The one where there are no words left

''Go after her. Fuck, don't sit there and wait for her to call, go after her because that's what you should do if you love someone, don't wait for them to give you a sign cause it might never come, don't let people happen to you, don't let me happen to you, or her, she's not a fucking television show or tornado. There are people I might have loved had they gotten on the airplane or run down the street after me or called me up drunk at four in the morning because they need to tell me right now and because they cannot regret this and I always thought I'd be the only one doing crazy things for people who would never give enough of a fuck to do it back or to act like idiots or be entirely vulnerable and honest and making someone fall in love with you is easy and flying 3000 miles on four days notice because you can't just sit there and do nothing and breathe into telephones is not everyone's idea of love but it is the way I can recognize it because that is what I do. Go scream it and be with her in meaningful ways because that is beautiful and that is generous and that is what loving someone is, that is raw and that is unguarded, and that is all that is worth anything, really.''

Control - how to

Keep it simple and play it cool.

un-do

I want to erase words that were never written, unthink thoughts, untouch arms and unsee smiles.

It's non-negotiable, this, where I'm at. It's more than I asked for, far more than I can chew. It makes me feel old and tired, as if I've made too many mistakes already, as if I have none left on my account. Makes me feel irredeemable.

It's in your face, just get it already.

My worlds seem to be colliding. I hate when people get jealous. I hate what jealousy can do to a friend or a lover or even just an acquaintance. Sometimes, I know jealousy. It's plain and in your face. I see it for what it is.

Like today, when I told him about him. He was different immediately. He asked me a thousand things. Cross-questioned and questioned. The answers to his questions came fast and easily. Questions, I would have found offensive, if asked by someone else. But he knows the answers deep down and more than knows, he deserves them. But it was jealousy on his part that prompted the questions, maybe even a slight pang of regret. I saw it, I knew it. I felt it. I enjoyed it.

Sometimes though, I can't tell - can't tell why someone acts the way they do, can't tell if they're jealous or just hate me, if they love me or want my love to go away. Like my friend, C. The question of C being jealous of me or anything to do with my life never arose, until today, when someone suggested it.

Today when everything came crashing down on me. When I truly realised how much I depend on C, for his reassurance, his friendship and love. I realised it and showed it to him all in one breath. Showed it with such surety, that he reacted. He closed himself. And someone suggested that he's jealous. I don't believe he is. Is he always happy for me when good things happen to me? I don't believe he is. Doesn't qualify as jealousy. It could just be, and probably is just, a fear of someone or something familiar, moving away to better things - becoming busy with life and just not having the time of day.

I love him. It isn't love like that though, not the kind that comes with lust. I have considered that possibility, looked into it, argued for it and against it. I know it isn't that kind and can never be. It's just a comfortable love, of knowing that I have met my match. Knowing that this is me, in the flesh, just someone else's. I know he gets me, I know I get him. We share the same insecurities often and the realise the same things. Maybe, I'll never admit to this. Maybe, neither will he. I know he knows me and it is a lot like knowing himself.

I hate writing this because I know how it makes me sound. Like I believe I am someone to be envied. I do not believe this, on any count. I know my strengths, fairly well. And I know where I fall short all too well. I don't envy the person I portray myself to be. I don't envy the true me. I wouldn't.

Just jump.

It tires me to wait;

Exhausts me to hope.

Love or un-love.

It’s quietly comfortable,

To share a goal.

It burns to realize the possible answers

My questions to you;

Are for them and those to come

I already know you

I hate the games I have to play;

The power that must be got,

The sureness you are waiting for.

It tires me to wait;

Exhausts me to wonder

Tires me to question;

Exhausts me to plan

you confuse me.

There’s a hand on my forehead and an arm around my shoulder, my skin is burning and my eyes are almost orange from the sunshine. Tired and weepy, I look at you and can’t believe you’re the same person who said those things just a few hours ago. You look so warm and comforting, so welcoming, so protective. How are you so different now?
Now that it’s you and me, it’s not funny anymore. It’s not a game; I’m not your toy. It’s not a joke or a series of faux pas. In this moment we know each other, we just get it.It’s you and me…and an expanse of eighteen patches of perfect grass. Eighteen greens and a long walk -- you hand me a small white ball with something scribbled across its 250-odd dimples.
There it is, the phrase I love – the one I never told you about – my head reeling, I start to ask you how…
…my worlds collide. And now you’re gone, you’re not you anymore. We’re not alone now, surrounded by crowds, who don’t know or understand. By nosey know-it-alls, who want to save me from you... my joy, my salve, my sweet surrender. If only they knew how far I've fallen…

our first date, you weren't even single.

I don't know what I want. I remember being in this position about a year ago. Faced with almost the same complications and same questions. I took a leap of faith last time, and fell...hard..flat on my face. This time, something is holding me back...not something within me...something external. I would go for it again, it feels more exciting than the last time, more fun and much more dangerous. Except, this time the decision isn't in my hands...not yet anyway :-)
Maybe there are forces at work that I can't see, maybe it's him and maybe it's just me.
This last week has been a blur. I feel so happy to feel what I feel, but it's that kind of happiness you feel unsure about, the outcome of which may or may not be good. But just to feel like this, is different.
I wanted to decide whether I'm happy or unhappy or angry or sad. I think it's a new and happy feeling. I've decided not to worry about what comes of it. I've decided to embrace this for what it is and to take whatever comes, in my stride.

knock and the door shall be...

Something I read today, struck a nerve. Suppose we really found him. What if, He met us today? I know I’m not ready. I know there are things I’ve done that I haven’t been able to ask forgiveness for, mostly because I haven’t dealt with them actually happening.
In suggesting that for the most part, we’re playing around with the image of God, one of my favourite writers seems to have said the wisest thing.
Because really, what are we looking for when we say we search for God? A counselor, a friend? Forgiveness? Someone to thank? Someone to ask ‘why me?’ I know I search for different things in God, on different days. Comfort seems to be the word that encompasses all of them...
"But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you."

[Fiction]

And so I thought of your room today.
Your lights are always on whenever I drive past and I wonder what you do in there all the time. I remember the first time you took me there, the way I felt. I was trying to hide myself in some way. Hide fear, hide scars, hide inexperience, hide drunkenness. I remember your smile, the one you’ve flashed me so often, and the one I shy away from every time I see it. Life feels surreal when I’m with you, like an excerpt from a racy novel. You don’t feel like the other people I meet. I look up to you in a different way. You constantly surprise me.
When we talk after, while you smoke a cigarette and ash it, I watch your fingers. I love feeling the sound of your voice fill my head. Sometimes I tune out the words and then it’s just a sound, a kind of music. I understand you, in so many ways. Your eccentricities all make sense to me.
When we talk before, I feel my stomach go into a knot. I feel my forehead moistening. I wonder what’ll happen and I wait. I even find that I hold my breath sometimes.
You’re always honest with me, sometimes subtly, sometimes brutally. I feel like you’re always careful not to hurt my feelings too much. You don’t like it when I play down my abilities, but when I big myself up, you break me.
We talk often – at dinners, on drives and on my terrace. We talk of our ideals, our dreams and how everything is so eff-ing wrong. We never talk about us though, and when we do, even in jest, I don’t say much. You say – we’re this and we’re that. I listen and smile, and nod. To an outsider, it may seem like I don’t think about our relationship, but in truth, I have analysed it, over-analysed it, dissected it, in every way possible.

Uhhh

I’m bored. I feel like I’ve said (or typed) those words so many times in the last 2 years!! To everyone I meet online, in response to a text, in conversations over dinner at work, when asked ‘What’s up’ in the rest room, when you call, when she calls, when he calls or even…when I call.


When anyone asks me why I did it, and they often do, my answer is usually – boredom.


My friend asked me this over drinks the other day and then said sternly, don’t compromise. And so I thought about ideals today. We all have them.


Mine....


I want him to be a wearer of solid colours; who looks amazing in a suit.
I want to be able to fit into his life and have him fit into mine easily.
Someone tall, with nice arms and hands, dark hair and dark eyes.
Someone who will be there to pick me up and to drop me off.
Someone who can write; is good with words and well-read.
Someone I can brag about and who can brag about me.
I want a sense of humour, sarcasm and quick retorts.
I want someone who I can talk to about anything.
I want someone who is respectful and refined.
Someone with a spine, someone confident.
I want him to be able to tick me off.
I want someone self-assured.
I want him to be articulate.
I want hugs and smiles.
I want faithfulness.
I want chivalry.
I want bravery.
And honesty.
Passion.
Love.
You.
Us.

It was a relationship too.

I thought of the day I reached there, standing at the door, bending slightly, looking down at the stairs, arms wide open, holding my breath, waiting…and then hugging you tight…!:) You were wearing a beige trench coat and a Burberry scarf. So chav, she said. But you smelt of you, of October and just the way I imagined for the two months we’d been apart. That was my favorite moment. That is also my nicest memory of you and us.
I actually thought of you when I landed on my friend’s Facebook profile and saw pictures of her in at the same place we were. Same pool, same lawns, same restaurant, same towels, same little beach. And that is when I thought of you and whether I should write about you. Justify ‘us’ with a mention to the world. Or keep you a secret from the people who think differently of me.

Remember, remember ...

I want to spend the whole afternoon writing, falling in love with words. A glass of iced tea, memories and the wonderful weather. I often wonder about us, about how something so right could have been so wrong.
I’m so happy with what I decided today. I felt like I was going to fall deeper than I could ever imagine and never resurface, and I so wanted to fall.
I wrote to him some months back, when I was dating the now-ex. I wrote to him, a “remember” mail. Remember us, the way we were, our blogs, our emails, our meetings that were always too short…remember that usual text every morning at 10 a.m. my time, 8:30 yours.
So then I went back to that blog, where my life began. I decided to just pick a date. And I found his only ode to me. I remember our first meeting, it was the 17th of May in 2005. I remember feeling cold on that hot summer evening. I remember us sitting on the pavement and just fading. My dear friend, who I love with all my heart, said that that was the only time “her Z” ever loved. I believe that on some days. Some days I think that love will be much MORE, when it happens, if it does.
There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love.

Saying goodbye with words

Words to remember me by,
When you’re alone or in crowds,
For you to never miss me.
For you to always love me.


Words to remind you,
That you’ve been the best for me
Nothing before ever compares
Nothing ahead will ever measure up


Words to tell you….
That I’m just a common girl
Looking to be made uncommon by loving you


Words to show you,
That I care more than I can say


Words to assure you that I’m here for you
Your every waking moment and through every night
Whether far or near,


Words promising you
That this what we share,
It is ours, just ours.

I'm all this and more

I’m a cynic.
I wonder about how some men treat some women.
I think aerobics in the morning is a scene from Desperate Housewives.
I’m wondering about beautiful strangers in wonderfully well made kurtis.
I’m waiting for summer sunshine that’s already arrived and April showers in March.
I’m hoping for waves to sweep me off my feet, and to catch me off guard.
I’m warm in my bed with just a cotton sheet.
I’m content in my room with white curtains and pale yellow bed covers.
I’m eager for a busier everyday and sleepier every-night.
I’m laughing at myself for being so silly.
I’m sad about the realizations some people might have had today or yesterday.


I’m winning and it feels good.
I’m learning to lose and it feels even better.
I’m happy.
I’m anxious about how it will be.
I’m thankful for what I have now.
And prayerful for what I want.

say hello already

Certain things - like sitting under a starry sky or on sandy shores, make us remember the ones we love and think of love we want.
How things have changed and remained exactly the same.


When we were children, we would watch An Officer and a Gentleman and dream our little dreams in quick succession. How easy it is for children to imagine a world full of love, honour, chivalry and faithfulness. How easy to believe that you will grow up, meet the person you're meant to be with and then live happily ever after.


Faithfulness is such a strong word, so difficult and so meaningful.
I pray that God keeps you faithful and blesses you. 

if this is it, then i'll just say no

"love is a funny thing" you say.

is this the most you have ever loved someone?

if this is love, then i ask it a million questions.

if you tell me this is it, can i ask if i am the only one for you?

if we plan a life together, can you tell me if you believe in soul mates?

if you do, am i yours and are you mine?
if this is our story, then why does it have so many loose ends?
if laughter, so frequent, fades so quickly into the night, shouldnt we worry?

but a life without questions, problems and solutions isnt worth living at all.

if this is life, then i embrace it

Are you full? Of me?

It’s so amazing how relationships change…or how they evolve. How they go from being everything to us, to being nothing, a distant memory, an occasional phone call, a random forwarded email or text message. How do two people go from talking every day, almost every hour, to hardly remembering one another.
How do we carelessly discard those that meant so much to us just a few months back. How do I make the biggest decisions without so much as informing you?
How do two people go from being inseparable to forgetting about each other’s existence? Does love die? Do feelings change? Do we get bored? Do we have our fill...of curiosity, of sex, of long conversations, of wanting to know more about another.
What happened to all of that, I ask myself. I search for the answer and find it. Life happened. People move on, things change, feelings change. And just like little children, we lose interest. We move ahead, towards greener pastures and bluer skies, funnier jokes and easier conversation. We go towards new horizons and stand at new thresholds…

Broken promises, unsworn swears

I swore to myself that I would never fall in love with you. I knew the day we met, on that warm summer morning, that you would be in my life forever.
There was an air of arrogance around you. But I got a strange sense of comfort from knowing that I could decipher your actions. You felt naïve. You felt fresh. Worn out, but untouched.
It took me two days of talking to you for endless hours, to figure out, that I was going to go back on my promise. 
You didn’t steal anything from me. You were a breath of fresh air. You were closure for me. You were peace.
You talked to me with a calmness I’d never heard. With ease and confidence.
You opened my life to a world I never knew existed. Showed me things I never saw and said things to me I didn’t expect anyone to think.
I believe there is much more to what we share. Even though we might be random acquaintances on some days.

remembering to remember

The thought of you still makes my mind swirl.
A single dream turns into an obsession,
And I awake, deep in regret.
The thought of us pains me still, of what could have been, of what would have been.
I spend the day thinking of you and me, of how everything was alright and then suddenly, it wasn’t. Everything is done. Promises have been broken and new ones made. Lives have changed.
As I sit here, trying so hard, to love another… I pull back, scared again, that I might fall, that I might lose myself, or lose Him.
I wonder about doing things for the glory of God. I wonder whether I have done anything which has been in His perfect will. Then I remember why things happened the way they did. I remember our negotiations, about God, family and love. I remember indifference.
And I remind myself to remember, that greater things wait ahead.




"That men may know that thou, whose name alone is Jehovah, art the most high over all the earth." Psalms.

In my life, there has been only one person apart from my father, whose opinion I’ve taken seriously. There has been only one person who has made me feel ignorant. I’ve known many many smart men I think. He’s the only one that never ceases to catch me off-guard. He’s the only one who gets my jokes and still makes me feel inadequate. I love his company. I love that I look up to him, I love that I have no control over him, I love that he’s his own person and makes it explicitly clear.

Okay fine, it bugs me to death! Not being able to understand him, not being able to control him, not having any sort of control over myself when I’m with him. Not being able to love him.

I can’t love him though. I don’t know why. I wish I could and I wish he could. It’s just something that’s not on the table, for a multitude of reasons. I think it’s chemistry. We don’t have chemistry. I think it’s society. I think it doesn’t look good enough on paper, for either of us. I think it’s my family and his. I think it’s our pasts. My inability to accept his and his view of mine as too sheltered. I think it’s vain inhibitions. I think it’s misled feelings for other people.