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.

Lost dreams

I want to become a doctor.

I want to become a teacher.

I want to become a pilot.

I want to become an astronaut.

I want to become Sachin Tendulkar.

I want to become a truck driver.

The most common answers to the question, ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’

A very famous-THE-most-important question asked to kids and these are their answers. In these answers lie their dreams, their aspirations and adult’s humor. The question has become too cliché and the answers have become even more cliché that no one pays any heed to them anymore. “Hah! He’s saying this now, wait for 4 years, he’ll change his mind.” The first thing that a kid’s ears catch is that statement after they have revealed their dreams. It’s just another statement to us, but for them, it’s the first push towards a road much travelled, a road that leads them to a point where they start believing that these dreams might just not come true. First thought of failure is thus incepted in their mind.

While many in-a-subtle-yet-ignorant-way demoralize their kids, some encourage theirs to dream. And dream big. But what they fail to tell their kids is that few years down the line their lives will be much more than just trying to fulfill their dreams. Males will have to take up the responsibility of the house and females will have to take up the daily chores. And both will have to study their asses off and score good, because hey, you cannot achieve your dreams unless you score good. The sound of that line is drilled into their tiny heads from the start.

Years go by and so does the question about what they’d want to become. Life gets so busy that you never think about the answer, mostly because you are never asked that question again. You are not 8 anymore, means you are in the rat race. Who cares about what you had wanted to become 4 years back? Do you?

Managing studies, home, chores, our entertainment, playing, sitting with parents, getting proper sleep, etc and the list goes on. Years go by and the list keeps on increasing. And before you know it, you are graduating with a degree you never knew of when you were young. Odds are, it’s not even in the direction of your childhood dream. But you keep going. You’re in the rat race, whether you like it or not.

Eventually, you will get a job. You’ll work. You’ll marry and have kids. Grow old and one day while sitting on the porch, waiting for your death to take over, you will decide to look back on your life (Well, apparently I have heard that old people kinda knows when their death is around the corner).

For one moment, you’ll think what was it you had dreamt of doing when you were a kid? Alas, it’ll be harder to remember than you thought it’d be.

It’s a scary place to be. So stop. And think.

What was it that you wanted to become when you grow up?

You have grown up. Now is the time to chase after your dreams. Now is the time when you should remember your dreams, and if you cannot remember then make new dreams. Because if you don’t, one day you’ll find yourself sitting with your laptop, thinking about what your dreams were and almost dying inside after realising you don’t remember your dreams.

That very moment, you’ll be lost. Lost in a way that can never be explained. Being lost is a feeling that can only be felt and then understood. Let’s hope by the time you realise you are lost, it isn’t too late.

                            

                              

Deceptions.

In that great, gabled country home with its Flemish brick façade and trimmed privet, Kiara lay on a giant, soft bed beside Jose, agitated and sleepless. Her fingertips explored the distinguished line of his neck; his eyes; his cheekbones. She kissed his hair, remembering a word Jose had mentioned earlier: closure. She gathered it meant peaceful resolution of the past. The infinite possibilities of the word enthralled her, but its reality, difficult and gangly, left her disappointed. She had abandoned Dehradun and come to Delhi to be rid of her past. In that big city, she had fallen in love, and in friendship. She was in love with Sam, a man of regal stature and her boss. A perfect bachelor, he had swept Kiara off her feet. She had been head over heels for him only to realize later how he had been using her, all the while, for pleasure while his family planned a big, fat wedding with a rich tycoon’s daughter. When the world had exploded in her face, she had fled to Spain, to grow anew a skin that had been peeled by what she had secretly come to think of as ‘strange events of Delhi’.

Now she lay listening to the glacial wind hammer the leafless firework of ivy against the window and the Labradors snore outside the bedroom door. This life was entirely unlike that which she had known, but its unfamiliarity did not divest her of the affinity she continued to feel for Delhi; in fact, if anything, it seemed to solidify her resolve to return.

She tilted herself on her side, closer towards Jose, and put her head on his chest. She had started to love him and knowing this broke her heart. Shutting her eyes, she could see the buildings, and vehicles racing, she could see the deer park’s lake, the leafless trees and marigolds floating upon its dirty, chartreuse waters; she could hear the aluminium canisters rattle on Atlas cycles manned by absurdly athletic milkmen. She believed she could now go back to Delhi although it was nothing more than a catalog of her failures. Because some people were meant to shepherd you to different shores, and some people brought you back to familiar ones.

She kissed Jose, feeling grateful. He had been her shelter in the cold country. Jose woke up and kissed her. She responded quickly. His tongue moved from her mouth to her neck, travelling down her chest, her navel, hipbone, seeking scholarship of her body. But if he knew she was thinking of leaving him, of returning to India, to Delhi, what would he say? Would he hit her? Would he turn away, dress up and walk out? Or would he laugh and go back to sleep?

Perhaps Sam had been the same way, committing treacheries within kisses, and so now she passed on the deceptions she had received.

Sympathy or plastic smile?

What is it about people who can never get themselves to share the intimate things in their lives?

Have you ever wondered that there's more to a person that meets the eye? That her/his life, which seems blessed and good, is actually not that good. That the fact that no matter how much better off they are, they are still messed up in their heads.

There are 2 kinds of people.
People who choose to share their misery, confide in people and let others know that they are vulnerable and hurt.
And then there are those who can never get themselves to share anything that makes them seem weak.

Maybe it's not about what kind of a person they are. Maybe it's more about who they choose to confide in.

But how do you know in whom and when to confide? And what about the things that you are too ashamed to share? The things that give a wrong impression of things close to you, things that define you - like your friends or family or your own self.

What about things like being exploited by a loved one, sexual or mental harassment or both, domestic violence, drinking problems, parental problems, spouse issues?

What if the person sitting next to you, who's smiling away and making jokes is going through any of that but he is too ashamed to share? Or maybe who simply don't want you to see the bad in their loved ones.

So you see the pain of people only when they tell you. What about the ones who are not like them? The ones who don't go around telling others that they have certain issues because neither they want sympathy nor they want pity.

It's obviously true that there will be someone you will confide in. Someday. But till that someday, what if people you want to understand you, leave you for someone who chose to make themselves look weak?

I don't know which one of those two is in better place, which one is happy in the end. Sharing the things and gaining sympathy or having a smile plastered on your face? 

But that is a question I ask myself everyday.

the Devil in me

Every coin has two sides. And this is the devil side of me.
A side that every one has but no one has the guts to accept. A sin, no one wants to take responsibility for.

If I ever write my own story, it'll start like this -
"Once upon a time, a girl found out that she turned out to be a wrong person"

There possibly might not be anything that's good about me. I'm selfish, and yes I never deny that fact.
I'm arrogant. You can't just piss me off and expect me to treat you like honeycomb.
My modesty is overshadowed by my facial expressions that usually suggest that I'm showing attitude towards you.
Well honestly, your face isn't exactly what I wish to see for long. So don't be surprised if I choose to look at the ground or anywhere else in the air while talking to you.
I'm not here to please you, so don't even get the vague idea that I'm trying to impress you by bragging or lying about anything.
I'm an adult lady. Yes I get horny. And I don't make efforts to hide it or cover it. No one is a kid here and hypocrisy is not my thing.
I care about anyone and everyone, only because of the values instilled in me by my parents, not because you are very dear to me.
I am a woman of words. Unless I say anything out loud, I don't mean it. So don't even dare to think I love you if I have never said it. Chances are, I'll never say it too.
I might talk to you day and night, but no, I won't end up feeling for you. If I can not feel for you after talking so much, then you can also do the same.
Yes, a lot of guys have asked me out. They might want me for all the good or the bad reasons. But hey, there are no bad reasons. So they want me for my body. That's something to be proud of, not ashamed of. Just because they want it, doesn't mean they get it.
After all, talking to every other guy or lusting over them doesn't make a girl a whore, sleeping with everyone does.
For those who love me for my mind, very frankly, I don't get it. You people don't know me. You cannot know a person in a few months. You cannot take the worst of me. What makes you think that you love me for my mind?
Nevertheless, I still respect your feelings. It's not easy to feel for someone and to reason with it, so I won't ask for reasons. So thank you for giving a piece your heart and mind to me.
But don't get so worked up that I've had a lot of guys to ask me out and never say yes. I don't say a yes not because I'm very proud or anything, I don't say a yes because I don't feel for you, simple as that. And it won't be fair on my part if I know that you feel for me but I don't and still decide to go out with you.
I do fantasize. I do wanna smash a girl's head only because she irritates me with her high pitched voice. I do wanna spill food on a better dressed girl because she gets to look hotter than I do. I am jealous of pretty girls. Or girls without acne, with perfect hair.
I am egoistic. Very. You cannot target my self respect and expect me to not react.
My self respect is above any of you.

I might be the most arrogant bitch in the whole world, but I'm not a liar. Whatever I am, I accept.
Honesty goes a long way with me. Be a liar, be arrogant, be a pervert. But if you're honest, you are still tolerable.

Hate me all you want. And fathom the immensity of fuck I do not give.

- Girl you 'should' be afraid your parents will meet.

Alterations

The thing with happiness is, too much of that, and you get bored of it.

The thing with sadness is, too much of that, and you get used to it.

There comes a time when you know you’ve tried everything- keeping yourself busy, distracted by talking to a lot of people, flirting, socializing- but nothing seems to work. Even if it does, the extent is very little. No matter what or who, nothing except time can help you move on.

No matter how hard you try to forget certain people in your life, small things they did, typical words or places full of memories of them, life has a funny way of reminding it to you in some manner.

One small move or gesture sends you on a roller coaster ride to your past. Long walks on beach, sitting in the balcony for hours, listening to music, playing guitar, nothing helps. Their thought stays stuck in your head.

Thought of you being together.

Thought of you never thinking of growing apart.

Thought of spending a considerable amount of time with them for you to cherish for the rest of your life.

Thought that never occurred that one day everything will get fucked up.

When everything seems to be going according to plan, when things feel too good to be true, you’ve definitely missed out on something. A screw up is bound to happen.

Helplessness is all you have left.

That. Is. Life.

You wait. And wait.

You wait for a change of course in your life’s events, people or surroundings. Desperate need of vacations persist. You hate change throughout your life but this is the time when every part in your body longs for a change. A change so drastic that it will tear away the old memories and help the new ones to bloom.

And you live in a hope that the change will happen.

Torpid

She is at a point where thinking feels like a punishment to her. She was not exactly happy. She was not sad either. She was just okay.

But her mind is tired. Tired of thinking what went wrong. Tired of thing about all the Whys and Hows. Tired of thinking altogether. For once in her life, the moment she started to think about the whole thing, her mind went like "Shit Happens" and that's it.She had lost her job. She had lost her boyfriend. And there she was, lying on her bathroom floor waiting for a reason to get up. She wasn't crying. She was just lying there doing nothing. Not even thinking.

She thought she was going to get promoted but the recession caused her to lose her job. That one thing, till now, had been her source of distraction from the fights and shouting and finally the break up. But now, she had all the time in the world. Time to think. Time to contemplate.She was so tired of thinking that the moment she started to think, it made her sick in her stomach. Thought of her ex made her feel like someone was stabbing her with a fork. Not because she had started hating him but because he had now become a guy from her past. She had spent way too long a time with him to think of only herself. Alone. 

She took the path that every girl takes. She spoke to her friends about him. She spoke to them because it kept her from talking to him. At that point, talking about him seemed easier than talking to him. She spoke to them because when they cursed him, for a little time, it made her feel good about herself.

Sometimes she used to chat with her ex, whenever he texted first. The talked revolved him and his life. She never spoke to him about her feelings. Which was making her heart ache. For last 9 years, she had spoken only to him about her feelings. He had been there, to listen to her, to hug her and to wipe her tears. And now her heart was overflowing with feelings but he was not around.

She could have spoken to him but she chose not to. She could have told him how much she missed him, how much she missed holding his hands, lying in his arms quietly, watching him sleep. She could have told him how much she missed him. But telling him all that meant she would fall apart. Her job kept her busy so she had no time to fall apart. It kept her sane.

But now that her job was gone, she didn't know what to do.

Hours pass by. She still doesn't move or cry or think. And then with a jerk, she gets up. She walks upto her bed, switches on her laptop and starts finding herself a new job. She needs a distraction.Because she doesn't  have the strength to fall apart. She just does not have that much of strength.

F.I.N.E

Every moment you look at me

I fake a smile so you won't see

It's only in you, for the part

You’re the only one who can break my heart

I found the truth in your eyes

Then I found out it was just a lie

In you I had found a reason to repair

A broken part of me, of which you seemed to care

In a swift moment the reason was gone

All the hope was mercilessly torn

I remember that moment, that time and place

Trying to picture your lovely gentle face

Holding your face, I think about that last kiss  

I had a feeling which maybe I miss

It's been a while since you went away

I still remember that very day

I wish we could go back to how it was

Writing each other letters, "Just Because"

But then the things you said cross my mind

And how easily you made me blind

Just one word, that you never ‘wanted’

Its all on you where we’ve landed

God knows that I tried

But with that one word, every part of me cried

My whole body sank to ground

And my whole world was dead, all around

I started doubting myself

And everything that had happened with us, it wasn’t all by itself

There’s still not a lot that I can think, maybe nothing has sank

I go out of words, totally blank

There’s only so many ways you can express your feeling

I was never good at it, I am always reeling

Within me there’s a riot

So out of all the things, I choose to stay quiet.

shock. numb. wait. pain - You can't escape it

Some things in life, you can’t escape. Life is tough. People come and people go. Very few stay. Those who leave either affect us or they don’t. The ones, who do affect us, leave a long period of moaning behind them, for us to walk through.

You spend days, nights, hours, weeks, months wondering what went wrong. With you or with them. They leave you, and in an instance everything falls apart. Just one moment. One second. In that one second, you get a shock. Shock so unexpected, you feel numb. No thoughts come to your mind. Brain stops working, it doesn’t tell you how to react. So you don’t react. You wait, wait for your brain to give some message, some direction to react, but nothing happens. You try to instruct your eyes to shed some tears. But again, nothing. Numbness grips every cell in your body. You just wait and try to live your life. Days pass, you’re still numb. And you just wait.

And then one day, after weeks or months of waiting, numbness loosens its grip. That is when pain takes over. Excruciating pain.  That is when everything comes back, every single thing that shocked you, comes back to haunt you bringing with itself so much pain that every bone in your body feels it. Your brain feels it. And again, you wait for your brain to help you deal with the pain. But it doesn’t help, because brain’s itself in pain. And so, your heart is in pain. And then your stomach. And slowly, every single part of your body. Eyes start to feel it too. Then they shed tears.

Your mind is screwed up. It needs someone to comfort it, love it, to remove its anger on, to abuse and every possible thing. You try everything. But nothing helps. Nothing will.

You can’t escape it. Any part of it. You can try, do anything to skip the pain part, but nothing will help. You just can’t escape it. Because what made you numb affected you SO much. When someone gives up on you easily, specially when you've tried read hard to not give up on them. That affects you real bad. Nothing will be like before, it’ll either be better or worse. You can only hope it goes the former way.

River of words

I don't whether I should post it or not, 
but for the sake of originality in composition, I just cannot not post it.


The following is a sort of conversation.


A : I wouldn't have run away
I would have stayed near
If , just for once, you would have
seen in my eyes , the pain and the tear..
But now its useless to moan..
coz the heart's become a stone..
But the stone still has your insciption
And all it screams is your description.


B : I wish i could have stopped you
I wish you had stayed
If, just for once, you would have
Seen in my heart, the hurt and the fear ..
But now its useless to cry
Cuz you're heart's become a stone
there's no more energy left in me to explain
how much you think I dont, but I do see your pain.

A : U were not moved by anything much..
U never gave a damn as such...
and after trying like hell,
I realised,
its time to step back..
its time to pack...

B : you tried too hard,
the whole pyramid fell because of one card
what you realised,
wasnt how it was meant to be
but its your decision, your way to see
and it'll always ge respected,
though not appreciated

A : Yes I tried very hard..
To keep ma favourite card..
and at first I thought, I lost it to one petty move
bt I guess it was the card itself which alwys wntd to
disapprove..

B : you chose to assume,
complications always come when yew presume.
you never understood that card, time was needed
but you didnt give time to time and without weighing
your actions, positive outcomes yew pleaded

A : yes i was desperate
coz i couldn't tolerate
the time taken by u was way too long
i jst wanted u to carry u along
but u never understood ma fear of losing u
i was trying to find the person i felt for
bt u mistook me pushed me ashore!!


and it ended there.
After permission, I might just reveal the people involved. But assuming it won't be appreciated, I'll stay shush.



Maybe it hurts right now,
Maybe you're broken in pieces,
Maybe everything is falling apart,
Maybe you think you won't make it
But you will.
Hold on just a bit longer,
Fight just a bit harder
And I promise you the sun's gonna shine again soon.
- Anonymous