a love letter

A love letter

My dearest sweetest love,
This is going to be my last letter to u. after this I will not be writing any more letters. There will be no need either. Day after tomorrow is after all your wedding, to another man, as ur wedding invite tells me.
I am not going to ask u why are u doing this to me. Because I have already asked u this a million times. And each time u were silent. U know the pain im going through. There is no point in talking about it yet another time.
But I do want to talk about our times together. How we first met..if u care to remember, (amongst all ur wedding shopping), u had walked into our room one day, new recruit, a frown between ur forehead while beheld a huge red bindi, the perplexed expression of confusion, , ur red salwar kameez with one side of ur dupatta trailing on the floor, while your hips moved musically from one side to another. All I can say is that there were a million bells ringing in my head that time. I was not sure what happened to me, but I know, that at instant I was in love with u.
It took u longer to love me. I started drinking coffee, so that I could coincidentally stand right behind u,while u ordered ur coffee, so close, that my breathe almost touched ur back. I could stare at the your back, at that little exposed bit, that ur dress allowed, and wished that I could trace my index finger through. and when after umpteen coffees( which almost made me puke each time), when u spilt your coffee on my shirt, cause u turned suddenly, and u tried to rub the stains off my shirt, an embarrassed sorry look on ur face, I only remember that I was glad. The hot scalding coffee was like balm on my skin. Cause ur skin was touching it. As u bend slightly, to wipe the stains with ur handkerchief, I could see ur long silky hair shift a little, exposing a neck, that I wanted to kiss right there and then. A few strands of hair, that fell on my shoulder, I wanted to smoothen my mouth on their silky tangles, and never let it go. I was afraid that perhaps u would hear my heart beating when ur ear almost touched my breast. It was so so loud to my ears! After that we had many coffees together.

I remember the first time, we went to the beach together, we were sitting quietly, ur thigh touching mine lightly, almost there, skin on skin, through the clothes, as we stared at the sea.and u had taken my hand in urs and squeezed it. I had gently guided your hand to the lump in my pants, and when u had tried to remove it, I had firmly held it against my manhood. And then u did not struggle. And when I had lightly kissed u, a little later, ur sweet pink full lips, they were trembling and quivering, with my kiss, u had sighed. That time, U had made me the happiest man in the world

But even I had not realized how much more happiness I had in store for me. Remember how we had secretly squeezed ourselves into rohit’s car at jignesh’s wedding. U were on a different high that day. U had helped me remove ur fine silk blouse, ur saree palloo down, revealing a rounded beautiful belly button, which I immediately put my finger in, while u guided my hands back to ur blouse hooks, you had giggled while I had struggled with your bra strap, and then you kindly helped me remove it, when I couldn’t undo it. Your bossom, your fair bossom. Oh wat a lovely sight, that had been. The roundness of the semi circles…heavenly mounds of flesh, your roundish areola pink and taut, the nipples standing firm in attention, , while I cupped them in my hands, and u had sighed again, and waited patiently for more. When I had slid my hands down your thighs, touched u where u were a woman…….. I can’t write, all the pleasures that u gave me that day. All I can suffice to say, is that I would have died, if u had not told me that u loved me.

Then what went wrong, my sweet love?. What makes u not want to be with me? Why do u want to marry that idiot, who your parents insist are better for u, than me?...no I wont ask u any more..

I am glad that u have promised to meet me one more time. One more time, we will make sweet love. U and me. Only us. I will make u happy, as always, and while, after making love, u lie in an orgasmic bliss half awake, half asleep, by my side, as u usually do, ur mouth slightly parted, into a sweet smile of satisfaction, yours eyes half closed, as it always is when we make love, when ur voice is spent, after moans and moans, while I send u into spams of orgasm, I am going to thrust this knife into your throat. I have given it a lot of thought. I had wanted it to be a gun, u deserve nothing less, but I couldn’t get a gun, and I have to make do with this knife.

My sweetest darling, understand this, that is all that is left for me to do. I love u than life itself, and if, proving my love includes taking urs, I wont flinch. I will give u an estastic death. Cause like I said before a million times, I love u!

ambiguity

your eyes tell me
what ur lips dont,
i want to believe
your eyes
but i fear
il mislead myself.

so il wait
till your mouth finishes
what your eyes began ♥ ♥ ♥

anuradha...sometimes all u need is a kind word

Anuradha....my dad had named me anuradha, it was his mom who shortened it to anita..(to set the record straight, i hasten to add, I love both names).

anyways, the reason im writing this is because i came across this lata number, on Utube..... jane kaise sapon me kho gayi aankiyam, mai toh hoom jaagi mohe so gayi ankhiyaan..from the movie Anuradha.

ive seen the movie years ago, on good old doordarshan..

it is a story of a doctor balraj sahni,, who treats leela naidu, a singer, for a broken leg, falls in love with his patient, woos her, and wins her with his simple honest nature..

the earnest patriot, that he is, he heads for the villages, cause he felt he owed it to the humble impoverished villages. the dutiful wife follows suit..they have a daughter, and life seems rosy.

except that somewhere, the lady, cut away from her real calling, singing, and reduced to a housewife, is slowing wilting away, unappreciated and crowded out by by her selflessly overworked husband's job.

the story moves further, when, abhi bhattacharya, her former unsuccessful suitor, happens to come to the remote village, through his fiancee, who was injured in a car accident , in the same village.

he fires her imagination, when he accuses her of wasting her god given talent to settle for a man who was selfishly unaware of her emotional needs, in his grand scheme of things.

His fiancee's dad, who is also a doctor, wants to meet the doctor, who in a remote village managed to treat his daughter with advanced technology,not easily available in that place, and instantly recognizes the silent suffering of the stifled soul

the movie ends, when instigated by abhi, she first agrees to leave her 'loser' husband behind and restart the life she deserved, but changes her mind, cause she feels rejuvenated, by the kind recognition of the fiancee's father to her contribution/sacrifice in the doctor's life, and in turn the villagers who benefited by his work.

the story is heartwarming in its simplicity..of how sometimes, even true love is not enough, to save a relationship, and yet some other times it takes just a kind word from a stranger, to set the roses blooming again.

the song, and the scenes before and after the song
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYH2SqwZzzQ

stone

stone like...

i have become  a stone.
feel like a stone would feel..
stony faced
stone hear ted
hard, cold, lifeless, unrelenting..
dead weight.
strong.
unbreakable
capable of harm.

icy calm.

the pink dress

it was a beautiful morning..

Four year old rani had been awakened up earlier than usual by her mom.

"get up", she had chimed gaily, "today you are going to get a new dress. now brush ur teeth, let me give u a quick bathe, and drink up your milk, after which u can go with dad, to the shop for the dress..ok, now just tell me again what kind of dress u want"

Rani chirped happily, as she hurriedly started with her morning routine.

It was going to be a good day, she decided. She was getting a day out with daddy, and that too alone, most of the times, all outings were with mom and brother in tow,and since the way to the shop was far away, it meant there would be also be a bus ride thrown in, and finally she was getting her new " light Pink dress, with a big belt, and three big golden buttons".

'amma, will daddy get me matching bangles too, she asked anxiously?..

" yes dear' mom replied,"just remind him about it" as she tied her hair in two pony tails, the way rani liked it being tied.

soon enough both, father and daughter set out, her hand firmly in his, as she hopped and chirped her way to the bus stop.

finally, they were at the shop. Though Rani had enjoyed the ride with her dad, in the bus, she was happy when they were closer to the destination.Pink dress.

the shopkeeper showed them lots of pink dresses,before he finally pulled out one that was the one. It was exactly the pink shade she had wanted, it had a big belt with golden in it, and it had a beautiful button too. and best of all, it fitted well too.

after that, her attention wandered to the shop and other people in it, as her dad started talking doing some uninteresting stuff to the shopkeeper, and he talked back, and then suddenly her dad showed her another dress.

"how about this dress? do u like it? "he asked her. The new dress daddy picked was pink too, but as far as she was concerned, it was an apology of a pink. so was the belt.barely there. and it didn't have golden buttons.

"the first one", she said firmly.

dad again spoke to the shopkeeper, and then and ." dont u want this dress. its pink too"

"No" she was firm.

Then he suddenly, he was down on his knees.his eyes level with hers.his eyes, they were pleading.

" daddy doesn't have enough money for that dress. and the shopkeeper isn't giving it for less".

Rani wanted to throw a tantrum..You had promised" she wanted to say.

It was only the pleading look in her dad's eyes; as if he would cry if she didnt say yes...and she didnt want to be the one who made her dad cry.

"ok, thats pink too, and it does have belt and buttons. We will take that"

they waited as the shopkeeper wrapped the new pink dress, and father and daughter walked away into the sunshine, with her new pink dress.

It was a good day after all.

pongala ,......2012

Pongala

  The first first was that this was the very first time, that i had travelled all alone from mumbai to anywhere out of mumbai...without any family friends or acquaintances...ekta jeev sadashiv kind of journey....only concession i gave myself was that i booked tickets on 2nd class AC instead of regular second class.

since it was a working day, and i left for the railway station from office, hubby offered to get my luggage-just one small bag, btw.... to the railway station...

Lallu's Garib rath gave me wonderful AC, but no blankets..and since i cant bear AC draft i had to make do with my old stole to steal some warm moments for myself.

Okay, now the reason why i took a week off to kerala:

it is about a particular local temple festival that happens at during holi.

a devi's 'attukal' temple, where apparently due to tradition, women throng from all neighboring areas and cook rice 'nivedian' and payasam(kheer) to please the 'devi' on newly baked virgin clay pots, the stove being just three bricks, and firewood being twigs from coconut trees. u are also supposed to be dressed in fresh new pure cotton sarees.

well, guys, this year, the women who thronged to Trivandrum was 37lakhs( all in a six km radius)! they apparently also hold the genius book world record for maximum congregation of woman at a particular place or something like that some two years ago.

i was making this trip the first time, (i learn t of this festival only last July) just to know what it was all about.

so there i reach Kerala, to my inlaws place and from there to trivandrum (with my teacher sis-in-law and her 5 teacher friends) to celebrate 'pongala'. the train needless to say was filled with women of all ages, sizes and shapes

the festival is such that,the fire is first lighted at the temple, at about 10.15 am, after which we are supposed to light our individual fires and cook the prasad for the devi.on an empty stomach btw( i cheated with a cup of tea). All is fine, except that there was no way i was even remotely prepared to face the heat and smoke and smog of the collective fires from the individual kilns, and the daunting 10.30 heat of the sun.....suffice to say, within the first 10 minutes, i had already decided that i wasnt doing this again(i didnt go this year)...the smoke, the fire, and the sun... all i can remember vividly is the stinging and burning of the eyes......... there was just no way i cud keep my eyes open in order to push the firewood which was supposed to help heat the water in the pot, which was supposed to overflow(pongala)..(.that is supposed to be the offering by the way, the overflowing of the pot....)

somehow the pots overflowed, and by 12 all of us finished our respective cooking..

i almost felt like how Edmund Hillary Tensing wud have felt when he conquered Everest...a sense of achievement, at having done the impossible, also a nagging doubt, whether all that trouble was worth it!

or maybe he did fell a sense of achievement!.

.but what i felt was a niggling doubt.. was I insane to have traveled all the way to cook a square meal with just three bricks and two clay pots in a starched cotton saree, but from past trekking experiences, i was also sure that tomorrow i wud be feeling like i had conquered Everest!...

your love

your love ..
it sees me
in a new way

it discovers
facets of me,
hitherto unknown

it explores my soul,
like nobody
has done before

i discover myself
through your
explorations

afresh i see my self ,
through your eyes,
i relearn about my self.

your love....
it teaches me
to love myself.

The dancing girl

The Dancing Girl

of course,I have never had any illusions about my two left feet...my dancing skills..(or my singing or acting skills,, for that matter).

i have always envied those people, for whom dancing is, but a child's play....as far as I was concerned, dancers always spoke a totally alien language, a tongue i scant understood...they seemed god's chosen children. people born with a knowledge of a language so natural, so fluent, so fluid, so graceful, so effortless, that it almost seems terribly unfair, to people like us, who can use our legs only for mundane things like climbing stairs, running, jogging, trekking even,or catching trains, or buses.
,Dancing, for me, has always been a whole different world ...an interesting, promising, mysterious ....and always closed world, with the doors tightly shut. always.

Animals don't dance...at least not in the elaborate way we humans do.it is us, humans who have invented this wonderful form of self expression. a vehicle to let go of stiffness, of both, body and soul, a vehicle to fly light.a vehicle of merriment.enjoyment, laughter, a vehicle to forget all negativity, and bask in creation, using the body divine.

some of my inability to dance with abandon, also stems from the deep routed inhibition that dancing in public is a kind of exhibitionism, something not right.

There has always been a certain element of dis respectability in dancing (devdasis, mujras, nauch girls for example), where women are accused of shamelessly peddling their wares, to enticemen, who feel legitimately entitled to gawk at her peddled wares.In that sense, there is a duality in dance...dancers for the lord, and yet dance is often also seen as a form of decadence.meerabai before she was finally anointed as a saint, was actually almost killed for singing and dancing in public places with strange men. even popular bollywood movies have not refrained from making stories when the female dancer is just viewed as an element of lust, as an object pandering to a man's lust.

so then, what is the essence of a dance? How does he see himself? does he see himself as a person who is shamelessly drowning in sensual pleasures, catering to people who are drowning in them? im particularly talking of popular dance forms, which is what most laymen enjoy. (I doubt even dancers would be able to answer this one, cause dancers are not intellectuals, or masters with words, they don't have any need for intellectualism, and words are the only language, that a non dancer can understand).

About a month back, i was matching steps, that is, trying to match steps, with my dance teacher, when i noticed that somewhere she had sub consciously stopped teaching, and was lost in the dance, of a raunchy Bollywood number...she was in that instant, that dancing woman.

her expression as she danced,to a particular line was...well, how do i put it?.....she was 'shamelessly' pandering to the collective lust of all the imaginary men in a gathering...its like, she knew they were lusting for her,, she was enjoying their rapt attentive lust, she was gloating in her power and yet., she was not denouncing their lust, their manhood..she in fact was encouraging their 'lust'... giving it the rightful color of love.. color of passion..giving it the respectability it deserved...and though in reality, she was dancing for nobody in particular,at that point of time, through her dance,she was still speaking to each and every man present there.and, they all got the same message from her.. .she was teasing him and only him.drawing him out...seeking him.waiting for his love.... her eyes was for him only. he was her king, her lord. ....and all this she conveyed in that one single expression.

and that's when the penny dropped.This is the essence of a dance..a performance. dance is a medium to instantly break walls, between men and women.tear it down. dance communicates through unintended actions, an instant bonding of all human beings..it frees men and women from their tightly packed gender rules and regulations.it accepts lust is a natural emotion, something to be celebrated, not something to be ashamed of. where, men and women have the permission not to have to hide their sexual energies, behind cloaks of respectability.

Mr.Joy and Mr.Bliss

Mr.Joy and Mr.Bliss

A few years ago, i had met a good friend,whom i had lost touch with in a lift. he was at one point my friend philo guide kind of person, till we lost touch, in the busyness of city living...and on that day when we accidentally met again', and on being asked about the mandatory 'hows u doing?', i had replied..since we last met? i think im less hyper, less attached, more in control but im yet to meet Mr. Joy and Mr. Bliss, as promised by Shriman Osho. He had grinned.

Now years later, I remember this conversation. cause i think ive finally figured out who Mr.joy and Mr. Bliss are, or what makes them tick so as to put it.

Till now i had always believed that if and when, mr.joy and mr.bliss, would come to me,it would be a total silence. where there would be no chaos. only harmony.in every day living.

In fact,I even had a sneaking feeling that such a life wud be comatose, almost dead, what with neither lows of pain nor highs of pleasure effecting you, life in short would be reduced to just plain living.in one word, boring!...i mean how on earth could life be anything other than boring, if u removed pleasure and pain from the canvas?

today however, a new thought enters the head....bliss and joy are not absence of strife at all. its harmony within the strife. its a throbbing, pulsating way of living, cause all the emotions needed to make a person feel alive,is not subtracted. it doesn't mean u seek pain and pleasure to make life exciting, it doesn't also mean that there will never be the two Ps. the two Ps will always exist, co-exist. but bliss and joy ensures. that u don't lose is the ability to be exuberant each and every single day..each day is a bundle of experiences in exuberance. u are still connected to the source of positive energy, in spite of the strife. or the strife are part of the exuberance.

i dont know if im making sense, or even if il feel the same tomorrow, but yes this is the gyan for today

Patch of sunshine

Patch of sunshine

U were not
my first love
nor were u
my first kiss
but u were part,
of many other firsts

U were my first
Reckless joy
My first
Unconstrained freedom
First thrill of living
On the edge
First freedom of
Breaking tired rules

you were the first
whom i learn to trust
My bared naked soul with
the first to share
my secret shames
my petty sorrows

you were the first
To accept me
for whatever i was worth
warts and all
the first whom i loved
warts and all

u were the first
inspiration to love
Without being loved back.

U were my first glimpse
of living gloriously,
U were
my first Patch of sunshine!

lovability

All of us want to love on people who we think are lovable and worthy of our love..

this creates its own love deficiencies
.a vicious circle.....
the lovable keeps getting love, and becomes more and more lovable....
and because we wont want to love somebody who is not lovable..
the unlovable always remains unlovable....
an untouchable

is there any way out of this one? 

being loving towards such a person,  seems self defeating, mostly such people shut themselves from receiving love..they have so little faith in the sustainability of the love being offered.

i was once in this restaurant, where the waiter was a middle aged man of around 50..it was a small udipi restaurant, and this person (bare feet all the time...no idea why) who seemed a very efficient and a very senior guy, was going out of his way to be rude to everybody in general, it was so evident he seemed to have a bone to pick with the whole world, and daring the whole world to dare him to start something which would then give him the justification to hate the world...funny part was, even as he was being so unlovable, it seemed his every pore was crying, redeem me, love me in spite of myself...prove to me, that even i am worthy of being loved.

the least i cud do was not take offense at his rude behavior. not because i wanted to avoid a confrontation, but because that was the least i could do,..I  could not think of anything beyond this feeble gesture..

attitude of gratitudes

ever wonder how its possible, that people who come to u for help, forget to thank u, after their work is over..

it mainly because they were just using u as a tool to getting their immediate needs fulfilled. The have just seen u as an opportunity, to be exploited. not as an individual, to begin with. when u lose the capacity, to see people as people, its easier to let go of the need for gratitude.

kala bazar and sanju baba

Kala bazaar.

 The dev anand one.

 Story of a frustrated struggling to make ends meet young man who chooses the easy way out to make a quick buck ..

.subsequent change of heart, surrender and trial room drama. 

The lawyer thundering remose cannot be a reason for acquittal.


Sanjay dutt, bollywood, all confused people...

.that's your answer.

of being one's self

i think its time we accepted that , we are what we are, and if we could be somebody else, we would have been, and since we cant be somebody else...... thats why we are what we are..

.there is no use denying or fighting this simple fact.

rather it makes sense to be proud of whatever we are, and find peace in that.

running around trees ..bollywood style

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODY7lqcyBMI






 i kinda miss those days when Bollywood men and women ran in slow motion first towards each other, open fields, sometime tall trees, mountain, clear blue skies in the back ground, in the beginning of the song, then with each other, somewhere in the middle of the song, to glorious sunsets towards the end, before he turns to other important things like avenging his fathers death and stuff......

individuality

the concept of individuality is so absent, so effectively stifled, in certain groups, that even, u being u, is viewed as u being a rebel!

dreams

the most wonderful thing about a dream is that ..........u can walk a busy crowded street, see a railway station, wade through a flood, witness a durga immersion, observe a mad elephant, and his kind mahout, all in one dream, without any break in connectivity!

answers?

once again realizing that there are no easy answers in life and plus there is always the danger that the process of getting answers itself , may change the questions, and perhaps life for worse, but it is still important to get answers what ever the cost..

the gifts of answers is worth every price! at least unless u learn that questions are not important..

acknowledgement

sometimes i feel,
 all we want,
 is to be acknowledged,
 for what we are!

the heart of the matter

The heart is happy with whatever it gives or gets. The mind is the one that causes the unrest

love's container

The amount of love we receive also depends on our measuring devises. Smaller the container, lesser the love receivable.

post valentines' :P

and love bites the dust..post valentines :P

the heart of the problem

often our problem does not lie in not being able to say no, it lies in not being able to say it nicely.

love's call

here is this ache,
a longing,
so deep,
that I can hardly breathe.
My arms spread wide,
imploring.
Calling out to u.
Come to me.
I am overflowing. with love.
It beseeches of u...
Soak in me,
play with the droplets,
splash joyously,
Gloriously, drown in my love!

conquering darkness

conquering darkness

darkness
that is always around
eternal unrelenting
that is loved
cause we know no other
that is comforting
cause of its familiarity

darkness
is conquered by light
when we learn to love
when we learn to live
when we learn to trust
the universe.

tell me

Tell me how
I can please u,
Tenderly
I ask of my love

Always be happy
In my love, he coos
For that alone
makes me happy too

  arrogantly naive
Is my love,
which thinks
Of the favor
On my lover.

solitude

its the magic
of your love alone
that you are always with me
even when im alone.

and when we are together,
its our silences
that speaks the most
profound sentences.

your love is so pure,
it teaches me something new,
there is never a shadow
even in the parting from you.

sunshine silences

I try to pen
something that waxes eloquent
of my eternal love,
for u
something that
sends ur blood racing
gets ur heart soaring


i want to tell u
how my whole world
is filled with u,
how ur thoughts
rush to fill my mind
whenever its vacant,
how those thoughts
soothe and comfort me
how to cocoon me
from uninteresting every day sorrows

i want to tell u
how u fill my life
how u make countless flowers bloom
in my mundane mind
how I overflow with warmth
at your very mention
of how you make me happy
by just wanting to me mine.

i try to pen
something, but
what fills my head is
a warm contented sunshine silence!

when i first met u

when i first met u, it flashed
you held the key to my destination
how badly my soul needed you
for my emotional salvation

the worldly wise me
wanted to disregard the insight
continue on the not so uncomfortable road
in the familiar darkness of night

your promises I conveniently heard,
you coaxed me out of my lair,
vainly, i let u love me,
thinking that all was fair.

somewhere along, u taught me to love,
a love without clinging,love not so needy
a love that wants to give,
a love not so greedy.

love that is delightful,
pure and content,
love that placid, calm
love that is comfortably silent.

the churning

the churning

when i first met u, it flashed
you held the key to my destination
how badly my soul needed you
for my emotional salvation

the worldly wise me
wanted to disregard the insight
continue on the not so uncomfortable road
in the familiar darkness of night

your promises I conveniently heard,
you coaxed me out of my lair,
vainly, i let u love me,
thinking that all was fair.

somewhere along, u taught me to love,
a love without clinging,love not so needy
a love that wants to give,
a love not so greedy.

love that is delightful,pure and content,
love that is placid, calm, neat
love that is comfortably silent,
the churning is complete

the rainbow

the rainbow

u sometimes do
things that hurt anew
without a minute's thought
u dont even know u ought
to be tender-like smooth
to your lady love's worth!

the upheavals too
the mind is subjected to,
your thoughtlessness tears
unknown unexpressed fears
silently renting screams
of nearly dead dreams

it unwittingly stirs
the calm placid waters,
there is no refrain
to thoughts of an overwrought brain
it unsettles the delusion?
and muddies it to pollution.

and then my love,
innocently now,
you give the next while,
that guileless smile
and the sun once again
shines through the rain.

the missing piece

The missing piece

everybody in his limited span of life
longs to find that
elusive mystical missing piece

we all have our own brand of restlessness,
that one un solved something
which grips like vice, mind, and flesh

A ever hopeful quest,
pieces of the mind seeks,
Its a never ending thirst

A deep longing to finally fill
that sense of incompleteness
the last brick is the magic pill

We yearn,we hanker... we flounder
often, in the relentless search
a whole lifetime we squander

it constantly messes
with the present
and gnaws into the happiness

and yet, (we know best).
silly mortals.. are we never ever
Able to give the search a rest?.

The lull

the lull

not unexpectedly, it arrives
a stage of disappointing resignations,
the phase of thinning away
of sky touching aspirations

the foundations laid
the walls built thereon,
the roof firmly perched,
will it become a prison?

having walked together
this long, this far,
turning back impossible,
waste of invested hours.

the wind that blows, soothes,
yet nothing new to discover.
freshness take a beating,
very little left to uncover

familiarity kills tenderness,
hardens the heart to stone,
moss around the edges,
the rose tinted glasses gone!

what binds now
maybe it is care,
but its no longer just love
some of it is fear.

yes,its a new land indeed
of dulled, un voiced resignations,
when love gets classified
into world approving designations.

death

we
the living, old or new,
moving steadily
towards you.

the stupid,
the sincere,
the bad,
the feared

strolling, walking,
running, ambling,
pushing, pulling,
other times even smiling.

winning some,
some losing,
breezing at times
at times, cruising

our burdens
we often tighten,
other times we
do manage to lighten

the roads
may be weary,
but we cling
how so ever deary

you must find
these attempts feeble
smart mankind,
still unable

to conquer you,...death.

lonliness- my brand

one of my favorite topic..loneliness

for years, i've been trying to pin down whats loneliness means to me, and more importantly,what should I do, to shake off that off that awful stretching unending feeling of loneliness , whenever it grips me like some dark strong ruthless monster
..... while in the throes of such loneliness, and though it mite not last more than a couple of hours,  it seems like an never ending torture, and each time, i feel i may never survive it this time. but survive u do, until the next bout hits u.

when i look back, i don't remember ever feeling lonely during my pre- school and school days.

I think i got acquainted with this odd feeling loneliness after i joined college.

that's when i first realized i was not able to mingle with people that easily. i noticed that while most of the girls were able to form friendships with ease, i kept moving from one group to another, in a way, searching, so as to fit in somewhere easily smoothly, and though i found it easy to form some close friendships with some individual members of a group,I cud never adopt a group wholly.

i found that i didn't feel as energized ,while i was going through all the motions of listening, performing, all the activities that the people as a group performed as i did while interacting with individual members of the same group.

most of all, if i look back, what i remember most, was being hounded with this vague feeling of being almost always bored.

if i look back, i observe that marriage , motherhood, didn't change things much either, nor did my taking up of jobs. that vague feeling of boredom always persisted.

so then how do i define my brand of loneliness ? loneliness for me, is the feeling i have to face when im not able to get/ receive the kind of energy, i want, from whatever source the universe has to offer..the energy could come, say from a thought, or a book, or a movie, or even an advertisement, a stray remark....anything anything....

i can patiently fritter away a whole of my day's time, waiting for the suddenly unannounced appearing 'energizer' to weave its magic, and leave me replenished, till the coffers are empty again, but when im at the low end of the stock, and it takes its time coming to me, that's when i start to feel the pangs of loneliness.

i then scrounge for the energy, and the more i scrounge, the more lonely i feel..

the first thought

the first thought
when i see u again
is always
an uneasy one....
has anything changed since we last parted?

then u smile
the same smile
which u had
on your lips
when we last parted
and i know
nothing has changed

i drink you
with my eyes
and u drink me in
with your eyes

i wonder
what it is
you are thinking...
are u also wondering
if anything has changed?

i want to ask,
whats playing on your mind?
but i dont,
cause the expression
in your eyes
might change
and lest im left thirsty,

i watch u watch me
in silent wonder,
and i feel all loving
and all loved
all at the same time

and then I know what love is all about.

the wait

the wait

u sought me
cause u said
u loved me
and i loved u
cause u said
u loved me.
i took my time
loving u back,
but when i did
i loved u wholly
and it was natural
to love u
till u found
somebody else
to fill ur life
with brighter colors
my rainbows
seemed smaller
in comparison
now u are back
u say
u never stopped
loving me
i dont know
if im upto loving u again
i cant trust you
not to leave
me lonely again
and now if u want me
to love u back,
u will have to wait
patiently
like i had waited
somewhere
with my broken heart
for u to come back
and if u can also wait
indefinitely perhaps
for my heart
to heal
to cleanse itself
of the pain and sorrow,
caused by your love,
and love u back once again
as naturally
as before
then surely one day
our love would win

th