She's all that!

She is a cat! She hasn’t lost her wild instincts. She defies rules because rules are made for dogs. Ask her to sit, stay, run; she will ask you back, “Why?” And if you persist, she will still do what her will says. She lives in the society, but is wary of any new member. She is a social animal, but she likes to be by herself. She is independent, you forgot to feed her? Never mind, she’s caught herself a meal anyway. She has claws, she hides them well. If you pet her nice, she will purr, but only for so long as she wishes. If she doubts you, or if you are not doing it right, you remember the claws? She is free, she is the queen of her world!

She is a rock, a mountain. A big one. Immovable, small things don’t matter much to her.

She has jewels and precious minerals inside her, but she hates it when people want to come in with the intent to take it all away. People who come near her, try to dig caves and tunnels, but she won’t let them, like insides are just for her. She’d throw rocks at them if they try to.

Those closest to her are rivers. They are around her, they may shape a few of her curves, but they don’t get to seep deep into her. At times, she may feed them with some water, but not always.

She is a volcanic mountain, insides are boiling with so many things and ideas that keep her unstable. But from outside, she is snow-capped. She looks so cool. And her majestic nature makes her beautiful and at the same time intimidating.

And when there is a drizzle on that mountain, and the sun shines, there is a sweet smile in the form of a rainbow.

She is a free thinker. She has a crazy imagination. If she wished, she’d make her own world of fantasy! Where you could play drums in a library, where cars would run on water, where zebras would be spotted, where rainbows would have a million shades, where she could be a magician, where the moon would be triangular, where grown-ups would be kids, where children would never cry…

She is real, and her fantasies are real. She needs to know this, and she will… One day...

Sorry I am!

We met one fine evening

Me, in a tux and a bow.

She in her emerald gown

Radiant her glow.

In a few days, we knew it,

Forever we could go.

But some douche bag I was

Things hurt my ego.

She gave me her all

And all I said was 'no'!

Now I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

I need to lay low.

So here, take my stone heart

And bury it in the snow.

Coz I'm sorry

I never surrendered to love...

The Counselor

It was the second day Som sat sulking. Didn’t feel like doing anything, couldn’t pay attention to anything. The images on the TV moved and he sat staring at it blankly.

In comes the counselor friend, Nick!

One look and he knew what his friend was up to!

“Oye Hero, wassup? Valentine’s hangover?”

“Hmm.” That was all the reply Som could muster.

Nick walked straight to the fridge, grabbed a beer and plopped on the couch. Taking a sip, he said, “Ditched you? Wait, let me guess! Over the phone?”

Frustrated, Som asked, “What do you want?”

“Pass me those chips. And what is this shit you are watching? Hand over the remote.”

Som, wordlessly, did as he was bid.

The search for a good show was over and Nick’s mind was free to ask.

“So tell me, did she say: ‘It won’t work’ or ‘I don’t want to hurt you anymore?’”

“You are the enlightened one! You have guessed enough already, make more guesses!”

Nick reduced the volume of the TV and said, “Listen! From one friend to another - no one will give you this knowledge for free. Experience and life have taught me all this. So take it.

“It was your first love! First love is good. Great if it is her first too. Well, that doesn’t mean it comes with a guarantee! But yeah, you can enjoy it.

"The second one though is an eye opener. You realize love is not that fairy tale you thought of, or if your first love relationship was pleasant, this second one is remote from pleasant. Again exceptions prove the rule. Some need many second ones for their sleepy eyes to open. They are the more hopeful lot. A sprinkle of water is not enough sometimes. A full pail is required.

But yeah, it is rough. Either the other person is just playing with you, or so you think. Or simply that you think this is not the love that you want.

“Third love is a myth. Don’t get me wrong, there can be third relationships. The part of you that wants to love is dying. And you don't want the guilt. You feel you are becoming more and more like your first. So you don't want that third. You don't want more people to blame you. Like you blame them. Your conscience is hurting already for having fallen for the 2nd time. For you had hopes. I’d rather say perhaps coz you were brave. But now it is different. You might be brave, I don't doubt it. But there is a side that is keeping you from tormenting someone. Like you were betrayed.

"Suddenly all of it becomes clear to you. Why your first acted the way she did. You realize that you walked in the same shoes. And you regret for what you think you did. You know how much it had hurt you and can only imagine how much it would've hurt your 2nd.

"You start to see yourself in a very negative light. You feel no one deserves you because you are getting more and more like the person you once hated. And you hate yourself for that. But that doesn't help. In no way will it ever do. You will run away from people who are attracted to you. You feel like the flame. You see the moth coming to you, but for all you know, it will be better off at a distance, feel the warmth, get some light. The closer it gets, you will burn it, and you will kill that innocent creature.”

Som interrupted, “And you speak all this with experience?”

“Oh yeah, totally! I used to be the moth. Now I am the flame!”

“You recognize the problem; please enlighten me with the solution too!”

“Only one solution! Stop the blame game. Que sera sera! Focus on other things, read, take a vacation, go out. The last thing on your mind right now should be getting in a relationship.

“Before that, I’d ask, ‘Do you know why she broke up?’”

“Yeah. She told me what made her decide. Not that I believe it but yes, she told me some stuff!”

“Ok. Try to understand her position, see if the pondering helps you believe the reason she gave, and take it - satisfactory or not. If she wants to be with you, she will be back. And don’t act foolish if she does come back! If you are with someone then, reject her offer, but be friends! Remember the days you were together and how happy you were. Crunch, crunch, crunch. But my words are not final. You can find love as frequently and easily as you get a six on a fair die! Trivia time: in archaic English, die is to have an orgasm. Anyway, talking of a fair die, actually life is both fair and unfair based on how you look at it.”

TV was the only source of voice for some time before finally Nick said, “Damn I should be a counselor!”

Wanderlust

As he kissed my forehead that night,

I had slept with a smile on my face.

But when I had woken up, he was gone.

Somewhere between that last smile and the morning,

He had left. Where to? I knew not.

From the day I truly knew him,

I had feared that I'd see this day.

He was not the one who could be tethered.

He was born to be free, to go out there.

And today, a year has passed since that day,

I have waited every sundown.

Expecting to hear from him, to see him.

I have craved to meet the man I love.

He wanted to travel, all over the world.

I know not where he might be now

Maybe Paris, maybe Alaska, or perhaps in India.

All I know is I must find him, be with him.

I shouldn't have stayed, bound to safety.

So now, I am setting out.

With a hope that our paths will cross,

Someday, somewhere, if it is destined.

Serendipitous perhaps...

He loved to wander...

I wander for love...

Memoires

Reorganizing your stuff is not always a pleasant idea, but at the end when all looks sorted and nice, it gives immense satisfaction and pleases the mind. Not always though.

Yesterday was that exception. I came across the little CD she'd given when we parted. Full of songs that portrayed her feelings.

I realized I'd been staring at it a long time before I decided to play it. Loud enough that I was swaying to the jazz and swing and 60s-70s rock and pop.

All was good till it came to the ABBA song 'Hasta Mañana'. Words are like stones, they can sharpen a mind like sword and they can also shatter the heart of glass.

Luckily, the feeling lasted only for the length of the song. Perhaps because following it was the mambo number 'Sway'. And all was good and I cheered up again.

Some more songs saw my desk and wardrobe all assorted. Some songs that made me dance, some that caught me staring into emptiness. But it was done now. And the disk was to be shelved again.

If not the sorted wardrobe, then at least the fatigue makes sure you sleep well. Maybe not as well as the idiomatic 'baby's sleep'. Perhaps because babies don't have to organize their stuff. Long since my mother did it for me.

But I slept well. No dreams, no nightmares. Good sound sleep.

I had slept alone, tired. But I woke up with her thoughts. Thoughts that could disturb the whole day, make it difficult to focus on your work. They were there, there I was. And there she was, far away.

I had thought I don't care anymore, that I didn't give a damn. But the fact was that I did. And it took just a few songs to remind me of that. A few harmless, melodious tunes but lethal words.

What can I do now? I better keep that CD shelved.

Have I told lately, that I love you. Have I told you there is no one else above you. Fill my heart with gladness, take away all my sadness. Ease my troubles, that's what you do...

Perhaps not anymore. No more.

Apollo and Dionysus

They argued, they fought.

He loved it. She hated it.

He was the critique, she was the connoisseur.

He cursed the flaws, she appreciated the efforts.

He wanted everything to be precise, she believed that feelings need to be true.

He liked the presentation, she liked the essence.

He emphasized on screenplay, dialogues meant a lot to her.

He was the mind, she was the heart.

He was the Sun; she was the moon.

Apollo and Dionysus.

Best friends they were, separated by all the known dimensions - space, time…

But the portal connecting their hearts was intact,

Unknown to the society, warping the beliefs.

The spark remained, perhaps never to be ignited.

Cross my heart. Not!

At first he was skeptical. Often when she had called him urgently, her talks were intimidating and that ended up making everything awkward. Not that she was condescending but she was realistic, practical. And that was his worst fears. And so today when she said she wanted to talk, he was scared, for he knew not what new blast of reality he would have to brave.

He reached the old fort and waited. She called on his phone to know where he was and minutes later, he saw her.

He hated these moments. No actually he dreaded them. How could he hate any moments spent with her. When he saw her, she beamed a smile at him and he knew things were different today. His fear was slowly evanescing. After a brief hug, they sat at their regular bench, gazing out at the city lights starting to come up. She eventually broke the silence around the birds returning home and the sun going down.

She had come up with an idea, a thought. And she wanted to tell him about it directly, tête-à-tête. Not on a phone call, nor through texts. She said, "You know, I don't know what we are doing with our lives." These words made the ghost of his fears start to materialize again. But she continued, "When in my teens, I would chat with my friends and all of us would believe in the happily ever after story. That all things will be good. That true love was not just true and pure, but also flawless, impeccable. Like Walter White's meth." Although that drew a laugh between them, he was not sure where this was going.

She said, "I would think me and my love, we would be like parallel lines. Always together."

He interrupted, "But parallel lines never meet?"

She replied, "Yes, but they are always heading the same way. Okay, imagine that the lines are parallel but they are only a teeny tiny distance apart."

He nodded his approval waiting for a glimpse of clear skies to know where they were heading.

She continued, “But you see, as I grew up, as life started turning from rainbow to shades of grey, I realized those parallel lines don’t exist. It’s an irrational thought.

“But then, you would not want to be intersecting lines too. Along all the paths that they tread on, they meet just once, only to move further away from each other after that. I have had such an experience. Sometimes you wish things were different, sometimes you feel it was necessary. Believe me the few moments that you are closest are the best that one can have, then there is the intersection and parting forever. Here, life does not ask you questions. It is you ask those. Bombard life with questions like: why did this happen, when will this happen, why is he not with me, why did our paths cross in the first place? But are there any set of lines which you would want to be?

“I would always ponder over until this afternoon. This afternoon, I found out what it is between us. You know, we are like the Sine and Cosine waves of the same amplitude, and our wavelengths like totally match. At most times, travelling parallel, then we intersect, and after some moments of bending and mending our ways, we run parallel again. And this goes on and on… Forever…”

He did not know what to say. His confused face made her repeat, “We’re like Sine wave and Cosine wave, parallel at most times, yet intersecting at times infinite!”

He still failed to understand why he was called there to meet with this level of urgency. He did not understand her at times, at times she was a riddle. But if she was the Riddler, he was no Batman, he was just her man!