~~ Often ~~

Often,
in our life,
we want more than what people can give,
until we almost lose our focus,
and easily keep on blaming...

Too often,
we haven’t realized yet
we like to think that we are right
until we almost forgot
to hear and learn from others...

Perhaps,
not until we stumble down badly
before our ego is too high to be reached
before our mind is too stubborn to be preached
before our hatred for anything is too deep to be dug
we reflect on our acts...

In the end of the way,
shall we hope that we manage
to accomplish what we have to
to forgive and say sorry to anyone we should
and be grateful of what we have...

~~ Face Off ~~

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”
When I last astral travelled during the New Moon, I had the honor of finally meeting Unique for the first time.
I woke up in the usual clearing in the woods. It was night and the sky was being strangled by clouds. Rain drops were streaking the sky and flattening my light, purple dress against my skin. I was bare feet and shivering. In the shadows of the trees, a wolf was staring at me, its gaze glowing like embers in the obscure black of night and its outline scarcely discernible. I was frightened, but the wolf did not stir. Eventually, attempting to ignore its eyes which seemed to drift like two fireflies between the shadows, I tentatively began to move my feet over the soggy grass and the slick, jagged pebbles. Not so far away I stumbled on slippery stone steps that led underground and I knew I had to descend. The tunnel was filled with murky, ice cold water. Nevertheless I took a deep breath, paid no heed to the icy tongues that slyly licked my feet and descended the steps until the cold enveloped me in a petrifying embrace. I waited. After a while I felt the strong grip of sturdy arms around my motionless body. Someone pulled me out and dragged me unto the flat stone which appeared to be the floor of a dimly lit cave. An enormous cauldron hurled its shadow over my dripping hair which clung to my face like seaweed to the rocks. Unique smiled. Her face changed continually from that of a hag, to different animals, to a middle aged woman with extremely thick, frizzy white hair bound together in a bushy tail. I scrambled to my feet and accepted a furry cloak to warm my trembling body. In order to speak with her I had to give her a gift, so I gave her the turquentine necklace I was wearing. She then beckoned me and instructed me to stare into her cauldron. Faintly skeptical and unsure of what I would see, I obeyed. The water in the cauldron turned into a whirlpool and sucked me in. When the world stopped spinning I stood in the middle of the woods: it was day and a person I had wanted to see stood beside me.
All in all, what surprised me the most is that Unique did not come across as a daunting, intimidating character. She rather came across as an older friend in possession of wisdom that has been gained through the years and with a mocking sense of humor. Unique to me always appears more like a mother figure, at times she is the tender, considerate one and sometimes she is more aloof. It is interesting to see how every face of her has an own personality and how this colors your dealings with them...

~~ Pronouncement ~~

How do I say goodbye to what we had?
The good times that made us laugh
Outweigh the bad.
I thought we'd get to see forever
But forever's gone away
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

I don't know where this road
Is going to lead
All I know is where we've been
And what we've been through.
If we get to see tomorrow
I hope it's worth the entire wait
And I'll take with me the memories
To be my sunshine after the rain
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

Some things I have to get off my chest
Saying that I love you so,
I swear it'll only take a minute
You'll understand when I finish
And I don't want to see you cry,
Somehow I feel you never will.
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

How could you even think that I would lie to you?
How do you let me go?
When you just don't know?
What's on the other side of the door
But I got to make the first move
'Cause if I don't, you’ll start hating me
But we know that we got to go
Our separate ways
And it's killing me
And a thousand times I find myself asking, "Why? Why?"
Cause there's never a right time
Right time to say goodbye
Ohh..... It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

~~ Eternal valentine...would you be ~~

Red roses were her favorites, her name was also Rosetta.
And every year her husband sent them, tied with pretty bows.
The year he died the roses were delivered to her door.
The card said, “Be my Valentine,” like all the years before.

Each year he sent her roses, and the note would always say,
“I love you even more this year, than last year on this day.”
“My love for you will always grow, with every passing year.”
She knew this was the last time that the roses would appear.

She thought, he ordered roses in advance before this day.
Her loving husband did not know that he would pass away.
He always liked to do things early, way before the time.
Then, if he got too busy, everything would work out fine.

She trimmed the stems and placed them in a very special vase.
Then, sat the vase beside the portrait of his smiling face.
She would sit for hours, in her husband’s favorite chair.
While staring at his picture and the roses sitting there.

A year went by and it was hard to live without her mate.
With the loneliness and solitude that had become her fate.
Then, the very hour, as on Valentines before,
the doorbell rang and there were roses sitting by her door.

She brought the roses in and then just looked at them in shock.
Then went to get the telephone to call the florist shop.
The owner answered and she asked him if he would explain,
why would someone do this to her causing her such pain?

“I know your husband passed away more than a year ago,” the owner said,
“I knew you’d call and you would want to know.”
“The flowers you received today were paid for in advance.”
“Your husband always planned ahead he left nothing to chance.”

“There is a standing order that I have on file down here,
and he has paid well in advance. You’ll get them every year.
There also is another thing that I think you should know,
he wrote a special little card…he did this years ago.”

“Then should ever I find out that he’s no longer here,
that the card…that should be sent to you the following year.”
She thanked him and hung up the phone her tears now flowing hard.
Her fingers shaking as she slowly reached to get the card.

Inside the card she saw that he had written her a note.
Then as she stared in total silence this is what he wrote…
“Hello my love, I know it’s been a year since I’ve been gone.
I hope it hasn’t been too hard for you to overcome.”

“I know it must be lonely and the pain is very real.
For if it was the other way I know how I would feel.
The love we shared made everything so beautiful in life.
I loved you more than words can say. You were the perfect wife.”

“You were my friend and love; you fulfilled my every need.
I know it’s only been a year but please try not to grieve.
I want you to be happy even when you shed your tears.
That is why the roses will be sent to you for years.”

“When you get these roses think of all the happiness
that we had together and how both of us were blessed.
I have always loved you and I know I always will.
But, my love, you must go on, you have some living still.”

“Please…try to find happiness, while living out your days.
I know it is not easy but I hope you find some ways.
The roses will come every year and they will only stop,
when your door’s not answered when the florist stops to knock.”

“He will come five times that day in case you have gone out.
But after his last visit he will know without a doubt,
to take the roses to the place where I’ve instructed him,
and place the roses where we are, together once again.”

~~ Whirlpool ~~

My heart feels like a part has been ripped out. I am sad, angry at my physician, and depressed. My therapist told me to just let myself be whatever that may be in that moment instead of “shutting down” my feelings which just makes it worse. I have a difficult time doing this.

Ok, so how to shut off your mind?

What I do when I want to consciously stop my mind from interfering with my soul, is I lie down on my bed (or sofa), put in ear plugs and just listen to my own breath and concentrate on it. I feel each breath enter my body, go down my lungs (making my belly rise) and go up through my throat again (making my belly deflate again) and out again through my mouth/nose.
Any thoughts that rush in are just observed as being thoughts, and rather than actively pushing them away, I simply focus on my breathing again. This takes some practice. ..Ok, it takes a LOT of practice. You may not always be consciously aware that you are “thinking”, but sooner or later you will remember that you were trying not to think. So then just focus on your breathing again.

After a while this will become second nature, and you’ll experience less difficulty in doing this.
So when your mind has given up its attempts to take over your consciousness, you may begin to see images, feel certain feelings/sensations, hear certain things. Do not analyze them, simply observe them and leave them be. At a certain point in this exercise you’ll no longer have the urge to analyze what you’re experiencing. Your mind will no longer wonder what the heck is going on. You are now in paradise, free from the burden of every-day mind-activity. Your soul rejoices. You are now living in the NOW, being all there is.

Is it bad to feel ... uncertain of how you feel? I pride myself on being fairly self-aware. I try very hard to cultivate a mind-body awareness and to teach it to my students. But lately, tell me do I ever feel out of touch. I don't even have the impetus to even try to meditate. I know it will probably help and I'll feel better for having tried but I feel weighted down. I sincerely hope that it's not depression rearing its ugly head again. I think I'll make an appointment to have my meds evaluated. But somehow I feel it may be different. I am confused with my own emotions. Do I love my job or do I dread it? Which “Unique man” does my heart tell me to go after? I have no clue and I think that makes it worse. It makes me sad. Maybe one day... hopefully someday soon I'll figure out what my heart wants. Because damn it…. I would really like to know.

~~ I am not deceased yet ~~

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle morning rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

"I did not die, and I was not alive
Think for yourself, if you have any wit
What I have become, deprived of both life and death?"

~~ Nine o’clocks ~~

How do you define the beauty of the nine o’clocks alias California Pinks? In Filipino or Tagalong language, they are called as “alas dyes” or when translated to English literally is “ten o’clock”. Yes, the same small pretty flowers with varied colors…..pink, yellow, magenta, purple…….

As the sun traverses from the horizon on the east towards the zenith above, these petty buds wake up lazily shrugging off the dew drops on them, and like the Montessori kids get ready before its 9am. Yes…..they are at the full bloom at 9am and stay gorgeous just for a few hours…….the sun rides ferociously down towards its abode again…..the 9 o’clocks count their last minutes of their petite and small lives…they droop and wither…they don’t even get to have a flash back of their lives…..In their very short life, they don’t get to see anything…not even the fact that they would probably have endorsed a few smiles on some droopy faces……what do they get of their lives finally? Nothing……absolutely nothing…….yet every morning the nine o’clocks bloom sharp at 9, no matter what climate it is……and die unceremoniously everyday…..

~~ Reverie ~~

When you're in love you never really know whether your elation comes from the qualities of the one you love, or if it attributes them to her; whether the light which surrounds her like a halo comes from you, from her, or from the meeting of your sparks.

The hours I spend with you I look upon as sort of a perfumed garden, a dim twilight, and a fountain singing to it. You and you alone make me feel that I am alive. Others said that they have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough.

I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint and die. I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such Utopia.... When you are old, I want you to recall all those trillions of moments we spent together laughing care freely like no worries exist, ecstasy at its hilt. I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them.

I can no longer think of anything but you. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me.

In melody divine, my heart beats to rapturous love

and I long to call you mine.

It’s you I’ll embrace.
And if it takes more than a lifetime to make this dream come true

Heaven can wait until I’ve finished loving you.

~~Unperceived anonymity ~~

I can't shake this feeling,
the dread won't go away.
A voice inside my head keeps shrieking,
“Nothing will be okay”.

Why is it so hard,
to find someone to care?
Who will stand by my side,
Who will always be there?

I wanted to be his one and only,
but now I'm all alone.
I stare blankly at the wall,
waiting by the phone.

My faith disappears,
as my prayers remain unanswered.
His face haunts my vision,
my screams remain unheard.

Starting to hate the world,
as I expect everyone to leave.
Why can't they understand,
I'm standing right there yet I am invisible to all?

I try to reach out,
but I fall to my knees.
Whispering softly,
why won't you seize me?

I close my blinded eyes,
forsaken to this doom.
Ripping apart my chest,
I can't breathe; I choke as if there's no room.

It's a sense of unperceived anonymity...

I scream but no one hears.
I'm isolated yet this silence screams back at me.
I try to escape but I can't run from my own self.
I'm trapped inside my violent turbulence.

~~ Helplessness~~

Whenever he needs help,
I’m always the first one there.
But no matter how hard I try,
He says,” I don’t need you, I don’t care”.

This pain I feel,
is corroding deep inside of me.
I wish he'd try to care,
I wish that he could see.

It hurts so much to know,
me being for him is considered useless.
It wounds me more.
I wish I could stop the hurt,
so he wouldn’t be so enraged and sore.

If I could,
I’d take his hand and hold him tight.
I'd stay with him, all day and night.
And kiss away all his pains.

I've given him the best of me;
He refuses to take any,
Though I know he needs me as much,
But repudiate to admit so.
I can give him all I have…and more….
but no matter how many tears I cry,
nothing will ever be like before...

~~ Truth and Dare ~~

I never really knew you
You were just another friend
But when I got to know you,
I let my heart unbend.

I couldn't help past memories
that would only make me cry
I had to forget my feminist self
and give love another try.

So I've fallen in love with you
and I'll never let you go….I never want to
I love you more than anyone
I just had to let you know.

And if you ever wonder why
I don't know what I'll say
But I'll never stop loving you
each and every day...

My feelings for you will never change
Just know my feelings are true
Just remember one thing
I Love You…!
Today, tomorrow and always….

~~ What do you do...? ~~

When everything else fails,
what do you do?
Or when relationships never last?
And everyone gives up on you?

When everyone hates you,
what can you say?
Or when you cry every night,
hoping not to wake up the next day?

When hiding the pain,
means cutting your wrist?
Or when fighting the urge,
means pounding your fists?

When no one's there,
whenever you fall and everyone points at you?
Or when you are all alone,
And you lose it all?

What do you do,
when your faith fades away?
And what do you do when,
You know nothing will ever be okay….?

~~ Like a wilting rose ~~

She's a broken image
In a shattered mirror.
She's a figment of a happy lie,
Just waiting for her life to be comprehensible.

She's a lost smile
Among broken dreams.
In a nightmare called life,
With nothing but venomous screams.

She's a disappointment,
To all of those who know her.
She tries to bring pride,
But as to how she's unsure.

She's a portrayal of a sin,
Too much to bare.
A solution to an evil,
Without a care.

She's a withering rose,
With bloody black thorns.
Waiting for an absolution,
That will never come.

So why does she live,
When so eager to die?
Why should she care?
Why should she even try?

~~ What Happened...? ~~

What happened to you ,
Always being by my side, still not there?
What happened to the feelings,
you said you felt inside?

What happened to the smiles,
you wiping away my tears?
What happened to the happiness,
that made me forget my fears?

What happened to the love,
that was holding us together?
What happened to the meaning,
when you promised me forever....?

~~ Without him... ~~

There she sits, more than dead,
With a shattered heart.
Smiles have faded,
She's falling apart.

The tears I see,
As they fall from her face.
I want to hold her,
To help her find her place.

If only she could see,
She was more than enough.
Than maybe this break-up,
Wouldn't be so tough.

But sitting in silence,
I see all her pain.
She's screaming inside,
As she whispers his name.

I see all the marks,
The marks of insanity.
As her words grow louder,
Words of profanity.

She whispers "why me?" and then bursts into unstoppable howls
As she tries to fake a smile.
But her pain increases more, as she screams in agony.
Her hearts shattered in a pile.

She's wasting away,
And she doesn't even care.
For what's a life without him,
If he's not even there…

~~ My only wish ~~

Tonight as I lay bed
thoughts of you pop into my head
And I wish I had one wish
that it would not be you I miss.

But still I lay here in a daze
thinking of you in so many ways
thinking of our last day together
wishing that it could've been better

wishing I could've shown you how I feel
show you that what we had was real
for that one moment I would cherish forever
I wish that now we were together

I wish that it was you beside me
but still its you that sets me free
without you I feel short of place
everywhere I look I see your face

I miss you so much, I want you here
please understand I need you dear
don't leave me here all alone
please pick me up and take me home
For I love you….

But still I lay here in a daze
thinking of you in so many ways
thinking of our last day together
wishing that I could've made it better
Wishing that I could've shown you how I feel
show you that ….. all we had was real….

~~ Tell me, I pray..... ~~

I don't know what to do,
I'm hearing myself scream!
Please let me wake up,
Let this all be a dream!

The blood is running down,
Still I feel no pain.
The tears will not stop,
They're driving me insane!

I want you by my side,
But I'm feeling so alone.
What happened to us,
I've lost my only home!

I'm writing you a note,
A note with a twist.
I'm carving out each letter,
With a razor to my wrists!

My smile fades away,
I'm falling to the ground.
What happened to forever?
I'm dying with no sound!

Please tell me it's all fake,
That I'm still in your heart.
Tell me no matter what,
We'll never be apart...!

~~ Gratitude ~~

For so long I've been lonely
Drowning in my tears,
No one there to listen
Or help me face my deepest fears.
No one there to shelter me
From this world so full of pain,
No one showed me rainbows
Every time I saw the rain.

No one there to give a damn
About my broken heart,
No one to pick up the pieces
Every time I fell apart.
But, finally someone came along
And took the time to know,
All the hurt and pain
That I tried hard not to show.

He took the time to realize
How much I've had to pay,
For every time I gave of me
There was something taken away.
He took the time to look inside
This heart as cold as stone,
He found that there was something there
No one else has ever known.

He found what I'd been hiding there
Brought it out to show the world,
That there was so much love inside
Of such a lonely girl.
He knew what I was feeling
So he set my mind at ease,
Then he did the impossible -
He gave my soul to me.

So, now I'm going to take this time
To say "Thanks" for all he's done,
And hope he knows I love him more
Than my life or anyone...

~~ Gimme some more ~~

Give me a kiss, and to that kisses a score;
Then to that twenty, add a hundred more;
A thousand to that hundred; so kiss me on,
To make that thousand up a million;
Treble that million, and when that is done,
Let's kiss afresh, just as when we first begun...

~~ Serendipity ~~

In a very serendipitous manner...
Unending dreams have trespassed
Solitary walls of peach and white.
In wreaths of maple leaves,
Those cling together in November fall.
And with them have breezed in,
Territories of thoughts, hither and thither,
Unruly and wild: abounding you...

Pawns, haven't we have been?
You and I…?
In the royal game, the invincible
Configurations on our foreheads love to play.
Utopian, our phantasms of a morrow.
And midst all that, are remnants of our
Todays-french toasts-late night coffee-pasta-kisses-light houses-carnal white nights.

Is this your repertoire, your Broadway?
Your ten minutes of fame?
Than stab me sweet, serendipitous love,
And here I shall die.
Let’s whisper hide in grayish obscurity,
In sepia dusks, old bicycle rides aside,
Those lanes, let’s ride, you and I….
For one last time…

Selling sorrowful things gone astray,
Feeling down for times turned out,
I can’t change anything gone past,
While I am sure that this sadness
Beguiled a heartfelt lead astray.
During times, this went trouncing
Now seen wealth of emotions exposed.
That can’t be reconciled with change.
Neither soul’s presence stops hiding.
Aired into the wind, they then cast out.
From the depths of sadness now brought out
Visions left gone astray from fear of change
Emerge from hiding in visions from the past.
All I wish to strive for now is…

“Building love that can forever last…”

~~ The Other Woman ~~

Being in love is an amazing feeling. It is everyone's secret fantasy to have that special somebody in life. Everyone survives on love. Almost all lives centre on this theme.

People fall in love for a number of reasons and many relations break down because they are all the wrong reasons for being in love. Some people get into relationships because they feel empty or worthless when they are single. Some people get hooked because their friends are in relationships and they feel left out in the game of love. Some might be repeatedly questioned by family as to when they are settling down. So there is pressure, either direct or indirect, on both men and women to fall in love.

Nowadays, it's very easy to fall in and out of love. Often people mistake lust for love. When the lusting is over and done with, people realize that they were never in love. It is not uncommon to hear couples say that they share a great chemistry and that's the reason why they got together. But relations started on the basis of chemistry and not commitment; rarely stand the test of time. A lot of people believe that it's natural to fall out of love. Although it is common, it is not natural.

However, there are relations that start off on the right note, with the right intentions that run into rough weather. People often make the mistake of promising the stars to their better half and later back off from fulfilling that promise or completely deny making such promises. This is one of the reasons why people fall out of love as their expectations have not been met. It also leads to hurt, anger and resentment as your loved one may feel cheated. Another common complaint among couples is that their partners have changed over the course of the relationships. The truth can be that they haven't changed. It's just that people tend to take each other for granted.

No matter what the reason, all issues can be resolved if a couple is willing to commit to each other and work towards building and strengthening their bonds. Men and women should not think their partners are mind readers. You have to talk to each other. Relationships flourish only where there is trust, understanding, acceptance, and forgiveness. It is important to be truthful to yourself to be truthful to your partner.
Breaking up is never easy. And it's even tougher for exes to be friends. But, if you have the signal clear that you like being friends with the person, then it's best to stick to the decision, take a step back and get into the "just friends zone", without ruining it all.

Love heals every scar.
But what heals a scar given by love?

The man is more often than not forgiven an extra-marital affair, and the wife assumes martyr status. Where does that leave the Other Woman...Is she not human?

To the Other Woman of long standing, to borrow a line from Germaine Greer, “watching society's efforts to deny her existence is amusing.” Angelina Jolie trots around the world collecting children in a do-gooding publicity blitz to wipe the memory of her home-breaking affair. Senator John Edwards smiles and is forgiven by a cancer-stricken wife who turns martyr for his campaign. The mistress becomes a “mistake”. And Carla Bruni almost makes it as a poster girl, until the too-socially-perfect a marriage to forgo happened.

The Delhi High Court considers the mistress equal to the wife in matters of domestic violence, but society still has its nose in the air. Shobhaa De, Pooja Bedi, Smriti Irani all distance themselves from even commenting. Other Women take the rap in Suchitra Krishnamoorthi's rants on infidelity; in Rani Mukerji's professional isolation and self-imposed silence. Men dally freely and women take the blame. Hasn't it always been that way?
When Shakespeare died, he left his wife Ann Hathaway only his 'second best bed' in his will. And who knows where the original went! But why go so far? The Other Woman remains embedded in Indian culture; in the harems of the Mughals, the erudite Bengali babu's sonagachi of the 1800s and in the Tamil Brahmin's chinna veedu. Mistresses were beautiful, talented, seductive magnets of men, and inescapably sidelined until they entered mainstream marriage.

At least those who were lucky did. Indian filmdom has pointed its finger at everyone from Waheeda Rehman to Madhubala, Rekha's Silsila, Sridevi's wait for respectability, and Hema Malini's refusal to even pose for photographs with Dharmendra.

What motivates an affair? Who wants to listen to the Other woman?

They don't crave the stability their male-friend’s marriage has. If does not even think of giving it to her, he runs away. He needs a no-strings-attached relationship. My friends say I am in denial. I think they're denying they can be happy this way. As Maureen Dowd phrases it, "Men are necessary not because we need them, but because we want them. It's nice. Like an ice-cream or something."

The man on his part treats his Other Woman as he would never treat his wife — international holidays, a penthouse, diamonds, flowers, and tenderly calling her the love of his life. The stuff of fantasies. But the truth is, he loves to have the control of two lives without extra commitment.

Is forgiveness a virtue? The new-age man has to apologize or be damned. So he did. He becomes a martyr to his hormones. He gets away with it by saying he did it so what? And leaves the Other woman to take all the blame and shame.

Men in affairs are the wimps. Very few men in affairs have the spine to give the Other Woman the option of moving on. Most pretend its leading somewhere. He's not going to jeopardize respectability for a potential soulmate. Women fall into the trap when the man phrases the miserable three words — I need you.

But why presume that men are seduced beyond their will? Is it not the married men who are angling for an affair? It takes a special kind of woman to sustain an affair and still be on the social circuit. To accept being sidelined, people's glances... It's not for the faint of heart. It's not like the man is being kidnapped, drugged or stolen away. A lot of people see only what is outward. They don't notice the home they're accused of wrecking probably had its own reasons for falling apart. They only see the explosion. They see what follows and not what went before. A win-win situation. No commitments, no emotional burden. An easy shrug off when he feels being cornered.

Would a man be called the Other Man? Never. It comes from thinking of women as more chaste beings. Even women have sexual urges is a surprisingly new idea to most men. The fact that a woman initiates sex, wants an orgasm too is anomalous. The Other Woman doesn't have an easy time of it. Never.

"As long as there is marriage, there will be a mistress," writes Victoria Griffin in The Other Woman. And as long as there is a mistress, may she find a voice.

She loves him without a tag, freely. She finds peace in knowing glances, shared moments, stolen sighs. Worrying if people would find out, what they'd say, was a fleeting instant of fear. She doesn't need public acknowledgement. It would seem to be a state of constant bliss. There's firmness to being the strength inside a man. She glows with secret love. Don’t you think a mistress is on par with the wife? She just owns a side of a man, a wife doesn't. She is equal, with spaces in her togetherness.

She shares joys without responsibilities, she consoles without being involved. There is a distance too because the relationship is fragile. On the other hand, wives and husbands go where the Other woman will never. They don't discuss “their” life much. Nobody knows about tomorrow so she lives more fully for today. Today, here and now, is all it's about. She is happy in her own ivory tower. One day, it will all come crashing she supposes and that’s the bitter truth. She shrugs. Tomorrow is another day.

You can tell she means it when she says "I am fearless. I don't fear failure, I don't fear anybody but ..." But what? Does Miss Bindaas actually fear something? Hush-hush secrets tumble out, embarrassed she admits, "It is so since more than a decade. I am scared of humans! It's so awkward that someone like me who is so independent just needs to have somebody around. It's some sort of inexplicable terror which I have to get over sometime in my life. But currently it seems impossible"

So the Other woman always remains a mistress, “The other Woman” and never a wife….coz nobody....nobody listens to her…..

~~ My World ~~

Delightful little butterflies seem to twirl around my waist as I woke up this morning into a Prussian blue dawn that was raising its reticent little head from the farther corner of the horizon ~ translucent, silvery, glorious.
Have you waited for something so long that you don't remember when it all started, spent infinite moments picturing it, rewinding and playing it in your head again and again and again. Tireless. But when its finally in front of you, circumnavigating the borders of sweet fruition; you're filled with a trepidation mingled mirth sort of sensation in the pit of your stomach, you're unsure it is happiness or excitement or fear.
A similar feeling fox-trot inside my belly tonight, as I see this breaking dawn, that just got newly color-splashed. And I realize, dreams do come true. You just have to hold on to them, a little longer that you thought you could.

Talking about your wedding with your mom is weird thing. As you are discussing the time, jewellery, the events, the works. Listening to her talk to you about how you should equip yourself to handle new responsibilities, the way she sees right through you and knows that when you don’t want to get married just yet, you actually mean you don't want to shoulder the responsibilities all the new relationships are going to bring.
She asks me, "And how many days are you going to fly like a careless birdie. After all you have your nest on earth; you are not a sky dweller." To which I grin and quip, "Till I grow old." She retorts as effortlessly as it can be, in her typical poetic demeanor and verbiage," No matter how old you become, you'll have to come back to your nest, isn't it? Won't you like to teach a small birdie like you how to fly, just like I taught my small birdie?” And just like that that battle is lost.
The journey of a mother and a daughter is such a queer one. It’s as if you both metamorphose into womanhood together, side by side. Learning from each other, sharing each other’s feelings as though you are just friends, taking each other's advice, sometimes fighting and then quickly making up because you both share the tendency of not being able to stay angry with people you love for too long. And you realize, you never want to leave her womb and see what they call "the world". For that is where your world is.
Maa….You are where my world is... There was never really another way without you, was there?

~~ If you must know ~~

If you must know...
There’s rarely been a moment,
Where my slender hopes have not been met,
With an ambition, stunningly audacious
That comes from dawning that you're here.
And you shall forever be.
We swap places when life makes us.
You're the sturdy one sometimes,
And I am, in others.

If you must know.
When we fetch each other light,
I think to myself, and agree
I'd rather bask in a tomfoolery
And think utopia exists.
Then I see you smile and conclude,
With clarity I rarely have,
I'd rather not do it any other way,
But to hang on to you.
Forever and beyond….
If at all….you must know.

~~ Crimson Death ~~

People die. And with that they leave behind an abyss. In one room, amongst sob and shock and stare and a sinking feeling looming large your world would have fallen apart. And nobody knows. Nobody ever can. The cynic smirks when they offer you words.
What are they thinking? Don't they know that moment words are just sounds, echoes of a redundant now, which simply glide above and around you, and never through you? That moment all you have passing through you is just a colossal barrenness, engulfing your blood pumping machine which resonates with the raucous white noise of a simple truth. People die.
Words never seem shallower. More crimson. I don't know what helps. I merely silently stand. Alongside.

I stand here and watch the people of this world:
All against one and one against all,
angry, arguing, plotting and scheming.
Then one day, suddenly, they die.

And each gets one plot of ground:
four feet wide, six feet long.
And so that they can scheme their way out of that plot,
They set the stone that immortalizes their name...

It hurts me. Death is sad but sadder is the fact that most people don't live at all….
Now poses the question, am I alive at all….coz I am already in an abyss...?