You’re There For me, All The Time..

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‘Please don’t say anything, just… Walk along.’

‘You’re saying, we should walk on this beach quietly? See this beautiful tint the sun had spread upon the sky while going down, feel this cool wind fondling our hair, and this touch of soft sand sending goosebumps into our bodies through our bare feet. And above all, we are holding each other’s hand. How romantic is this! And you want me walk quietly?’

‘Yes, you’re right. Everything is romantic. I’m asking you to walk along quietly because… Because I want to feel someone is there for me all the time. Someone is there no matter what is happening to me, good or bad, how I am, happy or sad, healthy or sick, how I look, handsome or ugly, who I am, mature or childish, sensible or irrational, successful or failure, I don’t know. I just want you to be there. I want to feel this when I am holding​ your hand and you’re saying nothing. But assuring me with the touch of your hand that you are and will always be there for me. The crazy fact is, I just want to feel that emotion.. You are there… For me, all the time.’

Who Left That Window Ajar

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I don’t know who left that window ajar. I stepped into his room to gather his clothes, but my gaze diverted toward the rays of sunlight infiltrating into the room. I opened the window and peered into the sky. A tint of yellow and blue spread across it. A cool breeze of the evening caressed my body. A kid is chasing another kid on the street ecstatically​, both of them filled with delight.

Everything is supposed to make me feel blithesome. No, it failed. When this heavy heart has to drift an unfathomable sorrow for the rest of the life and all attempts to run toward gayety go in vain, the turbulent riot inside becomes unstoppable, sometimes unbearable. Who can obliterate his fond, bitter memories? I remember my tumultuous wail of pain howling inside these four walls a year ago on the same day. 

My life ceased at that moment when I realized the blood won’t circulate anymore into his veins, he won’t respond to my call, he won’t see anything, and his heart won’t beat anymore. He was 27. That appealing call from a stranger that night gave me ineffable sensations​. I rushed to the hospital and doctor conveyed that the fate deprived me of the best person in the world.

Everyone reassured that my life isn’t over. I can’t change what happened, but I must not lose hope. I think he wants the same. That’s why he left this window ajar. So he could say hi to me through this breeze and instill a ray of hope through these rays entering through the slit. These clothes absorbed all the love he had and now they are permeating it in the air I am breathing into. I can try to convince myself all I want. The crazy fact is, two people demised that day. A son and… a mother.

The Twist Of The Fate

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Her supercilious demeanor, impenetrable eyes, quick wit, and bewitching countenance bore an aura of a girl whose loftiness would put the place on fire if evoked. She was the girl whom no one dared to mess with. I knew my reticent, tight-lipped behavior would complement hers. I extemporized my feelings when I approached her. I quavered a little, but she clearly heard my subdued impassioned murmur. I guess it was because a warmth flowed through my speech. The vague expression was comprehensible to her through my incomprehensible words. But her sharp gaze was dawned on me as if it was preparing itself to tear up my heart.

Finally, I muttered last words, ‘Will you go on a date with me?’

I alerted my cheeks to hold weight of tears as her gaze sharpened. My obscure expression made no impact than offending her, it seemed. But I was wrong. She said yes. I was hit by a thunderbolt with her assent.

I asked her, this time articulating my thoughts. ‘Why did you agree? I wasn’t even confident, or expressive. And for a girl of your caliber, I don’t stand a chance. Then why?’

She replied in a courteous, yet confident manner, ‘For the same reason you approached me. You have a tender curiosity to know how I became who I am today. Similarly, you have your side of story too. I want to know what made you an inarticulate, lowly person. Circumstances, experiences, to summarize, stories shape the character of a person. I want to know your story.’

Then she promised to meet me and I looked at her stone-faced as she walked away.

The crazy fact is, the fate takes twists when we take chances.

Choose To Be A Human

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Sometimes I forget to be natural.
I try to act perfect.
I forget I can become vulnerable too.
I just have to accept what I feel.

Just be who I am.
Just throw away the mask.
Just turn on the true face.
I should not pretend I am fine.

If I’m sad, I don’t have to,
again, pretend I’m good.
If I’m happy, I don’t have to,
wonder how I can be happy?

Is there something wrong?
Is there something I missed?
No, no, no.
I don’t have to pretend to be normal.

I forget I have feelings,
It doesn’t demand perfection.
It’s natural to be imperfect.
It’s natural to be a human.

It will take time to pull myself together,
But denial to accept my vulnerabilities,
It will work against me.
People around me notice that.

But I notice that after it happened.
Then I realize I don’t have to do that.
I must accept my feelings,
Even though they make me vulnerable.

The crazy fact is,
Imperfections make us humans,
Trying to be perfect only make us robots,
We must choose to be a human.

We Believe In Same Thing, Simplicity.

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‘Hello, you are Gauri, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘I need your two minutes. You know, we believe in same thing, simplicity. So I’m going to keep it simple. A lot of guys in my office are talking about you. She is cute, she is cute. Yes, you are cute. Then I checked your Facebook profile. I found that you are passionate about belly dancing. And it intrigued me. I like people who are passionate about something. I’m a writer. I work as a writer here. I also love to write poetry, short stories, shayri, and reading books. So I was saying, I would definitely like to get to know you better. Tell me if it is possible.’

‘Sorry, I’m afraid it’s not. I can’t give you my time.’

‘Cool. Nice to talk to you.’

‘Same here.’

As she turned away, I called her. ‘One more thing. I admire your dance teacher, Aliza. She is an inspirational woman. Tell her a random guy said that.’

I turned around and she called me. ‘You’re wrong.’

‘About what?’ I said.

‘About one thing in common. We have two things in common. I also think she is an inspirational woman.’

‘Yeah, of course.’

‘And I’ll tell her my friend said that.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘But don’t tell her I stalked her on Facebook too.’

‘I will, if you don’t accept my friend request by today.’

The crazy fact is, simplicity posses enormous power, but beliefs posses power to make impossible possible.


(Image courtesy of photostock at FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

I’m Afraid To Be Happy

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I’m afraid to be happy,
Whenever I get happy,
Some strange sensations,
Frightening thoughts,
Run through my mind.

Is this really happening?
I wonder,
If it’s happening,
Is it happening with me?
I’m not able to believe.

Even if I try to believe,
I want to make sure,
That this is not a conspiracy,
Of a destiny to prepare me,
For a blow-off that may follow.

The crazy fact,
Because whenever I felt happy,
The next moment followed,
With a blow,
Some of them were unbearable.
I only wish,
Happiness stays for long this time.


(Image courtesy of Suriya Kankliang at FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

All I Needed To Do 

Seeking validation.
Demanding approval.
Hardwired brain.

Compromising ethics.
Diminishing happiness.
Anguished cry.

The crazy fact,
All I needed to do was,
Be myself.