Illusion

These linear roads,
make me search...
and my eyes
they choose to follow you,
across this vast-
ocean of life.
And you,
like the Pied Piper of Hamelin,
Lead me on.
Without awareness- towards the unknown.

And here, I wait,
for the spell to break-
Just this once.
I want to be aware,
awake and still-
follow you,
in all my burning desires.

There-
there you are,
evading me,
against the turquoise of the evening sky;
against the deep blue that fills up,
my half-closed eyelids;
Lurking, waiting,
taking flight even before I have a chance
 to give form to your presence.

Your Presence in me

As Tara sat waiting, alone in the hospital room, the only name that reverberated in her mind was Shlok’s. She thought of calling him and seek the comfort of his presence on that dreary day, which was about to change their lives. But the anger and pain inside her stopped her from doing so. She couldn’t bring herself to eve dial his number, let alone talks to him. The voice in her head screamed out to her once more if she was sure of what she was about to do. The peach colored walls of the hospital room seemed dreary and lifeless. For some reason, the colors in her life had ceased to exist. Hardly few minutes had passed when a nurse appeared, a folded blue paper gown in her arms and reminded Tara that she was not allowed to eat or drink anything before the operation and asked Tara to get ready. Promising to be back soon the nurse left her sitting there, the cold of the steel chair seeping in through her skin. Tara wondered if the nurse had a child, how she felt to meet women everyday who came in there – signs of tender life glowing in their wombs to be to be scraped out

 Just like Tara had.

Taking a deep sigh, she got up from the chair and put on the gown the nurse had left there. The paper gown, felt cold against her skin. As she sat waiting, her mind started throbbing trying to drown down the voice of reason which seemed to be screaming at her every now and then. Tara was aware of her heart beating fast against her chest wanting to explode. Just then the nurse entered the room quietly and smiled at her. It was the signal she had been dreading, that it was time.

But to Tara, suddenly everything became clear. In that single moment, her mind attained a clarity that she had been looking for. Clarity of the choice she wanted to make and what she should do. She picked up the denim skirt and the white floral t-shirt she had carefully folded a little while ago and rushed to the restroom. When she re-appeared five minutes later she realized that the nurse was bewildered and shocked.

“The doctor is waiting for you” the nurse said.

“Tell them I have decided. I want this baby” Tara replied.’

And with that Tara rushed out. The streets were desolate and empty when she emerged from the hospital and dialed her husband’s number. The call went through after the third ring and she screamed into the phone even before Shlok had said hello.

“I didn’t do it. I am keeping the baby. Even if you don’t want to, but I can’t let a part of me go- just like that” Tara said hot tears streaming down her face, laughing at the same time. When Tara had finally disconnected the call, she felt her heart was at peace. My Baby she thought. And with that she felt a warmth fill her up. And for the first time she realized that she had fallen in love with a presence, even without knowing. Such was her love- complete and replete with the essence of peace; one that knew no limits and gave her the strength- to hold on.

The scent of a Wildflower

Oh! How I hated you for being so insensitive, for saying those things that I just couldn't hear. Each word bore its mark deeper than a dagger. Technically it was our first fight... But when you stood in front of me, all the anger, all the ego that had lurked at the brink of my consciousness faded away- as if its presence was a mere illusion. I never knew that understanding desire would be so contradicting - in itself. 

In that open space, sitting under the night sky, the tension that hung in the air, as our fingers barely touched, “Desire” was in fact the last thing on my mind. My entire body, my limbs, seem to shiver; yet somehow when amidst the crowd of hundreds surrounding us, you lean forth towards me, you somehow transfer all your strength in me. 

There are a million ways to make love, they say; but looking into your eyes and losing myself in the depths that exist within it, would have been the only way I would have wanted it. Desire, masks itself in various forms, and yet when you stop the car in the middle of the road, to let me have a peak into the night sky, your hands- gently touching mine to help me adjust the seat- I feel the gentleness in the desire that emanates from you. We both are well aware that this might destroy us- me and you, and still this forbidden fruit of passion and love is so alluring. By now we know that we can't spend the night away from each other. 

As I lay in your arms, I feel that no place is safer- safe enough to calm down my demons. Though my eyes are closed, I can feel your hands on my face- caressing me gently as a child, putting me to sleep. Uninvited tears try to escape the corner of my eyelids, and as you realize this and place a kiss on my forehead, I feel the seed of pure desire building up in me. Your lips trace the ink on my back, as I try to explain its meaning to you. "The soul is free" it says and yet in this moment, I feel bound to you- by love and emotions unexplained.  My head feels heavy and I am confused whether it’s my heart (the hormones could have been a better answer though- easy to understand). 

I have no clue, why this (us?) feels so right. All I know is that when you hold me down playfully, your eyes speak of depths, of love that can transfer me somewhere I know only you can take me. And then the realization dawns, that making love is not about being naked. Caught between my thoughts and the reality of your existence, I somehow drift off into a state of slumber; and yet I am aware that you have been awake the entire time. The moans of my own desire seem to reach me from a distant place. It’s the wee hours of the morning now, some uneasiness jerks me back to reality and a sigh escapes my lips. I am shivering and then I find you, holding me more closely than I would have thought possible, calming me down. I am afraid of the dawn now, for I will have to go away from you I know.

I turn my back towards you, not wanting you to see the tears that roll down my cheeks. But then I feel your hands on my back- giving me a sensation of peace that now I will always associate with only you. 

As I look at myself in the mirror, my eyes seem different- as if they belong to some stranger. What exactly have you done to me? Made me fall in love with you? My lips are swollen...And the marks on my neck, do not embarrass me. It feels fulfilling to belong to you so completely that even in you absence I can feel us together.

Me and you- so different,

You - so distant from me,

Yet your presence stays in me like the scent of a 

Wildflower. 

Stranger than a dream...

Dreams are manifestation of the thoughts that belie our subconscious mind. Each night humans dream of numerous things, yet they remember only a few of them. And even those gradually fade away, slipping away from our grip. The harder we try to remember, the more it evades and eventually it is forgotten in its entirety. There is eventually no way that we could record and keep a track of the things we’ve dreamt of.  What is it about dreams that make them so enigmatic, so nebulous that even though we try we cannot hold on to them.

What would happen if someday we realize that the days we have been spending were just another dream we had been living. And what would happen if the dream chose to break itself, move on and make us wake up to reality. Would we try to hold onto it and still spend our entire life running after it, just because it seemed so charming, try hard to turn it into our reality again.

Imagine meeting a person who seems to have walked right out of your dream, everything he does, says seems perfect: not flawless, but you come to love those imperfections. You learn to appreciate the depth the person has towards life, towards you. And you bond immediately, a bond so strong that you seem surprised that you were capable of such trust, capable of surrendering your soul in its entirety to that stranger whom you just met.

You are unable to decide if it’s still a part of a dream or a living reality. The way his hand slightly holds onto yours. The way he holds you in his arms and caresses you when you are asleep. The way his lips curve in to accommodate yours, smiling ever so slightly. Nothing seems new or strange, it feels that everything has been this way for ever. The way he looks at you at dawn, the room slightly illuminated by the first rays of the sun makes you feel beautiful beyond words.

But remember the first time? When your hands touched accidently, and you feel the spark. Even though we know in reality that Edward Cullen couldn’t stop Bella’s heartbeat, with his passionate kiss, yet that’s the one moment you feel that it didn’t seem impossible. And before you know you are so much into that feeling of attachment (love?) . Madly, Insanely and Irrevocably.

As the night draws in, slightly creeping away towards the first steps of dawn, you feel the mist coming on. But you are lost in the land of this mist, its beauty enhances the minutest details of the landscape around you. Before you are aware the sun is high up in the sky, melting away the fog, the mist.

And you find the stranger is gone.

Only your window pane holds the remnants of the stranger’s existence. You still wonder, what was it, so strange, so beautiful.

Stranger than even dreams.

A crazy little thing...called love

Kris stirred restlessly as the first rays of the dawn crept in through the glass window. She was asleep, but her mind was suddenly alert, awake, and refused to let her go back to the deep slumber. She tried to move her hand and stretch, but then she realized that she was being held, held in a warm embrace. She opened one eye and saw Nick’s profile shifting ever so slightly as he breathed peacefully. She could still smell in the lingering traces of love in the room that surrounded them. She could remember the tenderness of the passion they had shared the night before. As she looked at him, she felt a deep chasm that opened in her soul, a different kind of need to protect his sleeping form, the need to sneak inside his heart and stay there. The pain returned, the abomination that she would have to leave soon, that their time together was somehow running out and she closed her eyes stifling a deep sob that rose inside her. She didn’t realize that perhaps this man had some form of enchantment to know her inside out even in his sleep. He released her in his sleep, and shifted his form closer to her, encircling her entire body by his. Bringing her close to his heart, he rested her head on his arms, slightly not waking up as he did so. She felt the heaviness in her heart disappear, replaced by a slight tingling of increased heartbeat, the kind that comes with victory, the kind that comes with hope and the realization dawned onto her how this felt like a safe haven, a place of refuge to her decaying soul. She found herself looking at Nick’s face, wanting this moment to last, realizing that this was the tiny little thing people so exaggerated and called love

The moon has always been a source of mystery to me. It's symbolic association with romance and mythical creatures like vampires and werewolves in itself bestows an aura of enigma around it. Unaware , of the fact that the arrival of the summer solstice would coincide with the full moon, an uneventful  evening walk to a grocery store rendered me one of the greatest pleasures of all time. Imagine walking by,  lost in your own thoughts and there it is, an orange-yellowish orb staring at your face from the night sky. The sheer beauty of the moment is mesmerizing. I am aware that the moon has its phases, but the delicate and faint glow emanating from the full moon , was not something I was prepared for. Someone then mentioned that this was the "strawberry moon". Digging through revealed interesting facts about its namesake  (http://www.cbsnews.com/news/strawberry-moon-arrives-with-the-summer-solstice/), but what is surprising is the rarity of this event that won't happen again till 2062.
A slice of the moon for all the stargazers and nature lovers.

A late evening visit to a french bakery today (http://lamadeleine.com/), led me to think that what is it about these small, quaint bakeries that seems to tug at my heart. France has always been epitomized as a center for culture, romance , fashion and has been touted for its cafe culture. The cafes have been an integral part of the French culture, evolving from a place of gathering for the intellectuals to meet, a place where artists could showcase their works, a place where writers could shed their melancholy to a place where people simply flock in to spend a lazy afternoon with family or friends. It is the beautiful decor of this place that pulls me towards it time and again. The traditional intimate interior done in wood and the outdoor sidewalk seating each has a distinct ancient feeling to it, binding me to the culture and heritage of France at once. Whether you are a quiet book reader, or are just interested in watching people , these cafe offer solace to each wandering soul , almost "teleporting" you to a different era of peace and happiness.