SIGNATURE STANCE

As she stood there stunned and still, she could sense her heart plummeting over the heavy roars of the blood that rose. Her feet felt frozen to the ground and she badly wanted to run away. But she was hooked like a hammered nail, quiet and cold. There was only this one lad, but her eyes witnessed an army of men. She tried to decipher the flicker in his eyes… lust? Hunger? What was it? A heartbeat. And the proximity was dizzying.   Ever been there? Under the street lamp or maybe in the dark corner of a pocket road? Midst a crowded bus or your sweet safe home? The roadside sketching, the sleazy songs, the vague sense of wrongness of the grey haired uncle, and what more to add to the cart replacing the bubble list and the fairy shire dreams of your teens?  The preaching and quotes never stand by in times of the sudden clasp. In a heartbeat you freeze. Be it a 5 year old or a 30 year old, your nerves go numb and you just freeze. And how shameful, we all have bee

The week has been honestly very dear to me that it was hard to drop in words and tell you how I felt. Would you believe me if I tell you a different dimension roves through my mind as I listen to the evergreen, ever romantic songs from Roja and write you with the infinite strength of passion it carries? Will you ever forgive me for making you gravitate towards me? for making you feel the yearns, the aches and the lust of what we share? Ah ! what is it that we share ?? I don't know.. If you ask me, this started off with a craving to make you mine.. but its beyond the little love I shared. Its beyond the tears I shed. Its beyond the touch of your fingers on my bare skin. Its beyond my assumptions. Beyond my conclusions. Beyond my extensions. Its beyond all cupidity. I do know this. It is an avalanche. And I am just a small ripple in your expanding world. As little do I know how you feel for me.  I do know there would come a time when my pen would slow. When we would part. B

I have been a vagabond at heart. A heart-felt smile in the fleeting moments, a transient pulse in the unexpected quests and a beating desire in the lazy long walks. I am not defined by an intense experience, hit rock bottom or a shady soul with a wrecked tale. I am never a known face, a name or an idea. I am the storyteller, the dreamer and the drifter. I am the throbbing moment. The thought and the sheer feel of the present. I am unquestionably a muddle of many firsts, floating in the depth of the surf, breathing heavily at the expanse of a mountain, lost on a trodden trail in the woods, laughing hysterically over a glass of wine and wondering amusingly midst a zillion shooting star.

Despite being in immense pain, the young mother still thought about her only child.   The depth of intimacy for her child was immense, unfathomed and ever so subtly conveyed that a mother's love is far greater  that anything in the universe. During the Japan Earthquake, the world sensed the strongest pull of humanity in a young mother who made shield of her body to protect her child amidst the disastrous collapsing. She left a note saying, “If you survive, you must remember that I Love you”. Her body was sputtering, rasping and pitch cold, but her ultimate sacrifice was the protective affection for her little one. It gets me thinking, of all the awful lot of drama, anxiety, anguish and contradictions for the several years. This small thought of appreciation is for you mother… my brilliant, remarkably independent, capable, fierce, gorgeous woman, whose greatest pride is in being my father's wife, and in being my mother. She is such a true character, in every sense of the w

I find myself penning this post somewhat surprisingly. Maybe because the pain is bigger than ever, May be you just have to drown in it. Something that is unspeakably horrific. The hate that was all powering in its passion. The all-consuming love of lives, a love that seems to have even transcended death. The emotions enticing in its slow dance into midnight. It was getting dark, shady and mournful. But she no longer lamented over the dusk. She was different. She believed in even the possibility of a happy ending. She was strong. Hopeful. Of goodness. Of selfless love. Of a new dawn. She was the radiant smile of joy, one that could have illuminated the sun and the more. She was the Phoenix.

I think it’s not about crossing milestones always, it’s more about the journey. It’s about taking a long deep breath. Sitting down on a bench in a quiet park, bathe in the moment before moving on. Like I always feel I am rushed into something. Almost always. My inner self doesn’t reach me. It seems faint, far and a little distant. I am completely ruled by my apprehensions. Such amazingly strong feelings. Its close proximity.

You know there is always this little scar inside all of us. You are sensible enough to realize it wouldn’t stop with that single scar, but still you crave to keep it. The tiny scar that ships your love. It isn’t weird that you would sound crazy about this. Like you only picture it when you think he should be the one who makes that one long divine kiss of yours true. How it feels to know you are in a crowd until he looks at you. How he moves you and never let you forget your curves, the way he touches you and kisses your fingertips. Alas to let every women in the universe know you are with him. And he is yours. I say it with such conviction because I have felt it, lived with the scar. And never in a billion of the past memories have I felt something like it. And I am way over thinking it. Do I deserve the pain? No. Would it break my heart? Yes. But I just got to do it. You ask me for a reason. There are not many. It is only because my heart chose you. And eventually it has to be you