living dead

she threw the cup of water on him. "so is this why you will never find love in your life ? a girl who cannot live upto your gold standards, stop living in the past". wiping his face, his normally smiling face turned a bit soft probably knowing what she is going to come up with next. "you are living in the past, let her go. it was 10 years ago damnit." trembling a bit he said, "what are you talking about". her rage only grew, "you very well know whom i am talking about. i dont know how she did it but for someone who has moved on she has captured your imagination. i dont think youll be able to love anyone and i dont think you love yourself." slamming the door shut she walked out on him, someone she loved for the last two years.

he wiped his face and sat down. ten years ago she had told him, you know both of us are just the same. we dont want to end it, we dont know how to quit. and now he realized it is true but was left in the dark. he opened his email account and went through those conversations. he understood why he could not quit. it was everything, everything he ever wanted. time was not present when they were together. it was magical, it was natural. she understood him like no other, he could undertand her like no other. he could read her thoughts, she completed his sentences. it was soulmates in the true sense. she was funny and thoughtful. teasing and intuitive at the same time. with him she was fun, serious, intelligent, creative, ambitious, caring .. everything he admired. she inspired him to be himself and more. a great capacity to absorb and give. they completed each other. it was intense , it was crazy , it was left incomplete. he knew she had moved on, as probably girls do with a happily-ever-after. here he was haunted by yet another road not taken and drowning himself in the past.

"i met a girl, she said one thing. i said another. and before i knew it i wanted to spend the rest of my life in the middle of that conversation. she makes me smile in a way that is highly neurotic, makes me think, makes me challenge myself, makes me love. it is you. the bad news is i dont know how to be with you right now. its a big bad world out there. and people have a way of blinking. blinking and missing the moment .. the moment that could have changed everything."

californication.

7th heaven

"india is drowning" he said, smoking from his cigarette and the music from the laptop filled his senses. "i felt it then yet here i am knee deep in pointless self loathing". here it comes she thought, another diatribe how the fucking great things in life were missed by him. and that the world around him exists in superficial boredom that he could not care less about, her included. the worst part was that she agreed with him. she longed for him to look at her the way he looked at that photo.

he launched into his drivel, about the amazing conversation he had which made him forget the past, the future and the present. he was just in the moment looking at her, listening to her. he stopped for a bit. what would you do he asked if your every instinct, every gut feeling made you feel that you should be there with her and not here. how would you feel when you realize that every thought and all the senses were caught in that moment and the only way to feel better was to relive the moment. feel natural again, when you feel so amazing with a person everything else begins to feel like an insane lie.

she knew that his obsession would falter into a broken man built again by her. yet she waited for him to obsess one last time for her, write her a poem and immortalize her beauty like he did. she drank whatever was left of that vodka. as she pushed herself against the couch, she felt like she was standing at the edge of a volcano desperate to feel something. humanity lost what is real and she wanted to feel something , anything .. that she made the same mistakes over and over again. fucking till the end of time.

achieve

as he lay slumped across the desk, he slowly felt a drowsy feeling take over him. he slowly checked the time, he assumed he could give himself 15 minutes of sleep. he was tired, his mind was tired, his body was tired. felt a little weak but that mattered little now. his unconcious took over.

and he woke with a start, his eyes were trying to adjust to the bright light inside the room. his sheets of paper lay to the left , with a pen still in his hand. he looked at the computer screen slowly, it was 7 minutes past the 15 minutes he thought about. his head felt a little dizzy, his mouth dry and his body weak. it was past 4 in the night. he could not afford to waste any more time.

splash ! the cold water on his face stung like ice needles. but it woke him up .. to reality. having a room right next to the toilet was useful. he washed his face a bit more and looked in the mirror.

he looked at himself, his face. his eyes open but red in color. his mouth set upon flatly on the skull, unshaven face did not do him justice. he held the basin as he tried feeling normal again. he looked straight into the mirror, and wanted all his strength to come back. his head was slumping, his eyes weary were trying to close again. cold water again.

this was what he wanted. he had to do it. he could not be distracted, it was the moment for him to create something. he had to work that there was no choice. he was alone but it did not matter. the images around him seemed like a blur. but he knew what he was doing and why he was doing this. his future was at stake, as he sat down he counted on every reserve of strength he might have in his body. he knew this was it, his passion .. his dream. dreams of reality. the dream was huge which made him a little quiet when he thought about it. it was his own , not to be shared.

he slumped down on the chair again and yawned. he stared at the computer screen , and started typing .. and then he was typing. and typing while getting into the flow. the screen seemed hallucinating but he had to do it. it was his passion,


to be contd. 

of kin and kith

slung across his back was the small bag which carried enough for a weeks stay. he walked along the dusty path in the hot sun. it was afternoon and the sweat was slowly soaking his tshirt. the road almost became unfamiliar, but he knew the familiar house .. the house that mattered. as the cars and bikes went past him he could not help but sense a deja-vu.

he rang the bell and looked around him. there was still something he could recognize. the palm trees, the green grass on the small garden to his left. but the concrete floor remained, the basis for much of ...

a creaking sound and the door opened. a old lady, thin but with a wide smile stood with her arms open. dropping his bags he embraced his grandmother. it was homecoming really, it felt good. the familiar smell of pickles and spices.

drinking the last sip of the coffee he sat on the stairs and stretched his body. after lengthy conversations with his grandparents which always revolved around about him getting proper food to eat he finally had chance to sit outside. it was 5 in the evening and the gentle breeze was blowing across the city. people were walking, in their worlds, not even noticing someone is observing everything. he thought about his next day when he was rudely interrupted by a message on his phone.

"still the same, my love to grandparents" from his cousin.

he smiled. looked around. this was the place, images flashed and it took him to a time where he longed to go back to. innocent. sweet. free.

images of him in his young days, with 10 other cousins of his running around this place. he was the eldest, and instructions ran from him. plans were made. food was procured for the night. money was negotiated with grandfather, while the really young cousins were strictly instructed not to reveal anything to their parents. plans were revealed on the secret party to be held in the last room of the house so as to be undetected.

secrets were shared. lifes were dissected, laughter all around. music and dance. with no thought to the future they lived the moment. nothing could go wrong, they thought. they were with their grandparents, wise and capable with whom they were secure in living. the food was had together, while talking about tales from school. teachers were made fun of, while movies were analyzed. and at the end of the night, as they stole their way to the terrace with enough to bite for the night, a single thought remained. sitting next to each other in complete silence as they gazed at the stars they thought is this how simple life could be ? 

solitude and loneliness

for there is such a thing
such as loneliness
but there is such a thing
such as solitude

loneliness much trampled upon
and detested and deriled
by the high and mighty
by the strong and weak

solitude is beauty
that separates life from imperfection
that is embraced with open arms
that is longed for by many a troubled heart

as i sat there
looking into the vast expanse of green fields
with the glassy sheet of water upon the lake
the sunrays bouncing of the crystal clear water
and the trees creating the reflection

i longed for both loneliness and solitude
loneliness made me sad
solitude gave me peace
tired of running for
i wanted to run away

run into the world that was lonely
and decorated with solitude
the grief of loneliness
is much better than the grief of a
heart without wine to dine

in those moments as i sat in contemplation
there was not a thought
nor a idea that arose from my troubled mind
as i reveled in my solitude with peace
the familiar loneliness creeped over my back.

moment of understanding

of what is life
the purpose
the goal
the ideal
the reason

confounding masters and students
for centuries
debated by men and women
for ages

every passing age brings
a reason
every philosophical hero brings
an answer

but near we are not
it would be but a folly
to accept that the answers
answer the questions of all

no answers nor explanations
can quench the thirst of an inquisitive mind
there lies no limit to the imagination
of what life can bring to life itself

as we sit across the ocean
waves beating on the rocks
with the sun shining on our bodies
quiet comfort in the solace of understanding

that moment frozen in a foreign land
with the wind blowing away the strands of hair
to reveal your pearly smile
and those magnetic eyes

that moment gave me the answer
of what is life but its vagaries
which is the beauty that fills
every moment and every life.