Melody, I sat back, calm, relaxed and closed my eyes. I went to the door. It was still the same door, no way of opening it. No hinges, no handle, no lock where a lock should be only the word lock - L.O.C.K

Next to the door was still the list, the inventory of what was behind it. But it had changed. No longer did it say Melody 2008 - 2012. Now it said airport August 2012.

I said thank you, and left the door.

THE DOOR - to be continued


Come on Livi, we need to get to your Nan’s!


We don't have to hang around Livi.

Why the rush? Why the panic?

I have to hurry; I have to get to Bourne. I can’t hang around.

My mind, my body, my sole, my life is empty. But I still have this incredible sense of urgency.

I'm at Kings Cross station, we're on the platform. Waiting, waiting impatiently. Can't stop thinking I have to get back. God, I hope the train is on time. Please, no delays.

There's an announcement, the train is coming. Thank you, thank you. The train pulls in, we board. We quickly find our seats and sit. Our seats have table, Livi starts to play with some toys on it.

I see the door. I didn't look for it. I don't need it, it took everything already. I don't want to see it, I can't open it. But the door stays for a few moments.

There's an announcement, no expected delays and we'll arrive on time. I'm glad.

I feel something! I'm glad? Why?

The sense of urgency hits me again and I find myself thinking about the rest of my journey. I hope there's someone to collect us at the station? How long from the station to mums?

I see the door again. Then it was gone.

I looked at Livi and said when we get to Nan’s we need to ring your mum. Hey? Where did that come from?

Now I knew what the urgency was. I needed to speak to you. I had to call you; I had to hear your voice.

The train arrived in Peterborough. Quick Livi, we have to go.

We were stood outside the station waiting for whoever was going to meet us. I saw my sister, quick Livi. My sister pulled up in her car. Before she had time to get out I already had the boot open and started to load our bags in. My sister said something, but I wasn't listening. Quick get the bags in. Ok, now Livi, quick got to put her in the car seat. Then I got in the car and closed the door. Ok, let's go
My sister started to drive, she was talking to me. I know I answered her, but I wasn't paying any real attention. Just kept thinking I had get to mums as soon as possible, had to call you, had to speak to you.

We arrived at mums. We got out of the car. Unloaded our bags. Walked into the house. Saw mum. It was literally like that. I know I talked to mum. But I was so focused on wanting to speak to you.

What time is it in Thailand? Where were you? In Bangkok? On the bus? Back in Surat? Were you worried?

I saw the door again. As the door faded I was left with panic. I told Mum I needed to speak to you, now! She tried to give me some special number to get cheaper calls. What? I didn't care about saving money! I needed to speak to you! I picked up the phone. I dialed your number. My heart started beating faster. The number was ringing. I started to sweat. You answered. I heard your voice and I started to shake.

I saw the door.

No, I didn't want to see it. The door drifted away.

We spoke. I could see your face; I could see your smile. The more we spoke, the more I could see. Memories were coming back. I could feel the emptiness fading and the numbness drifting away. We spoke some more and I could see memories. The things we had done, the places we had been. I felt warm, relaxed. I could feel love. I turned and looked at Livi, she smiled back. I looked into her eyes and I could see staring back at me.

THE DOOR - to be continued

Sunday, 18 November 2012


I just sat and watched Livi. Watched her small closed eyes twitch and flicker, watched her small hands opening and closing, clenching her blanket. Watched her small chest move up and down with each soft sleeping breath. Did she know what was happening? Did she realize we were going on a long journey?

I'm not sure how long I was sat there, I didn't look at my watch, didn't look at a clock. Time didn't matter. Everything just seemed to have stopped. My life had frozen. I was empty, no thoughts of where I was or where I was going.

A stewardess came and tapped me on the shoulder and said it was time to board. All those travelling with children were boarding first. I thought, boarding? Boarding what? Where are we going? I looked at her confused and said thank you. I put Livi and my things together and we headed for the departure gate.

I had no emotion, no feelings, absolutely nothing. Just and empty black hole where my life used to be. Then I remembered the door. I knew everything was behind it. I started to want to open the door, I wanted it all back.
Before I knew it, we were at the end of the transfer tunnel and standing at the door to board the plane. I didn't even remember walking there. The Air hostess said that I couldn't take the pushchair; I had to take my child and leave it to be placed in the hold.

So I did, I boarded the plane with Livi in my arms and 2 bags, one over each shoulder.

Livi was awake now and staring straight at me. She didn't smile; she didn't blink, just stared. We were shown to our seat and we sat down.

From the moment we sat down everything became a blur. I didn't remember a single thing for the whole flight. I didn't know if watched anything, ate anything, and drank anything. I didn’t remember if Livi had or did anything. Was she still wearing the same clothes? No idea.

The captain came on and started to talk. He was speaking English but I didn't understand a word he was saying.
Then I came to with a jolt, came out of my daze and was suddenly alert - The captain said we were making our final descent and would land at Heathrow London in 5 minutes!



I was so confused.

I started to pack things away in the bags at my feet. Livi murmured, I looked straight at her. Oh I need to change you, maybe some milk. I looked in to her change bag and saw some packs of clothes, some open with dirty screwed up clothes and some sealed with clean, neatly folded clothes inside. There were little labels in each neat little pack describing when to use each one, such as in flight clothes 1, in flight clothes 2, night clothes 1, etc.

I said to Livi that, that was clever; someone has labeled when to use each pack. She didn't do anything. Let me change her, drank some milk. Then she settled in my lap with her own safety belt.

We had landed. Everybody was leaving the plane. I unstrapped us and we headed for the exit. Followed all the other sheep heading in the same direction.
We headed through the terminal, heading towards arrivals, I was rushing. Didn't know why I was rushing. I even started to run but I couldn't understand why the urgency. I had nothing to be in a hurry for. But I didn't slow down, I couldn't. Something was driving me to get a move on. But,what?

I turned the corner and saw arrivals. Quickly scanned each immigration desk for the shortest queue. Great, one desk empty, headed straight for it. I raced to the desk as fast as I could with 2 bags and a small child to manage. But I got there. The officer asked for documents. I gave him our passports. He looked at them, looked at us and said ok, go through. We did. We headed straight for baggage claim. Which belt? I said to Livi, we have to get our stuff quickly.

Why?  Why the hurry?

Nervously I looked for correct baggage belt and waited, seemed like ages. But each item came through. My bag, then Livi's bag, then finally the pushchair. Livi went straight into the pushchair. I looked around me and saw a porter. I grabbed him and asked him to take of us and our bags. He did and then and asked where were going.
I looked at Livi and said to her, where are we going? The porter laughed, and I looked at him wandering why he laughed. I didn't know where we were going so I hoped Livi did. She didn't answer. I reached for my pacsafe and opened it. There some train tickets. I took one out and handed it to him. He looked at it, said OK follow me, and we did

I just followed; I actually didn't know where he was taking us. I didn’t know where I was going or why. As we headed through some tunnels I started to see the door. The door inside me. I knew i had to find a way to open that door, there must be a way. I have to get my life back.

The porter led us to a train platform and said there will be one along in a minute. OK I said. He handed back the ticket, i looked at it. It said Kings Cross.
I said to Livi, we need to get to Kings Cross quickly; I hope the train comes soon....

THE DOOR - to be continued…

SHARING WITH: MellowYellowBadge

Saturday, 17 November 2012


I logged-in to my skype today to check my daily offline messages from my hubs-Kingsley. He normally leaves...hmmm...you know, sweet lovely messages-that's pretty normal, I guess. Plus, updates of how our daughter has been going on about her sleeping routine, feeds, teething and all that kind of stuff we deal as a parent. 

I couldn't have thought  that there is a huge surprise waiting inside...more than just an update of their daily activities in the UK and more than just a SHORT sweet lovely message. I didn't see this coming. I don't even know what I am going to tell him about how I feel in reading this beautiful piece. A beautiful piece from somebody that is only and recently learning how to open up his feelings.

I couldn't just keep this for myself. I couldn't be more proud and I have to share it with you...

Photo courtesy to: decar66

There is this door. It's a door to a room.
I have never opened the door; I've never been in the room.

I never knew the door could open. It had no handle or hinges.
It didn't have a lock, just the word lock - L.O.C.K, in place of where a lock would normally be.

Where is this door?

The door that I cannot open, that enters a room I have never been in, is inside me.
The door has always been there since I was very young, ever since I can remember.
When I picture the door, it's as big as a normal door to normal room and just as real.

What's behind the door?

Everything. Everything I want to keep hidden from the world. Every dream, every desire, every feeling and every emotion. All the things I don't want to remember. All the pain and sadness, all the love and joy is behind that door.

Photo courtesy to : thetextureclub

To the side next to the door, is a list. 
The list is an inventory of everything that is locked in the room.
No real description, sometimes only one word, like rugby or airport august 2012.

Airport August 2012

Photo courtesy to: loveagainstdistance

We parted, I went through immigration. I started to shake, my legs went weak. I stumbled; someone caught me and sat me down. I started to cry. I wanted to come back. I tried to stand, but couldn't. I started to panic. What was I going to? How was I going to cope? Who was going to keep you safe? Who was going to be there for you? What had I done to you? What about Livi? Who was going to give mummy cuddles? Does she understand?

So many questions, hundreds and thousands of questions. Not one single answer. Nothing.

Then I saw the door.

The door got bigger, so big, it completely filled me. So big that i couldn't see anything or anyone around me, I couldn't hear anything. Everything was totally silent. Then the door shrank back. Grew smaller until finally it disappeared.

All I was left with was a sense of numbness. Not numb because I couldn't feel anything. Numb because I was empty. There was nothing left inside of me. I was now a shell. When the door appears, I know what is going to happen. Happened so many times. Sometimes I'm glad to see it, sometimes not. I don't choose what goes behind the door. It doesn't let me decide that this will go or that will go. It won't let me pick and choose what emotions, feelings, memories or desires I can keep. It takes everything.

So there I was in immigration, dazed, confused, and empty. Everything was automatic and almost dreamlike.

I remember sitting at the departure gate and asking myself - why am I so numb? Why so empty? Why am I so confused? Normally something is left, a sort of reminder of what had happened? Livi was asleep. I closed my eyes, wandered around my mind and looked for the door. I approached the door and looked at it. Then I saw the list, the inventory of everything behind it. On it was "melody, 2008 to 2012. Everything was behind the door, every memory, every thought, every emotion, ever dream. I kicked and screamed, punched and shouted at the door.

The door had emptied my life!

I wanted the door to open. Needed it to open. I didn't care about the pain. I wanted my life back! I wanted to feel you again. I wanted to see you again. I wanted my memories back.

The door didn't open.

 I left the door.

The emptiness and loneliness was far worse than any pain the door took away.

_THE DOOR -to be continued_

SHARING WITH: MellowYellowBadge