No Another Chance.

A string in my heart,
An unseen wound.

The heart wrenching cries,
The unheard sound.

The tremble of my lips,
Dismissed as cold.

The moist eyes,
Misjudged as reaction.

A deep pain somewhere,
A sign of bodily malfunction.

The clumsiness, the tiredness,
Signs of Exhaustion.

The expecting mind,
A Stupid manifestation.

Long hours at Office,
Work related frustration.

The packing of bags,
Another childish exaggeration.

And When I say I am leaving,
A surprised, angry demonstration.

You never read the signs,
Its your ignorance.

Sometimes, Life simply refuses,
To give another chance.

RELEASED ---- FROM LOVE TO LOVE

She lit the cigarette…her fourth in about two hours. She only smoked because she knew it hurt him, basically, it was the only thing he seemed to react to. A tear traced its journey from the end of her eye as she took a deep puff inside; she’d grown immune to the taste, bitter as it was, yet she relished it, for she knew the smell made him take notice of her.

‘Notice of me’; she shook her head. What was it she wanted from a relationship? Were the movies reflecting there charismatic sets in her desires? Is it so bad to ask for love? Another puff. Her relationships have always gone haywire, what is it that she’s looking for? She expected words of love, yes she did; she also wanted some time alone with him, she wanted him to tell her how he felt about her, all those things that she’d read and seen and heard. Was it too much to ask for? As she burst crying, she took a deep puff, letting the smoke in the air accompanied with bouts of cough. Why do people do not feel the need to tell each other that they cared and loved after a while? And when does everything and everyone becomes taken for granted? Was she trying too hard, or was he finding a way out?

Way out? The words echoed in her mind, being louder than her cough bouts. What did they say about committing oneself to love and all that concerned with it? What a fool she has been, she cursed herself aloud…No , these stupid commitments are not forever, they are used only as an additional measure to make one loose stupid minds to their hearts, and everything starts looking different. Or maybe it simply puts to rest all mushy mushy things, signaling that we are on a serious tread, we will be together all our lives, we share a house and a bed, and that’s all. Who has the time to make you feel loved everyday? You are loved, once said, must last a life time. Then why can’t she be like him? Why is she restless? Why does she kiss him every morning she wakes up, while he seems to dwell away in his sleep? Why does she unfailingly wait for him in the bedroom so that he would make her sleep in his arms, when she knows his preference is the television? Why does a feeling of hurt crosses her mind when she sees a couple hand in hand on the streets, when she couldn’t remember when did they last walked a few miles purposelessly? Why did her friends open love notes for each other fill her mind with exasperation? NO, he doesn’t need a wayout, SHE DID.

She pressed the cigarette butt on the ash tray, wiped her tears and dashed towards the mirror. The kajal seemed to be everywhere except her eyes, her face looked red and bleak, her eyes radiated loneliness and she was clearly a failed example. No, this can’t be, she thought to herself, I love him the way I do, and am not dependent on his love, but on mine. They are gonna be together, only that she wouldn’t be pressing him notice, she would herself make her unnoticeable to him, for she’d immerse in world that she will create for himself, where he needn’t be there in person, but only as her thoughts. She’d still kiss him mornings, yet not expect to be kissed back. She’d do everything for him that she will feel right, yet never blink an eye when he’d suggest otherwise.

A nice hot shower released her body from the pain. She’d not cried anymore. She threw the pack of cigarettes in the dustbin, and simply got on with her official assignment.


**** After dinner, she wished him good night and went to bed. He probably expected her to call upon, she didn’t. She finished her read, and slept peacefully, knowing he will be by her side when she wakes up the next morning. ****


She’d released herself in letting him go.
She’d freed herself from the expectations she had from him

.


It wasn’t easy, she still gets desperate sometimes, but then she hasn’t lost her love, it keeps her going – with or without him.

I became Strong, when you set me Free.
And I became even Stronger;
When I LET you GO.

A Glance At A Lifetime.......

In the rocking chair, which is almost as old as me, or possibly older, I try to think that I am not dying. I look at the wrinkled skin on my hands and feet, and the receding flesh on them, shouts back to me, that I, I am just a matter of days now. Death, eventually, has struck me – not that I didn’t want it now, but how I had lived a lifetime, with instances of thinking and wishing for my death much more than thanking God ever for giving me life.

The tragedy with Death is, it doesn’t envelope you the way you want it to – sudden and instantaneous. Instead, it gives us all a lifetime to think about, to feel sorry, and to justify the wrongdoings, and to indulge in self appreciation of some deeds worthwhile, atleast from the thinker’s perspective. My eyes heaved down under the thought, my eyes - the once big, attractive eyes had now ceased to be a pair of small openings with graying eye balls and a spectacle over them. Tears, however, still rolled on, easily and swiftly, though now sometimes they would hang a little in the wrinkles of my face. Generally, as it had become a routine now, I started with my childhood memories. Childhood Memories, wherein I found myself the most innocent, and the most vulnerable. The follies that those years had witnessed seemed guiltless and naïve, and even now, without fail, ran a shrill smile on my curved lips, once so full of color and fervor.

Wandering further, I found myself being clutched in the hands of lust, love, greed, power, success and money. Lying and pretention came easily to me, I wouldn’t think twice before hurting people around me, my tongue seemed to have grown poisonous arrows that I would use as a final weapon to my victory. Yes, at the end only victory mattered to me. I did gain attention, for I had a face and an attitude to match, and I made use of that undue attention to gain further prospects. I looked down upon myself, a simple grey colored gown! Ha! Just a simple cloth was what I needed to cover myself, and all my life I ransacked stores after stores to find that ‘perfect fit’. I was successful, yes, for if you measured success in terms of the package I carried home as my ‘Take-Home’, I’d certainly did well. Though, I happened to write less, paint even rarely, and compose only to remind myself that I could. I could never be a writer, like I’d always wanted to, neither could I paint a canvas, so much so as I’d promised in my younger years, and never ever composed a song, much unlike the days when I was young.

Promises of loyalty and faithfulness became statements of utter blatant lies. Loved ones, (If I really loved them), were left behind in the race. I had mastered the art of pretention, and could weave out deceitful stories in minutes. Now, though, I had difficulty even in remembering the names of my kids; I reminisced over how I would build in characters after characters in my woven net of lies and deceit. All I ran after were my desires, the need to have money, to flaunt good clothes, the desire to be touched, and the need to be fed and cared about. I invested in relationships, but relationships need a solid foundation to whither storms of life, and when my existence itself was a lie, my relationships crushed into pieces at the slightest tremor of a blizzard.

Lonely and desperate situations made it all the more compulsory for me to keep me occupied, unlike the days today when I spend hours in this chair, doing absolutely nothing. Drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, and all such things came in handy when the tensions of work and personal life built walls around me. Wonder how a cloud of smoke and a glass of Vodka could make these walls disappear, atleast for the eyes and a part of the mind. I smiled at the thought of Vodka, in mango juice, for it still had some tantalizing effect on me, though its been long since my lips got to touch it. Married, yes I was married, to some extent forcefully, to the man who rarely said that he loved me, but whose eyes had the look that said he did. He was totally unlike me, all silent and secretive, and where my life was an open book that could be read by anyone, his was a mystery to me. He wouldn’t confess, he wouldn’t lie. All he did was touch me somewhere so deep, that I agreed to spend my life with him. Little, little did I know what love was, and little did I imagine his love for me. He came into my life, like a cool breeze, his presence around calmed my senses, I learned to communicate more without using the tongue, and I felt peace in his arms that held me every night , to this day of my life. Did I blush, @ 73?

He changed me, or maybe I changed myself to match him. I longed for him in a way that can’t quite be explained, and he restrained himself if I’d had anything that he considered not good for me. He knew his power over me, and I knew that I didn’t mind losing to him. Finally, I relieved myself of victory, in losing all of myself to him. Yes, I changed as a person. My mind was suddenly light, and I did away with my occasional cravings for smoke. Though he still spoke less, I would know what was going through his mind when he would touch me. That made up for most of our communication.

A lifetime with this man had given me two kids, a few books written by me, some canvas with colors spread over, and some compositions exclusively for him. A life that had begun to rot and rut, had towards the end seen the light of her own aura. If ever I thanked God, it was for him.

‘Chai’, he whispered in my ears as the tray was laid in the table separating the two of us, across the verandah. It is difficult to say If I had loved someone, or even if I understood what love was, but yes, this man who’s making tea for me here today, definitely knows about it. I closed my eyes, and his weak hands touched my forehead to see if I’d be running a fever. I knew this was it. And I released myself, finally, and united with the universe……

Somewhere, It Rained....

He hadn’t changed in his looks at all- contrary to what she’d expected.
She skipped a beat.
She had instead put on some weight, dark circles under her eyes, and pessimism around her persona.

She weighed herself against him.

Somewhere outside, the breeze sung a song; she knew she’d heard it before, long,long ago.

He held her tender fingers, sending shivers down her body, his eyes held hers, and his lips moved closer to her hands. As his lips touched her palm, she gasped for breath, her eyes closed, half with pleasure, and half with the pain that the callous world had given her. She felt like she’s melting, and how she wanted him to hold her.

He pulled her close, ran his fingers through her hair, touched her cheek, and pressed his lips against hers, slowly now; withdrawing then; again and again, before giving her a passionate, lasting sensation of ecstasy.

Outside somewhere, the music began loud, the winds murmured.

She let the passion and love, held so long in their hearts, flow freely. She dropped a tear here, and he swore her name, they dived into each other, the times came to a stand, the hearts stopped beating; the feelings knew no bounds, and they’d defined no boundaries…..

Yet, the winds turned crazy, the music played loud, and somewhere, it rained.

Bondings....

He lay on the bed. With needles and pipes coming out and going in at many points in his body, he looked weak, and somewhat in pain. She noticed he’d been staring at her, as she passed his bed, or made tea, or arranged his bed. She wondered why wasn’t he talking today. After all, she was the only one whom he was speaking to since the last few days. He would hold her hand, kiss her fingers, and with tears in his eyes say something she wouldn’t quite understand. But she understood one thing for sure: Her Dad was in great pain.

Last week, when the doctors put him on oxygen cylinders for the first time, she trembled with fear, a degree of apprehension kept her anxious, and she tried to visualize all the heroes-on-oxygen-scenes from the movies. Why, she had just turned 15 a few days ago, when her father gifted her a new dress, though expensive by the current standards. But, then, standards were not like this a few years ago, when her father’s business was doing good, and she was taught that she would get all the good things in her life if she would be a “good” daughter. Somebody called her Mom to another room, and after a few minutes, when all the see-we-are-here-in-your-bad-times relatives went out for a break, she was again alone with her Dad.

He lay peacefully, with his eyes closed. She felt his breath, and smiled to herself. He’d gone real thin, his fingers looked fragile; his face dull, with lines making graphs everywhere. His hairline was receding fast, and his neck showed loose skin. She touched him on his head, arms, hands, and neck. As if to make sure that the touch stays forever. She spent hours like this, sitting by his bed, pouring juice in the glass when he would need it, sometimes talking to him about family, friends who were here, what she learnt at school, and how her algebra problems were growing in numbers since he’d been here. It was the same everyday. Almost everyday.

After 3 days, when he was shifted to another room, she noticed he had not been talking to her much. His subject shifted from her to the family. He often said to her, ‘Darling, all my life I have brought you up as a son; promise me, promise me that if I go to the other world, you would take care of the family. Just as a SON.’

She promised

Another 2 days passed..

On the fateful day, as she held out his medicines to him, before leaving the hospital for the night, he refused to take them. In confusion, she called out for her Mom, who came in with a relative or two. All of them persuaded him to take the medicine, and he let out a huge cry. She dropped the glass of water; he hit her, and yelled at her to leave. She cried aloud. He cried aloud. The Mother cried aloud. And the relatives left the family in the room.

‘Tell her to go’.
‘But…wh..what did I do, Dad’.
‘Nothing. But can’t you leave?’
‘Sure, after you have this dose, I will go, as I have been all this week.’
‘No. Enough.’ Another glass crashed on the floor.
She ran down the stairs. Tears still flowing. Confusion over his behavior still prevailing. She went home and took a bath. She was upset over her father today. She was hurt. The crashing sounds of the glasses were still ringing in her ears. After she’d cried enough, she decided to watch her favorite show, The Tom and Jerry show, at 7 in the evening.


The doorbell rang.

Her mother on the door, alongwith a few other relatives.

Mom? At home? This time?

But she stayed at the hospital with her Dad.

She handed out a small piece of a tissue paper.

‘Darling, I couldn’t go till you were in front of my eyes.
I love you more than words can explain.
When you will grow up, you will understand how difficult it was for me to shout at you.
But it was the call from God.

Keep the promise, my Son.’

Some bondings are difficult to explain.

Gaming in love.....(Second part)

So as was destined, they crossed ways, after three long years, in a shopping mall. She heard a familiar voice, demanding blue color in a stylish shirt. More so, when a couple of voices said that black is definitely suiting him better, and that he has loads of blues in his closet. ‘No, blue and only blue’, she heard. She knew someone in her life had a fetish for blue. Someone she knew long ago. Someone perhaps, was this stranger. She turned back, but all she could see were men in various shapes and sizes. She fished out her credit card and told her sister to settle accounts. She walked up to the Men’s counter, and she heard someone laughing at something.
She froze when she saw someone with a blue shirt in his hands, and a giggle on his face.
Someone she had so well known, so deeply loved.
He dropped the shirt when their eyes met. Eyes, which had conveyed so many untold words to her. His eyes, which shone with her love, sure looked blank for a moment. The world stopped. Heartbeats ceased. And they stared, unblinkingly. Nothing in the world lasts, not even this moment of eternal joy.
‘Hey, wassup?’, someone chirped. And they blinked their eyes.

‘Go for the black one’, she heard herself speak. Wo, was it really she?
The salesman was told to pack the black shirt. His friends stared.
Her mobile buzzed.

‘Yeah, a minute. Get in the car’.

He understood she was with someone. He wondered whether he should ask her for coffee. What if she was with her husband? He sank up and down in the sea of thoughts that seemed to engulf him all of a sudden. Sixty seconds and sixty thousand thoughts. Wow.

‘How come you are here, last I heard that you were in Delhi’.
She knew?
I always knew about you, idiot.
‘Aah, yeah got a business conference here, and I am a member.’
So, he’s doing well.
‘You are still crazy for blue?’
‘Somethings last forever.’
And you, did you change?
Yes, can’t you see that I am carrying a MangalSutra in my neck.
Oh, and till when are you here?
As long as you want me to, no idiot, ‘umm,,a week I guess.’
He was to leave in two days.
She still is the most beaitiful woman on this planet.
She caught on the blue band on you wrist.
'It's worn out now, change it.'
‘Good, can we catch up for coffee?’, she said, pointing to the Barista just opposite the Mall.
Did she just invite him?
They never realized they had reached the parking.
‘Di, get in.’
‘Tomorrow at 5.’
‘See you.’
‘Yeah, bye.’

The black Honda City rode past him. She seemed to be rich now. But he didn’t see the usual twinkle in her eyes, which indicated her happiness. Instead, he saw a deep, dark vacuum. He wondered why did he lie to her about being in town till a week?
Did he still have feelings for her?

After 3 years since she last called him? To end all that was his life? He curled his eyebrows, told his friends that he will catch up with them later. He needed to get back to his hotel.

She cooked the best dinner that night. Her husband was astonished; there was a strange spark in her eyes, an eccentric glow on her face. On his being curious, she just told him it was nothing.

He knew her well enough to conclude there was definitely something. But decided to keep mum. It was after a long time she radiated light like this, he had fallen in love with this radiance; he wanted it to be their forever.

Not surprisingly, they met the following day at the Barista. From pleasantries, the conversations shifted to their lives, lives that were empty. She soon broke into tears; he into silence. She accused him; blamed him for what her life had become. He simply stared at his third cup of coffee. He had no explanations. He never had. He caught himself staring at a big diamond ring shining on her ring finger. She had it.
For rest of the week, they met daily. Their smiles lit up the moment they saw each other. The frequent seeing resulted in rekindling their feelings once again. As if they had elapsed.
By the end of the week, they had concluded that they need to be together. There is, but just one life. They are both earning, they can easily survive even if the families turned against them. The only hassle was her divorce. Divorce, which she was sure her husband wouldn’t agree to. Divorce, that meant he could once again be given the chance to complete the last leg of their journey. She decided she would talk to him soon; and in case he didn’t agree, she would file the papers herself and leave him.
As if life is so easy!
Once he went back, they started talking over the phones again. Twice a day. Six times a day. Then they lost count. By this time both of them were sure they are going to be together soon. But , did she really have all the courage? She told him to wait till her sister settles down. ‘Just five to six months. Talks are on,’ she’d tell him. He was ready to wait forever.
But then, Life had never been all that simple for her.
‘Hello..? Is that ..(name)..?’
‘Yeah. Who’s this?’
This is Nayana, (his name) girlfriend.
She’s stunned.
‘See, I just called to tell you that you stop calling him from now onwards…its been long since you have been married…why the hell you can’t be happy with your husband? You have already been your worst with him. Can you just leave him alone so that he can concentrate on people who really love him…blah blah blah…..’
The caller went on and on. She could hardly hear what she said beyond these lines. Though she understood that her character was being assassinated. Could he really be deceiving her all these months?
The easiest thing to do at such times: BREAK INTO TEARS!!
She disconnected the call, got into the shower. As the water droplets speckled on her bare skin, she let out a huge, loud cry. Cries wash off the effects of even the deepest of wounds.

She knew he couldn’t do it. She knew he was worried about her family, and her husband; who, for no sin of his, was leading a lonely life inspite of having a wife.
She at once understood he had planned this. She didn’t call him back. No, not because she wanted to change his decision, but because she wanted him to remain firm. She never had the courage to say no, how least she wanted the events in her life to happen. She could not deceive her husband, however he was, whatever he did. She cannot be happy; she knew, but she couldn’t bear the guilt either.

And this time, she was happy that he had called the shots. Now she could, perhaps , mark a new beginning , without any guilt. ‘Finally, he’s realized I am not worth him', she thought with satisfaction, 'I never was’.

She came out of the washroom, her eyes still shone somehow,(though not out of love), and she got into the kitchen to cook her husband’s favorite dishes.

This time, she wanted no explanations, she knew what and why life had taken this turn.

He knew he’d lost her forever now. He loved her, how could he be happy to see her disturbed over her family? Family that meant the world for her? He knew she would be guilty all her life if she left her husband like that. He thanked Nayana for calling her.

‘By now, she must have begun hating me’, he thought to himself with all his love for her.
‘By now, he must have begun hating me’, she thought to herself with all her love for him.

Games…..!!

Gaming in Love.....(Story)

‘Do u think u will be happy with him?’, he asked, as if to be sure, for the last time.

‘I don’t know about that, but are you going to do something this time or just let me go? What are you scared of? Come on, be a man.’ She tried hard, hard to make him understand the gravity of the situation she was in; more aptly, situation that she had created; unknowingly, unrightfully.

‘But we cant…how…I mean how are we going to live….there..i…you…’,he stammered.

‘Fine then, I am going to marry him. Marry him, and you sulk sitting there for the rest of your life. I have decided.’

He knew this tone. Knew it very well. He knew once she dismissed all arguments, she wouldn’t let anyone speak. He knew this was the end.

She waited for him to say something. ‘I know you love me, say it, say that you are not going to let this happen’, she said to herself, pleading Gods that he repeats her, word by word.

He didn’t say anything. She slammed the phone down harshly. He held it till tears flowed down his eyes. She stood firm for a second. Then collapsed on the couch just inches away from her.

It all started with a little game that she often liked to play whenever she wanted to test him. Test. Perhaps because it had been six long years that they had been away from each other in the physical sense; though they registered their presence in each others heart. He used to fly down to India, once a year; just to see her, to have a glimpse of the woman in life he so loved; to touch her being with his eyes; to feel her warmth with his lips. She knew it. And she loved the way he would plant a kiss here, touch her there; she missed his fingers in her hair, the passion in his eyes. She loved being in love with her boyfriend of eight years. They had traveled long- from being school mates, to friends, from friends to lovers, lovers to soulmates…but the last stretch of journey seemed to be missing. No, it wasn’t fate that had them apart, it was her. And - she knew it.

She would play these little games with him once he opted for a PG course in engineering in the US.’ Don’t go’, she’d say. ‘Its already been long since we had good times. Its been 4 long years without getting to see you often. Maybe you can try for it in a year or two?’

‘But, love, think of all the good things that I shall be able to provide for you if I become a specialist? You have always wanted that big diamond ring , I want to be able to buy it for you with my own money. And, trust me, another two years, and I would come back, talk to your mom, and…….’

Sometimes, words aren’t required.

Sure, he went. Sure, he will come back, she thought to herself many times. And then, this is the age of computers. They were in touch. They still talked for hours. She took to work after college, life got boring, people came up with new proposals for marrying her, and then, the idea struck.

She told him that a smart, handsome doctor had approached her with a proposal. He knew she was beautiful beyond words, and he knew she belonged to him. He didn’t react much. He knew she could handle this. She sent him pictures, he commented ‘Good’. She wanted him to say something, beg her to stay. He trusted nothing was in their way.

Her mother was happy. Very happy that her eldest daughter had been approached by the most eligible bachelor in the small town. How come she wasn’t aware that she’d been seeing somebody? She never hid. Probably, her mother never asked.

She decided to wait. Deep somewhere, she assured herself that he would be back and then she would disclose her desire to marry the only man she’d ever loved in her life.

The doctor, however, genuinely liked her.He was good looking, intelligent, from a good, decent family, and he earned well. Didn’t smoke or drink. Perfect marriage material, it seemed. She played with him. He fell in love.

Her mother finally announced that they would be engaged. At her surprise birthday party. The party had definitely taken her by surprise.

And he had surprised her by not coming this time.

Now that she lay on the couch, she couldn’t believe what a mess she’d made. Thoughts failed her, and the ever-ready-idea-strucker voice in her brain betrayed her.

He didn’t call back. She concluded he never loved her. The dates were announced, and shopping sprees were in full swing. She’d not seen her mother happier since her father died 15 years ago. This made her smile. Atleast someone is happy about all this. She loved her mother dearly, and so couldn’t muster up enough courage to tell her the truth that what started as a game, is making her loose herself. She couldn’t embarrass her, in front of all the in-good-times-we-show-up, in-bad-times-we-disappear relatives. For, it is entirely true, marriages in India don’t happen between individuals, but between families. And when it came to her family, it meant the world for her. She stood in front of her father’s garlanded picture, and she knew she couldn’t.

She’d not seen herself so lost in the last 25 years.

She was surprised to note that none of her friends, friends who knew of her being involved, questioned her decision. Decision to get married to a man she barely knew two months ago. ‘Maybe, Gods have willed this’, she comforted herself.

And, tied the knot. ‘Move on’, she said to herself.
He took to drinking. He took drugs. He wandered. He lost himself. And he wanted to remain lost. He refused to move on.

They relocated to another location owing to good career opportunities the big cities provided. Sure enough, both of them got to good jobs. And got busy.

Soon, she adapted to all the innate qualities that good wives must possess. She wasn’t a virgin anymore, but she hadn’t made love. She was working at middle level management at a MNC, a good amount got credited to her account each month, and she fascinated all around her with her charisma and jolly nature. She was appreciated for her work, and soon gained the respect of her colleagues. She was straight forward in her approach, and people knew when she meant business. She still wore the same ‘Attitude’ she so dearly loved. She was her natural self when her husband was not around. And she loved it.

Being at home, it was a different story. She acted like a timid, stupid, foolish woman who could do no more than cook, wash and clean. How she survives in office, her husband often thought. They barely talked of things other than work and home. She was interrupted everytime she opened her mouth, he was never open to suggestions. Her initial attempts to win his heart failed miserably, his arrogant nature never let her be herself, and this further perturbed her. He was frustrated with the marriage and chose to ignore her; she never complained. Her life changed, and days passed…

Only one thing didn’t change. Her love for him. The feeling that she had betrayed him. Many times, she thought of running away from her failing marriage. However, she stuck on. Family sakes!! She knew she wasn’t happy. Soon enough, others also began acknowledging the missing factor. Questions were raised, to which she had no answers. Deep in her heart, she constantly prayed for the times to rewind her life. She prayed to be with the man she’d only loved all her life. She couldn’t congregate enough courage to contact him. She kept a track as to where he was, through a few common friends, but strictly told them not to disclose him her whereabouts. Games!

Little did she know that fate had already planned that one fine day, they will cross ways. One fine day, she will get to see him again. Much against her wishes. Much in line with her desires.
To be continued….

His Eyes Held Me........

I looked up to meet his eyes..his eyes. The eyes that always said he cared. He loved. The eyes that showed affection to the extent that they made me believe I was ‘safe’, ‘safe’ from the callous world outside that had always wanted me to dice into pieces, ‘safe’ from all the things that I believed shouldn’t happen to me, ‘safe’ from all the misdeeds, and misgivings, the world had to offer. But no, his eyes didn’t show me all this, not even for a second. No, these couldn’t be his eyes. There was rage, fiery in its way; there was fire, burning me deep inside; and there was apprehension, of perhaps, how I would react. React?? I didn’t really know how to!! The only thing I knew was that I had failed him somehow, disappointed him at some point, and that I had, for once, made him change the color of his eyes. I tried to speak, but his eyes held me. Tears came flowing down my cheek; his eyes didn’t seem to notice. I tried to touch him, for I always believed that touch had the power that words could never transmit. I tried hard to raise my hand, but his eyes held me. I wanted to comfort him, feel his hair, a soft kiss there; I wished he would comfort me, take me in his arms, whisper something in my ears. Instead, he violently budged me, as if he wanted me to open my eyes. He shouted, and I whispered; ‘I am right here, right here beside you’. He didn’t notice. He hugged my corpse, and let his tears find the way through my dead hair to my face and lips. Again, the color of his eyes changed. They now showed pain, anguish, sorrow and emptiness. Emptiness, because my being had made him complete; and now that I was no more he was empty.

He couldn’t save me. And I failed him by submitting to death.

Gods came upto me, and told me to ensue, but, his eyes; his eyes held me.

Smitten,,,

LOVE


A feeling of passion,
A sudden craze,
An emotion full of emotions,
An unsolved maze.

A feeling of being possessed,
A person’s real image,
The destination of HEART,
Unknown and Away.


A place of imagination, The Country of LOVE,
Where one gets solace,
Love is the ruler here,
Happiness guards one,
Enemy is the world,
Loneliness- The COMPANION.

No tensions, no worries,
No time to have sweets or curries,
One name dearer then GOD,
No hassles, no hurries,

Long lasting, life time love,
Is more than the heaven’s above,
True Love purifies the Soul
And inculcates innocence as a Dove.

So Friends, Love is Life,
And We LIVE to LOVE,
Spread Love like a Virus,
Till the skies above!!