Would you hold me? Give a real hug?


I like the way you say “we will find a way”. I like the word “we”. It feels like a warm hug even from such a distance. I have lived a life fractured into “You” and “I”.  It never became “we” until you came in it.

It is true that every time I think of you  it is like getting a hug from inside out but sometimes the want for a real hug consumes me like a wild-fire. I wonder if the love we put into words will ever transform into hugs – real hugs not virtual.

I have forgotten how a  real hug feels like, the warmth of a human body against yours, nothing sexual or romantic but just a need to be held. I can’t remember even if I go back looking through my youth or even my childhood. Just simple hug, that cocaine high , that surge in the blood, that solace of being desired, that shamanistic, trance like feeling of ecstasy which strangely illuminates from within.   I desire you in the simplest way, simpler than you can think of and this desire is constellation of  wants and needs, hopes and dreams exploding inside me yearning for that one hug. The warmth of your arms around me.

I get that warmth from the words you say and write and the yearning increases with each day.

Sometimes I sit and wonder, why do we feel so uncomfortable giving a hug as we grow up? We don’t teach our children importance of non-sexual touch. They grow up without that knowledge and don’t know what to do when someone wants to hug them. They freeze. They feel confused when a sudden voice from inside tells them to go embrace someone. They burn but can’t bring themselves to give a simple hug. It surprises me how my own boys somehow lack in this especially when I instilled it in them. I guess society has a lot to do with this inhibition we have. These simple gestures of holding hands, hugging are lost in the rigid norms society enforces on us. It is surprising that two girls hanging out, hugging , walking hand in hand, giving a friendly peck on the cheek is acceptable but when boys do it becomes a matter of concern and ridicule, something abnormal, out-of-place. What kind of world are we living in? Aren’t we depriving our children of basic human needs? What will they become when they grow up, if not skewed up, frustrated adults fighting with their basic instincts?

We grow up to be icons of romance, fulfil those slush fantasies but so lack in these simple things. It is strange that sometimes those in a relationship/ marriage too lack these simple pleasures just like we, the lonely ones do. It is not gender or age based either.  We connect with each other at many levels but not on this one. There are times when one wants to give a hug and restrains and if one gets a hug one freezes and shrugs it off. Either way we lose, curl up, and go into a shell yearning for a  hug.

Empty hearts give empty hugs, even the pleasure of sex quickly goes cold in cold arms. I have been there so I know. They are just physical motions one goes through, a routine, devoid of love, desire, care or longing empty arms which may feel warm but leave your cold and drained. Slowly that dies too leaving a void, a starved body longing for human touch. Nothing is more bitter than to be forced to submit to the falseness of love. To endure the cage of arms that suck life out of you instead of  nurturing it.

I long for those arms, those arms that can end the growing longing; arms that would wrap me in the comfort of loving energy that matches mine. Arms that would make me feel safe, cared, understood for who I am. Not possessed, owned or used as an object, not holding me as an obligation to dead vows .

I sometimes feel like hugging random people on streets but I notice how suspicious we are of each other. We restrain ourselves and lock ourselves afraid that the floodgates of human emotions may overflow. Unsure if we can handle the deluge. We give virtual hugs freely but a real hug is a herculean task. I have felt the flow of energy even when touched accidently but it just ends in a surprised reaction. Hardly anyone gives a real hug these days. It has been reduced to a social gesture. We hug our animal companions more than we hug our fellow human beings. Isn’t it something to think about? Have you ever wondered “why”? Why is there such a social disconnect?

I sometime ..no, actually all the time … feel the need to put my head in someone’s lap or shoulder and cry or open my arms to someone who needs it, to stroke someone’s hair, to simply hold someone’s hands, simple things that words can never express.

You have to be in this place to feel the emptiness of the feeling of having someone who can change this forever and yet being a distant dream. This feeling is beyond the loneliness of any sort.

To be held in true love is a rare experience these days, be it from children, parents, friends, lovers, be it in any relationship even marriage.

I am looking for those arms, those arms which would hold me and true love, compassion of human heart, comfort and understanding.

Would you hold me? Would you turn those words into real hugs?

Would you?

You know

I would

If you choose so

Till then I will just desire. Feel your words wrap me in their warmth and make my fragmented state of ordinary life a little coherent. No longer scattered like autumn leaves through  time and space but contained at one place. In You.

When was the last time you gave or got a real hug?

If it makes you think, I feel for you.

Here is one  for you

You and I – Corazon


Heart 

helium filled balloon

there is goes 

floating into unknown

chasing dreams

mine but not really 

who is it seeking ?

who knows? 

whose calling ?

Only the heart knows

I am flawed, fractured,scared and I know am living an impossible dream Love is a long haul and am ready to brave the tides and the whirlpools, storms and crushing waves.  I call it impossible not because I fear of losing it but because you are afraid to push though your fears. Nothing kills love more brutally than our own incapability to hold it together.

we talk more say less

think more act less

hear more listen less 

forget more remember less

empty more fill less 

conceal more reveal less 

take more give little

we leave a lot unsaid undone 

we do everything wrong 

just about everything

we turn love into a mental illness 

we pretend

we deny

and then we regret

we suffer

we live a heartache

.

 .

.

I wrote a letter to you last night. I wrote it on a white paper. With a pencil. I did not just write it to fill the nightmarish hours, or to make it seem as close to reality as possible, nor did I write it so I could trace my fingers over it and feel the throb of each word. I did not write it to bring it to my lips and kiss the way I would have loved to kiss you – gently or to inhale your imagined warmth from it.

 I wrote it for a simple reason that I missed you in the most desperate human way. Raw naked want. Just that. Simple hunger. No , not the one that consumes the body and makes it burn over the cool white sheets. Not that. A want , a hunger of togetherness. Of being with each other.

It is something very private. Something that you may not even feel or may clothe it with your perfectly woven wordrobe so that it loses bits of its reality but I, I miss you more than you can imagine, more that I can  believe and I was prepared to miss you a great deal you see. This missingness is a deluge.

How do you miss someone whom you haven’t met in flesh and blood?

Why?

Let us not debate that. This is not a courtroom. This is not a trial of love .

It just is . Period.

It is a wait.

A wait that maybe you may realize and accept  that you too want me with the same intensity after all.

If not , maybe you will gather strength to say it otherwise, to put love to trial, to hold court, and the verdict will be given and love will lead us to our separate graves.

Have you walked through empty corridors? There is an intimacy there. Like love. It fills you.  A fusion of light and dark. Shadow and light.

Sometimes I feel you brush past against me , a presence, just as you in my mind, in my heart, sending a tingling sensation down the nape of my neck all the way to the small of my back.  It gets under my skin, circulates, and takes residence at various places I had forgotten they existed.

I wrote to you with a pencil .. why ? you will ask.

I never liked pens. I like the black on white. I like the fragility and fluidity of writing with a pencil. I like the way it softly moves, like foreplay.  Pens are crude in my opinion. violent.

There is a movement in words written with pencil.. I watch them lazily curl up on your pillow or slide beneath your nightshirt clinging to your chest, I watch them nestle in your hair as my fingers would. I watch them trace patterns on your body like kisses.  They are secrets, sensuous syllables cuddled under the supple  folds of your skin. Taking your shape, spooning . Only words written with pencil can do this. This perfect merger of hard lead and soft smooth delicate paper. Only they come with so many more possibilities.

Only they can map the topography of your body without leaving a tell-tale sign, silently like a tendril wrapped around a stem. With thousand miles between us I let them make what we can not. Love

So I wrote a letter to you last night, like every night . I can not keep away from you.

Go buy a pencil. Run your fingers over its spine. Hold it gently. Let its soft tip move on a white paper. Let the heart do the rest.

I wrote to you a letter like I do each night  and tied it to my heart .. there it goes .. it will find you … if you chose so.

Read all the YOU AND I posts here.

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.

You and Me – Sound


~Speak to me in those warm tones of elegance that only you possess

Wilfred Mellers

Today I am thinking of a million things that would take years to write. Things about love, about longing, about dreams. Things about you and me.

Your voice, even from such distance, holds me captive. It makes me tremble with bitter-sweet longings. Like a fawn feather it gently churns the milk of my heart and creates deeper play than the words can create. Behind my ear the temperature rises. The warm flush slowly spreads through me. A musky tickle along the spine.  It’s the fuel that feeds me, nourishes me, gives me life. It’s not just a sound, it has a soul, a body, unadorned, deep, rich, sensuasly splendid. Sultry, like a summer breeze. From across the miles it reaches out, touches me, sweeps me off my feet, lifts me to the heights unknown as I lose myself to it and surrender to those brief periods of orgasmic bliss.

There is a comfort in sadness, quietness in tumult, rest in weariness, hope in despair each time you speak. You occupy everything and when the conversation ends I can feel that something has shifted in the air. There is a strange stillness… Vulnerable turbulent stillness and a deep ,bone buzzing, heart pounding feeling envelopes me.

We have nothing but words. Written and spoken. All the senses revolve around these. Even with this distance your voice is your presence in my life , within me. It takes shape making your presence more poignant in your absence. I see , feel , touch you through your voice. Strange as it may seem, human voice can either move you or leave you cold. Yours is a voice I carry with me. It is like the water from  deep forests , a life spring to a scorched rock, that’s me.

I tremble like stroked violin as it makes love to me until the most beautiful music wafts from us, seizing my imagination, affecting everything.  I crave for the touch of your fingers and your voice is substance in  times of hunger like these.

I hunger for your sleek laugh, the words soaked in whiskey. They intoxicate and make me swoon even though we don’t talk love. There is a lot I listen to in between the spaces of our conversation.  When you talk fast I know there are millions of things unsaid swirling in a whirlpool inside your heart. Trying hard to get past the mundane trivialities of daily struggle to live, yearning to come out.  I know many times you do not really say what you are saying and can’t say what you did not. When you stop, I know you curse for messing it up and I smile even though it leaves me burning with want of you. I wonder if I will ever touch you ,but with these words.

So, talk to me

all that have in your head

as long as you can

as much as you can

Talk to me of your success, your failures

share all moments of joy and pain

of turbulence and stability

of loneliness and wants

of untold desires, of unsaid secrets

Let me be the sponge and

absorb it all and

unburden your heart

empty it of  things

gathered over the years

and make new spaces

for love to bloom

talk to me as insanely

as passionately as you can

as often as time permits

reveal yourself to me

shed all inhibitions

let there be nothing between our voices , our words

let your delicious breath tenderly stroke my the skin behind my ears

unravel me, unfurl me, bit by bit

till I am nothing but you

and you

nothing but me

say my name

let it swim inside me

so that one by one

all my pieces fall into place

let your voice bring me closer

There will be beautiful silences to share

when we will be face to face

but till then

let all my senses merge in one

let me breathe the sound of your love

and live

Read all the YOU AND ME  posts here

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.

Mind Wanderings – JLT


Tear, they know not for whom and for what they flow. Warm cocktail of happiness and pain. Sometimes the eyes just can not hold them anymore. Sometimes all that is unsaid constricts the heart and then the volcano erupts ending a painful conflict within. For the time being. There are days when you long for human touch. that one hug from someone you love or maybe from someone who loves you. Reassurance of something deeper than just frivolous playful words. Love,  not pity, not sympathy, nothing, but the silent warmth of trust, care and togetherness.

It is strange feeling to love from a distance. Strange and heart wrenching at times and yet there it a sweet pleasure in it. Pleasure of knowing, believing  that someone thinks you are worth it and a smile travels through the tears. An instant flush warms you up and then  reality shows you the mirror. The illusion fades away. The pain returns with greater vengeance. We fear “fear” the most. Fear of things that have not yet happen and maybe they even won’t but we fear and in that fear anxious heart cries for comfort. Comfort of that illusion, that mirage we call love.

It feels good when one is made to feel special but sometimes one knows how teasingly obscure it is… unattainable. Thank God for dreams, they take the pain out of life. Even if for time being.  You say little but when you do even my heart stops to listen, my senses become aroused to every said and unsaid word. Yearning, longing, wanting more. My brain is working at frantic speed. My dreams have suddenly turned neon.

You want to pour it all but how do you convey your intimacy and sincerity of emotions via phone, test, email, chat? How do you fill it with the sensuousness of a hand written love note mildly fragrant with the perfume of your body.  You can’t. The emoticons are absurd they can’t ever convey the frenzied torrential desires and warm snuggles, the silent lingerings and quiet surrenderings. How can a piece of metal convey all this? And yet that is all we have. And the dreams. Dreams where you are more real than the real. Dreams where there are no distances, boundaries, commitments, rules, duties, ties or strings which pull from all sides and drag you into quicksand of social obligations.

Reality makes me ask questions, makes me fear , makes me uncertain.

It makes me  hold you and ask you, “What are you? Why do you make me want to be better? Why am I afraid of disappointing you? Why am I afraid of the way you look at me, the way your gaze, your voice , your words strips me naked? Why does my heart collapse at the thought that if you turned away from me , I won’t know what to do with myself. I will be invisible even to myself? ”

Some feelings can not be described, some things remain unexplained like the smell of rain slaking the parched earth.

We mix and match the twenty six alphabets all the time, trying to bring out the most from what we have but sometimes they shrug their shoulders and walk away and then there is pause. Pregnant with all that could have been said through eyes and lips and tongue and fingers. Pause pregnant with frustration of being so utterly helpless and tongue-tied due to loss of words. That is the time imaginations takes over and dreams suck you back into the warmth of womb.  Reality is known to have super powers. It has sharp invisible claws that dig through your flesh and penetrate the deepest layer of your being. Life doesn’t break it crushes.

There is a shadow figure that moves with me. It wraps itself around me and hurls me down the stairs . It weaves absurd circles around me like an invisible web. I feel a pull and hear the sighs and whispers of lost souls. I am electrically charged. There are sparks everywhere. Bright, colorful sparks . Upside down I fall and catch the glimpses of forbidden,sunken lost world. I hurl towards it drenched in Red.Illusions collided against reality and got shattered into pieces. Now there are more of them.

I wonder how I got so addicted to your unavailability. Standing at the periphery of your world I turned into a plant and took roots . Roots that went deeper and deeper with time and even began to grow from my body above the ground. Complicated mess of tangles just like life.  I braved the seasons hoping that one day you will give it all up and come to sit under my shade and then I will embrace you and take you into my fold and fill you with new-found life. The wait is longer than I believed. In fact in is unending.  I shed leaves this winter.  Hoping that a chance glance will make you aware of  the “You” in my naked body.

I wonder how you so seamlessly slid under my skin. How you slowly occupied my thoughts, actions, silences. Every sleeping and waking moment. How you became me and yet …. there is a something amiss, an emptiness.  Something you need to figure out and fill, because for all I that can do  for you , this is something you need to do. Till then I will find solace in your being and not being and wait.

Sometimes I wonder

what if

I was

unavailable

unpredictable

cynical

measured my words and my silences

what if  I was guarded

what if

I appeared and disappeared at will

what if

one day you don’t find me waiting across  the line which I can never cross

what if  I one day vanished in thin air

I am afraid to know the answer to this “what if” .

but you don’t need to fear my love

for I have taken roots just at the edge of desire

at the periphery of your circle of life

am perennial  – just  like love

I will wait for my spring

and till then

weave a private tapestry

with

a thread – you

and a thread – me

Distance and silence makes you realize what you took for granted.  Do they?

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.

Between Silence And Words : Poem


Suspended between   silence and words

quiescent  I watch

Someone just drifted past me

even more silently

all colors, shapes, weight, sounds  lost

just a fleeting sense of being

A Relief

One can be alive

amidst this

suspended

but alive

words for once remain quiet

silence whispers

manifesting its existence

I float between two shores

two worlds

one of tangible objects

and the other

silent, unknown and hardly graspable

I yearn for an unfolding

no direction

no final destination

just a gentle swing

between words and silence

and a feeling of denial

Early Morning


Just a few  drops.

On the back of  hands

At the corners of the eyes

clinging to the strands of unruly hair

sliding down the red tip nose and burning cheeks

smudging the red letters on the pages of an old diary

and blurring the faces in the picture

mixed with a few cups of bitter-sweet black coffee served with two spoons full of  arguments .

Accompanied by muffled music of halfhearted strings, half-truths, told and untold lies ,

the drops silently left their random places and traveled to the sky .

I guess that’s when the sky became overcast

and  it began to drizzle .


Hai ku -unusual verses


I always loved this form of poetry .few words , depth and endless thoughts after that .It has been sometime since I tried my hand on it .Nabina’s blog prompted me to do it again .Today I thought, let’s sprinkle some magic dust across the blog post ..so let me try and  create the beautiful world ,full of little bundles of unusual verses .

one

crows they fly in the sky
like pieces of black charred paper
drifting from a fire

two

The fog descends silently

over the trees ,parks,homes

watches and moves on

three

flowers rise to the sky

I lie on my back on  grass

kiss,dance ,play of colours n light

Four

soft fluffy cotton clouds

endless blue sky,bubbling stream

sunlight on ripples,rainbow dreams

five

you left

forgot to take with you

the warmth of your hug

six

waves rise and fall

bitter sweet symphony of life

an endless romance

seven

the warm sand of beach

hugging the entire cool blue ocean length

from one end to the other

eight

your coat in the closet

a single long hair

memories of yesteryear’s

nine

fleeting glimpse in the crowd

your eyes haunt me

from day into the night

ten

A shooting star

a wish come true

great expectations

Eleven

fireflies dance

on earth and sky

in your eyes and mine

twelve

creases on used shirt

I try to iron them out

they stay like past grievances

thirteen

A dewdrop hanging from flower

my tear on your eyelash

slides silently on my lips

fourteen

morning mist

a young leaf unfolds

your arms give the warmth

fifteen

the bell finally rings

your silence on the phone

deafening