Thursday, April 16, 2009

The 11th Hour Confessions

On the threshold of my expected engagement and marriage to a soul which I proposed and which it disposed at the last hour, I'm crossing my fingers and holding my breath, not because of failure but of excitement. I'm simply not used to it and maybe I'm afraid of it. I guess she loves me and I've no qualms in inviting her into my life but I'm afraid.

You see, I'm no new to marriage. I've been married before to a lovely girl. Things had not worked out and we agreed for a mutual divorce. The year was 2000 and I was excited as now I’m of a life with a female gender. The hormones signaled yes, and I dumbly stood in front of the holy alter among a cascade of Christian orthodox Priests who sang in union and blessed us among smiles of more than a thousand people. What a day it was! A hopeful seemingly January sun cleared the sky, sang too in unison and the bright sparkling stars blessed us into a mysterious single body in our first night together.

Alas, I was a young fool. Ignorant and spoiled. Egoistic and selfish. My ex-wife was as also stubborn as never expected. I guess I hoped a submissive wife like my Sisters and Mother, which no young woman is and I failed to envision her thoughts. Thoughts which was about individuality and freedom. I failed miserably. I became the villain; I became the baddie in love; I became the villoma in our life; I became the epithelial tumor which could only be separated by the curse solution in society called divorce.

After she left me, I became half crazy, gave up my lucrative job, broke off all the glasses in the kitchen, migrated back to India and vowed never to love and trust again a female psyche. Of course I was not successful!

I've given my heart to so many girls but unlike playboys I've not lost count. My first ever love happened when I was doing my plus two (pre-degree at that time.) I watched with cupid dancing around my eyes a beautiful dark belle who used to travel in my bus everyday. The persistent cowboy in me saw giving a love letter (the only one I’ve given, yeah, those days it worked…) to her, forcibly inserted into her assemblage of college books and paraphernalia. Oh, yes, she had the twinkle in her eyes the next day and returned a letter back to me. I cannot express my feeling in this blog of what I felt; a mixture of exhilaration and an insurrection toward the daily monotony of college life. My next love life was when I was in Karnataka - Goa, met this tall beauty conscious lass whose friendship turned passionate and an obsession in the Osho fever which was fervent in our life at that time. The next crush was towards a Gulf Air air-hostess in Bahrain who fell for my romantic thoughts. A lot of seasons together we moved away. We simply moved away! The next break was my ex-wife, a pure arranged marriage which went wrong. She I fathom found a dearer human being with time. A lot of dark moments afterwards in Kochi, I fell in for an Aquarian who almost matched my madness. She was separated and the love guru who I had become by that time lectured her in reconciling with her estranged hubby. No woman likes that and I became as distant as the burning Sun and though she was not successful in rejoining up, she found a new macho heart. Then it was a series of relations through friends and families. A US based scientist who believed that I broke her heart and who wanted a life not in India, a young "blue eyed" girl so much younger to me, one or two divorcees who shared a dream with me but nothing worked out. Guess I'm the culprit, a dark faced monster who liked the dark part of all taking on the stupid phone and resisted the sunshine.

Roads sometimes lead to blocked roads but like pathways which guide us to find roads, I walk groping in the dark fumbling in the moonlight in relish of a dawn cherished by a hope known only in love. My proposed missy is divorced once because her ex-hubby had doubts about her morality and character. He believed that her friends and even her brother were all imaginary lovers falco subbuteo with secretive liaisons. I'm lucky in this, I believe in friends; I believe not in a husband and wife passing their time only in looking into each other eyes and being happy. Oh, come on, everyone needs love of their friends and other distractions. Marriage and love are just conditions for a legal societal based living together, sex and making legitimate generations, right?

Many of you hardly know anything about me and I've purposely not done any "know-me" (sorry - Vijesh, IHM) tags because I was afraid of rejection and revealing so much about me; I was afraid of the villain image; I was afraid of projecting my melancholy (Indyeah - You guessed right) ; I was afraid of jutting out my own fears and reality.

I've grown up over the years and have matured aged and ripened my thought processes, my patience and my egoistic thoughts. I now don't believe in infatuations but love in patience and empathy; I now believe in human thoughts espoused with the belief in living and dying with hands enjoined. Please bless me as I donate her my used heart!

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

The Love Touch - Relations of the heart

One of my relative died this week. He was just 60 and was just beginning to enjoy love and what his little love life had to offer. Love of his children, who had matured to understand it. Love of his wife who has and had (but, and) no other option to love him with time. Love of his grand children. Love which he cherished and urged on, all his life. Love at his truest spirit.

What I believe is that love starts in the old age. In the old age, when the children grow up and are gone. In the old age, when the poor soul looks into each other and has only the complaints about other and an "only life" experience to share. A dependence only to Gods and the faith associated with it. A dependence in only each other, a clinging so intimate. Love starts then and there!

I thought I'll live for ever. I thought that I'm immune to diseases. I remember looking at people who exercised in the morning and evening for a better health and I’ve noticed people straining for a better life and I just smile. I smiled at their stupidity. I also laughed when they say they have high sugar in their blood stream and have cholesterol. I never thought that it is what it is to become a "human." and I'll finally experience it and live as one. I failed to fathom that we are all ordinary mortals under the mercy of nature. We can in a minute become sick or fall under the rubble with the shift of belts in an earthquake. The struggle of desperation and weakness in a human being is so noticeable in our daily existence that we are simply just such weaklings, but we imagine ourselves as super human beings capable of living for ever.

When I was small, I always was the Amithabh Bachchan, Dharmendra or the Vinod Khanna. When I used to be small and see the films, plume was high and after each film I used to enact the complete scenes in front to my Sister and my Parents and felt special among the giggles of the crowd. I always wanted to be the hero. The invincible that could bash up, sing and woo the girls I always wanted. Though the girls and villains are never the actual character and the mentality what I currently expect and my life has changed, I just wanted to be above all.

What are we? Are we are not just ourselves trying to prove ourselves in this world and trying to gain acceptance?

Is the girl who I'm trying to woo and marry not just an individual, an another soul who is trying to prove herself and trying for acceptance in this funny world? Is not life what I and what she has imagined the same? A life with someone who can respect each other and negotiate freedoms? A tension free life which is free of tautness and a beautiful froth of happiness along the way?

Money as we believe is the now the source of the all the happiness in this world. Money to buy a TV, so that we can pass the time, Money to buy exotic holidays, money to give cinematic gifts, money to buy time and money to buy even romantic dreams!

Where are we all heading? To the grave, right? Is time that we spend together so important when we amalgamate with soil? Is the soil concerned when blending two souls about its differences?

My dear Brother- Clinton (yes, his name is Clinton and he was named when the ex-president Bill Clinton assumed office), yesterday sent a beautiful SMS, which goes something like this, "It's just meaningless in expecting anyone to be your kind because you can't hold their right hand in your right hand to walk together." My respect really grew towards him even though it was just a SMS forward. Are we not just fools trying to be superior to others and trying to prove ourselves?Love and keep loving my dears. There is nothing else so important in this world. Hate and egoism is just temporary. Let us not lose our precious time in bickering and fights which proves nothing.

Love each other without expecting anything in return. Give the freedom to each other which even you don't cherish for yourselves. Love each other to prove nothing. That's life at its best! God Bless!!

Friday, April 10, 2009

The Nest

This is my first attempt to type in a poem in my blog. Though I "used" to write before, some of the feelings had "died" and I never could write again. Some of them have been "born" again that I dare to attempt again. Do give me a frank opinion if you comment!

Under the dawn eaves overlooking the moon;
The nest is still and sad,
As though it sorrows and grieves,
For many an empty lass and lad's soul.

From his quiet realm on hights,
The face in the Moon was jaded, it seemed,
Of dwelling so long in the land of dreams,
Enjoying the solitude of sleepless nights.

My Spirit gazed upon his face,
Ever so resilient, ever so proud;
And the twin sisters, hope and fear,
Told a tale of fairness and distant spheres.

Of faith shall love be born afresh;
Of faith that I shall be loved and a lover too;
Of faith after this poor soul has died;
Of faith in felicitous joy for a thousand nights.

From pain, from sorrows, from cold,
I hope of wrap within her warm arms;
Of no more a lonely night; awake,
With tingling whispers in her ears well into dawn.

What is fear, unknown, manipulated, but a curious mind?
Of battles lost or won;
Let it crawl or let it fly;
But just be here within my reach to stay!

Come along forever, come along now.
You for me, I for you. I promise you that;
Just pull me towards you, blame the wind push,
But just love me for sweet mercifulness sake.

Just keep holding me or pretend to,
As I fear my belittled nest is cold,
And now that I’ve lost my age of flying,
I fear there is nowhere left to fly to!

P.S - I'm yet to reply to the comments in my previous post and I'm yet to read and visit you guys to comment on your blog. Do forgive! My mind and time were not in tempo. Thanks!

Saturday, April 4, 2009

The Walk-In - Blinded By Hope

Thoughts paraded my mind as the time blew over carrying me around in my mentations. I looked idly at the cobwebs gathering fast in the upper corner of my room. I had been seeing that lock of spurious mesh for some months now. It was always lucky to escape the short broom. It had always been a challenge for me. A challenge because of my laziness. All that was required was a chair from the adjoining room and unfurling the scene of murder before my eyes. A spider seated amidst the entanglement of its hard work, rocked slowly matching the tempo of the circling fan. It seemed to eye me with tart vengeance as if I was the foreigner not it but we lived alone happily together in a room without invading each others space.

Loneliness has not been a stranger. What’s disturbing about loneliness is the redundant voice in you, pestering you that you must be mated to someone and that loneliness is a frightening mistake in the old age. As I believe that I age and that I age. The voice in you is not bothered about who you find. It just keeps tormenting you. I've often told people including my parents and friends around me of my intent to be left alone for a time. They agnized this and saw this announcement as trying to be devoid of their company. I often felt repentant, that I cherished such an unusual thing as solitude. To my friends and family, the declaration to be alone sounds as a sign of rejection and a sign of madness. I've noticed that many have never felt the need to be left alone; they rather enjoy a crowd, probably having always lived happily in relationships. They look upon me and my need for solitude as eccentricity and lunacy.

Finally one day, interior and exterior become one, and you are like a dumb person who has had a dream to finally commit. One day there comes an instant when a conclusion must be made. A lady climbes the ladder and comes into your life and you gloam into the tradition of must-fall-in-love. Love falls into a surrogate thought which befalls beliefs. Beliefs which cherishes norms. Norms which compliment hopes. Finally two people who want to love each other must question themselves how much they hope for as their love expands and intensifies, and how much risk they are inclined to take. It is in truth a fearsome gamble. To think of it, the way of the nature of love is to create. A matrimony itself is something which has to be created.

To get married is the biggest risk in earthly relations that a human can take. If we commit ourselves to one person for life, is there as ordinary mortals think a limitation of freedom? Will man be able to accommodate the change in his accustomed rhythm in life? Will he be selfish to the demands to give it all to love which is temporary? Is not love merely participation and not possession for life and in actuality invading each others space? Will he be able to express the gender equality what men internally cherish and comprehend in their daily interations? Will man never be called a "hen pecked" if he compromises and gives his soul to knead his actions?

I glanced again at the spider for some comment; it kept rocking to the breeze of the weary ceiling fan as if in agreement. And yet again, I invited the guest to walk the steps into my soul as the time passes by in my existence in this selfish world.