If only...

Something is amiss. I don't know what. A vague, uneasy feeling - of things changing, of time running out. I'm restless, again. I'm scared, for the first time ever. And what anchored me to peace seems to be drifting away.

My head's been buzzing...with words, phrases, thoughts. So, so many things! It's so noisy...and so deathly silent...all at the same time.

It's the distance. My mind is trying to fill this space between us - and the only way it can do it is by thinking...thinking...and thinking some more.

So much in fact, that I don't know which idea to grasp, which dream to dream. Which thought to articulate first - if at all.

And if I can't make sense of my thoughts, if I cannot get order in the chaos inside me - then how can I expect you to understand? If I cannot express myself, then how do we communicate? And communication is what we have survived on till now.

So is this survival at stake?

I usually thrive in spaces where there is no set order - but here, in this jumbled mind space, I'm afraid of losing my way, of losing my ability to connect with you, of losing us.

I want to tell you how much I miss you. But I'm afraid you will find me too clingy.
I want to tell you I need you. But I'm afraid you will find me too demanding.
I want to let you in - again. But I'm afraid you won't like what you see.
I want to tell you I belong to you. But I'm afraid of asking you if you belong to me.

I don't know if I want to hear your answer. I don't know if I want you to know mine.

When exactly, is ignorance bliss? I don't know.

Ether

I'm beginning to prefer silences. Increasingly, conversations seem meaningless.

We are always talking. Look around you, there is an endless hum of conversation. But most of the time, no one is listening. Most of the time, we are only pretending to understand. Or care.

We talk - to fill gaps within moments. Uncomfortable, worried almost, about the silence that fills everything so immediately, automatically. Like water filtering through sand. Making it to some - heavy, muddy, unweildy.

You say those gaps are claustrophobic. I say they are like a breath of fresh air. Unpolluted by expectations. If you really let them, those gaps can set you free.

We talk to each other to avoid being questioned about our thoughts. We argue and fight - about things that will hold no meaning for us by this time next month. We offer platitudes simply to maintain cordiality. We exchange meaningless banter - so that we don't need to pay attention to the voices inside our head. The voices that make us uncomfortable with their clarity of thought. Or the lack of it.

When was the last time you were truly honest with someone. When you told someone close to you exactly what you thought, what you felt? Can you even remember? If you look back, do you see words filled with stark honesty - or do you see sentences uttered to preserve peace, to spare the other person's feelings - even if it's at the cost of your peace of mind, at the cost of what you really want.

When was the last time you really, really poured your heart out?

Without fear of being accused of insensitivity
Without fear of ridicule and rejection
Without fear of being misunderstood
Without fear of the consequences

Without fear of being viewed as too opinionated, melodramatic, belligerent, stubborn, stupid, idealistic, selfish...I could go on.

Perhaps that's why I seek you out. Our tiny bursts of conversation are so easy. And they say so much. And sometimes, our mutual ease with silence says so much more.

It's within these moments that I can tell my heart to just be. And my head, to shut up.

Hide and Seek

Hello? Anybody there? 

Who are you looking for?

There used to be this girl who used to live here once? She had many names, but one soul. Full of joy, and hope and dreams and unending, ridiculous optimism. You could recognize her from her loud, propriety-be-damned laughter that used to ring out at the silliest of reasons. And her endless chatter - about the impossible things she would do.

Oh her, I remember her. Crazy one she was. She moved on. Doesn't stay here anymore. Just as well perhaps. She never really fit in.

Moved on? Where? Why?? She had said she would always be around.

Oh I'm sure she's around, somewhere. But noone knows where. And noone really cares. She made everyone uncomfortable. And they retaliated. With falsities and mocking laughter. With indifference and aggression. They won her trust and then tore her to pieces. Excellent bit of guerilla warfare that was. And she left - not out of weakness, but sheer exhaustion I believe.

Any idea where I can find her?

She keeps to herself now. Once in a while someone gets a glimpse of her. But that's very rare. You can find her only if she wants to be found. And she has so many conditions to that. Hardly worth it.

I'll meet those conditions! I will!

Really? Think before you commit. She wants someome mad, someone who doesn't care what others say and think. Someone who is never afraid to speak her mind, or go after what she really wants - hand the consequences. She wants someone carefree - who can dance in the rain, laugh loudly, do the exact opposite of what is expected. Can you pay that high a price.

Oh I see. I'm too late then. These are the things I was hoping to borrow from her for a while. But for that I need to find her. And it seems I won't find her till I have all of this within me. And I'm not sure I know how to go about it anymore...

And who are you?

I don't really know. I was hoping she could tell me. I used to know her very well once - was wondering if she knew me well too. If she knew that she would, one day, be me. But no, I don't think she knew. Else she would have warned me. And maybe things would have been different. 

My Anti-Bucket List

Not bake the perfect chocolate cake
Not go bungee-jumping, para-gliding, ziplining across a forest
Have a career that gives me no sense of purpose or joy
Get to have our perfect kiss only once
Change who I am to suit the needs of those around me to the extent I don't recognize myself
Not make my parents proud of me
Do something that makes me lose my self-respect
Die without having done something crazy, impulsive and liberating (oh wait...think I've already done that!)
Not have a pet
Not travel the world
Not write a book
Not take up dancing again
Not have a cute, curly-haired baby girl
Not go on a trip, alone, at least once
Not have a weekend spent in bed, with him
Not get a surprise birthday party
Or the perfect, stupidly romantic date
Realize in the end that my life has been a long list of deadlines, appraisals, numbered leaves - nothing more
Get to 40/50/60 and then regret that I didn't have the courage to ask for what I had really wanted
Compromise on love - though I might be a tad late on this one...

The Tempest

Thunderstorms, sleets of rain
Drenching us, driving into our eyes
Till all we can see is each other
And that's all we need to see

Flashes of lightning
Casting crazy shapes on the wall
And we watch our silhouettes
Our entwined fingers making shadow puppets

Rumbles in the distance
Drowning out our whispers
I'm not afraid, but I pretend to be
So that I can hold you closer

The curtains flutter, matching my erratic heartbeats
The water traces patterns on the sill
As I breathe in the smell of rain-soaked earth
And it mingles with senses that are filled with you

Wipe the fog from the windowpane
See the waterlogged streets below
I complain, but secretly it makes me happy
Now you're stuck inside, with me, a little longer

I need to steal a few more moments with you
To be able to hold your hand, snuggle - and just talk
To be able to do ordinary, everyday, but for us, impossible things
Just let it rain