Abandonment

Tales of the wretched: Ashok and his mother – Chapter four: Redemption flowing

Geetha B Abandonment, Absence, Redemption, Short stories, Stories, Story, Tales, Wretched , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 
Tales of the wretched: Ashok and his mother – Chapter four: Redemption flowing
7-8 October 2025
Courtesy freepik.com


Ashok slowly disengaged from Annie’s embrace attempting to put some distance between them and have a calm chat with her. His arms were still limp by his sides as he eased himself out of her clutch. He realised from her vice-like grip that it had been a long time since anyone had been kind to her. He thought about his mother again and how she had been helpless with nobody showing her any kindness while she struggled. This is how people were pushed into desperate actions because they felt completely disregarded by everyone around them. He sighed internally thinking that he had been too young to find a solution to their predicament and his mother had literally worked herself to death while reserving most of the food she could get her hands on to him. There had been no shelter when he was young, just places for single young pregnant women to go to until birth of their child.

He looked at Annie whose face seemed crestfallen as she wondered what to make of him pushing her away. He was not sure how to handle this as he had kept his feelings under wraps for the longest time ever, even while he was married, even when he was happy when dating his wife before he married her. He had always felt that if he gave in to his emotions it would be like a dam that might obliterate everything around him. He had hated his relatives for such a long time and with such passion that he was afraid of expressing any other emotion lest he get carried away and start expressing those feelings of hatred as well, be submerged by them and act only in line with what they released within him. At times he had felt that the hate was such that it would turn into a fire that would physically consume his heart.

-	Annie, I just want to help you and your son but I have been a lonely man for such a long time that I do not know how to speak normally with people.
-	You did talk to me at the shelter
-	Well you see, that is different. At the shelter I have a role that I embraced and that is to help people in the shelter with food and blankets. I know the drill. It is unemotional, safe and almost always the same. I did feel sympathy for you because you reminded me of someone I knew a very long time ago but I usually interact with those who come to the shelter in a very mechanical way. There are no other emotions than perhaps a slight touch of pity. When I saw you at the shelter, it made something stir in me, something that I had thought I had let go a long time ago
-	So you don’t feel pity for me?
-	Not really. I am just overwhelmed by the need to keep you and your son safe. 

After a long pause, he decided to tell her everything about his childhood, the desperate times when his mother could not sell what she had made, the resulting famine-filled days, how his mother had become so gaunt that she looked like a corpse, the absence of his relatives, their presence when she had died, his hatred of them, the orphanage that had saved him from the hatred that was eating him – at least for a while.

-	Did you ever marry, she asked
-	I did, he answered
-	Did you love her? Did you have children?
-	I did love her but I guess the hatred inside did not allow me to love her properly. The love I had inside of me for her was like a shell, it was not bright and happy like she would have liked it to be. The hatred inside kept making a hole that neither my love for her, nor hers for me could ever fill and appease. Eventually she got tired of waiting for me to love her like she would have liked to be loved. Five years of a relationship that had the dull ache of unresolved hatred festering within it and she decided to move on. We never had children as she felt that I was broken and she thought that broken men should never become fathers. She had her own issues with her father who was never able to express love. It has been almost ten years since that day she decided to leave me. I guess it is best for broken men like me not to be in a relationship.
-	I don’t think you are broken. The man who left me with his child, that is a broken man. You don’t hurt someone you have loved unless you’re broken. Nobody who is whole would hurt another soul without reason. From what I have seen from you, you have only been kind to me and I did not see you hurt anyone else. You might have been badly hurt but you are not broken, not like what I would think of a broken man
-	Thank you Annie but I think she might have been right. There is this hole inside of me that never goes away, or at least not until that evening when I saw you feed your boy and something stirred inside of me, not until now when I saw how happy you were to be here.
-	Thank you for helping us. My boy had not had a good bath in so many months. They did not always allow us into the Bain des Paquis and I could not use them anyway during the winter months. I tried to stay under the radar so social services would not take him away
-	You can stay here as much as you want. You do not need to go to the shelter anymore, I will bring the food here.

Annie rushed and hugged him again and he let her hold him fiercely this time. His arms were still limp by his side but he started feeling like a stirring in his shoulders and arms which slowly twitched and his arms then rose to hold her around the shoulders, softly pressing her onto his chest. Her tears fell freely again on his coat and he sighed as he felt a stirring in his heart while he could see behind his closed eyes a slow glow that seemed to fill his chest. All the sadness of not having been able to help his mother seemed to soar from his heart to his eyes which brimmed with tears. As his tears mingled with Annie’s tears, he felt like a wall had crumbled within his chest. All the years of self reproach on his lack of initiative to help his mother flowed with the mingled tears, washing both their hearts from sadness and pain. It was as if redemption flowed within his heart and he smiled with gratitude for being able to help Annie and her boy.

Damian Marley ft. Lady Gaga - Ashes and Roses

Embracing the Bogeyman

Geetha B Abandonment, Absence, Bleeding, Death, Desolation, Despair, Mother , , , , , , , , , , , 
Embracing the Bogeyman 
11 July 2025
Courtesy freepik.com


The little girl woke up with a feeling of dread. Her mind was still fuzzy and she did not remember the events of the day before but she knew that something was off. She sat up in her bed and as she took in her surroundings, the memories flooded her mind and she remembered how her mother had lain in a pool of blood and urine with her father attempting to bandage the wound in her head. She jumped out of bed and ran to the room next door to catch a glimpse at her mother through the square but there was nobody in there. She found out from the maid that her father had taken her mother to the hospital where she would stay a few days until she was healed.

The little girl turned her head towards where she sensed the Bogeyman was forming. As usual, none other than her could see the Bogeyman. She slipped her hand into his and tugged it in the direction of the lion’s den, her father’s favourite room in the house. They had called it the lion’s den because her father would bellow out of it for them to stay quiet when he was in there meditating and they were making a lot of noise. His bellowing strangely resembled the roar of a lion. Her father never bellowed against the whimpers or screams of her mother though. She wondered why. Did he not hear them or did he choose to ignore them? There was nobody in the lion’s den either.

The maid came out of the kitchen and chastised her for not listening. “Did you not hear when I told you that your father has taken your mother to the hospital?”, she said. “I thought it was already done before and that he was back”, the little girl said. The maid frowned, displeased, and went back to the kitchen to cook the first two meals of the day. She always cooked the first two together, breakfast and lunch, so she had time on her hands when she had to tend to the chores in the house. The dinner was always cooked fresh as her dad was back from his work and he did not like re-heated food. Normally, in their family tradition, the maids never cooked as it was always the lady of the house who had to cook and the maids only did the chores and especially the cleaning. It was considered very low class to allow the maid to cook for the family but they had no option as her mother was unwell and her father would not be able to cook as he worked.

Several days passed and her mother was back home. She seemed healthy and happy and the little girl was beyond herself with happiness as she had her mother back like she was before. Before she had claimed that her in-laws were poisoning her, that is, and she had been extremely ill, vomiting and feeling feverish. Her dad had given her mother pills to vomit and once her stomach was empty she seemed to feel better but she had never trusted the maid or her in-laws again, so much so that she became totally paranoid and would only use vegetables that she herself bought from the market. The little girl shook off those sad memories and clung to her mother with renewed happiness. Her little brother also joined in although the maid had been trying to keep him away from his mother since he came back from his time at his grandmother. The mother beamed at her two younger children and held them tight against her bosom and the little girl squeezed her younger brother’s hand. She was so happy he was back and that her mother was alright.

After a few days that her mother had been back home, her health started worsening and she had spells of vomiting as well as episodes of deep paranoia where she would clutch the maid by the shoulders and shout at her that she would kill her because she was poisoning her again. She mostly did this in the morning after the father had left but once she started screaming and punching the maid before the father had left. The maid was wailing and asking for help from the neighbours who had come down to see what was causing the ruckus. The father shut the door after asking the neighbours to let him settle the family problems on his own. He turned towards the mother and dragged her to the room where he had kept her before. She started screaming and trying to pull away from him but he kept his grip on her. He opened the door, pushed her in unceremoniously and locked the door behind her. The mother started pleading to be let out but her husband stayed inflexible. The maid gave her a wicked triumphant smile and went into the kitchen sniggering.

On his way out, the father gave the maid the key to the room stating that she should accompany his wife to the toilet whenever she needed to go there and that she must allow her to shower every morning and every evening if she needed to. It was so hot outside that the mother usually preferred to shower twice a day. The maid uttered a low hmpf in consent, not daring to say anything to the father even though she doubted her capacity to handle his wife on her own. She thought that she should ask the older girls to help her with their mother rather than handle things on her own. She went to them and told them they needed to help her with their mother as she was too strong and it would be risky for the maid to let her out on her own. The little girl stayed in her room, listening to everything that was being said. 

Shortly after the father’s departure, the mother said she wanted to have a shower. The maid went fearfully to the room and called the older girls but only the eldest came together with the little girl. “Go get your older sister”, said the maid to the little girl who just blinked at her quietly. The maid yelled for the second sister but there was no response. The mother started yelling that she needed to go shower so the maid opened the door cautiously letting the mother out. As soon as she was out, the mother tried to catch the little girl who ran away as her mother’s eyes had turned ablaze. She was yelling at the maid but also at her daughters. She kept saying that the household had turned wicked and everyone had to run away or die. The little girl saw from the corner of her eyes her little brother crawling towards her mother. Before she could do anything, the mother had grabbed her brother and was holding him above her head in an attempt to throw him on the ground. 

Suddenly the little girl felt the neighbours brush past her and swiftly retrieve her brother from her mother’s arms. The neighbours ran with the little boy upstairs while the mother turned her attention to the eldest girl and started dragging her outside the house, saying that they should all die. She attempted to clutch the little girl too but the second sister who had run in hearing all the shouting grabbed her younger sister and both of them ran towards the house of the neighbours on the other side of the street. None of the neighbours had, however, thought of retrieving the eldest girl from the clutches of her mother who was now dragging her towards the pond next to the railway station. The little girl looked back at her eldest sister who was squirming, screaming and trying to escape the clutches of her mother. She called to the Bogeyman and there he was, right next to her eldest sister, forcing her mother’s hand open and freeing her eldest sister. She looked on as the Bogeyman gave way to her father who seemed to walk through the Bogeyman and rescue his oldest daughter. Her eldest sister was sobbing in the arms of her father while the Bogeyman looked on seemingly undecided on what to do. The little girl called to the Bogeyman and he flew towards her. As he reached her, she raised her arms and embraced him. Slowly the Bogeyman returned her embrace before softly dissolving into her…

Adele - Girl Alone

What the Bogeyman knew

Geetha B Abandonment, Death, Heart, Heartache, Heartbeat, Mother, Sadness , , , , , , , , , , , , 
What the Bogeyman knew
5 July 2025
Courtesy freepik.com


The little girl went to sleep shortly after the Bogeyman had led her to her bedroom and hovered above her as if he were tucking her in. She slept a solid 8 hours without waking up even as the voices outside her bedroom had increased in their pitch before becoming unintelligible murmurs. There were neither dreams nor nightmares to trouble her sleep. She woke up the next day much later than usual and it seemed like the subdued voices of the night before had really picked up a lot. She raced into the hall towards the next room to check the square from where she kissed her mother daily but her mother was nowhere to be seen.

As she approached the square, she could smell the stench of urine mingled with the sickening smell of blood that she would later identify as two types of smells of blood, one from menstruation and the other from cuts in the skin. She tried to look through the square but the maid grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Her mother was whimpering most of the time but would also emit from time to time a terrible wail. The little girl was struck with fear, not from her mother but about what had happened to her mother. She tried to run towards the square again but the maid pulled her harder, tightening her grip on her arm, which would later cause bruises that the maid did not own up to.

The little girl’s heart began to hammer in her ribs and she felt like wailing together with her mother. She wanted to know what had happened and could not understand why those horrible smells emanated from her mother’s room. Her dad usually unlocked the door and accompanied her mother to the bathroom whenever she needed to so she could not understand why there was so much urine in the room. She could feel the Bogeyman forming next to her but she was too distraught to talk to him. She tugged again trying to free herself from the maid’s grip and felt her relax her hold on her. She rushed to the square and peeked through. On the ground, her mother lay whimpering and wailing, blood running from a gash in her head. There was blood all over her mother’s thighs and all the bloods mingled with urine that lay in a puddle in the middle of the room.

The little girl’s heart beat so much faster she felt like it was in her mouth about to come out with the vomit leaving her lips that had turned white. In one corner of the room she had seen her dad who seemed to be opening a box of band aids to put on her mother’s head wound. He also had big wads of cotton and she was not sure whether that was for her mother’s wound as well. On the side of one wall, where the windows were, she could see streaks of blood and bloodied footsteps. It was as if her mother had climbed trying to escape out of the window. Her dad was yelling to the maid that she should not have let her climb and throw herself from the window onto the floor. He seemed cross that the maid did not realise what was happening and had not heard all the ruckus as she was the one who slept closest to the mother’s room. The little girl wondered why her mother had tried to throw herself from the window onto the floor. It made no sense. Why was she doing that?

The Bogeyman turned towards the little girl, slipped his hand into hers and embraced her with the other hand. She felt the cold that had befell her grow stronger. A tight knot was forming in the pit of her stomach and the chill she felt seemed to occupy her whole back, making her shoulderblades stiff and painful. 

-	Why?, she said. 
-	Your mother is very ill, said the Bogeyman.
-	I don’t want her to die
-	She probably won’t
-	Daddy said that if she causes problems he will take her away
-	Your daddy will not take her away. He does not know where to leave her
-	I don’t want mommy to go away. I don’t want mommy to die
-	This time she has not died but she will do this again. You don’t remember but the same thing happened when you were younger. You might not remember it now but some day you will remember. Your mother wants to die. She does not like being here. She hates the maid and she hates how she is not free to do as she pleases. She hates it here. She might keep doing this until she finally dies.

The little girl started wailing again and her mother echoed with her own wails. The Bogeyman stared from one to the other then wiped the little girl’s tears. 

-	I will make sure your mommy does not do this again, he offered trying to appease the little girl. 
-	Please don’t let mommy die, the little girl said half whimpering half wailing
-	I promise you I will watch over both you and your mother
-	I want to go to bed, I don’t want to see mommy bleeding anymore
-	I will tuck you in and then watch over mommy. Don’t worry

The Bogeyman took the little girl to her bedroom and watched over her as she slept. He knew what had happened. He had been expecting this to happen again. Everybody else had forgotten but he had been waiting in the shadows for things to worsen and this to happen again. The Bogeyman had always known…

Karliene - Ghost Story

Pour les cœurs faire gémir sentiers vains arpentés

Geetha B Abandonment, Absence, Alexandrin, Bilingual poetry, Coeur, Oiseaux, Poems, Poesia, Poetry , , , , , , , , , , 
Pour les cœurs faire gémir sentiers vains arpentés
21 mars 2024
Courtesy freepik.com


Je recherchais en dunes l’expression du profil
de l’aimé reconnaître traits vivants aiguisés
De nuit pâleur de lune croise mon battement de cil
sortilège à renaître pour mes veines enlisées

De leur bouche les lacunes médisances serviles
des dédits me repaître mes atours méprisés
bleue sirène en lagune fus-je donc proie facile
des desseins champêtres pour mes sens dégrisés

Dans les champs s’étendaient des oiseaux bleu azur
de leur bec font frémir étendards argentés
que les cieux abattaient sans commune mesure
pour les cœurs faire gémir sentiers vains arpentés

Lecture du poème:
Brief translation into English

For hearts to groan, vain paths trodden
21 mars 2024

I was looking in the dunes for the expression of the profile 
of the beloved to recognize sharp living features 
Of night the pallor of the moon crosses my fluttering lashes 
spell to be reborn for my trapped veins 

From their mouths the lacks servile backstabbing
From denials to nourish myself my finery despised
blue mermaid in the lagoon was I an easy prey 
of rural designs for my sobered senses 

In the fields blue birds spread themselves
from their beaks make shiver silvery banners 
that the heavens fell without common measure 
for hearts to groan, vain paths trodden

La Blessure – Emmanuel Moiré

I am just one breath from a thousand voices

Geetha B Abandonment, Bodies, Despair, Free verse, Poems, Poesia, Poetry , , , , , , , , 
I am just one breath from a thousand voices
19 November 2023
Courtesy pinterest.com
I am the vestige of a fake sermon
the redeemer of a so-called vermin
the fate of which they will determine
heads or tails, palms would examine

I am a slowly revived olive tree
My gentle farmers rekindle me
their dreams of liquid green honey
set in their dead eyes that no longer see

My fruit hangs on the West Bank
where every corner smells death dank
metal on their heads lands with a clank
they think my keepers they outrank

I am a call for prayer in their lost homes
to Jerusalem, Rome and all those golden domes
The mind of each in inner turmoil roams
as fire every inch of their land combs

I am just one breath from a thousand voices
seeping through clenched teeth’s brittle noises
exhaled from tight chests pressed in dead choices
while inhuman armada in kids’ blood rejoices

Reading of the poem:
Law Of The Thr3e - From womb to tomb

In the heart that moved

Geetha B Abandonment, Abundance, Acceptance, Angels, Authenticity, Balance, Beauty, Compassion, Connections, consciousness, Heart, Heartpath, Hearts, Light, Love, Poems, Poetry, Shadorma, Soul, Time, Vibrations , , , , , , , , , ,

In the heart that moved

31 March 2020

Courtesy pinterest.com

 

Delude me

Canticles of lore

We will pray

Never more

To fears etched within the skies

Downtrodden in lies

 

Elude me

The chest in bosom

I will wake

Griffin’s spark

Fumbling fingers through the dark

Reach the love’s lighthouse

 

Preclude me

Once upon a rhyme

I witnessed

Miracles

Thawing frozen icicles

In the heart that moved

 

Reading of the poem:

Flora Cash – You’re Somebody Else – Lyrics

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bdx5kTFLF4o

Without him

Geetha B Abandonment, Absence, Amore, Amour, Loss, Love, Short stories, Stories, Story , , , , ,

Without him

20 February 2020

Courtesy videohive.com

 

It was a bitter night. The wind was howling outside and she recalled how it had tugged at her hair and the umbrella almost yanking it out of her gloved hands. She had been glad to have gloves on as it was biting cold outside. Her cheeks seared with the acid bite of the cold. The elements raging outside were no match, however, for the cold that was biting into her heart as the days went by without him. She wondered if he was now gone forever or if he would come back like he had done after a period of absence around a year ago.

 

She stretched on the sofa where she had been lying down watching the screen without actually taking in what was going on in the Television set just across the room. She looked at the reed in the canal outside her room and could see it bend wildly this way and that as the wind tore away at its roots attempting to uproot the reed. The wind was, however, no match to the resilient reed which withstood the tear of the wind and just bent gracefully one way or the other depending on the twists and turns of the wind.

 

She felt she should be more like the reed and adapt to the situations as they arose. She should get used to the times when he disappeared however much they hurt. He was anyway like a ghost in her life so she should not expect him to have a normal pattern of behavior. He was gone for longer than the other time but it did not mean that he would not be back again. She felt ice fill her heart as the veracity of his absence sunk into her mind. There was no sunshine when he was not around. Indeed she thought, there was no sunshine without him….

 

Ain’t no sunshine – Eva Cassidy

 

Alice did wondrously land

Geetha B Abandonment, Angels, Birth, Dreamland, Hand, Handler, Heart, Heartbeat, Heartpath, Land, Matter, Neverland, Poetry, Rabbit, Rebirth, Shadorma, Tree, Tree of Life, Uncategorized , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Alice did wondrously land

12 August 2016

Alice deviantart com comes_alice_to_the_wonderland___new_collection_by_wesley_souza-d61n2xh
Courtesy Wesley Souza on deviantart.com

Out of hats

Birthed the best rabbits

To follow

Trees’ hollow

The tumbling an experience

Otherworldly tales

 

The mind fails

When seeking lessons

In solemn

Straight-faced chalk

Classrooms for chicken that baulk

From the screeching hens

 

Lions dens

The cubs profuse meat

Feast to beat

Flesh and blood

Souls carry within the flood

Of the hearts matters

 

Ink splatters

From rooftops that leak

Dead that speak

Through my tongue

Dangling from heavens now wrung

Their bodies my kite

 

Bitter fight

Before birth in light

I let go

The failed care

The threads that tie slowly tear

Balloons now lift off

 

Weak hearts scoff

The mighty forgive

No Malice

In my hand

Alice did wondrously land

In the none sense band

 

Reading of the poem: 

hatter deviantart com alice_and_hatter_wallpaper_by_shaydedxlightning
Courtesy Saydedxlightning on deviantart.com

 

Alice in Wonderland – Vitaliy Zavadskyy

Little Lady in a Large World – Thomas Van Oosting

Alice’s Theme – Danny Elfman

 

Return to the Source

Geetha B Abandonment, Desert, Fields, Leaves, Minorma, Seasons, Uncategorized , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Return to the Source

25 June 2016

heavenlyskies bau

 

I picked daisies

From fields of wild bloom

Setting course on springtime’s kiss

Seasons gone amiss

Weather man’s honey moon

 

Perhaps too soon

Autumn leaves flocked tight

Whirling around summer days

Wayward are the ways

Of seasons of half light

 

Winter spelt ice

In caverns of glass

Winding weaving underpass

Crossing through mountains

Built on the desert sands

 

Leaves joining hands

Pining for the rake

Obedient the waning piles

Counting on the rain

Renewal in the moss

 

Midsummer mind

In between seasons

Looking back at spring’s folly

Under feet quicksand

Looking forth take a toss

 

Check the boxes

Sit back set the course

Stormy weather is the key

Return to the Source

All set for the journey

 

Reading of the poem: 

heavenlyskies plus google com Bojan Jevti-ç _I See you Everywhere_signature_reverse

Shores of your Lies – Leah

Between Two Worlds – Leah

We will go Home – Leah

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6hoyDQ3LeTU

Dénouement

Geetha B Abandonment, Absence, Angels, Beauty, Bilingual poetry, Bonds, Child, Peace, Poetry, Shadorma, Uncategorized , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Dénouement

English translation below (A Alessandro de RISE)

16 janvier 2016

dénouement dailymail co uk
Courtesy dailymail.co.uk

 

Abandon

Ecorchure en mots

Peau qui coule

Diapason

Alignement de mon être

Musique funèbre naître

 

Résistance

Invincible élan

Préserver

Sauvegarder

Obsession de tous les temps

Passé imparfait

 

dénouement pinterest com
Courtesy pinterest.com

 

Les tumultes

Flots de cœur avide

Découvrir

S’investir

Richesse de boyaux limpides

Cristaux pour rivière

 

Abandon

D’autres sens reprennent

Dictionnaire

Réfractaire

Je nage fort contre-courant

Les vagues mon tombeau

 

Dénouement

Une paix retrouvée

Lentement

Communion

Il me tient la main de loin

Traverser l’enfant

 

dénouement lovepanky com
Courtesy lovepanky.com

 

As I realised some of you are kind enough to like my poems in French even though their French is a bit rusty or some just because they like the images and the feel of the poem without understanding much I have resolved whenever I can to put up a translation in English. It is difficult because the French language allows you to hide many more meanings into the same sentence and I find it less possible with the English, especially if one wants to respect the poetry rhythm and requirements. I have attempted to keep the below a Shadorma (in between brackets figures the correct translation of a word that I might have changed a bit to keep the Shadorma syllable count and in one instance I have put up another possible wording where the French word has more than one meaning). Thanks as always for your comments and encouragements 🙂

 

Denouement

(To Alessandro from RISE)

January 16th, 2016

dénouement pinterest com 2
Courtesy pinterest.com

 

Abandoned (Abandonment)

Flaying of the words

Skin flowing

Tuning fork

Alignment of my being

Mourning music born

 

Resistance

Invincible force (momentum)

To preserve

To safeguard

Obsession of all Tenses

Past, the imperfect

 

dénouement 24hoursviral com
Courtesy 24hoursviral.com

 

The tumults

Waves of hungry heart

Discover

To invest

Wealth of my transparent guts

Crystals for river

 

Abandoned (Abandonment)

Other senses sum [meanings] (resume)

Thesaurus

Rebellious

I swim against strong current

The waves are my grave

 

Denouement

A reacquired peace

Very slow

Communion

He holds my hand from afar

Crossing through childhood

 

dénouement illuminatingsouls com
Courtesy illuminatingsouls.com

 

Alain Souchon – Les regrets (Clip officiel)

Mylène Farmer & Jean-Louis Murat – Regrets (Clip Officiel)

Il divo & Celine Dion – I believe in you

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ce8HZ2keKwk