It begins with a glimpse, or a passing thought.
and ends in an obsession.
Paulo Cohelo
It starts with the touch of a feather,dreams and rosy eyes.
and ends with a shattering blow, tears and bloddy eyes.
yours truely
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Touch of life..
The moment, depending one ones state of mind, could have been labeled gloomy or surreal.
Was I too tired to even speak or was I too relaxed in her company to want to break the sweet embrace of silence by speaking. With her around, I was breathing, and choking too thinking how long I have been away. Less then 18 hours, my mind told me.
We have been together for years now, and shared closeness to the level that transcends a lot of barriers, yet I haven’t felt the warmth of her embrace, stronger and more comforting then I did at that very moment, 3 ft away from her. I wasn’t even looking towards her, I did not need to. But I knew she was there trying to bring me back and that was all I needed to know. I shifted a little at my place, and looked at her hands.
Looking at them I felt that I could take on the world and come out victorious, just to hold those hands again.
I started to relive the sensation of her touch, whether it was her warm embrace, they way she cuddled up to me, or just the way she ruffled my hair. Her hand was now resting on my arm with her fingers touching the inside of my wrist.
"When are they going to let you go back home with us?", she asked. But I was so captured in the stillness and dreaminess of the moment that even though I heard her clearly and I wanted to reply, my voice failed me.
I leaned against my back, and threw back my head. She held my hand in both her's, and didn’t say any thing. Her eyes were still glued to her book. My eyes open, but looking through everything, even her.
I felt so sorted out and neat at that time. I tightened my grip on her hand, removing her fingers from my wrist since it had started to burn under the bandages.
I was cross that soon the drug would kick in and put me to sleep, Would she still be around when i wake up.
if only didnt have such doubts , i would not have been here in the first place.
Was I too tired to even speak or was I too relaxed in her company to want to break the sweet embrace of silence by speaking. With her around, I was breathing, and choking too thinking how long I have been away. Less then 18 hours, my mind told me.
We have been together for years now, and shared closeness to the level that transcends a lot of barriers, yet I haven’t felt the warmth of her embrace, stronger and more comforting then I did at that very moment, 3 ft away from her. I wasn’t even looking towards her, I did not need to. But I knew she was there trying to bring me back and that was all I needed to know. I shifted a little at my place, and looked at her hands.
Looking at them I felt that I could take on the world and come out victorious, just to hold those hands again.
I started to relive the sensation of her touch, whether it was her warm embrace, they way she cuddled up to me, or just the way she ruffled my hair. Her hand was now resting on my arm with her fingers touching the inside of my wrist.
"When are they going to let you go back home with us?", she asked. But I was so captured in the stillness and dreaminess of the moment that even though I heard her clearly and I wanted to reply, my voice failed me.
I leaned against my back, and threw back my head. She held my hand in both her's, and didn’t say any thing. Her eyes were still glued to her book. My eyes open, but looking through everything, even her.
I felt so sorted out and neat at that time. I tightened my grip on her hand, removing her fingers from my wrist since it had started to burn under the bandages.
I was cross that soon the drug would kick in and put me to sleep, Would she still be around when i wake up.
if only didnt have such doubts , i would not have been here in the first place.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Lonely at 24
Where are all my friends..the big gang, that i used to hang around with during my college days.the bunch of guys who would come to college early morning and would be the last to leave, sometimes without even attending a single class. The group that was known to do there own things, there own way.There was one of each kinds, the smart alec, the brash goon , the druggii, jester, dude, stylo, every one.And back then it seemed like nothing out of the ordinary, it was a way of life.
Where are they...??
I can go on crying that i dont miss them , but that will not change a thing.
Not too long ago,We all started from the same point, and now while all others have managed to share a common origin, i have drifted too far.
There is no rhyme or reason for my loosing the shared ground.
Its like if you come back home after having spent too long a time too far away , nothing seems quite the same.
There was a time that being together made each moment so interesting that we used to discuss our each day in detail , twice over at times. Now i see those moments in peoples albums, or read about them on mails that were'nt specifically addressed to me, but happened to reach me since i continue to be a part of the mailing list.And thats pretty much i have become , a name in the mailing list, some guy in the old college time photos.
Have i really drifted too far.I guess i have, or maybe not.
I see most of my friends every day,and with a lot of effort am able to exchange a few words with them. I am glad its nothing more then that, as the effort would be quite noticable.My "friends" now comprise of people i am working with at any given instance.
I am soon going to turn 24, and the only people i expect to ( and want to ) wish me on my birthday the ones i have interacted with in the reacent past.Some times, and only a very few instances, when some thing good has happpned, and you want to share the euphoria some one by calling him or her, all that i am able to do is scroll through my long contact List a few times, and then drop my phone.I dont stink or curse or dress shabby.I know i have a lotta well wishers around me and a lot of people who apprecitate the things i do and the things i am. But still there is this void.And i am the last person who can try and fill it.
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