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Posts Tagged ‘romance’

Yes, I said, many times over
I know not what direction
My love will take
And in what ways it will express
Itself in time.

For love is a visitor
residing in us in many forms
fluidly traveling in directions
beyond our control.

What if –
What I feel for you is love
Not caged in the boundaries
Of our bodies?

At one time
We made love in darkness
Pulling the curtains over
So that only our bodies
Expressed what we felt in our hearts.

Then, we made out
In broad day light
When both of us could see
each other’s bodies and face
We had moved from darkness to light we said.

But now sitting in Silence
over distances
when we both can see
only the impression we made on camera
posted on Facebook…

What if
With our eyes closed
over distances
with neither our hands
or our legs intertwined
we still do what we used to do
In darkness and in light of day…

What if
As pure energy
we still meet
In spaces that defy
Boundaries and definitions …

Would our orgasm
be tremours that last forever
and eternity?
Or would our energies commune
In silence while we sit still
Grasping each other in our thoughts
And say,

We made love.

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Rain drenched forests

And reasoned roads

Lead to anti-thesis of goals


It might have rained emotions

All night through

The rain drenched

Leaves of the mind look

Fresh and green

But reasoned roads

Colour the vision

To the hues of sunset

At early dawn

Alas! Rain drenched forests

And reasoned roads

Lead to anti-thesis of goals

*Sigh*

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I need a shower of poison
A shower of love
That blinds me
Binds me
Kills me
To my old self
I need a shower
Of yantras-mantras
A deep schism to fill
So deep
That it can pour out the hell –
The flesh burning
Passion licking the sky
Of my innards
I need the shower of poison
In my bones
To release me from purgatory
Of body yelling for
A release

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What is this power you require
to get out of yourself
in a relationship
with yourself, in the other?

 

What is the speed you require
to crash land in the aerodrome
within yourself, without hurting yourself?

 

What is the power you need
to unfasten your own belt
and dare to throw yourself
to gravity, from sky high?

What is the escape velocity
you need to leave behind the shackles
that you choose to bind yourself with?

 

She has not said yes, nor has she said no; she has not accepted, nor has she rejected; she has not been there, nor has she not ventured away from it; I wonder, why my patience is running low, my anger rising…

 

Love is, but a happening; it is not in our hands to decide whom and where. Why am I aching for her, when she has neither said yes, nor looked away, to indicate she does not care?

 

I saw the first shivers on the lace curtains on my door. I trembled in my heart. I waited. I stood on my toes, lest my heels make too much noise. I dared not look behind for fear that what I feel is only the appearance of my shadow self and not her, whom I want so deeply.

 

Not her, whom I want so deeply, so absolutely, so wholly; her, who sits on my eyelids when I sleep and watches me in my dream. Her, whom I desire so deeply, , I see her peeping through the crevice in the wall  – who is this other I seek, who is she, my alter ego, my shadow self, so silent, I fear she may hear my subdued breath ….and flee!

 

Hush, my little heart, stay quiet, even if you know, it is she, who I am waiting for, who has arrived.

 

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Fight for me, Anuraga

A whole year has passed since we last saw each other. You promised to remain in touch, but you didn’t. Like a lover having nestled at my breast for some few days, whispering sweet nothings into my ears, you used my emotions to bathe your hungry desire.

You promised that you would fight to keep me too, although you were attached to someone else. You said, you would negotiate a balance by which you were able to hold us both in respect. It was not your fault that you had met her before me, but it certainly is a fault that having been with me, you can return to her as if there was never a thing between us.

You say I am not the type who can be committed to one; I say, yes, I can’t. My philosophy has been that of free flow, never to be tied up to anyone, nor allow myself to force tie upon anyone to me. Yet, in these moments I wonder at your tales of liberation from all ties; I wonder what truth there is in the words that you spilled in my ears – you belonged to the world and the world belonged to you, you shared it with your lover who too was composed of the same ether and for both of you, stings were but chains. I wonder then, how you failed to even inform your love about both of us.

You promised you would share what conspired between the two of us; you would work towards a means by which you could be a common love for both of us. It seems that you have now hidden behind your own words, unable to meet the demand you laid on your self.

I met your best friend the other day. He said you had even lost sense of your own self. You confessed that there was a huge amount of pain in your heart which you could find a solution to. You had lost yourself in work in such a way, that you could remember nothing of the past. You said that your poor heart could not bare the torture of insecurity lashing out at you, from your lover and hence you have preferred to put a lock on your tongue.

Such deceitful acts will only make you remember me more. The more you try to cover it with the sand of time, the more it will show up, night and day, and one day, in your trial to forget your past, you may forget who you are.

Fight Anuraga, fight! Fight for me, to be at your side. Remember yourself through me again, remember, the days we spent together, the nights we breathed as one. Remember, all those moments which made us what we are today; above all remember this Anuraga, that if you loved me as much as you said you did, you would fight for my place with you.

Lay down the mantle you have worn so far; dismantle the ideologies you held till now, come clean about the fact that all the books you studied and the talks you gave to re-engineer yourself breaking societal norms and constructs around you, that you are free of the shackles of all that you believed was true, for you were not able to walk your talk when it came to putting it in practice. It was easier for you to die to yourself and to me and perhaps her too, for the easiest roads are not less travelled. In fact the road map is already there. Or I will turn to say that, you used me, my emotions wrapping yourself around me with words and ideologies you could scarcely call your own.

Fight for me Anuraga, tear your heart, bleed, and tell the world that in your veins flow the poison you can safely call, me.

 

Don’t you remember you told me, you love me baby

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” May I share the table with you” I asked the lady sitting on the only table with an empty chair.

” Of course” she said ” Please”!

Prem’s Restaurant was jam-packed. A favourite among the people, who live in Pune, a city in Maharashtra, India, Prem’s is famous for its Chicken tandoori. I was in Pune for that one evening only. I was terribly distraught and knew I had to get my teeth into some chicken to ease the hungry pain in my heart.

I settled on the chair opposite her and looked up. She was a foreigner. I smiled and introduced myself.

In response she said in a very British accent” Hel – lo! I am Dhyan Sagar” She read the question in my eyes. ” If you are wondering about my name, it is not my legal name. Peggy O’ Hara. I am Irish”. Ah- huh! I thought. That explains the lovely far-away looks….it had to be from Enya’s country.

” What brings you to India?” I asked looking around for the waiter.

” Love. ” she said simply. ” Love of the land – and a man”. I smiled again. Oh! Didn’t I know that feeling?

Strangely, when the waiter came to take the order, we both ordered chicken tandoori.

” It’s one of those days, ” she continued with a ringing British laughter ” I need to get my teeth into some meat. Other wise I am a vegetarian”.

This was beginning to sound like a déjà vu. We chatted while our orders were being prepared. Dhyan Sagar was a teacher in Liverpool and sang in the Pub in the night. Around seven years ago she met a man while she was visiting India for the first time. She had broken off from a long live-in relationship five years prior to that and had taken a decision to not fall in love for a long time. She had shut herself out from the world, coming out only in the evenings to the Pub on Saturdays. She sang from her heart and even as we spoke, I could imagine her music. Her voice was alive. It had a “soul”.

” I can’t say what took over me. I was hit from the back I think. I couldn’t get him off my mind. We were travelling together to Ladakh. Suddenly all my mind could think of was him. Day and night, I wanted to be close to him. We stuck to each other like glue. No! That is a lie. I stuck to him like glue….”

I loved her honesty and it rang a certain note of familiarity in me. I thought of Ramesh. How I had met him on my first job as a Time- Life Bookseller and after that, my sales calls began and ended at his office! Thank God it was a vacation job!

” I know that feeling” I began ” I have experienced it myself….”

” Oh! Have you? He did not reveal himself to me quite clearly for a few days. Then one day, we were alone together and I reached up to him and began to kiss him. Can you believe, we had not even kissed for over three days after we met, even though it was quite evident that we both fancied each other?”

I nodded and was about to say my piece when she continued with hers.

” He stopped me. I was so dismayed! How insulting I thought. Then he revealed to me, he was married and had a baby girl. I was perplexed. So why did he not say that before, I thought. It was very hard for me”. Sagar stopped and took a sip from her glass of water and a bite of the chicken leg. I cleared my throat.

” Ramesh was similar…he too was …..”

” What did you say? Was he married? Oh yes, of course that is what he said to me”.

I got it this time. I decided to let her do the talking.

” Don’t you think” she questioned me, looking deep into my eyes, he could have told me he was married, at least on the second day of our meeting? He knew he was not going to play game!”

” Perhaps, he meant to tell you but….” I was interrupted again.

” I know it was his love that kept him from telling me….he had begun to love me, you know….I could feel it”.

I cleared my throat again and was preparing to fill in the gap. However, it was not necessary.

” He said to me one day on the trip, I don’t want you to feel I have not responded to your love. I can feel how you feel about me…and he put his arms around me and gave me a long hug. Somehow, the tears came to my eyes and although I tried to stop them, he saw them running down my cheeks”.

” Oh! Darling!” he said, ” I don’t mean to hurt you”.

Sagar was crying again. I stared at her. Would it be appropriate to gently touch someone’s hand lying on the table? Even, if I wanted to show my empathy? To reassure her?

As quickly as she began to cry, that quickly, she wiped her tears away.

” I am sorry! Didn’t mean to. Let’s change the subject”.

“Yes, I said ” Lets!”

” But just one more thing…..do you think he loves me? He has refused my erotic advances, but never my love…”

” I can’t really say, but I ….” My theory remained unheard.

” I know he does. My heart tells me so. And that is why I have been coming back to this beautiful land over and over again. Because of him, and my love for him, everything seems so much more beautiful!”

I loved the genuine ray of love that emitted from her eyes as she said these lines to me. It spread across the room covering it with a gentle hue, warmth you could touch only if you were looking into her eyes at that moment.

” As I was saying, I had a similar experience with someone. But you know what? After two years, I had to cut the relation off….I had to move on……” I said.

” I can’t do that Samasti, because I know he loves me. I need to wait for him”. She looked stubborn.

” But what about you? You are not getting anything out of this love are you?”

” Does not matter! One loves for the pure joy of loving.”

” And hope that he will love you back in the same way some day?” I said without thinking too deeply on it.

I had made a mistake. Suddenly, Sagar began to look quite cold…chilling in fact.

” I believe in the power of love, Samasti. I know if you love someone so dearly, you can hold the torch for him or her for as long as it takes them to come to you. ”

” Yes! You can. But time and tide waits for no man. Opportunity to move on in life reduces with every passing day. So does our will. These are the reasons why I moved on from Ramesh. ”

She was quick and caustic.

” You did not believe in your love. You had never known loss of love. If you did, you would not have given up the second time. You would have clung on and fought your lonely battle and even if you did not win at the end, you would have lived with the fact that you had not lost, because you held on to that love “.

The impact of the words left me speechless. An arrow plunged into my heart. I did not need to hear the rest of her story. I knew it is not love she was seeking; not this man either. He was merely a catalyst. Someone, who could instill in her, her own individual self worth, by precisely, not responding in the way she desired him to. And by so doing she inadvertently proved to herself that she could love eternally, no matter what. It was her power statement to herself.

Hats off! I said to myself, pensively wiping my lips with the super white laundered napkin. We rose from our table together and walked to the exit. Outside the doorway, we turned briefly to one another. We looked at each other very deeply and made connection for the first time that evening.

” It’s been a delightful evening. We must do this again”. She said.

” Yes! ” I agreed. ” We must”!

Then we both went our ways not exchanging business cards. I knew there was nothing for her to meet me again. She had told me her story and now she must find a new pair of ears to tell the same story to. She had to affirm her love worthiness. Again and again.

It was her obsession.

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