29. Distance: Neha to Me

It feels strange to get attached to someone you have never seen or met. How many of you think that online relationships are absurd? Isn't it the most rubbish form of relationship that ever exists? I did think so too, until I met Guria.

We have mentioned this time and again about how we met. This very virtual world of blogging that introduced me to her who has become a part of me today. Until then, for me, the funda of getting really close to someone you know through chat rooms or blogs was nothing but foolish. I raised my eyebrows, sighed and called people foolish who ever mentioned that they met online. But after G entered into my real world virtually, I had to eat my own words.

From e-mails to facebook comments, from pokes to smses and from chat to phone calls - our friendship has grown with each passing day and each passing moment. We have had our share of happiness as well as sadness, taking attacks as well as fighting for each other, protecting and making the other strong during those weak moments, and always emerge as the surviving duo in the toughest situation.

She is more than a soul sister to me. We are literally in east-west corners of the country we live in; but that was somehow not a "distance" I was worried about. I could call her whenever I wanted to, thanks to our more or less similar timeline.

But things are going to be different now. She will be in a different city, different country, different continent and different timeline. Well, I will still be able to call her anytime I want to, but the "distance" will be widened now. The distance will be almost impossible for me to cover to reach her. But I know she will still be there for me whenever I need her, unconditionally, always, like she has always been. She will still be able to make out from my voice that I am sad or confused and she will still be as happy for me as I am for her in all her triumphs.

Love you girl.

Don't publish this. It is meant only for you. My state of mind is not helping me to write what I want to write. But I know that you know what I think about you right? :)

---

From Neha to Me on 15th August 2010.

I love you back, girl.

২৮. চিকাগোএ তুমি

তোমার কথা খুব মনে পড়ে | কখন মনে হয় তুমি অনেক দূরে, আবার কখন খুব কাছে | আসলে তুমি আমার কাছেই আছো তবে কখন বড্ড বেশী দেখতে ইচ্ছে করে |

তুমি ভালো আছো তো? আমি ভালো | তোমার কাছে যাব চিকাগো-তে | জানি কলকাতাতে  বাবা-মা সব্বাই কে রেখে যাব তবু তোমার কাছে থাকতে বড্ড ইচ্ছে করে |

তারপর তুমি-আমি তো এসবই ফিরে আমাদের মা-বাবার কাচ্ছে, তাই না? 

কিন্তু তুমি যে আমার সঙ্গী তোমায় ছাড়া পারি কি করে বলো?

ভীষণ ভালোবাসি তোমায় | তোমার কথা সত্যি খুব মনে পড়ে, আর তোমার কাছে যেতে ইচ্ছে করে সমুদ্র পাড়ি দিয়ে.... 

27. 20

Has there been this conflict ever?

I have never lived 20 days that have been so agonizingly long and so excruciatingly short.

Home is where you are. But this is home, too.

For once I can't want, won't want, how can you when it's either-or?

26. It is here

He leaves for Chicago today.
The 20 days in between seem infinite.
Seeking solace thinking at least we will be on the same landmass, the same country!
But is it the same... No, not at all!
It's all in the mind, I know but how well it is ensnared in it! Amazing!

I can't wait to be near you, as near as it is possible. Then I can't wait to be with you. And even then, I can't wait to be yours!!

Funny isn't it, you think you can be happy with a small thing, and when you get that in your hands, you want another small thing... So, I'll skip all the steps in between and want us together... something that you and I, both want.

I love you, darling... Have a safe trip, take care and be happy. I am just behind you while always being with you...
Live, my heart.... and the world will be at your, our feet... Live, really really live!
I love you so, soo much!

25. It's Just Another Day For You

How many times do we have just another day?

Daily chores, old habits, monotonous tasks, forgotten jobs, procrastinated regrets, bitter minds, irritated mood, wake the mornings, sleep the nights, meals in between, for another tomorrow, another 'just another day'....

Whilst someone somewhere turns his life upside down...

And someone cries her heart out....

Someone gets tied in knots, speechless for lack of words....

A lack of words for words that were never expressed, a lack of words for the surge of feelings that were never defined....

A brave, unwavering smile that collapses just when you get out of sight, eyes that burn to see your sad smile, tears that are courageous so as not to fall before you, giant words that are empty but hold the world straight...

Yeah, we are stupid, we are fools, miss the fleeting, the flight of time... 

Indeed, we are fools, living life in moments, moments of happiness, pain and love...

Can't wait for the time to pass, and then will suddenly want to rewind...

Oh, we are fools alright, fools in life, fools in love....

And oh so foolish, to be happy being a fool!

Oh, it's just another day for you....

For me? I wish I could tell....

No, I am not sad, I just don't know what I am.... 
Not today....

A 'just another day', a day like no other before...

---

24. Helpless

Have you ever felt the urge to bash some one's head in and the feelings churning inside you, turbulent yet that you can do nothing about and just watch impotently as the person you love gets hurt time after time?

Have you ever felt the need to avenge, to protect... and the need of it a boiling rage inside that would destroy you if you didn't act upon it. As if your love becomes a failure when you fail to protect, have nothing to do, can do nothing, it's your position to do nothing!

To hell with logic, rationalism, reason, I feel like hitting out, hitting hard but all the while knowing I can't do a damn effing thing about it!

It hurts when the person you love is hurt. It hurts worse when you can only watch from afar and cannot do one damn single thing.

I would have cried, shed tear after tear, if I could have relieved you of your pain. But I won't because you have to be brave. And I can make sure, you don't have to be brave alone, right?

I am right here, helpless and futile, but I am still here in any way that you need me.

Love you. Loads. Your pain is mine.

23. The Most Special Gift

My anger and my hurt, resulting from an idle mind, mostly are always directed towards the individuals I love. Them, who will listen to me rant and rage without so much as a tweep, but even they burst out sometimes, their patience cannot hold out against my pathetic outlet all the time.

This happened after a weekend when T went with his friends to a symposium in another state, to a renowned beach, which was a great excuse for them to be entertaining the occasional addictions the men manage to cultivate. However much I try not to be "the nagging wife", I am a woman with a woman's instincts and feel for things, and however much ever I may loathe reacting emotionally about it, I do, sometimes.

The bone of contention was the increased frequency of these occasional rendezvous. I will put my foot down when it starts getting out of hand, and not after it already has. And as much as a man needs mothering all his life, he really detests the word itself.

A fight ensued. And against his quiet, reserved and unbending will, I shouted in a not-so reserved manner.

Contrition comes to me fast, as I am not one who is happy shouting. Realization, though late, also makes its way into my hard head eventually.

I almost let him go away on his five-day trip with us angry with each other. With me angry with him. I didn't apologize. It wasn't as if we didn't talk to each other but I made sure he knew I was upset with him, especially knowing that, that it hurt him. I am not proud of what I did, wasn't then. I would confess to being conniving and hurtful, but in my poor, lame defense I can only say, I did it for him. If my hurt would transform into him refraining.

But if men don't understand women, women also don't always do a great job of understanding men.

I missed him when he was not with me.

He had his share of fun. We share. He told me of all that had transpired, filmy fights, broken bones, rough sea, bathing escapades, upset stomachs and knowing me, he only skimmed over the drunk and high nights, to which at least, I was matured enough not to harp on or show my blatant disapproval in the most roundabout manner.

And the issue was forgotten. (A simple thing becomes serious, only when you let it)

I was still angry at him, hurt because did I matter so less? Typical woman, isn't it?

I met him almost a week after he came back, both of us caught up in our respective jobs, from morning till night. We had a great time.

As we were about to leave, he pressed into my hand something misshapen, wrapped in plain white paper, tied with a rubber band, hardly two inches long and one inch wide. He smiled and told me to open it only when I got home, for him please? He knows how curious I can be. And with the instruction, don't squeeze it, a'right?

And I unwrapped it, the first thing I did when I got back home,

And in my palm lay the sea-shells.

"Have a great time, and travel safe! See if you remember to call me!"

"Guria!!"

"Okay, okay, try and call me! In all excitement, don't forget me, a'rite!"

"Guria, stop being ridiculous."

"Don't do those dratted things.... please!"

"I dunno... I might."

"You really don't care about me, do you?!!"

"How is that one thing related to the other?"

"I can't ask you not to indulge. You will never listen to me. You just don't give a damn about me."

"It's a guys' trip, Guria... one weekend doesn't make any of us an addict. And stop equating everything to what you are to me. Anyway, you know I'm going because I have never gone there before and it was you who told me that it is wonderful."

"That's my favourite beach in the world. Last time I had gone, hmm, can't even remember when, long back... when we were not jumping in the sea, I used to have the best time collecting sea-shells... If you can't really listen to me, at least do me a favour, don't go into the sea drunk, okay?"

"Guria...!!"

Those sea-shells are the best gift I ever got.

I stared at them for a long time, my hands were shivering with guilt. And with love and the happiness seeping through, as I remembered.

With those precious little sea-shells in my hand, I cried.

22. His Best Man

There are two actually.

Meeting them, separately for the first time was almost as worse as meeting the in-laws. Oh, and I haven't actually met the in-laws in the official capacity which is probably because in our society, we meet "officially" at a max of a year to six months before the actual marriage, and we are to get married not in the next four years!

But best friends are a different matter altogether. Their stamp of approval is needed at the inception, more than the parents'. Or so I believe.

Now I am a very gregarious, extrovert, out-spoken, out-going, witty... blogger. Only. Meet me in real life, you will have to twist me for words. I am shy, an introvert, seemingly cannot string two words together and yeah, dumb too! Especially when meeting new people I lose my tongue and become a witless scatter-brain.

So imagine my state when I was to meet each of his best men. Anticipating meeting his friends was an ordeal, and I was visibly nervous before both the meetings.

My observations, once when I used to The Cynic, were my only tools in approaching the impending disaster it was bound to be.

Firstly, though of course, you will tell me otherwise, I don't consider myself remotely beautiful or even, pretty. First strike against me, as I felt, a good-looker goes a long way in befuddling a man's brain long enough to hinder him in looking beyond the superficial. No one's fault, it is just the way it is.

Secondly, befuddling the brain wearing skimpy dresses don't work. Because when the best friend feels the blood draining out of his brain, that is strike two, as this is not the girl he is going to allow his friend to be with. For leisure, or a week, that's more than fine but a lifetime, no way!! Men are strange that way.

Thirdly, I just detest being put on show, to be judged: nice, good, sexy or merely passable!

But I was newly in love. I hadn't thought much of it.

And my subconscious was busy struggling with another set of problems.

Boys, the ones especially friends for a long time, tend to begrudge the time their newly engaged friend spends with his girlfriend. This is something that I haven't really seen among girls but among the younger guys, it is very rampant. And after some time, the more serious the relationship, or more loyal or doting (are those the words?) the guy is, the worse are the reactions of the friends.

So it was like me facing the gallows, waiting for the judge to bang on his gavel!

But the funny thing that happened was, the love those two guys have for T, okay okay not love, he glares at me I use the word 'love' ("We do not love each other...Men don't love other men!" accompanied by rolling eyes)... So, what happened was the bond that they share, the friendship or whatever you call it (I still call it 'love', being a woman I have no problem with copious usage of any L-word) was extended to me without an extra thought. They cared for me because their best friend did, because he was in love with me, and that was enough for them. And not for a single moment did they judge me. They liked me even before they'd met me, and meeting me strictly was just that, meeting me. No judgement, no verdicts nothing.

By being in love with a wonderful man, got me friends too, ones for life.

And when I bared all to him, he was taken aback, "So, what's the big deal? You expected, what?" Of course, I realised, he didn't know what privilege and honour his best friends had bestowed on him, on me, because he would have done the same. That's why they were best friends.

And it is hard to keep on being a Cynic, when you cannot apply your cynicism.

Today, I am best buddies with both the crackpots!

One of them is a computer geek and a composer-guitarist and the other a football fanatic and a bizwhiz... One of them is totally opposite to T, and hence just like me, the other was the one who introduced blogs and Blogger to me, and was my first reader too. Both are as crazy- one madly, one philosophically- as me, and as brilliant too.

And the real thing is, they are no more just Ts but are My Best Men, too.

(Erm, I think they might be a bit disagreeable about the term "Maid of Honour")

21. Does Crying Make You Weak?

Are there only black and white,

And never any shades of grey?

Or is it just me who never can be right?

Or is it me, hard-headed and thick,

Who hurts the one who means everything?

Hurts the one who means the most?

And gets then hurt, wounded, bruised too.

I think I am no good-

Or may be just not enough...

Trying to be perfect and true

Losing it all, like the spin of a wheel

Am I pathetic or just undeserving?

Or is it just not meant to be me,

The harder I try, the deeper I fall

Into a crevice that's all my fault?

I want the most, I want the best

But it never falls in with the rest...

I keep trying, and I keep trying

But at the end of the day, I wonder,

Am I not enough the way I am?

---

P.S. When you hurt and he hurts, you cannot make it go anywhere but inwards. It is love. Painful, foolish but love. When the words come and purges your soul... And of course, then is when you discover how stupid your wayward thoughts are. :)

20. Locked

You could feel the heart stutter,
Stop, and beat into a flutter
The tentative brush anticipating, cautious
The heat spreading all over and across,
Just the moment before
The instincts take over.
The eyes close, lashes whisper against the skin,
Feeling surges, undefined, uncontrolled,
Sensation after another crashing through-
An unknown, a stranger but a bliss
There's a Freedom the touches bring,
Being Locked in a Kiss...

---

19. Things to Do

Make a checklist.
Tick them off.
Go shopping.
Dump them in bags.
Pack. Pack, pack!


Where are the papers?
Where's the cash?
Take 'em, take 'em.
All documents
Rolled up and stashed.


Busy to and fro,
Meeting last minutes,
Arranging, rummaging,
Nothing forgotten,
All done.


And I am ready to go.


Then the furor
Comes to standstill.
And I see,
The time is gone
Without telling me.


And I forget to say,
Whatever I am
Is because of You.
I love You. I love you.
Before I fly away.

18. Five Things

Peace
Happiness
Health
Family
Love


Success? All of the above.


Wonder? You.


Perfect.

17. Love & Friends

To Neha...

I was newly in love with a girl who was scared of the mirror.

A traveller in search for the true meaning of life, I never knew that life was waiting for me right at home.

She was married. And she was happily married. And not to me. But I couldn't regret that.

Her happiness was evident in the deep dimples on her cheeks that never showed signs of relenting. Her smile would come fast and suddenly, like the sudden bright rays of the sun peeking from behind heavy clouds, and dissipating all gloom. Her smile had that power of illuminating my existence, robbing me of all my despair and grief, and my senses too.

But she never really saw herself in the mirror. She could never understand what I saw in her. Every time she stood before that silvered glass, all she'd see was a thin and lanky girl, with nothing attractive whatsoever, no talents, no looks, nothing.

And I would gape in awe. Sometimes. At other times, I would burst out in anger.

How could she not see what she really was. A brave, beautiful and insightful woman. How easily frustrated she could make me with her denials about herself. And I would become angrier for I couldn't show her, what she really was, how I beheld her! How I wished I could let her see herself through my eyes. She would never believe that she was beautiful, that I honestly thought so. She didn't like being praised, she didn't like being told that she was the light of my life. But she knew I loved her and that's all she would ever accept from me.

The mystery of it all was that she loved me too. Almost as much as she loved her husband. I knew that. But still it was different. There was something spiritual, almost primal in our strange love story. She couldn't do without me, like I couldn't do without her. But there was a difference.

A stark difference in that, that we had never seen each other.

Were we just a figment of our each others' imaginations? Or did we really exist?

Even if we didn't, our love did. I know it did. It was written in every word uttered, in every word that spilled out from our hearts. It was there in the mornings when we found solace in each other. It was there in the outraged anger at the injustice towards the other. It was bright in the words we left for the world to see. It was there in how it was us or neither. It was there when we took every single stride together. Her excitement in my achievement, my happiness in hers. Her pride in how I would change the world and my secret pride in how she made the world beautiful. Our co-ordinated actions through out the day, missing the other madly. Our loved shined in every moment that we spent together and away from each other.

But I was a mere human in love with a Goddess, I had my moments of failings too, moments that tarnished the purity of our love. Moments of viciousness, of a murderous intent. Why didn't I know her first?!

And moments of weakness, when I turned away from her in my life. I didn't love any other as much, but I needed to be consoled, to heal when my love was with her husband. And I capitulated always, out of anger, bitterness and jealousy, and a want for what I didn't have. Missing her was a pain that made me too human. The thought of disappointing her, losing her was a raging fire within. And all impossible to bear!

But she was always there. In my mind, my heart, my soul. This strange world didn't exist without her.

But I could never have her. And not because she was in love with her husband. There was a much graver problem. An unscalable one. Us. What we were.

---

From Neha....

She was an ordinary girl; living in her own world. There was nothing special about her whatsoever.


She never cared about the mirror that reflected her thin and lanky figure. That glass failed to show her inner simplicity hidden inside her flesh. She knew that beauty cannot be seen ever. It is something to be felt; something to be experienced; the feeling of feeling special was the real beauty.


Her life revolved around her husband. She felt beautiful in his presence; he made her feel so. Nothing else mattered. For her, this was love; this was the only form of sacred love existed between two people not related to each other; until she received that letter from someone who was just a friend then. It was a letter that reflected the heart and soul of the writer. The words were simple; yet they touched her deep inside. She felt as if the writer was talking to her in person; each word came alive when she read further; each word was like a music playing all along; emotions played in her heart like ocean waves on a stormy night; like desert sand that flew in the air after an ostrich ran for oasis; so intense yet so soothing; she felt for the first time that she had met her inner self.


She was in love yet again; love that was spiritual and primal; love that made her complete in its own sense; yet the feeling of being complete inside made her feel incomplete outside; as she had never met her love. She didn’t know how her love looked like. But it didn’t matter; for she knew her inner self was much more beautiful than her. She was in love with someone else too; she realized this relationship was as sacred as the one with her husband; yet it was different. She was in love with another lady. Not for her physical beauty or inner strength; but for what she is. How well they knew each other; how well they understood each other; so far yet in each other’s heart; so strange yet so divine.


She needed her when she was very happy, she was her need when the world turned against her; she needed her when she felt weak after taking those attacks, she needed her when she needed her inner self. She felt happy at her achievements like they were hers, she felt sad when somebody hurt her; how she wanted to get back to those then. She felt jealous when her love turned to another lady; she wished her love understood she had certain duties; duties she had to fulfill; duties towards her husband. But those duties never made their bond weak; she was not weak; nor could she see her love becoming weak and going to someone else.


Her love was special and most beautiful; she was the one who made that thin and lanky girl feel special with her presence. She was the mirror that showed one’s inner self.


They could not have each other for what they were. But did it really matter? They were one; nobody could separate one’s inner self from anybody…


PS: G, this is not even close to what you wrote about us; so don't be disappointed after reading this..

16. For G, With love :) [Neha's to Me]

Dearest G,

You know I love you right? :)

I so wanted to do something really very special for you; something that would convey what you mean to me. But I guess you already know that. I had to literally murder my desire to make you feel on top of the world; as that would have embarrassed you to the core and spoiled your entire day (well, almost). Sigh!

I even thought of writing a post for you and publish it where nobody can see or read it; but again, didn’t know what to write. There is nothing that you don’t know.

Why am I sounding so boring and old? But I don’t know what else to write or say ‘cos you know everything already. And I do want to write something for you, as this is the only way I can convey my wishes to you. Not that I cannot speak with you, but the shy you and shy me are usually at our leg pulling and (honest) buttering best over the phone.

You know what I miss discussing the most? I miss discussing our conversations that we could have had if we were together at the same place. I miss calling us a crazy duo in person. I sometimes hate this distance so much, as it makes me realize that you are not reachable. I hate this helplessness. There are times when I just want to dial your number and shout out my frustration, but I restrain thinking I disturb you all the time.

You know there was this period when TM had got a call and you hadn’t; and you were trying your level best to put up that mask of bravado on your face, but could hide the anxiety from your voice. I could feel you getting more and more nervous and disheartened by each passing moment. You and I knew that you would for sure get a call; but the path between belief and assurance was wider, longer and more difficult than we had anticipated.

When you updated your status one evening saying “okay, it is yet to sink in” and I knew you had got through! I was as happy, if not more, as you. But at that time; one more thought started disturbing me from within – the thought of you going even more away from me. Now at least I can call and speak with you whenever I want; but the stupid me thinks that I will lose you :P I mean, the distance will be widened even more na. But I am happy for you at the same time :)

You know, I love those pokes from you, I love those chats with you, I love to sms you even the smallest of the detail, I hate it when somebody does something to hurt you intentionally or unintentionally; but how I want to get back to them for this, how I want to slap them for that and how I want to hug you and secure you and protect you.

I don’t know whether this is all for real or not; but I know one thing for sure – I really love you the way you are and for what you are. Though you will be really really far from me; but remember I am just a call away. Love ya loads ♥

Wish you once again a very happy birthday :)

PS: I lost the flow of this one completely. So it will run here and there when you read it; hope you will forgive me for this one :P

15. Tears and Smiles

I would have cried if I could, 
Cleansing tears and bottomless joys... 

But instead I smile 
And keep all bottled inside.
The tear from the left eye,
And the tear from the right-
Am I just sad, or happily alive?
You have seen me teary-eyes,
And in the jumping-with-joy kind-
Such I haven't known me
But do you still love me?
Am I despicable, or just ignored
When I betray me hapless, utter weakness?
The weakness was my weakness,
When I could not stem the tears,
Smiles wavered and broke into fears
When the dams didn't hold,
Before your eyes it would unfold-
I cry. I cry. I cry.
Bewildered, it was later,
When in your arms was I cradled,
I am not less, I am more,
Because I can feel
Because I can be
Because I am me.
Because it was you.




P.S. Confusing truth. Liberating confusion. Cherished Liberty.

14. An Old Story [Dated: 9th April 2009]

My first impulse was to write about these last days in my Masters, of being a student, of doing classes in a classroom. But I never have been good in being sad... and given the instances of the love lost between us fellow classmates... i don't even have the urge to write about it now. I will write someday and here only but not yet... let time and age first dull away the few poor and bitter memories... right now i'm sufferin' from hell of a hangover!

Right now i'm not sad about sayin' goodbye to all the (selective) wonderful people (close friends or not... sometimes the latter is better, especially if one tends to be gullible!) i've come across in my Department or our cherished Canteen (both of which really feels like home away from home!) because i know wherever we may be letting off, we'd be parting with all good thoughts and the wish in heart, that somehow or the other we'll be in touch... because i'd know, if we chance across each other some-far-away-day, by a road, we'll know each other and smile, talk and remember... because i believe we'll remember each one of us, no matter who we are, where we are and what we are...

Some hopes never change, you'll think with that matured and practical mind of yours, that childish dream which maybe even you had envisioned while leavin' school or college and know to be a thing that never comes true... but i do dream about that perfect world, and hope... (Don't tell me to grow up... being practical and rational is not one of my favourite things!)

Anyways, being maudlin is neither my style nor am i comfortable with it. Being happy, to me is my birth right... and i agree to duel anyone who says otherwise (verbal sparrin' only, please). It's my life and i refuse to spend it being despondent.

CAUTION: From here on this has progressively become more personal... if you have any qualms or have any tendency to be queasy over mushy stuff, take a U-turn... Keep off!!!

But then there goes my bluster... even i get so down sometimes that i cannot bear the weight of it. Then maybe it's because the experience is very new... for i never knew that love can be such that even the prospect of being away from the one feels like, like something's tearing and clawing at you from within, it's like being burned, scorched, only the wound doesn't show and there's no relief from the agony, for it's in the core of you, in the very essence of you!

I won't be upset, i won't be cryin', what is a year in a whole lifetime? There's the phone, Internet and what not, so what's the fuss! I will be talking to you on the phone, over the web cam, able to see you on my screen, hear your voice and...... i will want... i'll want to cross continents, to touch your face, that faint dimple on your cheek, the crinkles at the corner of your eyes when you smile... i will be wishin' for your arms to be around me, protecting me, sheltering me and loving me... A year will be gone in a blink of an eye and there we'll be, right next to each other in person. But i wonder, what will i do in that blink of an eye, in that moment... it's always your face i see beneath the closed eyelids, and crave to touch... And that moment will be longest of my life, if i can live through that, i'll live through anything. Sayin' soothin', big words are part of my attitude but whatever i say, all the platitudes are just that - platitudes... but please believe them, at least pretend to... those are more for my benefit than yours, love...

Hey, do you know what is the most important thing to me, love? You know what it is... (and no guys, you didn't guess right...) but the fact of the matter is i will fight away all of these, 'cause i know you hurt as much as i do, and i'd hate for you to hurt more thinkin' i'm sad (it is the same for me, too). So, no better incentive for me to stop here right now... but then you know, however glum i may become, i am happy for i have you. And since you are smiling as you read and yet feelin' that inexplicable sadness creep over you... let me get rid of the latter... honey, i am here for keeps, this naggin' "part" of your life is here to stay... and just a year and no more, i'm not gonna' give you that much space, hon'!!!

P.S. I didn't write this to make you sad, but just needed to. I'm going to delete this post anyway. I won't ever say it won't be hard being away from each other, but it's way better than not havin' what we found and have. And then don't at all be sad, after all what's just a year in a lifetime, our lifetime!!!

Be with me, love, G. (I can be brave, you know)

P.P.S. A story unfinished. Plans changed. Some knew, read these words, words of my hart, understood my pain. Today we are going to be together in our journey except that one month stretching over miles. A year to a month, not too bad. Even in different cities, being near you on the same continent, I will settle for that. For now. (29th June 2010)

13. A Month From Today

I promised I won't cry. Of course, I won't. 
What's a few days in a lifetime?

But seeing you on the hard, glowing surface, 
What will I do when I want to touch you? 

Reach out and brush my fingertips...

Only to meet the hardness, unwanted.

What shall I do, when the urge builds

To gather you in my arms, and not let go?

Every moment spent away from you, wasted

Every moment built towards when I'll next hear your voice

Every moment passed brings nearer the continents between us

On another side of the world, you will be

Me joining you there seems so far

Of course I won't cry, What's there to cry?

But what shall I do, when I miss you?

When I yearn for you?

When I need you here?

Over-reaction you'll say. I think so too.

But tell that to my heart, that never listens to my mind

Keeps feeling what need not be felt.

I know the logic, the practical of life.

But I never understand how to be away from you, and survive.

P.S. Words flow when it's about you. But never are enough for what is in me. Just wondering and thinking about today and the date, a month from now. 

12. Little Thoughts

It is so easy when it is you I am talking about. The thorns don't disappear, but the fragrance of the roses remain, vivid and real as I walk along the path, no more bare-footed but shielded against the harshness of the some-broken but paved path. Life is so much more fun when I have you as my witness to all my trials and tribulations, joys and happiness, success and revelations.

I have never been in love before. But it is as if I have always loved you.

You make me feel like I can fly...

Some old lines penned so casually, but felt so deep within...........

Crude yet simple
No complications, no strife
A new page, a new leaf
A newly discovered life...
~
A little of a lot

Or a lot of a little

Wanting never ceases

Nor the need goes

Can feel the shivers spreading

From my heart to my toes...

~

My mind barely agrees

The heart rarely relents

But they never argue

When I dream about you...

~

I dream with closed eyes

I fantasize with them open

And you didn't reach them

But surpassed, and deepen...

With Love.

11. Either-Or?

People and their idiosyncrasies. Some have really passed the point where they can just be excused as the eccentricities of the different.

An individual cannot have a favourite sport if his nation (country of citizenship, rarely of birth, after all the latter is something we are always trying to live down) doesn't participate in it. To hell, with rest of the world.


And of course, just because you're following the other sport, it is understood that you are unaware of the glory that your nation brings you. You just cannot if you enjoy a sport in which your nation doesn't participate. Didn't you know, your attention and information span doesn't even cover the range of a teaspoon?

Then, you cannot laud your favourite sport without demeaning another just because the one that is your favourite has been (for now or always had been) overshadowed by the other sport! So snub the others who don't share your favourite. Otherwise how else will your choice gain prominence over others?

It always comes down to comparisons and a case of either-or, so challenged we are in our outlooks that we do not understand that there is room for more than one interest in our lives. And of course, another person doesn't come and agree with us, we have to challenge them, we are nothing on our own. Always seeking approval for what we like, what we believe, what we are (?)... Do they even understand how their own mindsets come across?

What will it take to broaden the outlook? To understand the sun doesn't rise and set with your choices or ideas... What will it take to understand that it is not about right/wrong or either/or but there can be so many combinations of individuals other than the high-and-mighty you?

10. After-Before

Why do all the Women (heroines) in Indian serials (and movies) after getting married (fighting a losing battle, trudging across so many tribulations) always change into an entire different persona than before?

Why do they have to give up on the jeans and the trousers, and kurtas and tops always to start wearing only the sarees, in the most traditional way, in the most traditional look as if   given that, no one doubts the authenticity or the integrity of the bahu?

Is it that, with big words spouting of our mouths, we haven't really changed an iota in our outlook towards the women of our society? Are we no better than before? Do the "dress-codes" still make us judge the women accordingly? Is there still no freedom? Is it a true reflection of our own attitude towards the brides and daughters-in-law?

9. Cruel

Cruel, cries the Mind
As it struggles with the pain,
Inflicted so mercilessly,
Thinks the Mind,
In its moment of respite
In mindless bitter gain.
The Body screams in protest,
When the mind bends again
Cruel, it cries in agony
And succumbs as well,
Locked bodily in its hell.
The Heart was resilient,
So it was just a whisper-
Cruel, the Heart says
Just with a trace
Of its breaking faith-
A breaking heart-
Just before it splinters
Into a thousand shards!
But the Soul remained silent,
Unmoving, yet vigilant
A soft murmur, an utter 
Against the wind,
I understand, it says
And I forgive your sin.
You can hurt my brothers,
But never touch their soul

Cruel, you may be-

But I have my peace

We will have our escape

For you, there won't be any.

Cruel, it said sadly

As it flew yonder away.

8. Mom

I could say I love you. A word about what you mean to me. Paragraphs of how you are my miracle. For you, your support, your sustenance, your persistence... Your dreams for me, your faith in me, your hope in me. What you helped me be. What you let me choose for me. For me. For the world.... You, you and you... How could go on for eons and still never succed to expressing what you are, how I behold. 

Yes, I could say I love you, that you are my blessing, my miracle, my God.

But I'd rather show you.

7. Would you?

Would you gloat if you knew I am susceptible, vulnerable?

Would you hit knowing that I would never have the guts to hit back?

Would you shout and wail, manipulate and ask straight to give up and surrender all that I collected over my life, if you knew that I would hold nothing back?

Would you want every drop of my blood, every water particle to escape as sweat, every breath till it came no more, when I'd give them up, all for your taking/

Would you stop if I called out to you?

Would you let me run just because I needed to run away?

Would you just forget, if I died?

Would you bask in glee, be cruel and merciless, if you knew that I have fallen, fallen beyond realms of gather, that I have fallen in the trap of deceit laid by my tormentor?

I would.

N.B. Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic.

6. Blind

I am blind to the world.

I am blind to the light.

I am blind to humankind,

With passion glowing abright.

There's a darkness alive

Resentful and stubborn,

Wanting the light more

Than it could let borne.

Shying away in anonymity

Shunning away, away from pity,

Travels through lone corners

And lanes turned gritty-

It stays blind and unseeing,

Rude, scared and mulishly unfeeling.

5. Blind

My world is perfect. There is no gap, no tear, no discontinuity. It is the most perfect thing that can be. My world is black.

4. Grateful

Begin your day by feeling grateful. Be grateful for the bed you just slept in, the roof over your head, the carpet or floor under your feet, the running water, the soap, your shower, your toothbrush, your clothes, your shoes, the refrigerator that keeps your food cold, the car that you drive, your job, your friends. Be grateful for the stores that make it so easy to buy the things you need, the restaurants, the utilities, services, and electrical appliances that make your life effortless. Be grateful for the magazines and the books that you read. Be grateful for the chair that you sit on, and the pavement that you walk on. Be grateful for the weather, the sun, the sky, the birds, the trees, the grass, the rain, and the flowers.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

May the joy be with you....

3. Capricious

I'm more dark than what seems. I bring light into lives only to hide the darkness I hold behind my back. You couldn't fight me, because I turn your biggest demon, I'm what you are scared of. I am happiness. And if I am here, the darkness couldn't be far. 

You don't know to be happy without me. You need me to cross your path and say, "I'm here." And even then, your baffled stare never wavers till you blink and break out into that tentative, doubting smile.I will be there, but never do I have you full faith or attention. I can always see the darkness behind me in your mind, thinking. The fickle me.

Funny thing is, I don't choose to be there. Only you can bring me in you, only you have the power to dispel all the darkness and yet, you think it's the whimsical, restless me who is flitting about and away.

And I think, it is the fickle You.