A December full moon

It's a lovely night in cold December during the Christmas week, your favourite week from childhood. The cold fingers of the moon seeps through the tree branches and the night looks so perfect, so beautiful and no less can capture the lightness that you feel when you look at the night skies. 

You treasure this moment in your memory as a perfect mindful occasion when you look at something outside yourself and you forget your daily bundle of worries for an instant. You forget the world, the reality that offers you reasons not to follow your heart and to listen to your reason. Everything looks perfect this night, including you and I, enjoying the moment forgetting all worries. 

And, you go revisit this beautiful full moon night for this beauty that nature offers, perfect sights

that never fail to astonish- the turquoise blue of the ocean, the fiery skies during sunsets, the soothing cascades of waterfalls, the perfect symmetry of things that you see around. 

And, you rest under this December full moon, singing the songs of the supermoon forgetting all worries as you bask in the light of the cold full moon, celebrating togetherness and learning that love is much beyond sweet words or intimacy. This lesson lasts beyond time and you treasure the wisdom learnt from this beautiful moments for days to come. 

Female Icarus

Your soul was like a huge flame blazing and burning bright often leaping to the skies in its attempts to stand for what you really wanted and fighting for your dreams till the end. Then, your soul got weary as you experienced various ups and downs and in your struggle with life, you lost your joy of living and your soul experienced the angst of living. 

 

When you look back at the ages that have gone by, you remember that you are like Icarus at heart and like him, you burn down your many mazes in your dash for freedom.

 

There were times when this soul was too silent, too shut out and too withdrawn, incapable of finding meaning in life. Yet with time, you learnt how to read mazes and fly out of them and this dash for freedom looked so easy and so original.

 

This soul still yearns for those yesterdays, when like Icarus you had headed out of the maze you are in and learnt to conquer the difficult situations in life- with courage and not caution. And, you were like Icarus, full of ingenuity and courage though it look a while to heal your hurt wings and dash into the wild skies.

The Unsent Letters

The Unsent Letters

The Wanderers

You were a wanderer who left behind your hometown to start a new life, to prove yourself in the eyes of your near and dear ones. I was a dreamer who could listen with wonder to your ramblings and walk with you everywhere, one who could go places without leaving my favourite armchair.  

In the many years of absence from each other, you and I travelled together across many exotic lands. From these wanderings, we have gathered so much of wisdom and have arrived at a place of mutual understanding. I stand alone in crowds yet walk with you in green fields at the same time. I run in many new paths sitting at my armchair though I never leave my  world but for fresh signs or old paths. 

You are my other self, whom I do not know for I have never seen you as you really are, for I was struck blind by your light. Yet I know you were with me in each and every circle round the holy fire and will find you near me in every dream.  

You are my favourite daydream that I return to time and again just to hold your hand in an unreal realm where rules don't matter and hearts speak only the truth. In another world, in a different circle of life, you and I will win our eternal game of love.  

In the long years you have been away, I have glimpsed you in many forms but not in real but I still remember your strong belief in sticking to your dreams and nothing else. For me, who have lately started following your footsteps, the world looks new and vistas inviting.  

May be this is not a dream at all but a piece taken out of tattered lives like yours and mine, but when these words come to fruition, it is more achingly perfect than anything else heard, felt or seen. And, together we travel across the blue waters resting in an understanding that goes beyond words with a love that recompenses the eons lost and gone. 

Dreams

When we were standing together, I remembered the word vulnerable mostly. I think it describes the funny feeling that you have been through this before and you feel very sensitive about the whole experience. Though you feel like you are on cloud nine when in love, your past trauma resurfaces in the smallest slights you feel with your twinflame. 

You feel the angst of being not loved enough, the amount of attention that you received as a child looks insufficient for you to survive. One minute, you feel elated by the wonders of togetherness yet you feel driven by jealousy and unresolved emotional baggage from previous relationships. What if it happens again? You are scared to open up or even to take the risk of opening up before the person you like. 

Yet you weave dreams out of this fantasy of togetherness- to wander the world with you, go places, find beauty in nature and in simple things and live life to the fullest. What I have always wanted is to wake up early and watch the streaks of dawn across the sky and then snuggle you to wakefulness. 

The other dream has been to visit my native place near the River Green and watch the snakeboats glide in the river during Onam. Once in a while, to get soaked in its waters with your clothes on like in a lost childhood near the River. Also, to go a graveyard with my people in it to see the graves that have lost their names in renovation and forgetfulness. 

May be to find love once again in life, the beauty lost with time and the lost art of smiling many times daily like an innocent child does. May be to wear a spot of sindhoor on my forehead like a newly wed woman with pride in her acquired happiness.  

Yet in an unreal world, you are happy that though it has not started or ended, your dream has become a favourite haunt to wander in and in your days of wandering, you have managed to realign your perspective of life. 

Us

 

 

In a way, each story that we tell has the same kernel in it- our dreams, hopes and longing all lost and found again in a smile that can light up a fire inside or bring joy. You and I have become wordsmiths who try to bring all our liquid pain into the art of telling pleasing stories. 

The stories that we write are not what really happened or events that could really happen. These come from an imagination that loves to wander and see what would have happened if we were together and not apart as was willed in life.

Sometimes, it is sunshine and laughter outside; depends on the state of this mercurial soul. The reality imposes on us, at times taking away everything and at times giving blessings unasked for.

Your stories reveal the joy of finding happiness in new things, which are in fact, new ways to name the old likes and loves while I harp on change and about moving on but have stayed in the same year where I stopped learning. The year that I write in my mind is often the one I lost you in life.

The fire of a smile still burns in these kernel stories of love, longing and loss and we have become like straight lines that run along parallel throughout the many lives.

 

Daily

It has always been my dream to wander the world with you- go places, find beauty in nature and in simple things and live life to the fullest. What I have always wanted is to wake up early and watch the streaks of dawn across the sky and then snuggle you to wakefulness. 

The other dream has been to visit my native place near the River Green and watch the snakeboats glide in the river during Onam. Once in a while, to get soaked in its waters with your clothes on like in a lost childhood near the River. Also, to go a graveyard with my people in it to see the graves that have lost their names in renovation and forgetfulness. 

May be to find love once again in life, the beauty lost with time and the lost art of smiling many times daily like an innocent child does. May be to wear a spot of sindhoor on my forehead like a newly wed woman with pride in her acquired happiness.