It's not you. And I mean it.

My body cringes

When your fingers touch my arm,

When you run them along the length,

When you kiss my fingers

And bite them too.

You pull me close, whisper in my ears

There’s no other place I’d rather be

You look into my eyes,

Let us dance to the melody of Himeros

With every kiss, my lips smile

When you reach my neck,

My arms follow

Your touch is sweet,

And you caress my waist

A kiss on the neck,

Chin. Cheek. Nose. Lips. Tongue.

Legs around your waist, my hands find support around your neck

Head rests on the shoulder while you touch every part of me.

My lust consumes me,

Probably more than it should.

But how do I tell you,

That it's not you

Whose touch I crave.

Now, more than ever.

I see your face, I drift away

I see a tomorrow

In the sea of thoughts, that’s a way

I see our lives, from the future that I borrow

I tremble when I walk

On me, your eyes stay

I stammer when I talk

To me, the attention that you pay

Into my eyes you gaze

With so much love and hope

And you’re lost in a maze

I feel I’m pulled by a rope

It’s overwhelming,

The level of satisfaction

It’s charming,

The amount of your affection

Strongest bond we redeem,

We are a team,

A distant world it seems,

Like a translucent dream

And I love you more

With every passing day

Than I did before

It’s what I’ll always say

I tried to live without you,

Tears fall from my eyes

For so many years, or so few

I told myself all the lies

It’s a starry night

When mysteries suddenly unravel

Hold on tight

While all of the fears dishevel

We’re gonna get through the storm

Because I cannot live alone forever

I need you in my dorm

Now, more than ever.

"True" love story.

Love Story: It’s definition (I googled) is “a tale of lovers”.

But, that’s not my concern. The idea for this blog randomly struck my mind when I saw the words “true love story” and it got me wondering. True love story, as such, has no definition.

Who decides though? Which love story is true and which is untrue? Romeo & Juliet, Cleopatra & Mark Antony , Laila & Majnu, Salim & Anarkali and some more tragic love stories are few that are considered to be ‘true’.  The stories with sad endings. And then there are movies depicting the unconditional love between a couple where one partner is diagnosed with some terminal disease eventually or the ship they are travelling in hits an ice berg and sinks.

As much as I love sappy sad stories, I hate how our notion of true love stories has now become the very idea of someone sacrificing their life either waiting for ‘the one’ or devoting their life to a dying loved one.

"True love stories never have endings."

And then there are these quotations which frame such very notion of true love in our brains.

Whatever happened to our childhood when true love meant our parents fighting ever second day and then making up to each other the next? The constant nagging and arguments followed by “ladte wo hi hain jo pyaar karte hain”. Rather, our grandparents. The time when the women in the house wore a pallu over their head and had meek expressions with eyes that never met their husband’s (atleast when they were not alone). That was also love, true one for that matter but only in a way now alien to us.

Fortunately, I haven’t seen the tragic ones around me. But when I see an old couple walking together at a market or a mall, I look at them and think that is true love. I see my parents, and there I see true love. I see my friends who sometimes fall out of relationships but I know their love was true, only it just didn’t work out. Because sometimes it’s not meant to work out. And sometimes, true love stories do end.

It was always her.

She woke up to her phone ringing.
"Hello", she muttered in her sleepy voice.
"Hi, you sound so cute. I just called you to apologize for last night and wish you morning."
"Morning", she replied with a smile on her face. "Let me get up and give you a call back?" she asked.
"Sure babe. I'll be waiting", Jay replied.

She dragged herself out of her comfortable bed and walked to the restroom. She started brushing her teeth.
"Hmm, that wasn't so bad. Maybe I can get used to this." She smiled again. After freshening up, she went to the kitchen. Caffeine was desperately needed. She decided that she'll call him later. There were other important things she had to care of before talking to him that day. She needed to think about what had happened the last night, and exactly why.

Jay and Aria had been dating for a few months now. Their's was a relationship that grew out of new friendship, they had known each other a few months before they decided they both liked each other. It was going great, until last night. Last night, they had their first real fight.
Jay was a sincere guy. He knew he wanted to be with Aria from the day he had met her. No one had understood him the way she had. No one ever will, was what he always believed. Aria, on the other hand, was a carefree girl. She wasn't used to giving much heed to emotions and feelings. She took everything as it came to her. She was smart enough to expect the least out of people, to not put her faith in anyone. She started dating Jay because she liked him just the same. He made her happy. She was reluctant initially, thinking that Jay was too sweet to handle someone like her. She was too strong with her ideals and her rules. But she still went ahead with it.
Yesterday's fight was about her insecurities, her expectations which had started to rise without her acknowledging them. It was a silly reason though. He had apologized and he tried to reason with her. In her heart, she knew he was right but she was hurt. She didn't understand why. And she ended up being really pissed, more at herself than at him. She tried real hard, but she couldn't keep the thought out of her mind that maybe it was a mistake, her relationship. Maybe they were not ready. Maybe he was not able to handle. Or maybe, it was her. She was unable to handle all the emotions and she was caught in the turmoil. She wasn't used to expecting anything at all from anyone but now she was expecting, and getting disappointed. But it was noone's fault for her expectations were unrealistic and she knew it. All the anger was hurting her from the inside and she had no one to go to. That's why she ended up fighting with him.


Caffeine helped her think straight. She needed to figure how to make things right. Reflecting upon everything that had happened last night, that she said and whatever he had explained, she finally accepted that she was very wrong. She needed to let a lot of things go and get used to being disappointed a few times here and there. After all, he had a life of his own and he won't do everything according to her. That's why she's always hated being involved with someone, she wanted things her own way and when that didn't happen, she used to get pissed. But the way he had handled her anger last night, the way he had tried to make her understand, she knew noone else would have done that.
Maybe it was never him or anyone. She was highly wrong in thinking that he won't be able to handle her in a relationship. It was her. Always have been.
She was not able to handle herself like that, like the way being with Jay was changing her. Yesterday was not about disappointment, it was about facing the reality.

They parted, only, to never meet again.

Her phone rang. “I’ll be there in 10”, said the guy from the other side of the line. She kept the phone down, smiled to herself and started staring at the clock. Every second seemed like an hour for her. She felt like she was gonna meet him for the first time. A new HIM. A new HER. It was over the phone only, a few weeks back, when he said he loved her. It came as a surprise to her because she had never felt for him that way. He was just a friend to her, a good one. But she had taken it well. She had been told by people who knew her well that they were perfect for each other. They were “made for each other” material but she always took it as a joke until ofcourse he confessed. Surprisingly she didn’t think much of it, like how she’ll react, how she’ll behave around him et al. She was simply going with the flow. But she was glad to know that there was someone for her now, someone she knew she could count on whenever needed, someone who’ll not only cry for her but would cry with her. Having the secured feelings, she was on cloud nine. She was meeting him for the first time, after he had confessed.

 She recalled all texts that had been in her inbox, saying crap like ‘yew do this, so yew love him. Yew do that, so he loves yew’ which she had overlooked, now, made her smile. She remembered the times when they laughed together, cried together, fought with each other, tried to make up, times when they were happy. All the moments jogged in her mind, chasing each other playfully. She had lost track of time. And then, the doorbell rang. She ran towards the door and while unlocking it, her nostrils got filled with the cologne he wore. She loved his cologne, she realised. Letting him in, she got a little uncomfortable. Usually when a friend came over to her place, her roommate was around. But today, when she thought having her in the house would have helped, she was there, standing awkwardly in front of him.


After realising that an eerie silence had occupied the room, he started talking. Although she felt he sang to her. The way he spoke had changed, or maybe how she listened had. She was unsure of what was happening but she relished listening to him. They talked for next two hours, about every random thing like they always did. And when it was time for him to leave, she walked him to the door. Before heading out, he did the most unexpected thing. He took her in his arms, closed in on the distance between them and placed his lips gently on hers. Before she could react, he retreated his lips and smiled at her with his hands still around her waist. It was quick, but was gentle. She felt safe in his arms, safe like never before. Without taking another second, she kissed him. And this time, they kissed. A kiss full of love and passion. They stopped and he whispered ‘I love yew’ in her ears. She felt like the world bowed to her. In his words, she found herself. But she couldn’t get herself to say anything. She needed some time to take in whatever had happened. So she simply smiled and then they parted.


Only to never meet again.


At mid-night, she called him. After they had shared a few greetings, she was about to tell him for what she had called, to tell him she loved him too, but before she could say anything, he interrupted her. His tone became serious and she bit her lip realising what was about to come might just not be the best thing for her to listen. And correct she was. The next second, her chest burned, her heart ached, and she was out of breath. She disconnected the line, forcing herself to stay conscious. Tears kept streaming down her face. She couldn’t believe her ears but when she did, she knew he wasn’t lying. She cried all night, thinking about the times - when they were happy. The moments that she thought of a few hours back, which had made her smile, now made her cry her eyes out.

She had stopped talking him or maybe he stopped talking to her, she didn’t know and she was contended. But now, none of that mattered. She refused to believe it, but deep down she knew she had fallen in love with him. She also knew that she would never be able to love again. It’s been 2 years now. The mourning has diminished but there are several days when all she does is to live her life normally only to come home at night, curl up in bed, and let her mind get filled with the echoes of the line he said on the phone and cry herself to sleep.

Only to come home, curl up in bed and cry.

He had said, “I think I have feelings for Ria. The girl I met at the bar last week.”