If you came back

I have loved you too much and I didn't know it then, I assure you it didn't feel dangerous or risky or testy. It just felt incredibly good to have liked you and trusted you and so loved you. Even for the smallest moment, I didn't really think about reciprocation or the expectations or if love should be conditional or unconditional. Nothing specific but everything evident. It was pure and simple. There was so much to love and that was it.

I miss you now. The one and the many. It's not the yearning which bothers me. I am slowly making my peace with it. What troubles me is the thought of what I would do if you just came back to have a place in my life. If you came back with that smile and that look. I don't think I would even care to ask why. Just that thought; of having you back, in spite of everything arms wide open- that bothers me.  But I wonder now, would I do it any other way? would I mind if it was clear that it would hurt? Would I mind the conditions of love? Would I even bother to think?

Pain?

There is a strange kind of comfort in pain that I will admit.

It tells me, I feel. It tells me, I care. I know that I handled some and it gives me strength to go through more. It gives me much more strength and resolve than the plain routine could ever give. I feel more in control and more willing to change. The ferocity and passion that pain brings, I don't think anything could ever get close.

For I understand this pain and the self-affirmation it brings, its constant company I know will destroy me.

It scares me, knowingly and unknowingly too. Facing the hurt and avoiding hurt are independent for me. I try and run from it and be ever so cautious should it come back in new forms. I try and spare myself, not being too successful. This brings back with freshness the thoughts of 'why can't I just let go'.

It takes a little bit of me every single time while all I crave for is my innocence to be back. To still believe despite .., to still hope although.., and to still imagine. Does it make sense to you when I say that I am scared of the day I will stop believing and hoping and imagining the possibilities?

As much as I find myself in the aches and pains, I don't want to lose myself in it. Not to a point where my innocence is stolen and not to the point where naked burning pain alone is left to explain everything that has been.

The art of letting go

To think a minute and talk the next

For the head to work more than the heart

To save yourself from all the hurt

To reserve your patience for another day

Fearing the time you would heard that name

To smile without a tug in the heart 

To still love and to still care.

An art in itself, letting go.

Just enough to save the hurt 

and dull the pain to a bearable beat.

Realizations

If not for the last word, I would have never known
How much you mean to me
and how little I mean to you.

A step back and I disappear.
Its safer now. Harder too.
But for now, I breathe.

The strange kinds of inessential love.

In search for solace, i look everywhere
The times are never hard but i still keep looking

The places I have never seen
The things that were never done
The people that i always want
They give me hope.
The feeble kind which rests the threatening fear.

What's so wrong when everything is right
that you always have to look for a place?

Always on the look out here and there but never brave enough to look inside?

Everything you see!

And then you discover that you have forgotten to love.
You have forgotten the simpler beauties and you refuse to see them.
Where are your eyes then and where is your mind? Where is it put?

If you walk through the road with the yellowed green leaves,
all alone, do you still feel the peace?

If you stood on the sand in the unending beach,with the sand and the water rinsing your feet,
does it still bring you calm?

If you looked at the stars and felt all the wind rush through your hair,
does it still make you breathe?

If you find a good day with brightest of light shining through those precious green leaves,
does it still bring a smile?

If there was love before you in the simplest of forms, always and everywhere,
do you still take it?

Do you refuse to see all the gentle good things?
Does it still matter that it hurt you just once?
If you could just take it all, no questions asked..
Just once.. that's all.
I hope it does change everything you see.

Life in the woods!

I was 15 years old when I first heard of him. A lesson in my English text book spoke about a person, a philosopher unlike others. A person inspired by paternal figures, a person who did oddest of jobs until one day he went into the woods. His life in the woods was fascinating to hear about - a small cabin with no neighborhood and for a period of two years by the walden pond. There from his life in the woods, came a book called Walden. Now I wanted to read what he wrote in it, what his life in the woods was all about. If it was easy, hard, a relief or an escape. As much as I was expecting from the book, I was warned that it speaks of the most redundant things about daily life describing how to dig a ditch and how he conversed with random visitors. This made me put off reading the book. I was an avid fiction reader and I had no patience for realistic non-fiction let alone the themes in the book which were beyond my comprehension then.

Now this April, I was in Blossom book house (http://4sq.com/1EfOl5c) and in the dizzying piles of books, between the rows of old editions I spotted walden. An aged look with a crinkled bluish book cover and yellowed pages better yet it was the first edition in India. Unspeakably happy, I came home along with it.

To be continued..

The other man

Do you know the man that lives beside you?
Do you know of his deepest fears and dearest joys?
Of his abilities or only of his faults?
Have you tried at all, to know this one?
Did you spend all that time talking about those nothings?
Did you eat, laugh and live with him?
Seriously though do you know this man-the one that lives besides you?

Loop

To say enough and not a word more,
such a rarity, but never mine.

I confide, I confess and maybe I smother,
Always the mistake, forever mine.

Still the wall is up where it shouldn't be.
The words don't come when they should,
only a joke to get over the moment.
The peace doesn't stay,
only the energy filling the unrest.

Today again after more than a year, he looks into those eyes. With awe and admiration, and with such love that was not meant to be. She smiles back a little with those searching eyes, unknowingly disturbing. His resolutions tumbled and hope flared again.

Titled

I'm tired of the energy where I jump around because it is too depressing to walk. I see that it amuses you, but I wonder if you would ever realize that it is just a cover up for what i actually feel. I am scared of the steep down so i just hop a bit higher. I wonder if I do this to keep myself happy or the others around me. I haven't figured it out yet. Almost everything is too loud sometimes and I take a breath and fake a smile. The scary part is that I'm becoming good at it. I would prefer my corner any day without the need to explain to the overcritical everyone who read two lines in the one that i say.

I'm tired now. So i will take a break. I won't start that conversation with you. I want to become as aware of my words as I am of myself.  For at least sometime I should stop the animation because I don't really feel it.

Figments

Did they see the smoke going up, did they see the fall?
Did they see the perfect set turn into a knot?
Did they see the twists in the tale or were we just too blind?

Do they still see it plain, does it still look perfect?

Did you see the mess they have made?
Did you see it all?
The mighty strong house of cards, shall surely some day fall.

Alone

The empty roads and the windy breeze,
the clear blue sky and the swaying leaves,
bring a silent smile to my heart.

I think about nothing and feel so little
I walk a little slower with head a bit higher.
It gives me the happy that is never too high
neither too chirpy, just content and light.