If you forget me...

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

- By: Pablo Neruda

My ephemeral reverie...

I wake up and I'm still in my dream.It feels like my subconscious is a little relaxed and allows me a little more time in my morning dream.It won't take a genius to guess that it's your afterglow.The hangover, as my friends term it.Your smile is wicked, has anyone ever mentioned that?You smile, like you know my secret, like you've caught my mischief, you smile with ulterior motives.Your smile makes me smile, the sparkle in your eyes searches for the same in my eyes.Everytime I see you, my legs feel weak, I feel the need to sit next to you, your arm around mine, whispering your first name in your ear and blushing at the sweet nothings you say.Is it real?I pinch myself and even though I feel the sting, some part of me knows this is surreal.I'll wake up any minute now, I need to live every moment of this reality masquerading as a dream or is it a dream trying to be real?
I want to thaw at your exterior and reach out to the person you're inside.I want to laugh at your childlike charm and the innocent humour, know the bad things you did, the good things you didn't,your worst nightmare, your sweetest memory, your favourite word, your overwhelming moment.I need to know you for real, even as the very word is fast losing it's meaning in my dreamy mind.
We fit together, perfectly.Not a little gap in our symmetry, no crevice to misguide an intention, no faulty terrain to doubt an expression.I complement you, you complement me.We can be as contradictory as dreams and reality but at one instant, when a dream seems real or as reality transcends the borders of imagination, we are that instant in our sleepy lives.Teach me your heart and learn my thoughts, we've got very little time.I'll wake up any day, any minute now.Prolong my dream, a little further.Hold me in my fantasy transition.My ephemeral reverie, stay with me, let me dream, just a little longer...

Emotional infidelity...

"It's cold tonight,innit?"

"Do you need a jacket?I can run downsairs and grab one."

"Na.It's fine.Sipping wine is warm enough."

"So how was your day?"

"Not great.My son din't get into the school football team.He's been answering me in monosyllables for a week now.And my daughter thinks I hate her."

"Ah.Teenage angst.How old are they anyway?The last time I saw your son,I guess he was 8."

"He is 13 now.My girl is 18.Time slips through like sand,doesn't it?"

"Yeah.I have stopped counting the years I have been trying to..."

"I understand."

"She won't let me not try,you know.She just can't accept it-my helplessness and her failure."

"I hope everything will be fine.I can't imagine how hard it must be for her."

"That's the problem.Everyone knows her story-her longing,her desperation.What about me?Am I just a tool for her happiness,literally and figuratively?It's not that I don't want a kid.I can keep going on if I see even a glimpse of hope.I just can't..."

"Take your time."

"I just can't see the look on her face after every negative result.I see my own inadequency etched on her face.I'm tired..."

"Life sucks huh?Tell me about it!I got a call from a hotel in Ooty last week.They told me that my husband and his 'wife' had left behind a bag in the honeymoon suite."

"Oh.I'm so sorry."

"Don't be.He isn't that dumb you know,to give them his residence number.He wanted me to find out,I guess."

"That makes it worse."

"Just the same.He never cared for me anyway.Atleast he was considerate enough to let me know and save me all the trouble of finding out.Ironic."

"Did you confront him?"

"It isn't necessary.He understood.I'm mellow now.Acceptance looks so easy on the surface doesn't it?"

"Are you going to separate?"

"Would you?"

"That's not my answer."

"I can't tell that thought hasn't crossed my mind.But I can never do that to my kids.They are all I have."

"That's not true."

"I know"

"You do?"

"Isn't that kinda implicit?"

"Thank you for that.She says 'I love you' so many times,the words chain me with moral obligation."

"Don't we all?More often than not obligation is something you din't wish for."

"Isn't that why it becomes an obligation?"

"It does"

"It does"

"There's no moon tonight.Don't you love it that way?"

"Yes.The sky gives me companionship in my darkness."

"What about the stars?"

"There's always something to hold on to"

"I know"

"I'm glad you do"

"What say?Let's drink our troubles away?While your wife awaits her non-virile husband....."

"And your extra virile husband awaits his mistress....."

"Cheers"

"Cheers"

Comfort of a stranger...

I dint think it was possible.It did happen though.The title seems quite fascinating, doesn't it?Well I thought so too.I spoke to someone for quite some time a couple of days ago, happened to get my interest piqued.It felt surreal, other world-ly.People looked at me in a funny way, trying hard to look past my smiling eyes.I dint care, apathy is still one of my strongest points.We spoke about things I always speak about:music, movies, books.It seemed like a really weird viva session I guess, at least to him it did.This would just have been another lame conversation in my mind had it not been for the fact that it made my day.It wasn't phenomenal in any sort of way, it was unsurprisingly mundane.There wasn't a spectacular exchange of ideas.Now that I think about it, he probably got bored.But it doesn't matter because I may not have been important to him, even momentarily, in any way but he seemed like a saviour to me.After an entire week of depression and rising levels of melancholia, the conversation was soothing.Someone to talk to, someone who doesn't know me well yet, I can be a new person every time I make a new friend. I know it seems quite hypocritical of me but it isn't too much to ask for, is it?A little mystery to my already boring personality is quite a welcome change.So I take comfort in the fact that I got out of my 'phase'.It was a nice conversation and I couldn't help smiling at each of his lines.A little peek into his dream and a little opening up was all it took to make me commit to that moment.

As of now, I don't know what's on his mind, if there is anything on his mind regarding this.Maybe he is in a different place, I do not know.But just the charm of the memory, the bus ride, the jokes and the conversations makes me smile and makes me write, yet again...

My yesterday...

It's a pathetic attempt but I thought I had to write it...

I have tried,

And failed, several times,

To plaigiarise,

The working of your mind,

I wish I could have been,

What you always needed,

Instead I was always the second best,

Not quite something you wanted,

It breaks my heart,

When I think of us being apart,

Time heals, they say,

But all I want is a little more of my past,

A chance to do it all again,

One more time, I wish I could say,

What you mean to me, my love,

I wish I could live my yesterday...

I wish I could say something better,

Than the cliches I used,

A little more silence could bring us closer,

Could get you interested, get you seduced,

I want to kiss the tear,

That clings to your eye,

After a sad movie, a great book,

With you, I'd cry,

Let me get lost in your hair,

In the fragrance of the ebony mane,

Let me caress you once more,

And fall in love with you again,

I wish I could turn back time,

Just for once, just for today,

I wish I could win you back,

I wish I could live my yesterday...

And the hardest part...

Is letting go, I know, I know.I think I've officially entered my brand new phase of being low.Yes, it's new and guess what, it hurts too.I read about people who feel lonely in a crowd and that loneliness is a state of mind rather than a physical state of being.Now I know how it feels, the crushing extent of it.I sit here among my friends and try to laugh at their jokes and join in their conversations even as my mind tells me it's not working.Sooner or later, people will look through your facade, they'll know you are trying hard to feel accepted, to accept.Someday, someone will look past my big talk, look through my indifference and discover my innate feeling of being unbelonged.Someone will probably know why I hum 'All by myself' everytime I'm in a group.It is so automatic, it surprises me.

It's really hard to socialise, not quite as easy I imagined it to be.I always thought to myself I can make the transition anytime I want, I can smoothly slide over to the 'I'm friendly' state.But I find it harder, as I try hard to look into someone's eyes and keep a smile for a decent moment, I find it much harder each passing day, each passing minute.

I look through my contacts and think who'd understand me if I were to express what I feel right now.I find people who may listen, who may advise but I don't feel like sharing.I know that talking about it will probably lighten the apparent burden of it but it's hard to explain.I don't want to explain.And yet again, I'm here, writing about this mess in my mind because it's too frustrating to be the only one to talk to.It's liberating, it's my anti-depressant.

I probably make too much of a big deal about what goes on in my mediocre life.But it helps to think you're problems are important even if you aren't quite so...

The third extreme...

I had my share of criticism yesterday from my brother and a teacher of mine.Both of them told me that I wasn't 'to the point'; that my mind was everywhere but where it 'should' be.Firstly, I think I'm the one who decides where my mind actually 'should' be.I think I earned that right by having opaque thoughts.Secondly, now if I think about it, it makes sense why I'm that way. It's gotta do with the creativity. I don't think a creative person can have a myopic mind.I think art, literary or visual, is all about being broad minded, thinking in all possible ways. The permutations and combinations of thoughts are endless.How can anyone explain 'the point' of the Mona lisa?What is 'the point' anyway?The point that she's smiling?Even a smile, human art, cannot be completely to the point.All I can say is that if you're broad minded enough, creative enough(which are relative by the way), you can never be 'to the point', you can never be precise.It doesn't matter if you can't arrive at a conclusion.It's the innate human need of trying to reason out everything.Heck, me writing shows how much I'm trying to reason the criticism!I know it can be exhausting some times when there's no point to a book, or a song, but the beauty of it overshadows reason.It's the thought after all that counts at the end.Atleast to me, it does.There's always a slight percentage of fiction in fact and vice versa.Just as there's always the possibility of unsurity in most of the things!