Let's Run

Let's run away together, can you hear my silent heart scream? 

Maybe you don't want to, or I don't want to see you react. 

Let's run and make a rash decision. 

Colour my hair blue, change my entire career. 

Am I crazy for dreaming? For wanting what I don't have? 

I won't know whether the grass is greener until I jump over the fence, right?

Let's go on that trip, we've been planning for years! Just you & me.

Let's forget the world and run. Run before someone shoots a rope and binds our feet to the ground.

Let's run away together, can you hear my silent heart scream? 

Missing Pieces

I sensed I was lighter,

Parts of me missing on the way

I sensed I was sadder,

My shoulders carried all the load. 

I sensed I was older, 

Lines drawn across my face.

I sensed I was colder,

My soul locked behind walls.

I sensed I was wiser, 

Silence was my best kept answer. 

I sensed I was calmer, 

Maybe I had found what I lost.

More than words.

The moon shimmered over the waters, as we dipped our worn out toes into it.

My fingers, dirty with the muck we just trekked through, slipped slowly in between yours.

You didn't mind. You never really did.

Your soft eyes floated over my face, filled with a love that you never needed to spell out. 

I pulled out a few stray leaves that were tangled up in your ruffian hair.

Lay a small peck on your bearded cheek that I knew would make your soul swell up with a form of pride & possibly glee. 

We didn't know where the others were and you were a little tense.

Your head began bobbing, searching the terrain for any sign of them.

I squeezed your hand wordlessly, asking you to worry a little later.

A little reluctant, you pulled your nubile fingers out and wrapped your entire body around me.

Smiling I snuggled into your chest.

Smelling of sweat, mud and possibly goo with not a care in the world, we melted into each other's being. 

I, Me, We

In this self-obsessed world, I feel light. Brought up in a life where vanity was a sin, I could never wrap my head around "I". Even as I write this post, I feel heavy at every place the word "I" is typed in. It was very recently that I realized that I am as self-centered and selfish as the person next to me.

Survival of the Fittest. Oh, Darwin. How true you are. 'Fit' in the human world does not restrict itself to strength. Survival here amongst these crazy adults requires intelligence, love and affection or simply tolerance . Surprised?

Love is selfless, some people like to say. Love amongst family is so. They will love each other with no expectations and a lifetime worths commitment. But love for a significant other? Most relationships are grown on expectations drawn by the media. You expect gifts, flowers and calls. A neglect of those expectations and it is declared a failure. The world doesn't revolve around love or sex or money or power. What does it really revolve around? What is the primal purpose of life? Well, if I knew that I would have written a world-wide/nobel-prize-winning article, lecturing at a grand spiritual/scientific lecture instead of blabbering my heart's pain here on a silly blog, right? But why is it that we think these things make the world go round? The feel good chemicals that run through your bloodstream when you acquire any of them? The respect and appreciation of others? Why do you look for love? So you can have someone love you back. Someone to take care of you. Someone to listen to you. The magical three words themselves have my dreaded "I" in it. So, love is selfish. You love so you are not alone. Because evolution shows safety in numbers. You love so you are safe. Because you have someone to protect you. When someone leaves, they do so because they are in pain or out of love; rarely visa versa.

"Love and loss share the same unmade bed" - Micheal Faudet 

If love were selfless, shouldn't one in love just be happy as is. If love were all forgiving, wouldn't one find leaving their beloved as easy as walking through a park? But alas, it isn't. Love is self-centred. As are you. Before you start changing your views about sly little love, let me tell you that it's ok. Love begins out as any seed and its desire for water does. Sucking water for its survival. Not thinking of anything except water. A lust. But allow it to grow and it evolves. It develops into something so beautiful, budding fruits for the world and creating shelter for many. People in love are good for each other. They help in their growth. It takes time, effort and patience.  {random thought: if you are in a destructive or abusive relationship, now is a good time as any to leave}

As I grow older, the meaning of love changes. The selfish purpose remains of course but there is a light of maturity in which I view it now. Love isn't lust or a teenage crush anymore. It isn't just holding hands and saying the 3 words out loud. It is about caring and being there for someone else as they would be there for you. { random thought: is it really a trade off?}  It is about patience and acceptance of your similarities and differences. It is about tolerance and the beauty of silence that you can share. It is about evolving and growing with each other, for each other. Then you can be selfish together! 

So, self-obsessed and beautiful though love might be, remember pain is as natural as oblivion is inescapable. 

Later Edit: 

"Often, when we say, “I love you” we focus mostly on the idea of the “I” who is doing the loving and less on the quality of the love that’s being offered. This is because we are caught by the idea of self. We think we have a self. But there is no such thing as an individual separate self. A flower is made only of non-flower elements, such as chlorophyll, sunlight, and water. If we were to remove all the non-flower elements from the flower, there would be no flower left. A flower cannot be by herself alone. A flower can only inter-be with all of us… Humans are like this too. We can’t exist by ourselves alone. We can only inter-be. I am made only of non-me elements, such as the Earth, the sun, parents, and ancestors. In a relationship, if you can see the nature of interbeing between you and the other person, you can see that his suffering is your own suffering, and your happiness is his own happiness. With this way of seeing, you speak and act differently. This in itself can relieve so much suffering."  - Thich Nhat Hanh, How To Love. 

Some days.

Some days

there's nothing much to say,

Love songs,

she always likes to play.

Some days

there's nothing much to do, 

She lays

by him, with a sweet coo.

Some days

there's nowhere much to go,

On streets

Drive, as one, in slow-mo.

Some days,

there's nothing much to see,

Packed bags,

Lets jump, in sinful glee.

Incomplete?

Words were fluid, slithering onto paper.

Writings float around her eyes.

Her heart ached with mindless thought

Half written letter is all she caught.

Amidst the crowd, chatter all around,

Drowning deep into the noise.

In the thick of broken telephones,

Crucial babble, lost in silent moans.

Colors were sketched, stuck upon the screen, 

blending and dissolving as in water. 

Shades of red, pink, purple and maybe some brown,

but fraction-ed pictures were all that hung around.

Bricks so solid, walls entirely on four

the partition felt cold and brittle.

Some rough and wet, as soft as skin.

Sadly only air kisses fluttered in.

Immortal Limbo

Its cold. Her toes, fingers. Numb. She usually loves this feeling. But this time, this time its different. She is lying on snow. White clean fresh snow. She should be happy. She should be gleeful. But she is numb. 
Wet wind blows over her face. Somehow this seems more real. She floats to a different time. Driving in the backseat, sunglasses on, hair all haywire. She is grinning ear to ear. This is heaven. This really is. Make this moment go on loop. Why must we move on? Why must we move forward? Why must we be mortal? 

You know why you love fiction? Beacuse you get to live in this immortal, undying world of someone else. You are 15 forever, you are beautiful forever. That happy ending is forever. Grimm's fairy tales were originally literally grim. They were modified and chiseled to fit a more acceptable version for the children. 

Life is bitter. It is inconsiderate, hurtful even. It took a while before I realized that life wasn't about the happy times or reaching the happy times. Its about the hardships and pain. The joyous moments were simply a temporary reward. A little sweet to chew on after a hard day at work. 

What was the purpose? Why are we here? Why do we go through the cycle of shifting, living, reliving? I read a quote somewhere about how there are actually a limited number of things you can do for the first time. Then, then you live in the past. The past is a part of you. Your choices, your decisions. Your pain is all a part of you. Sure you can preach about living in the Now and the past being the past. But remember the past is always a part of you. It is what makes you unique. On the other hand, I read that when time isn't of an essence, memories lose their meaning.  

She wasn't where she was anymore. She wasn't here either. She was lost in a limbo where nothing is real and everything is intangible.  

Ghost

The patter of the summer rains filled her chest with a deep longing. Have you ever taken a shower in a shower without a shower? She thought smirking. It seemed like ages she had walked down those cobble-stoned paths, dripping in thirst quenching falls. The little streams rushed to find their little homes, moving with their own current, making their path if need be.

She signed as she desperately tried to touch the rain through her grilled windows. Wouldn't a hail be just perfect? drawing her arms back inside to wipe her sweaty face with it.
"Silly girl!", he said looking at her shenanigans. Startled she looked toward her tiny kitchen. He stood there with two cups of boiling coffee, trying desperately not to let the rain drops from his hair somersault into the vessels. He thought himself a coffee-connoisseur  and was rather adamant about how he made it.

She blinked for just a second. The unpaired cups back on their shelves neatly arranged. The coffee aroma just a hallucination. There wasn't anyone else in the apartment. Her heart had stopped and now was racing. Stupid heart. Her eyes filling with little pools of water, she looked outside at the shimmer street lights and the dancing river.
"You really want to go swimming in the river?" his voice said again. This time he was sitting right next to her on the ledge. She could smell him. He never really smelled the same every time. A rack full of perfumes, that's what he had. It was pretty intriguing how a guy could be so conscious about it. Quite an entertainment, guessing which one he wore when. A gush of wind blew through and she watched his smiling face dissolve away like an exiting slide on power point. She reached out to touch his face... but he was already gone.

The breeze lingered, drawing her attention back to the recently bathed roads and  glistening trees. Small little cars honked their way home. Her grumbling stomach added to the street music. She halfheartedly rose from her cosy corner to take out a piece of pizza. The microwave lazily hummed while she rummaged through the fridge for some more junk items and ice cream.
"That is dinner!?" he bellowed. She literally hit her head trying to see where he was now. Somewhere -one could call it the hall- between the kitchen and the common area, he stood lecturing her about nutrition and vegetables. She couldn't hear a thing. Maybe because the ringing in my head is so loud. She walked slowly towards him, careful not to scare him away. As she neared, he unfolded his arms but still had his playful stern look. He thinks he can scare me into eating veggies with that! she giggled. She was inches away from his arm when the microwave beeper went off and *poof* he vanished again.

Angry and hurt, she couldn't understand what was happening. She stomped back to the microwave, and slammed it shut. Memories, just memories. That's all. She was alone when she met him and she was so when she left. But a bag full of memories is what she had. Painful, tragic, happy & blissful. How unfair life is. Showing her a piece of paradise, giving me a bite of that sinful apple and then taking it all away; like a punishment.  

She sulked back to her spot and took a bite of the leftover dinner. Argh! He was right. She gulped down the glass of cold drink when she heard him laughing. " I'm always right. That looks nasty!" She looked at his droopy little eyes and started laughing with him. Without any more attempts to check his reality, they spent the rest of the night in a series of conversations that made no sense to anyone expect to the two of them.