That Goofy Face

There’s always this boy. I had a minor crush on him. Then we became, sort of, friends. Every time he opened his mouth, I would always feel that I like him lesser. But then, no matter what he said, this tall boy, when he would smile his full goofy smile at me whenever he passed me by, I could feel my heart do a double somersault no matter how hard I suppressed it. His smile was big and always seemed​ to reach his eyes. 

I would avoid his eyes every time we passed each other by. Especially if it was more than once in a day. Because he smiles his big smile every single time! Even if he was annoying and taken, his smile was contagious. His smile would leave a smile on my lips which would pass on to the next person passing me by. 

He is unaware and it will stay that way. It will be my little secret corner in a small room in my head: He’s that goofy faced friend, who notices it all, and makes me smile unwittingly ever time he smiles. And my day gets better.

Mindnight Lullaby

The room was dark. She had just closed her eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. But suddenly there​ was a gush of strong breeze. The curtain rose in the air, sending the wind chimes in a tizzy. And then she heard someone jump. Startled, her eyes opened with a start.

She consoled herself that it was her mind playing dirty tricks again to steal her sleep. Stopped the anxiety before it burst out of control.

The breeze blew again bringing a relief on this night of hot summer. The wind chimes tinkling in a rhythm. Lulling her back to sleep. 

Her eyes drooped shut.

All was silent again.

That One Kiss

She would rush around the rooms of her house, her mind swirling in turmoil. Her elder daughter’s marriage was failing. Her younger daughter refused to settle down. She found no comfort in her husband’s words, rather they flared up her temper even more. So she rushed around, busied herself in work. She overworked at her hospital as a consultant. Her patients choosing her over other doctors, because of her soft, patient and sweet nature, provided her no comfort. This success was nothing. She threw herself at the kitchen to not let her thoughts overtake her sanity. Her home was where she could be herself. Even if she held herself back, she was herself. Her impatience, her irritation and her tiredness would spill out in her tone. 

This one day when her daughters were going out together they saw her brows crossed. She had her hands on her hips as she came at the door to close after them. The younger daughter called for the lift. Neither of the daughters would dare, but the younger one pushed the door open while her mother was closing it. She looked annoyed. The daughter rushed near her and planted a kiss on her right cheek and ran off to a safe distance near the lift.

The kiss seemed to melt her bitterness away. Her brows were uncrossed and she couldn’t help herself and she gave a reluctant albeit a big smile. 

For a while, in that moment, everything was perfect and fine again. 

It Is What It Is

Did I get too comfortable?
Or was it my vanity?
When everything was at my finger tips
I walked away
Leaving everything behind
Should I blame it on the youth?
Or do I call it a wondrous risk?
Embarked on a journey born from an infatuation
To see it crumble at my feet
Most often I look back
And wonder what could have been
The places I would have traveled
The heights I would achieved
Only if I would have waited, a little while longer…
But I wonder
If universe turned back time
And granted me this wish
Would I have done anything different than this?

That One Hug

They stood on the porch at four hours past midnight, as their paths awaited to be diverged again. Their adventure had come to an end. With time, the familiarity that the distance had deprived them of, was discovered in an unknown land. With time, the comfort of being themselves with each other had fallen in comfortably like that one missing puzzle of a jigsaw.

When it was time to say their goodbyes, he held his hand forward while she glared at his formality. She opened her arms timidly and he took a step forward and gave her a hug. This was not a drunken state of mind hug. This was a conscious hug. And his hug conveyed everything that maybe his words couldn’t for the last three years of knowing each other over long distance.

That one hug, opened up a box of suppressed emotions in her. But she hid her face in the dark as she saw him sit in the car and head towards the airport. She walked away towards the elevator before he could see her again from his car.

But that one hug…

The pretense icicles in her heart had melted. There was acceptance of deep attachment to another human being. She was overwhelmed and surprised with the enormity of the feelings she had for him.

She held back the dry tears that threatened to break from her eyes. She thought maybe sleep will make it easy to bear. Maybe sleep will make the ‘momentary’ feeling wash away, she thought. She went and slept on his freshly made bed.

The morning after dark was cloudy with light drizzles. The enormity of being able to feel so deeply had still successfully caught on with her as she boarded her cab towards the airport. She confided in her friend, who sat next to her with her arms on her shoulder, as she began to understand that she was simply missing him. She had gotten used to the unasked assurance from him. The unasked fulfilled promise of being by her side, no matter how, when she needed him the most. She had gotten used to his presence around her during their adventure together. As her friend held her, she let go of her pride and felt hot tears flow freely from her eyes.

It was finally the acceptance of a beautiful bond that they shared – friendship. It was a pure, unadulterated, unselfish, maybe a little selfish, friendship. It was the acceptance of letting go of her controlled boundaries and acknowledge the special place he held in her life. It was this acceptance that made her determine to make an attempt to show her emotions like he did with her all the time.

To be honest, she had taken a while to realize the emotions of his hug. Once the feeling of his arms around her shoulders was gone, only thing that remained was the warmth that he had left behind. Maybe this was their last goodbye after all.

A Slice of Life

A plethora of breeze gushed through her hair, as she stood behind the mini truck. Her hands thrown up in the air, as the truck sped through the jungle. The afternoon was sultry, but the breeze was cool. It kissed her cheeks and made her eyes water. But she smiled. She smiled, because:

For a moment, the walls around her were down;
For a moment, the voices in her head were silent;
For a moment, the anxiety that hits her chest was at bay;
For a moment, the sadness that engulfed her soul ceased to exist;
For a moment, the world was as it is supposed to be;
For a moment, everything was just right.

She stood, reminding herself that she is alive. Feeling alive. She stood and looked at the deer that had raised its head as the truck passed it by. She smiled, feeling light. She smiled because it trickled on her lips, letting go all the burden of the failures in her life. She just smiled. Simple pleasures of life.

In midst of silence, in midst of nature, in midst of nowhere, she found herself. A renewed strength. A glimpse of who she was. A glimpse of the path to find herself back again. A renewed gusto bubbled within her to get up every morning and look forward to something, anything. It broke the membrane in her mind which had always made her feel like a failure.

A sense of plan. A sense of goal. A sense of curiosity. A will to live. The courage to accept. The wisdom to forgive herself. A want to try again.  The courage to trust and hope. A want to be free.

She had tasted a slice of life, all over again.

 

My Bad

Doing things when sane, when high, when stoned, being what I am in that moment, too spontaneous, making you so uncomfortable with my tongue, that I’m considered too bold for your taste. You love me. You would love to hate me. 

I already said something. Again.

Oopsie.
—..

Psst: Don’t you wish, you could be like that?
Be yourself that is, with unadulterated truth.

My Pseudo Adrenaline Pump

I have come to believe that there is no such thing as hate. But there is rage, pure rage. That is the monster in us that everyone keeps talking about. What the monster wants to do is as they say, “The urge to hurt someone real bad”. It is not the urge to hurt, it is the urge to speak out the ultimate unadulterated truth. It just slips out. There is no control over our mind and hence the tongue.

It is like one large shot of adrenaline. It pumps in some weird kind of energy. This feeling is beyond anger. There is infinite energy to climb a thousand stairs and pure lust to be nothing but practical. Pure lust to punish people by being blindly practical by discarding their whims of superiority in silence. Emasculating people subtly off their ego and pride.

It feels good. Right then, it is uncontrollably out of control. Vision is sharp. I feel like I’m hunting and idiocy is my prey. It is enjoyed while the shot lasts. Eventually, remorse follows.
—..

Her Experiments With The Truth

Naked truth has no respect. You know the basics about her, and yet you try to discard that truth when she gently tries to remind you about it. Until she slaps you with the naked truth. Plain, raw truth, in the most beautiful form. And you shake her calm emotions by indirectly insulting her by simply “forgetting” her basic truth, her basic element which defines her. Her core, which she had carefully and patiently built over the years.

Whatever happened to “I appreciate straightforward honesty?”

So much of double standards in this land.

The truth is appreciated only when it is a lie. The lie is the prisoner of truth, which escapes by hammering your core. This is what you want her to do. This is what you are making her do.

Don’t build your core with porcelain.
—..