You And Me – How Can You Forget


What We Were To Each Other?

never mind. it is a rhetorical question anyway.

Rant alert. Rambling thoughts.

We had different needs, our lives were too separate. Too far away. And you kept stretching the distance like cheese from the pizza.

We were pretty much on the opposite side of everything but we met, love happened, or so I thought. So many things feel like love and we are so often and so easily fooled. I just wanted a shelter, a sustenance, while you were looking for haute cuisine and a pleasant home. ASnd then one day you fell out of whatever it was you felt, dusted off, got up and walked away. we meant different things to each other. our needs were different.

I lost myself in words and images I conjured in my mind, forever torn between the lover as you were and the lover I had created in my head and in that process somewhere I lost you. I noticed the slow decline from being everything to being no one. Saw every single act of dismissal but I stayed. I wanted to. Just as i wanted to believe everything you said.

It is what it is. You, my dear, are too much to forget.

I will turn fifty in a few years. More than half my life is over. I want to  travel before my stressed out body gives away. I want to go back to places I imagined us going to. I want your memory. I want to take you there with me. Carry you in my heart. I also want to stop being a sad, sorry fuck that I am and be what I would have been if we were together.

A time to shed what’s not me. Time to move on, move away from people who pretend to care and understand but actually wish me dead. Tough luck. I wasn’t born to be ruled by others. If some people did, it is because I allowed or because I was caught in the web of circumstances beyond my control.

While I am ranting, let me also say that natal homes are most often not the safe sanctuary one thinks they are. This thought is pressing hard on my jugular.

Gratitude too is a form of love. I am grateful for your presence , imaginary or otherwise. Grateful for love, for being the wind beneath my wings. Somewhere you changed direction and I plunged into nothingness, picked myself again and now I am drifting aimlessly. My wings are tired and I can not even fold them and rest for a while.

I rant too much. Blame it on the Hormones. Times are a changing and your memory, it comes at most impossible times. Peri-menopause does that. It screws up your mind and body. I was sure I was going crazy, unable to decipher what was causing the hot flushes, night sweats, sleeplessness, mood swings, anxiety attacks, meltdowns, palpitations and not to forget the intense desire to strip off all my clothes at any given time… Was it the aftermath of losing you or were the hormones going wacko. Jeez, it is hard to go through a heartbreak when you are dealing with midlife crisis. Cold showers, by the way, came handy in both cases but it is still too much to deal.

I would reach for anything within reach that would comfort me. Alcohol, comfort food esp sweets, books, cigarettes.. anything that would cocoon me and keep me safe from the world that had suddenly become so unbearable. But now, I am going to get my sexy mojo back by turning menopause into menopower and I will make the memories of love to make me strong. Love that I felt for you. I am going to fill that You-shaped hole in me with something good and I will wait.

My love for you was wild and reckless, strong and rebellious, painful and desperate, untamed and hungry, It was needy. I was needy. I was hungry. and for me even the less was more. You were needy too but our needs were different as i said earlier. You fed me love with your fingers and then one day you left, and now I know what it is to starve. But you know what, love stays longer, endures more. Lust doesn’t. It doesn’t give anything except a momentary high.

“Loving you was like going to war. I never came back the same.” ~ warsan shire

but I will take those wounds any day.

Seeing you in the flesh, touching you, kissing your mouth, letting you kiss my mouth, surrendering to love, to lust, to the moment that brought us together was the bravest thing I ever attempted and the weakest I ever felt and now my body is like a haunted house that is never owned. A house that is sometimes lived in but mostly abandoned. It is an archive of fingerprints and scars that throb. It is filled with a lingering odour of love, sex and spices.

I am walking through a fog but I trust my instincts and I will make it through the frenzy of emotional whirlpools I am facing now.

If you think this post is not going anywhere, it is true. It is a floe, forever drifting like me.

My boy thinks I need to “chill”, that old age crept on me long ago and I am living in denial. My foot. what does he know.

So I will put a frozen teabag in my vagina (before you get ideas, it is for medical purposes. Sorry to disappoint.), have a hot mug of coffee or  go indulge in the finest wine or anything I fancy from a brain hemorrhage shot to a manga, get a short spunky hair cut that doesn’t need too much looking after.. (going bald is still a recurring thought), eat healthy while keeping my cravings satisfied, change the wardrobe (bring in some colour), and most importantly NOT GIVE A FUCK. Till now I was only writing and not believing but I guess it is time to change that.

Hormones can rage, your ever-present missingness can run havoc, financial trickling can continue, and people can snoop and stalk my blog for whatever they are looking for(you know who you are and I know it too) because I am going to live my life as I want. I am done with naysayers and f*tards that drained me of belief in myself. Go find your entertainment elsewhere.

Of course i miss you and I love you. Trust me, you do not want to feel what I feel. It is not easy task to go from halo to a broomstick in a jiffy. Don’t even try. Just understand.

this will keep me on a roller coaster

But

I will rock the change. I will flow.

And

I hope one day

you will find yourself and in turn find me.

If only
one fingertip
of a touch
could make
you real.
If Only ….

till then….

I will just come here and vent.

Better out than in.

Good things are happening in my writing world . Will share soon. 🙂

Empty Spaces, Inky Nights and a Sound Cave


This is just a collection of thoughts triggered by a fabulous photograph of an empty walkway, a message exchange of thoughts on the beauty of sunsets and nights, an emotionally charged lash-out from someone right in the morning and a gloomy rain filled day.

Words explode in my head pushing and thumping against its walls to escape, thoughts stumble on each other like perplexed mass but I could not bring myself to write a single word. Frustrated with myself I turned to reading but the words became a blur. Crying is therapeutic and I was filled since some days. Suddenly my eyes became pools of hot liquid and from under the closed lids streams of hurt and pain and utter dejection with self began to slid down my flushed cheeks. For a long time I just let it all flow. My temples throbbed and zillions of electric currents passed through my head sending shock waves down my tired body. Then it all ceased. Sleep is a healer too.

Words still kept their distance. When the walls begin to cave in and suffocate you light streams in from some crack somewhere. I chanced upon a lovely photograph of a walkway and a simple exchange of thoughts and a some comments reminded me how I miss the empty spaces in life. How all the life, even in lonesomeness, I am filled with an inner chatter, how I need to calm my self and embrace what I love. Go where love is. I have always been fond of long empty corridors, walkways. They give me a sense of intimacy. There are stories drifting in the play of light and shadows.Shadows that add meaning to the mundane. I remember how I would lean against a pillar , a tree or against the coolness of a wall and watch the deeper play than that which words can express. I would imagine the people who must have walked there once, their conversations, silences and then those empty places would fill with colors, textures, sounds and smells and as suddenly they would appear, they would vanish. Leaving a quiet silence and I would stand at its threshold not moving a muscle listening to the silence.

As I saw the photograph I was sucked into that place, that time and for a moment nothing else existed. The conversation drifted to sunsets and nights and I remembered what beautiful sunsets I had seen during my various journeys. Each one distinctly different from another. Sometime a carnage of dreams and memories, a sun stabbed sky turning  from Merlot to scarlet to shades of crimson, purple, blue and bronze which existed only in the box of crayons from my childhood. As I grew up I usually found them spread across the sky. A few of those brilliant sunsets I still carry in my heart. The orgasmic meeting of sky and earth at the horizon. The shimmering snow-clad peaks of Himalayas. The deepening evening shadows, the cacophony of birds, the sweet fragrance of pine or flowers riding on the back of evening breeze, the timelessness and a knowledge that we have a few hours of solitude ahead of us. It is surreal experience that remains etched in the memory for ever.

The sunsets led to the nights. The rich hues of night sky, the changing patterns, the calm that slowly seeps into the hollow of your bones. Night sky holds a very special place for me. I find it more alive than the day sky. I have memories associated with the night sky from my childhood, from my growing years and those years in between when it became my constant companion. The healing dark, I called it.

I often wondered what pulls me to the night and realized that just like memory it suppresses the idle details. Night is all-inclusive. Everything is draped in one single color.  A vast expanse of oneness that takes everything in its compassionate fold. There were times I felt choked behind the walls and curtains during nights and it loomed large over me like a hungry carnivore ready to take a plunge and dig its sharp claws in my soft flesh of my heart. I longed to step out and reach for the night sky outside my prison , lay bare my body and soul to it but then slowly I realized that all the serenity and calm that the night brings is inside me. Nights became the blotting paper for my sorrows, a playground for my desires, a confidante for the untold secrets and unfulfilled dreams just as it has been a fairy kingdom with stories written in stars and imaginary shapes and figures lingering in the drifting moon and cottony clouds during my childhood.

There was something about the darkness I loved then and do now. Every perspective changes as the night deepens and then fades with the first break of morning light. Laying in bed  just before the sleep takes over is the most rewarding time. It is a time  when the human heart , alone and unperceived, is full of powerful emotions and surrenders itself completely to the darkness. When all that is concealed is revealed.

City nights are harsh, artificial, haunted by neon dreams and smog that chocks its lungs and yet there is a time when everything stops. When one is pulled by the magic of the night sky. The few hours before dawn when I usually step out for deeper communion with self and whats around me.

Nights spent lying under the stars on terrace during summers still makes me nostalgic. The first thing that we lose when we grow up is the sense of wonder. I remember nibbling on a blade of grass and just watch the night sky. A million zephyrs, a lonely and frayed moon tugging the corner of a cloud drifting aimlessly, smokey wispy clouds,  sometimes  just inky blackness  of a winter night descending on everything under it like a widow of the universe it mourns in silence.  Its deep horizons yearning and longing for all that is lost.

The wild stormy nights of rain armed with jagged spears of lightning slicing the sky in two. Rainy nights that cleanse the venom inside and outside. I have spent hours standing under the night rain letting it out flow out.

Have you ever heard someone play soulful music on a wooden flute in the stillness of the night? Ever felt the warmth of human body next to you on an endless summer night without even touching? Ever thrown your arms open to the sky as if fishing for stars? Even looked at the mist moving like a ghost in the night from behind a glass window. Ever stood in an open filed, a lonely beach, a moonlit desert, at the edge of a cliff jutting across a deep valley drinking in the night? Ever walked the smoke-filled, neon lit, city roads at night? If not then you haven’t lived to the fullest.

I have walked the meandering , winding roads in the hills with sweet intoxicating smell of wet pine filling my lungs and puddles dull of moon light creating a magical scene after a sudden mountain rain. Roads hold me captive but we will talk about them some other time.

I woke up to a rain-soaked day today. When you stir a dying fire there are chances of some spark turning into a flame. Some questions burn like embers and should be left alone. Relationships are complex tangled web of emotions. I watch an emotional outburst turn bitter  and pungent with rage right in the morning. With heavy heart and tear filled eyes I took the blows , scared that one wrong word may spin the thing into uncontrolled roller-coaster and it was the last thing I want at this point of time in my life.

Brimming with pain I tried to stop the deluge that waited to be unleashed. The best option at such times , and I have faced many of them, is to go into a sound cave.

This is something I learned over the time. To switch off, disconnect, choose some music with drums, guitars, preferably rock, heavy metal , turn up the volume, put on the headphones and go into a sound cave. My favorites in such times are Enigma, Nirvana, The Rasmus, Evanescence etc. I used to listen to soft melodies which acted like fuel to fire marooning me in deeper in sadness. Music can be a great stress reliever as well as an escape into another world which is far remote from the grim, heart wrenching reality. Wearing headphones acts like  insulation from outside world – a sound cave where nothing else exists. In times when the world seemed too much for me I learned to slip into this sound cave. For an hour or so I sedated myself with music giving myself time to emerge out of  the incident that shook me. I often play some music according to my mood and listen with headphones on. It is my way to kill loneliness , to disconnect with the unpleasant and to connect with the sounds and rhythms , to absorb the lyrics which may or may not really have any relation with my current situation and mood but it soothes my inner.

I realized that doing this cleared much of the blocks within me including the writer’s block.

The sand is slowly shifting from under my feet. Uncertainty is looming large. Am at the edge of desire. I tell my heart that everything will work out well but I know certain things are elusive, distant dreams that may never get fulfilled. Sometimes we are at a crossroad of emotions and all we can do is either push through the fear and go ahead with the flow where ever it takes or become a cynic and get caught in the web of “what if”s and “if only”s .

Last one year  has been a journey within. I discovered facets of me that I never knew existed. I found myself doing things I could never imagine doing in wildest dreams and yet I am still unable to cut that one thread that is rubbing against my soul and making it bleed.

There is also something else tugging at my heart apart from losing my new-found economic independence. Something which holds the key to my life.  Love is a many splendored thing. Right now , with my muse back, I am letting the universe take over. I have slipped the questions to the universe. I know the answers will come .

Leaving you with a song I love

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6qLNnxGDaA&feature=related

Photograph : Part of the collonaded walkway that surrounds the Plaza Mayor at Salamanca. Photo Credit  James Goddard  . Many thanks.

I am large, I contain multitudes


I have a contemplative self and an impulsive self. A short-term self and a long term self, some distant past selves and distant future selves. At present I am in conflict with myself about the imaginary selves and the so-called real self.

Which of the self is actually me? Who am I?

No, it is not dissociative identity disorder, though at times one may think it is. Mind is a devious creäture who makes us believe who we are and is aided by the powerful emotions – anger, guilt, sadness, desire, pain, longing etc. Within our brain are different selves who pop up in and out of existence, each one with different desires, and each one wanting control and planning, scheming, plotting to get hold over others.  Walt Whitman said it aptly, “I am large, I contain multitudes.”

I think I have a strong coping system to deal with all my selves.  The idea is to maintain a balanced interplay between all the selves, a balance between long-term contemplation and short-term impulse.

As the time span increases I feel we have more multiple selves. I feel that I shift from one self from another smoothly; there is no clash, no conflict, no overpowering of one over other. Sometimes these selves that we create protect us, help us cope up with daily life situations, help us emerge from some deep hurt or realize some desire. They also help in making us strong. I see it as therapy.  I feel that different selves are brought to the fore by different situations and it is a continuous process.

A friend once remarked that I come across as a shy, introvert, scared, insecure person and that does not fit the image I have as a blogger / writer in virtual world. People who read me and know me from there expect me to be that gregarious, extrovert, bold and outgoing. Both these selves are me. One what I wanted to be and maybe was from within and other which people saw in me as a person who interacted with them. These interactions also differed from situation to situation and people to people.

I noticed over the time that I was able to merge the various selves to create a new stronger self, shedding the weaker aspects. From the moment we are born, we wear a mask and a robe of who the people around want us to be and the layers increase with time and under all this the true self in subtly forcefully buried.

I felt that under this entire role-playing I developed some overpowering selves which took control over those which initially existed. As the awareness increased the conflict also did. Maybe, to combat that, I created more imaginary selves, one of them being my virtual self. Most of them are various “me” in complete harmony and control over the situation they are in.

I realized that this creating imaginary selves  helped me to become what I am today and by that I mean to uphold what I believe in. Enjoying fiction requires a shift in selfhood and I think participation in what is unreal is the best way to spend the leisure time. To take on different identities makes takes much of sadness and hurt from the real-time experiences. It helps heal. I find creating alternate identities or selves, interesting and harmless.  My imaginary friends and selves have a lot of fun and adventures. I am fully aware of these imaginary situations and selves and often joke about it as I love my schizophrenia J  . I guess they have made me more socially adept than before. More confident and secure and most importantly helped in “being myself” and not a shadow of what others expect me to be.

Most of us from time to time hold conversations with people who are not actually there. Conjuring up people or physical props is common and with me creating selves to match these props or people comes easy. As I said before maybe I have a strong coping system. Internet is interesting place for creating the alternate self and many people indulge in it due to its relatively safe environment. I know people who have created different avatars to explore or release different aspect of them.

It would be remarkable if all the selves coexisted and worked as team inside our mind but they clash and create compulsions and addictions. If one can keep them under control then they can prove beneficial too. In my case to an extent they did help me get out of a messy life and change my path.

Self binding helps to contain oneself from dominating the other self. Both the short-term impulsive self and the long-term contemplating self are essential for growth, the conflict continues and sometimes one wins, sometimes the other.

I define my self as what I stand for and believe in, sometimes visible and at others camouflaged.

I remember a short verse from Rumi which says it all:

 “Anyone who knows me, should learn to know me again;

For I am like the Moon,

you will see me with new face every day.”

― Rumi

This post is in response to week  #54  (5-27-12 to 6-2-12): Self  BGE 2

Last Night


 

Last night was longer and made for torture or reflection or for savoring of loneliness. Like an ancient tomb where the souls come out gasping for life and searching for potential bodies which they can occupy. The soul with as opposed to them struggles to escape.

I lay taking in the  stuffy darkness of the room.  Everything began to rapidly merge into blackness. Unfamiliar shapes, menacing, uncanny, or merely grotesque began to emerge.

Some prisons don’t have bars, or guards. Such was last night, thicker than any wall, blind, empty and  immensely engulfing . Like a huge gaping hole which slowly sucks you in and  now and then you brush against appalling things that roam and prowl in its chambers. You see nothing. Hear nothing. The murderously asphyxiating silence is all one has for company 

Was I scared? No. It was a trance like state where you feel nothing or feel so deeply that the pain makes you numb.

An owl screeched and I could imagine it gliding past my window. Stillness returned.

On the opposite wall a pattern began to emerge. The fluorescent hands of the clock like some invisible claws blurred into nothingness and a face of time emerged. The glowing numbers burned holes in my mind. Nothing stirred.

Spellbound by the deep penetrating eyes I lay transfixed on my bed.  Thirst like the scrape of hot sand-paper began to bruise my throat. I tried to get up but something held me tightly to the bed. My eyes returned to the face on the wall.

All the uncertainties, all the questions came rushing to me. Here was Time who had all the answers.

“Only the time will tell ” I was told.

I looked beseechingly , pleading for the answers. None came.

Maybe it wasn’t time for them to be revealed.

So, why was it here, staring at me like a death mask ?

What did it want?

Why it glaring eyes seemed to look accusingly at me, making me shift uncomfortably?

Time doesn’t tell anything. It doesn’t heal. Don’t believe it all you have been told. Time simply crushes you, chains you, makes you its slave and whiplashes you to obey its commands. The answers, the healing comes from either within or from elsewhere. Time just watches the drama and laughs at our misery . Time is the devil to whom we have sold our souls. It is the master , we  mere slaves. Only an inner uprising can bring the change. Only that can create true love, true courage, true self.

Tonight the battle was at its peak but something was amiss or maybe someone and it made all the difference.

I shifted my pillow to the other side but I could still feel its gaze  penetrating   through my skull.  It’s measured ticking reverberating.

With some effort I pulled myself out of bed and removed and shoved the menacing clock under a pile of clothes. The muffled sound of its breathing still audible.

I gulped a chilled glass of water and decided to lie facing the window. The hot summer night-sky claimed me.

The butter-gold moon came encroaching through my window. Suddenly filling it with a calm glow. Spent by my inner state of being I watched as it lingered in deep sky. Watching me with its forlorn eyes.

A jarring buzz vibrated in the small of my back  scaring the wits out of me. The cell phone had quietly slid itself and nestled in the comfort zone away from the events of the night. The led light brought me back to the real world. Reluctantly I opened my laptop to work. Sometimes one is just pulled from all sides like an elastic band and then released. The sting of pain shot through my head as my fingers tapped mindlessly at the keyboard.

The cellphone meanwhile breathed its last. Sleepless and restless I went to put it for charging, took the chair out in the balcony and slumped on it. The moon had disappeared behind the high-rise buildings. The air was still and did not provide any solace. Back in the room I brought the clock out . The hands had miraculously appeared, the face had melted into the fiber of the machine. 3 AM it said.

I could hear an early bird call somewhere.

Sometime loneliness and absence digs its claws deeper than usual and leaves one wounded. Such was last night. The ache hasn’t subsided nor has the yearning.

From a distance


From a distance earth and sky seem to meet but the reality is different. I prefer to watch the horizon from a distance, to feel  romance of the sky and earth. I keep alive the magic of day and night linked together like no two things can. One can not exist without another. It’s a complex relationship they share, Forever together and yet forever apart. So do we. 

I love its cryptic majesty. The sacred orgasm where the earth lays itself bare to the sky, the sky bows down to kiss her and both explode in colors of their cosmic union. To get drenched in those colors, to feel the energy flowing between them is like a spiritual orgasm. The agony and ecstasy of love. I love to lose myself in those glimpses of  deep divine ethereal ritual. The way earth bounders  the boundless sky.

It is intoxicating to watch the different facets of love so beautifully revealed by nature. The two polarities ; known and unknown, visible and invisible, the . We all have a little of sky and earth in us. Love has its roots in the earth as pain and agony and its branches of ecstasy reach to the sky. The horizon for me is also the dual aspect of love  – physical and spiritual.

Then this feeling of timelessness and egolessness when I watch the horizon and think of many beyond that. There is a magical pull that draws all the negativity and fills me with calm when I gaze at the horizon. I feel that there is this solid grounding energy of the earth, reassuring and supporting and the vast ,warm, expansive energy of sky and the horizon is the blending point of both. A balancing point and that’s what it teaches me. to reach for the sky and still stay rooted to the ground. 

It is the perfect love affair where the sky and the earth meet. As I look deep into the horizon I find answers and explanations for everything: every pain, every suffering, joy and confusion. 

Horizon has another meaning for me.  Sometimes the reality of a certain situation is so painfully obscure that you do not wish to face it. I like to view it from a distance at such times especially if it is about love. Love that is unattainable. A mirage has its existence and beauty only from a distance, if we go closer it vanishes. Such is love sometime. I love to keep the image alive , to rejoice in it from a distance from where it looks perfect. A perfect merger of two beings in love. For a moment all the inhibitions, doubts, reservation are shed. It is as beautiful as one imagines it to be. A closer look or a pondering about its really would shatter the heart. Sometimes to sustain oneself we need a horizon.

I know that somewhere between where the dusk and dawn meet I will find love as splendid, as magnetic, as erotic, as spiritual as the love of sky and earth at the distant horizon. As real and as dream like as it seems. For that is a wholesome love, where no one owns the other, where there is distance and togetherness at the same time. 

Photograph courtesy Google images. All credits to the rightful owner.

Rambling heart


Sometimes the heart is filled with mixed emotions. Just that.

Is it wrong to have a good trusting heart? Why is it that people try to smother you the moment they find you vulnerable or naive? Is not friendship/ love or for that matter any relationship about giving space?

Sometimes one has to let go even after knowing that the person means well. Relationships blossom only when there is a flow in them, like a river. When you try to lead someone’s life for him/her then it begins to wither. We all try to control the other person all the time but the moment someone does it to us we rebel.

Sometime the best thing to do is quietly let go and move on. You can’t force a flower to bloom. To know when to go away and when to come closer is the key to any lasting relationship.

Yesterday all the young adults were at home. It warmed my heart to see how these kids have grown up to be such wonderful human beings. It wasn’t long ago when they trotted all over the house wearing diapers .  It’s amazing  how one of them has started earning, another  crossed his teens today and the little ones are not so little anymore.  We saw their baby pictures and read the small little notes and letters they had written . The beautiful drawings that those little artists made brought back so many memories.

Today is my firstborn’s twentieth birthday. Strange that when one beautiful relationship was blossoming another was crumbling like a house of cards. Sometimes I wonder what is this strange relationship I share with my boys. They are my sons, best friends, confidante and much more.  There is a much deeper bond that connects us where age is no bar. I think despite of  all the blows that life gave the journey was one hell of a crazy fun trip with both.  Trust me raising two brats is not for weak hearted. I have had my share of tears and laughter.  You can browse through all the  posts about my mind-blowing brats and me Here  

Talking of relationships reminds me of some very beautiful ones that I share with some very precious people in my life. Some are just memories as either the other person is no more or they have moved on to different cities and different arms but the warmth remains.

My father was a very special person. We shared a great friendship and I accepted him with all his follies. Who are we to judge but Yes, I raised my voice against what I felt was wrong.  We argued, discussed, laughed off something, got pissed off at others but the bond strengthened with each day. I sometime wonder what makes a relationship click ? Maybe it is the similarities or maybe it is the differences. I know that it is acceptance of both that makes some strong but then why do some of them crumble? We are forgiving in one relationship and so very unforgiving in another?

I guess it is question of how deep is the hurt. When the hurt penetrates deeper into the crevices of heart it is difficult to nurture a bond. The heartstrings lose the elasticity, they break .  All one can do is forgive and move on. We learn from past relationships, we learn all the time, every moment teaches us something one just needs to be aware. I have realized we can either make it  bitter or better.  I want to bring out the nectar from the poison.

I began this post yesterday but these days emotional posts get me down. Today is the festival of light. A time to look within and observe the inner light. To let go of all the hurt, pain and negativity. To Believe and embrace life as it unfolds.

Life enriches in more than one ways. I lost some of the most precious years yearning for love, compassion, dignity and most of all my inner child but today I feel I have come a full circle. I have learned to accept love in any form it comes. To keep my palms open. It is said that it is not standing still that makes the butterfly sit on your palm but the stillness of heart. I am sure I will be able to still my heart from today.

There are people who have warmed and nourished my life . Friends , some virtual other real, who have given me strength to shed the veils, to be myself, to love myself and stand alone again.

Sometimes the heart knows no reasons and goes all out to just Love. Relationships sometimes don’t have names. They just are. It is a feeling beyond words. One just feels blessed. I thank the universe for bringing this joy to me , for all the precious hearts who are connected to mine , for the light that guides me in the form of my mentor , for the immense love and care I receive from someone very special . Distances do not count, nor does someone’s being or not being physically, it is the energy flow that matters. It really does.

I learned one thing in recent years , it is Our heart that sings the unchained melody of love , it doesn’t posses , doesn’t smother .. just loves and sometimes there is a duet sometimes not but the song remains eternally beautiful. It is complex and yet simple. There is a longing and yet there is a free flow. I want it to be like that .. flowing. No one got anything from caging someone. It is in the spaces that love grows. We just need to open our heart petals. I am doing it and am sure the universe will respond.

This is my rambling heart , flowing as a river. Sometimes calm and serene and at others youthful like the mountain spring.

So here is to love, happiness, light and peace

Here is a beautiful song for all of you  and especially for someone who changed the course of my life by just being there unconditionally.

A Poem For You


I wish I could

write a poem for you

a poem that paints my dreams

dreams that tell our story

each word a picture

a visual collage

of love and lust

pain and longing

hurt and anger

distance and closeness

meeting and parting

iconography.

I wish I could

write a poem for you

but

words shrugged their shoulders

and walked away

just like that

and I was left

staring at them

I beseeched them to stay

like I did with you

I did

Estranged words

if only I could catch them

thousands of words

some said some unsaid.

Now I stare at the empty screen

( strange that I should say empty screen instead of empty paper. How much has changed since then .)

My fingers caress

the smooth surface of the keys

my ears

long to hear that delicious clicking sound

 

Nothing.

The fog doesn’t lift

I push myself and strain

to see the fog veiled vision

a form

vague and abstract

I close my eyes and zone out

The poison flows through the eyes

leaving black streaks on my cheeks

better to flow out than stay within and burn the very essence of my being

my error of judgement, my follies , my fall

all clear now

There is a deafening, demeaning silence in the heart

that I try to figure out

and draw a blank

vexed with my myself

I leave the unfinished, untitled poem

in the drafts

 

Wednesday 7 PM


The heat is unbearable.  I am going through a strange phase, I do not know what to call it. A feeling of restlessness is creeping in. The summer afternoons make me dizzy with thoughts. It’s been some time since I discovered that my body was not at ease. Doctors are the last people I would want to visit but I had no choice. The comfortably numb feeling was now becoming a bother. The tingling sensation in the limbs continues to remind me that I need to take care, pay attention. A warning.

Life is strange. I have suddenly lost interest in everything. Everything seems strange , fake. I want to shed the masks I am wearing. I have began to question relationships, emotions, intelligence, my very own existence. What am I doing here , why am I alive  dragging my sick body, mind and soul around for nothing? Have I lost my way and the purpose of living?

My uneasiness disturbs the stillness of the afternoon. There is only one sound that overpowers the inner chatter is the hum of the AC outside the window.

I am beginning to hate noise, sounds irritate me. I want to escape inside a cocoon. My hair uncombed and disheveled stick to the nape of  neck. I want to chop them off. Go bald maybe. I am as crumpled as the sheet on which I lie watching the fan struggling to circulate some air in the stuffy room..

I snatch a bottle of chilled water from the fridge and gulp it down ,  it cools my inner but the uneasy feeling continues.

Standing at the window of my ma’s 9th floor apartment I stare blankly at the concrete jungle out there. The building remind me of deserted graves in a forgotten cemetery. It is depressing for the first time for graves never depress me. They have a way to communicate but the sight of these high-rise builder flats,  old crumbling houses drain me.

I pull the curtains. A memory of a loved one is nagging me since morning. I woke up with a dream and a bitter taste in my mouth. I know you will find your way to this page. Silently .

I want to cut out the noise, zone out  drift away. I shoo the memories away. Intruders from a distant foreign land. I wince as a sharp splinter of a dream goes deep into my heart. I remind myself to stay alert and not get seduced by the distant calling and yet my heart rebels. I have developed a taste for getting bloodied and bruised.

Incomplete , mute stories of two hearts living in two different worlds.

love.. romance… lust… I understand the last. Love as I saw it sucked the soul from my body , romance was a smoke pattern on the walls of my mind. Lust .. yea that is real. very real. Unsaid but felt strongly. Camouflaged yet visible like an undercurrent. Lust never lasts. It never can be a bond between two souls. It is like a bush fire.

I never asked for explanations. I know the reason we parted.

Virtual world is a strange place. unknown people wanting desperately to connect with each other, seeking love which has  a hollowness attached to it. Yet we give it , let ourselves flow with the current, hearts break, disillusionment , hurt, we knew it all and yet we give it seek more. Addicted to the something so unnatural.

I saw you , an image, an enigma ( yes you were) , I was trying to disconnect with real and move to another realm. got sucked into the web. You were like a tiger on hunt. I feel this now. Slowly moving in the shadows, distracting the prospective prey to get away from the herd. You had set your eyes , eagle eyes, on the target. circling around till the moment was ripe. No you did not want to kill. You are not cruel. you were amused, you wanted to play. It is rare but not uncommon. Tigers play with their prey, make it comfortable, make it run, tire it and then pounce on it ripping it’s soul out of the body. You played very well but unfortunately lost the grip.In a twinkle of an eye I realized the hollowness of the thing and yet ….

I saw my  mistakes, errors of judgment, your failings, my fall…all so clear now. All the excuses  made for you when others pronounced you guilty are now vacuous billboards along the stack of drained words.

Resentment crows over the dusty horizon, a sour taste, a feeling much beyond hatred.

What’s that feeling?

I am trying to figure out the deafening, demeaning silence in my heart but am unable to comprehend it yet.

I look back and watch the strange threads of lust love and hate  tangled and knotted . A crowd of memories of you jostle and fight for space,  filling and overflowing from the gaping spaces.

The dust filled sky is silently watching the turmoil. I can taste  as the dust sits on me. you burn me like this summer sun. blisters .. incurable and painful.

I have lost the relevance in your life just as the smoke patters on my heart walls have dissolves into the air making it even more stuffy in the room.Shadows marked across the heart…

I am listening to the song on my mobile.. in the end it doesn’t really matter. There is a maddening urge to throw it all out and disappear.

The mind cautions the heart against rummaging in the bottomless depths of human emotions.

“Beware the flood-gates of human passion”.

Who is listening… ? Have you even connected to someone who transcendent into the very fabric of your life. Someone whom you have never met , nor will ever maybe, who is just  known to you . Someone virtual not real and yet he is there in every little thing that revolves around your everyday life. An enigma , an reputation you have created. He may not be aware of it for it is you who wants him to be there in every waking , sleeping moment . You weave your life around him , that image  which has began to seep through your senses. You become that person as he takes the hold on you completely.

Why and how can a person who drifted from some distant land, distant space occupy your each living moment? Why is it that I am unable to detach myself ? Why is it that even after such a suffocating silence my heart strings play the notes of his song. Why is it that his presence haunts me day and night?

Why does the heart aches for something so utterly impossible? Why do I seek him  knowing that he is just a mirage in the vast  desert land? Is it ego that holds me captive to grudges and memories or love  or longing or just a need or am I lingering on to a relationship feeding myself on the pain and agony? What am I looking for? Is it a blame game I want to win ? How does it matter  who is right or wrong? What will it change ? What will I achieve ?Why the memories that brought a smile and warmed my heart slash through my heart now ? How can a sweet moment turn so bitter to bring a taste of bile in my mouth and yet I treasure it ?

Why I need an explanation ? Will it mend the broken heart or bring back the freshness of love with which it all began? It rips me apart to let go so I hang on to the nurse the open sores silently I close my eyes experiencing the throb , the ache , the hurt. Self inflicted trauma.

Unfulfilled dreams, a feeling of loss of something which I doubt was ever mine. A longing for someone who does not exist in life. A virtual fatal attraction. A giver turned into seeker. That’s me.

Why do I yearn even after receiving such hammering from him?

Too often sincerity is an under-rated virtue in modern life.

Some people  leave a void impossible to fill.

I have a feeling my soul is spent and I have nothing more to give to give to the world.

My love tainted.

The torrent of emotions screaming down the insane moist greens like a dive bomber inflicting greatest damage and then a calm.. gentle , seductive  blend of heaven and hell.

The post started on Tuesday and has lingered on till today. ..passions flow unrestrained.. they need  to flow ..they will  till I find myself again.