First love……

Saw my eyes absorb something for the first time,
The complexity with which she was woven into,
Her fragrance breathed life into my slumbered air,
Whipped my heart into a pumping machine,
Everything that day made sense,
The wind, the sun and the beautiful red rose,
I stood there in awe,
Love is what, I had gained..

The day you fall in love everything seems new, everything can be felt, everything is beautiful and you start believing in magic because magic is what love is…

This one for the girl I fell for the first time ever. 

Amma

We all want to thank our mothers for whatever she did for us. But we lack the will to do it. The following story is my way to thank my mother for whatever she did for me.
Cleaning the old store room of my house, I stumbled upon a box. It was the same box that had been an enigma for me since my childhood. The box belonged to my mother who never let anyone touch the box. Whenever I would ask what’s in the box, she would say “everything” and keep the box away. I sat down just staring at the old box that had lost its charm  because it no longer belonged to my mother. Even the box could not bear the separation from its lover, dilapidated, unkempt, unheard, unloved.  I heard a voice, it was similar, it was a voice that made me walk, made me talk, made me find my way in the dark. The voice was that of my mother, but she was far, away from the place, not near me, not visible. I could not open the box. I felt a tingling in my heart, some old records started playing, memories began unfurling, my ears vibrated telling me “don’t open the box”. I sat down on the floor, holding the box in my hands. Sometimes it is the small things that make  you realise that it is the small things that matter, bigger things come into picture when small combine. My mother always says that we are defined by what we do, how we behave with the not so fortunate, how we care for those we love, love is not something that exists between a couple, it is the need that makes you worry about the other person, ask for their health, do a chore for them, massage the tiring work away, call them, talk with them and most importantly listen to them. I started remembering the days when the only thing that mattered was the food that my mother made. How she would carefully dress every bite, wrap it in her filling that comprised every ingredient she could think of- care, affection, belongingness, sprinkle it with her foresightedness, open her mouth so that I could eat it and satisfy her hunger by the eyes that saw the bite entering my mouth, my teeth biting it and it going straight down my throat to my stomach. My father always commented on how she would open her mouth wide, wide enough to let someone peek inside her, to see what she felt, to hear what she never said. Everyday when I came back from the school she would be in the kitchen, preparing delicious meals for me and my brother. The aroma of the food would entice us the moment we would enter the realms where she reigned, the place we called home, where all of us would live, talk, fight, love, stay together. We would bang on the door and she would come sprinting and open the door for us. Dripping in the water that had condensed on her due to the excessive humidity of the abode of spices, she would take our bags and water bottles from us and in a voice that was exerted due to the exhilaration of the moment ask- “how was the day?” and there were we blabbering every thing that happened in the school- the new kid in the bus, the pencil that was lost, the sharpener that broke, the tiffin which the entire class ate, the teacher that spoke in a funny voice, the bird that sat on the desk, the cyclist that fell down. She would listen to our every nonsense and reply with a smile while helping us change. After we were finished talking she would ask- “what happened to your shirt?” and we would go numb, turn our face away from her, look down at our shoes and would say- “Amma what’s for lunch?”. Amma- that is what we used to call her. It was like she knew what happened with shirt, the way the world revolves, how people function, she would not scold us but in a calm voice would say- “you don’t need to fight with every person who starts to fight with you. Intelligent people ignore.” Her words had no relevance for us back then. We would hear it from one ear and let it pass through the other ear. But now I realise- her words were like the water that we give to a sapling, the water that gives it the strength to grow, to fight it’s way upto the top, to stand on its feet, that shapes it. After feeding us till she felt full, she used to escort us to our beds, make us lie down. I remember how when we were sleeping she would occasionally come to check on us. She would move her hands over my head. Her touch was special. It was not soft. Her hands scratched my head, left some marks on it. The delicious meals had carved their spaces on her fingers, her fingerprints disappeared in the tools that helped her prepare ecstacy, her body smell overshadowed by the fragrance of the divine flavours. Her hand was very special, she bore the brunts for the entire family, never complained, always smiled, never exhausted, always full of energy. I never saw her resting. In times when she was sick, we had to make her lie down. Love is not what we show, love is not what we feel, love is melting yourself to make someone better, adding yourself to them so that they grow by leaps and bounds. She always tried to mix with us, match with us in our so called technical know-how but we always ignored her. She never said a word, never changed her love for us, always stood by us. During the exams she would ask -” how are studies, do you need anything” and I don’t know which power she got, she could comprehend the exact same thing what I wanted. She could read faces, hear what I thought, feel the pain of my broken heart. There were times when I got sick. Amma would go anxious, she wanted me running, screaming, shouting. I could see her fighting my sickness with the will that was stronger than the strongest celestial force in the world, searching for the root, devising ways to kill the thing that had kept her little packet of joy on the bed. She would be excited when I was participating in something. Her face reflected how proud she felt when she saw me on stage, her hard work was successful, her kid a star in her eyes. She would clap like crazy and will look at me to make me comfortable on the atrium that was frightening me. Words are always not necessary , eyes speak what words may lack. Whenever I scored well, she would declare to everyone that her kid is the brightest. It was almost a dream come true for her. Amma is a religious person. She loves chatting with the one who lives in some place unknown, but is visible in everyone. Keeping fasts for everything was her way of ensuring that everything went in the same exact order. Anything new that was brought had to undergo a ritual of induction in the family. It was auspicious she said, it makes things last longer. Beliefs are something very dicey. You believe that Earth is round, but at the same time you believe  that the world is flat. Beliefs can drive people to do things impossible or can turn them incapable of doing the possible. Whatever happened she was the one who never broke, never let anything disturb her inner peace or never wanted to show her weaker side. She guided each one of us in the times of distress. Never made us lose hope. While remembering this I realised that i still had the box in my hand. I opened it. The contents of the box took away all the inhibitions I had. After a long time I was crying, crying like a baby, who cannot be consoled. My eyes rolled down tears that were mixed with emotions of respect and love for my mother. I wanted to hug her, wanted to kiss her. But she was not there. The box fell from my hands and everything was scattered on the floor. Everything she had said. Everything for her was everything that we ever did for her. All the birthday cards that we made for her, all the medals we won, all the pictures that were lost. There was stillness in the room, I was crying my heart out. Appearances are deceptive. They cover your inner feelings. After seeing what was everything, I couldn’t resist but ponder what was I doing. I was staying away from the only thing that brought me in this world. I immediately took my car out and started driving in the direction where Amma lived.

They were two but one…

They were two most beautiful pieces of the puzzle. Simple yet sophisticated. It was refreshing to see them, hold hands, talk to one another, look at only to make the other person shy away. This bond they shared reminded me of the bond of the wind to the wind chime. The music is soothing when both of them work together. In harmony, synthesized to a perfect tune. ……….

Is waiting worth it?

Dear Miss yet to come,
Lately I have been into a deep thought of you. Waiting for you has become so difficult these days when all I can think about is being with you. You know I have been patient enough for the days when I was enlightened about what a partner means in one’s life. I came across texts that told me that a partner in your life is the one with whom you can share your joy and Sufferings, your remorse and the things that you can boast of. But I think a partner cannot be just for sharing what you are going through. The very meaning of partner can be derived from the word partner itself. Part-Ner, a part of the puzzle, a part that completes anybody to make them somebody. Forever we have been through situations that warranted an action that was unique to give birth to a reaction that was strange. Something that shook our entire way of thinking, our perspective of looking at things, our reactions. Sometimes we were glad about something that had happened, sometimes we cried. But you know the best thing about experiences, is that everytime it happens  we learn a lesson. We haven’t yet met but there is a connection that i can feel through the eternal ties of something far beautiful than the racing rays of the sunlight, the pierced clouds that cover the sky, Than the bloated pastures of the golden seeds and this connection is the one that keeps on telling me that somewhere you are also going through that something that is strengthening this connection, bit by bit, every single day. You are also experiencing a reaction that is making you feel differently. I just want to tell you I am here experiencing things that you haven’t experienced yet, just waiting for the day when that connection of ours is fully established. There is something I want to tell you beforehand, I am a great listener but a terrible speaker. The will be times when you will have to comprehend my silence and react accordingly. And I am a boring person. The things I do best are to look and observe and think about them in ways anybody rarely thinks. Have you ever seen a falling feather. You are that feather for me. The one single feather that can make me fly, the one feather that tickles my bones only to make feel alive, soft, smooth, transcendent. You know I want to be the wind that carries it to carres it gently on the ground. I just want to be your part and I want you to be mine. I want to hold your hand in the falling rain, carry you in my arms when you get tired, hug you tight when things are not right, listen to your voice everyday, I want you to be the first person I see in the morning and last one when I close my eyes, I want to feel your soft hands over my chest, your breath in my ears, your heartbeat synced with mine. I want to see you sleep, drag you hair behind your ear, bite your lips over something. I want to be the reason you smile, the reason you rise, the reason you glow. There are many things I want to say to you dear Miss yet to come. But you know there are still many things left for you and me to experience and still many more that we have to experience together. 

Until then, I will wait for you. But please dear Miss yet to come don’t keep me waiting for long. I want to do so many things for you that this life feels so short and I don’t believe in reincarnations. But if it was possible to be reincarnated I want to be your partner in every life.
I’ll finish with this last quote.

“A course down the life track, there were people who met me back, who kept standing on the side track, they tried to bring me down, laughed whenever I had a fall, but then there was you standing there everytime, you held my hand, helped me stand, now when I am searching for you, where are you, lost in the Meadows, I need you.”

Waiting for you,
With lots of love,
Kumar Harsh 

A shooting star….

Dear Miss yet to come,
How can i ever forget the day we met. I don’t know how the gears of world move, how they affect the every screw, every fabric of the interconnected relations that bind the whole world together in a family we all term as humanity. Until today I believed that everything is happening just randomly, the stars twinkle, water sprinles over the lawn, the baby cries, cracks appear on the surface, people fade away from our memories, people collide, people become friends. But after today everything random appears to have a pattern. Stars twinkle because they tell that someone is there to light your world, water sprinles because it has to freshen up the grass, the fragrance of which can lure the imagination of a distant writer, baby cries because sometimes it is not always necessary to laugh, cracks appear to bare what lies beneath, people fade away so that they can collide with you unexpectedly and become friends for life. I never thought that I would meet a person like you ever in life for I believed that everything happened randomly. You have shaken my entire way of thinking, entire way of looking at things, a whole new perspective to see the man in the mirror. You know there was a time when I thought there is nothing new in trying. And why should I have tried anything new. My life was going randomly I used to tell myself. But then, I collided with you and I am really grateful to the force that is moving the gears of the world, connecting pieces of a huge jigsaw puzzle. You and me are just its part.
The day we met will always remain the day when I saw a shooting star cross by a star standing besides me.

The Impatient Me…

Hello friends,

This is a story that has been derived from my life. Hope most of you can relate to it.

Walking down the yard I was feeling burdened, burdened from the fears that were burning my mind from inside, preventing any clarity of mind, preventing any action. I kept on thinking what will happen if I say so, what if, what then, how. My mind was playing with me and heart was injured in this process. I crossed the yard, opened the door to my red mustang, sat in it and looked in the mirror seldom used to see the ones following you, the ones that stare at you, to look behind. Flashback started, the cassette of my life reversed to the very starting.

The alarm clock set on the side of my single bed would everyday wake me up to a new day, a day that seemed like the previous day. Rise, dress, join the parade. My life was as boring as it could be. I had no surprises, no expectations, I was flowing with the flow. Nevertheless, I religiously attended the college because it was one place where I could talk with humans in the real world. My only friend Craig would meet me in the class, where he would be dying to tell what happened with him and his ‘so called girlfriend’ the previous day. I had no choice but to listen, making me feel worse inside, why can’t I talk to girls, is it so difficult?

Everything was going the way it meant to, classes held as scheduled, lunch breaks were as gossiping as before, time passed, bell rang and my journey back to home began. Just as I was getting in my car, Craig held me from behind and said” hey man, college fest is next month.” Fests are something that were alien to me because the sight of couples indulging in public display of affection in the fests would make me sick, making me realize how single I was. But my love for writing possessed me and I asked Craig for the details of only the literary events. Craig looked at me like a mother who was prepared to scold her child, like a librarian who would stare at you because you could not keep silent, like a girl who had been offended by someone of her beauty. “Brother do you even know what a fest means. It means to celebrate, to enjoy, to live.” Are you going to tell me about the events or not? I asked rudely and seeing nothing I jumped in my car and drove. This is normal with me. I usually tend to over react to situations, patience is something I was not born with and never tried developing it. I reached home and while sitting on my bed I realized that I had done wrong with the only friend I had. I called him. It is said that opposites attract, Craig was entirely opposite of me. He had dozens of friends, every weekend he was invited to a party. He took many initiatives to acquaint me with his friends but I avoided, discarded his every attempt. He picked up my call and said” What?” “Sorry man, you know how I am”, I tried to defend my case. You know what, I try so much to make you feel happy, why don’t you want to be happy? I had no answer. But, then it was the usual me, I had no answer why was I like that, why the colours seemed so vibrant, why the music sounded too loud, why every morning was just another morning, what to do with the mirror.

Ignorance is bliss

I ignored everything around me and sometimes ignored even myself.  The next day I met Craig he was completely normal as nothing had happened the previous day. He gave me a list of all the literary events along with the contacts. Thanks buddy” I said and hugged him. “Man don’t do this to yourself, you deserve better.” He whispered in my ears. After the college I contacted the people involved with the organizing and stated my inclination towards writing. They readily took me. Literature does not attract the already centre of attraction, the cool, the hot. Everything was prepared and we were set to welcome the participants at the fest.

The fest was inaugurated by the director of our college. People were excited, smiles rode the faces, happiness drove people to stalls, butter popcorn was all over the place, occasional laughter, gigs and gags, best dresses gathered eyeballs, hairstyles were all new, shades sat over nose.  We waited for our event to start. The participants started coming in and we started registering them. Then, something happened, unexpected to me, something totally intriguing. I was busy in registering the participants when I heard a voice that was the most serene, most soothing I had ever heard. “Hi, I wanted to register for the event.” The voice said, I lifted my face to see the most beautiful, divine creation of the heavenly bodies that was nurtured with utmost affection and care. I could not take my eyes off her. Dressed in an ethnic garb, her eyes were like black holes, the one you want to be lost in, the ones from where you don’t want to come out, the dimples on her face made me think of the craters of the Moon,  her hair was shining like a wood furniture that had been just polished. Immaculate, unearthly, out of the league. I was so lost in her that my other friend jerked me. I gathered my senses, ordered them to behave and continued the process. The competition started and everybody got busy. But I could not prevent myself from seeing her. I kept on looking at her and every time she played with her hair, I skipped a beat. The entire competition I did not hear or see anybody. The host announced the end of the competition. My heart broke, stop the time it said, you would not see her again. Disappointments are a part of life, I thought but this disappointment was too much to bear. She went outside the hall, I saw her leaving the room, an angel had left the place of commons. My mind, my heart, my thoughts went along with her and I took off for my home. Patience is a virtue which can drive individuals to act, sometimes prohibit action. But patience is something that could not root inside me. An impatient me, I messaged her on the phone number she gave.

“Hi, this is the organizer, quite a speech you gave that day. I wanted to ask whether you’ll be coming for the next event.” She replied.” I may not come to participate but I may come to attend.”

This response of her left me hanging by the thread. I couldn’t sleep, my mind started to make stories, whether she’ll come, what if she does not come. I waited for the night to over and day to rise. I woke up before the alarm, today I could hear the birds sing, wind rustle, trees mingle, school buses whoosh. I checked my inbox to see if any message was there by her. Alas nothing.

I dressed up for the fest, combed my hair, overshadowed my bodily aroma with the fragrance of a perfume and set for the college.

The event started, she did not come. My heart broke. But suddenly I felt a vibration; my heart was given an electric shock to revive it from the dead. She had messaged! When is the concert ? Her message read. Friend in need is a friend in need. Craig was there and without thinking I asked him about the details of the event. Craig was taken aback; he told everything to me with an excitement of a child who had just come from riding a swing and was telling everything to the mother. In a blink of eye I messaged her. Impatiently I asked her whether she was coming or not. She said, yes. I felt like I’m on cloud nine, ecstasies knew no bound. I was too afraid to meet her, thought that a girl so beautiful would reject me point blank. I was too normal, too common, not at all humorous, couldn’t crack a joke. So, I stayed away from her, let her be a lost dream, tried to forget her, let myself be disappointed. Fest had ended and the usual routine again found its way into me. But this time I had twisted and turned my routine. I never knew what to do with a mirror installed in the corner of my bathroom. After meeting the ‘Angel’, the mirror had become my close associate. I would stand hours in front of the mirror trying every dress, every hairstyle. Colours had become too vibrant, morning became blissful, music was too good. Days passed by and I tried forgetting her. Sometimes actions that are performed with planning may result into something unplanned and vice versa. I don’t know what was up with me that day; I tried searching her on a popular social networking site. Actions led to reactions and I found her profile. Curiosity drove me to check her profile. I tried to find something to talk to her about. Eureka! I found what I was looking for. She was an avid reader. I gathered my strength and messaged her about a book I had just read. “Hi, just a suggestion, you must check out Winterfell by Manners. It is a good book.” I waited impatiently for a reply. Time passed too slowly. I could very clearly hear the clock ticking, gears moving. I lost all hope when the reply did not come the whole day. I was confident that it was a bad move. I tried to indulge in other activities to ward off whatever going in my mind. My hands went over the phone and a moment of joy was born. She had messaged “thanks, will definitely add it to my list.” Circumstances were so that our chat continued for hours. Time passed so swiftly, in a blink of eye. My life had changed completely. The songs in my phone that were desperately seeking attention, made me realize that music can do wonders. The songs rejuvenated me, flowers were so beautiful, mornings were so serene, birds sang immaculately, I looked at stories with a whole new perspective. Everything was going smoothly; I felt that nothing was wrong in the world. I had changed completely and my friend Craig was the first one to notice.” Something is fishy.” Craig asked when he met me the other day. “nothing man” I explained. “ His expressions were similar to that of a policeman who would ask the culprit whether he had done a crime or not and the culprit who did the crime would reply otherwise. “ If you will not tell me about it, then never again talk with me.” Craig said. I could not resist any further and told him everything: how I saw her and how I fell for her. Craig listened very carefully. He then gave his expert opinion and told me not to rush with things. So, I waited and tried building a relationship with her, tried to know her interests, what she liked and it came out to be that she was mature than her age. Seldom she would guide me, console me whenever I was feeling low, make me laugh when nothing seemed right. I tried to make her laugh but my sense of humor never could match her comic timing. She was perfect, she was the one. Everything about her made me feel that she deserved better, that I was no match for her. Craig tried hard to make me feel otherwise. But his every attempt went in vain. Exams were to start in my college, I deviated all my focus towards them and thought that it would be best if I forget her. I could not resist thinking about her every second, every day of my life. Somehow my exams finished, I checked my inbox and saw a message from her. “ Hi, I wanted to tell you that my father has been transferred to another country. I would be leaving on 23rd. “ I checked the calendar. Today is 23rd!! It felt like that the earth was torn apart, sky had fallen down. I could not think of anything, how to stop her, how would I see her, how would I meet her. Everything stopped. Impatience amalgamated with adrenaline and I took out my car drove as fast as I could and reached her home. Her home was just like the ones you see in television commercials, just like all the other ones that were resting besides it. It was coloured red with a big yard , planted with many trees and plants of various types. My eyes noticed everything, everything including the lock that was there sitting at the door, mocking me, laughing at me. Her house was locked, she had left, I could not tell her of my feelings. I was disappointed, I started walking down the yard, I was feeling burdened, burdened from the fears that were burning my mind from inside, preventing any clarity of mind, preventing any action. I kept on thinking what will happen if I said so, what if, what then, how. My mind was playing with me and heart was injured in this process. I crossed the yard, opened the door to my red mustang, sat in it and looked in the mirror seldom used to see the ones following you, the ones that stare at you, to look behind. I was just about to leave when I saw a taxi stopping behind me. My heart started beating fast, a miracle had just happened. She was there, coming out of the taxi, an Angel on earth, created with utmost precision and affection of the divine creatures. I could not stop myself, pushed myself out of my car, sprinted towards her and hugged her so tightly that I could feel her heartbeats, they were beating fast, synced with mine. A connection was established, tears rolled down my eyes, my eyes that kept on staring her. She was surprised, could not digest what had just happened. I saw the confusion in her eyes and explained everything whatever I wanted to tell her.

“ Before meeting you, I thought that world is a cruel place, a place where the ones those who wear masks, survive, people cannot be trusted, feelings are deceptive. I thought that I can only survive if I appear tough from outside, showed no feelings, lived my life alone. But the day I met you my life has changed. I have realized that even though the world is a cruel place, people cannot be trusted, but we are the ones that can allow it to hurt ourselves. I have started to live my life, listen to songs, dress well, help people. I could not say anything to you because I always thought that you are out of my league. You were so perfect. However, when I saw your message today, I realized what you mean to me. I do not want to you to leave because if you leave you will take along with you a part of my life that has been keeping me alive since the day I saw you. Please don’t do this to me.” There was silence. None of us could speak. I turned backwards and started to move to my car. “Hey mister “ she said. I turned towards her. She was crying. She ran towards me, jumped over me and hugged me. I was relieved, I was happy, I was reborn.

In life, we find people, we meet them, we get to know them, they fade away. This is an age old process and will continue forever. Sometimes we find people who we want to stay in our lives forever and this process requires an effort that has to be initiated at the earliest opportunity possible. Opposites attract but the other opposite is special, always remember that. The day we stop the effort to keep them in our lives, that day marks the fading away of those people from our lives. So, call your friend, make a cup of tea for your special someone, do the dishes for your mother, pay the bills for your father, play with your brother, talk, sing, celebrate, live and above of all- DO THE WORK.

Dear Beautiful..

Appearances can sometimes be deceptive
Realities can sometimes be harsh
But whenever You are with me
Appearances fade away in the realities of dreams.

Dear Beautiful,
life gives sometimes someone a perspective unimaginable, unintentional, wholly changing, deeply affecting.
My life was turned upside down the minute I saw you entering the portal of Earth, created, nurtured, grown by the utmost affection of the heavenly creatures with a patience unbound, unheld, entrenched with the beauty of perception.
I really want to tell you that your black eyes have made me lose my mind, flooded my mind with the dreams of life with you.
Hope that you have a wonderful life ahead.

As once said by a lover,

“The beauty of the body fades away but the beauty of the mind reincarnates, rejuvenates and replenishes.”