Men in my Life -II

Unaware of the storm inside me when you saw me for the first time waiting for you over there I wanted to know what your honest reactions were. That I could never know. I had quite told myself that whatever would follow later that evening I would see it through as the real me, and not some fake woman trying to please the stranger in you. But I defied myself in the very first moment. I smiled at you. The way I had decided I would have been rather staring at you curiosly, asking weird questions about the person you are. But I smiled.

Before it all began, one thing irked me somewhat. I wondered how people remembered their ownselves after their better halves entered their lives. Years of solitude had mended me into someone whose emotions were pred-decided, opinions fixed. I had irreversibly fallen in love with myself. This self-love was the buffer around me, my shock-absorber of sorts.No matter what, I was to stand by me, like an insane hypocrite. It was understood that the man in my life would be just secondary.

Later I met you. I had been looking for a reason to love, more than I was looking for love. But then I met you. Thin strands of attraction dragged my eyes to you, and made them stay there. Thin from my side, thinner from yours.

and this made me insecure. Insecure that I wouldn't love myself as much anymore. What if I end up losing you. I would have lost myself already. and there was not a trace of selfish guilt in all that I thought. It appeared obvious. It does with time. Time spent alone, inside the four walls of my mind.

In the days that followed when we got involved, i forgot to think that this way to love wasn't politically correct. the way to love was to start from acquaintance, and then via frienship trickle into love. drop by drop.

But we were meeting intending to fall in love. we might have been trying as well. now in the light of reason, that appears ridiculous to me. had it been some other female in my place, i would be clutching my stomach and laughing. but way back then, i was like living in a dream. all else but you, looked like a facade. i wasn't sure of you, but i wanted to believe you for real. believe that we could happen.

Believe that love wasn't a myth afterall. and that i could fall for it.

PS: But love isn't a myth. I actually saw a guy in this..!


the first time i saw her, she was literally dragging her feet on the road, heading home. must have had a real tough day. in the light of the dusk i couldn't see the expression on her face, but she must have been talking to herself. i tried to fast forward to when she would barge into her room and throw herself on the bed.

the second time i saw her was in the restaurant. she was with someone and i was with many people. they had preferred one corner table. and in the dimlit darkness i could gather, she wasn't beautiful. the waiter came out with two veg sandwiches. one was for me. the other for her. they were awful, the sandwiches that is. they were cold and tasteless and cold and tasteless. but thanks to them, we ended up with our first common disgust.

third time, saturday evening, in the temple. in the bright light i saw a serene face. lips din't move. so silent prayers. then i heard her sob, i heard her cry. i saw her break down. i waited there and saw her hold herself and walk past me.

the fourth time it was in a bookstore. her hair had settled into lose curls. strands of it kept falling on her face and she never gave up on tucking them behind her ears. no earings though. she held half a dozen books in her hands, like she was taking them home for dinner. ah, greed for the written word. for a brief insignificant moment my eyes met hers. for the one first time. she held my eyes in hers for one brief instant, and then let go.

our fifth was in a fish market. she was in faded jeans, torn jeans. my mind moved about with her like the usual. she looked totally out of place. someone was doing the fishing for her. she was meant to do the better of the jobs. observing. people watching. i caught her taking pictures. of everything in and around, of the absolute squalor. she has an eye for everything.

the last time, she was standing in the rain. in purpose. her gurgling laugh filled the air. rippled all the way to where i was standing, nearly in love. the rain was filling into her hair, strand by strand. the rain was filling into the plate of pani-puri she was having in the rain. pani-puri in the rain. she did sorts of things to her hair and laughed yet again. and again. while i stood there, nearly in love.

Does Dearth lead to Death?

And c’mon what is it? What is this temptation about? To be in love? To be loved in return? Or just the desire to be together?

Is it not about these moments? And just these moments that I spent blushing under your stare or feeling the warmth in your hands…?

Nothing lasts forever and so does love. It doesn’t last beyond moments.

Men in my Life- I

I had five minutes to catch my train. I had a heavy suit case
in one hand hand, my hand bag in another. Plus a parcel of
my wud-be-dinner. I was climbing the stairs on this
foot-over bridge to the other platform. My luggage was
almost kiling me. And that showed on my face.

There was a gentleman accompanying me. He was a tall, fair
and gentle man. Worthy and nice. He was supposed to see me
off in my coach and rush to his. In a span of fast reducing
seconds now.

He saw me struggling with my bags and all. Five steps ahead
of me, he waited.

"Need help?"
"No, I am fine."

We drag two more steps.

"Gimme something"
"Ah? No's okay"

I caught up with him. And when I was right beside him, he
took the packet of chowmein from my hands.
I was so much in splits laughing and laughing and laughing.
But all inside my mind. I had one suit case..a bag to add to that,
on my frail shoulders. But the packet of chowmein was all he
could do to lessen my burden.

And I am still in splits laughing. Wondering about the insignificance
of the moment we shared. The stupidity of it. Of me coming back
and telling about it to my friends. And finally writing it down. Here.

Seasoned Estranged Lover

Congratulations! I have become the seasoned estranged lover. That is precisley why I deleted my last post. Because I no longer am that irrational a soul searcher. Certain things inside my mind have been fixed. Scanned and fixed. 

No crush lasts beyond two days. That is if I let it happen in 
the first place. I have become a staunch non-believer of love. 
I don't understand the concept of it so I doubt the existence 
of it.

Some people tell me that I am desperately in search of 
company. Some people tell me that I am so perennially sad. 
Some people tell me that even company won't buy me joy 
because sad is the way I want to be. 

But there is something I have been doing to myself with time. 
 I have been killing my passion, muscle by muscle. It's been a 
very gradual and effective process. Due to which I now feel 
that I have lost my capacity to love. To love madly. With my 
previous rage...

Whenever I fall in love, I look for a reason. I try to take 
myself away from the intoxication of love and look for the 
reason. But alas, love doesn't have a reason behind it, I guess. 
So before my two days, I fall out of love. 

Hardly anything can intoxicate me. Everything has mellowed 
down. I have answers to the many questions I used to be 
speechless about. 
The Reds have diluted into magentas and browns, blacks andgreys...

~I remember the contours of your face. I remember your hair, hah! The way you used to speak with a pause. The pause that made my heart miss a beat. The pause that made me gasp for breath inside me, and look calm on the outside. And I remember a lot many things. I am fighting my memory for you these days~

~I woke up thrice the same night to complete this post and now it's done. Finally-Salvation!~

Rapunzel & the Guy

I don't agree with the way love happens. Someone important to me, happens to have told me that love starts from the spark of attraction. And I don't want to agree to this. 
My friend Rapunzel helped me out with this. No, she is not an imagination. She is for real. We have been best of friends since we have known each other. And if love has a reason, then friendship should also have one. I am totally in love with my Rapunzel-the 'free spirit'.  

Then came one day, Rapunzel and the Guy became aquaintance. Then they became friends. Then good friends. And now best friends. I hadn't had the slightest idea. As is the case usually, she lived in denial. 

Denial? You know when you are precariously hanging from the thin line between being friends and being in love. Between wanting each other and needing each other. You are confused. And you want time to convince yourself..she said the rose was yellow & not red anyway. 

But I had so given up. I knew that they were spending the rest of their lives with each other. The way I saw him hold her, the way he made her happy, the way a peace prevailed when they were together...

And one fine day, Rapunzel blushed. Turned pink. And told me that they did bow down to the force that love is. Finally! 

A chat on the phone that went night long, followed by a walk to the hill, sunrise, and then the confession of love. Of needing each other. The promise of being there for each other. 

They weren't attracted to each other in the first sight. They spent four long years being just a step away from love. And it happened just a day before they were to graduate...the best way it could ever happen. And I totally agree with this. 

PS: When did wildflower become an optimist?