Monday 11 March 2024

Him #7

His love language is exotically adorable! He isn't the one who would sing about his love from the rooftops. He is painfully shy and logical. He is definitely not someone who will flood her space with sweet, mushy words or type too many irrelevant, sugary sentences when they chat on the social media. He knows, those things are not quite consistent. And he has always loved gifting her consistency as a mark of respect for his affection towards her. He is the one who watches her from the corner of his eye, observing every little thing she does. A giant of a man who has the world at his feet, adores her enough to ask her to be careful when she is standing at some hidden corner of a room, comically balancing herself to wear her shoes. When her glasses fog and she is registering how to get it cleaned, he gets her a tissue paper despite being engrossed in work. When she sneezes, his hand reflexly switches off the fan. No words, mind you. When she's sick, he rushes to give her the medicines at midnight. No hugs or kisses but lucid instructions on how to take them. When she tells him that she misses him, he thinks for a while and tells her the feasible time to meet instead of saying that he misses her too. Always the problem solver! He expresses his sweet essence sometimes. And the way he does, nobody can. He doesn't write about eternity, soul dissolving embraces, tender kisses or dreamy moments but he writes about a realistic future with her by his side, hoping she will remain till he breathes his last. She, who did not believe in knights in shining armours, has found a rare one. His armour is slightly rusted for he has been fighting wars since a long time. And that is why, he is perfect.

Sunday 3 March 2024

Why I Run?

Not to outrun pain, I run to avoid its soulless sting
I chase the cryptic whispered promise of the rain
And hope to find home, and the final healing it will bring
A flowing stream, I wish to be a forgotten dream
I ascend like the sun to cast off the void of the realm
The unknown beckons, I fly like the hawk in the sky
Pushing boundaries, I will seek what the heart desires,
And how long would I run?
Till the oceans dry and the grey sky incessantly cries



Sunday 11 February 2024

Her #6

She is more often wrong than right due to the innate paranoia obscuring clarity. And she is impatient to know all the answers immediately. Then she has to immediately decide on a course of action. When truth finally shows up, she almost faints with embarrassment.

He told her the most beautiful thing she has ever heard in her 37 years of life. It isn't, 'I love you'. That, he demonstrates better in so many ways. He said that he sees her as the same entity that he is within while he has his inner dialogues. That's a priceless thing to be told. Perhaps the most intimate thing which is beyond any eternal concept of love and togetherness. To be someone's mental counterpart is a unique privilege.

This is where the divide between him and her is relinquished. This is where the boundary between 'to be' and 'not to be' is lost. This is where the barriers that cause conflicts get lost. This is where shadows meet the souls and souls meet the source. This is where they are irrevocably one.

Saturday 3 February 2024

Her #5

That blue flame burning in his eyes, restless and wild, is beautiful to behold. One that he protects so fiercely, with all his might. She likes the way he describes the lively essence of his solitude - The lone, peaceful crocodile in the swamp, patiently waiting for its prey. It is whole in itself, and needs no validation. She, however, does not want to be the swamp fern he floats by whenever he wishes to. She is the hornbill, she belongs to the sky. Do you know an interesting fact about hornbills? They are not meant for solitude. They are known to pair up and build a cozy home. The lovelorn female hornbill knows no life if her mate does not return.  

Let us celebrate the differences but also remember that the crocodile and the hornbill cannot end up together.

Sunday 31 December 2023

At The Year's End

Memories, their threads of vibrant hues,
Weave our story of this year's journey through, 
Rainy nights, in fleeting car lights, eyes cast a shy glance 
They play hide-and-seek, fluttering hearts together dance.

Tales fragrant of jasmine tea unfold with glee, 
A smile blooms, while your poems carry me,
Into their deep warmth, where cool winds find ease, 
And the painful chaos of the souls cease.

Spellbound nights, whisper in the air, 
We remain entwined, in a world beyond compare. 
Mountains conquered, storms faced, hand in hand, 
No fear or doubt live in this promised land.

Stream of memories trickles down, and another year takes flight, 
We will write new songs, bathed in the brightest light. 
My hand in yours, hearts close together, this love stays, 
One that transcends time, while it dreamily sways.

Tuesday 26 December 2023

Home - A Secret Wish

At 7, home meant the cozy, warm house where mother in her pink cotton saree would be preparing potato fritters while father, in his white kurta pyjama would be busy calculating the monthly expenses. While brother played with his 'hot wheels' in the living room, I would be watching the newly hatched baby sparrows on the electrical box at the verandah with dreamy eyes, fantasizing about a new home.

At 19, home was the shared hostel room where I would be lying inside a blanket, embraced by white noise created by the rain, reading the mushiest romantic novel of the time and fantasizing about a new home.

At 29, home was a cozy apartment, with a partner. A warm abode where school friends and family came over to play poker, and remember old days over a drink and a warm meal. Home was a space which was carefully created with a lot of love knitted into every corner. But this time, I did not fantasize about a new home.

At 37, when I handed the reins to the divine while I rested to heal; it took me to a new home, yet again. Home was stillness, but this time it was within me. Can I say I am finally home? Not yet. I wish for all of the above in this new abode. When I say all, it means the warm, fuzzy shared love, dreams and companionship, along with the stillness within.

Wednesday 20 December 2023

You Were There...

You were there...

When I walked into this strange world; an unfriendly, indifferent world
You held my hand when I stumbled
You noticed the tears that stubbornly refused to spill out,
Ones that created a mayhem deep within me

You were there...

You protected me from the bone chilling storm
And created a safe haven...
You gifted me happiness and peace, once elusive dreams
You were there to lift me up into the skies
You were there to pull me out of murky seas

You were there...

And even without words, you made me feel loved...
When you were vulnerable, when you prayed for me
When my pain made you restless...
When your soul engulfed mine in darkness,
When you strewed happy stories all around
When you listened to a hundred unfounded fears
Without budging, to let me know, how much I meant...

You were there, my love. Always.

As long as I extend my hand and find you, I shall live
Because if I lose you, I will be lost too.