he wants..

He wants to insist on taking her back to a simpler life...

A life where you turned the radio on in the morning and not the iPad, life where you brewed coffee and stuck around long enough to feel its aroma spread through the house, where you take a moment to feel the weight of the warm blanket on you, and appreciate the soft sheets and the hard pillows. Open the window and smell the trees - not the flowers but the trees. Name every creature, alive or inanimate, because they all deserve some identity.

He wants to make sure that she takes naps especially when her brain was in overdrive. 

He wants her  to spend no less than an hour at the bookstore even if she has no intention of buying anything. 

He wants to show her how to keep her face close to the cup and blow on the hot tea so she can feel the heavenly warmth on her face. 

They want to practice, and continue to practice patience - they should started small - waiting for the water to get warm, patiently watching the YouTube video to load, waiting for the coffee to cool down enough so it doesn't burn the tongue, slowing down at the yellow light instead of speeding up, keeping the phone away for a few minutes and laying down to stare at the ceiling. 

He wants to insist on "giving" - be it to her, to a friend, or to someone in need. 'coz he needs to be a better person to make her happier! and to make the lives simpler!

He wants to show her the joys of being sung a lullaby as she drifts off to sleep, and the importance of sleeping - to shut it out, to let it go, to allow your body to be at peace even if only for half an hour.

He wants her to control her anger, to let someone else win for a change. 

Over the years, he wants her realize that everyone is a flawed person. 

The realization should not make anyone sad or angry. It makes us humble. 

He wants her to realize that people make mistakes - that she has made mistakes, even he has made blunders and the world hasn't come to an end. 

The world doesn't come to an end for anyone. He wants succeed in making her a better person, a simpler person, a happier person, and make her life full of nice things!

He wants their life uncluttered by things - mind free - all the junk is cleaned out. He wants them to live in moment that live out the things they buy and the things they get worked up about. He wants to make her feel like a little girl learning it all over again. 

and ultimately he wants her to know she has so much space and so much peace inside her..

wait..

Moonlight becomes you..
I'm thrilled at the sight..
And we could get so romantic tonight..
You're all dressed up to go dreaming.

Sinatra sang in her ears as she sat on one of the benches in a park nearby.. She has yet to find her favorite bench. But she is working on it. (But she has been telling herself that for years now). Ideally she won't be sitting here alone. She would be sharing this beautiful view of the water and the even more beautiful city beyond the water with him. She carries a splitter in her purse nowadays - that little piece of wire that lets you connect two different headphone sets to the same outlet. She carries it around in case she ever gets to reenact a scene from Begin Again. She probably won't.

She has been carrying a sickness in her heart for so many years. Every now and then she realizes that and she wants to cry. But no tears come out. It's just sort of a sick sadness. Sad sickness. This life can't be so short. These nights can't be so long.

Perhaps some day she will put her act together and find a favorite bench, and walk long enough with him to call it an actual walk. For now, its just Mr. Sinatra and her - as we have been for many years.

What a night to go dreaming.

This is a work of fiction.

Friday Nothings

I walked in the apartment at 1:24pm on a Friday. I didn't remember the last time I saw my apartment with the sunlight on a weekday. But not that Friday. That Friday was a start of a vacation. I had absolutely nothing to do for the next three days. I could finally just sit there and read a book that I had been meaning to for so long, or drink lots of coffee or spend all my days at a bookstore or go get lost somewhere in the mountains, or I could have just continued to lie on the couch and do absolutely nothing.

Isn't that nice? To have absolutely nothing to do for a little while? It is a rare blessing in the kind of life I lead and perhaps you do too. I was quite happy. But only for that Friday. That half a day of beautiful nothingness. The rest of the time, one thing or another came up as it always does. So many errands needed to be run, bills needed to be paid, people needed to be seen, family needed help, and before I knew it I was sucked back into everything else, and that empty space was filled again with all sorts of tasks, except anything meaningful.

I wonder if we ever really get to do what we really want to do in life. When does happiness last for more than half a day. When, if ever, do we truly get to live..

Eclipsed

It's been four years since he last spoke to her. Four years.
That's how long it takes to graduate from college.
That's how long it takes for February 29 to come back around, and that's how long it takes for us to experience a total solar eclipse.

He'd like to think that it has been four years because they have just lost touch, like it happens when people grow old, move away and become busy with their careers. He'd like to think that she has moved far away, to a sunny state, for a job or may be even a Masters. He'd like to think that she is so terribly busy with the long hours and the beaches and the hikes she loved so much that she has no time to pick up the phone and call him. He'd like to think that she is really happy. That she has found a man who adores her, she has already moved in with him in an artist's studio apartment with white brick walls, and spectacular views of the city. He'd like to think that she has made new friends, and she goes out every weekend, gets drunk and then spends the Sundays hungover, so obviously she's been unable to call him over the weekends.

He'd even like to think that she is really angry with him. Perhaps over a silly little thing he did back in the day. Or perhaps because he really hurt her. Because he is an awful, terrible human being whom she completely despises. He'd like to think that she refuses to speak to him again. He can live with that.

He'd like to think that she is not dead. She is pissed off, busy, far away, happy, angry, moved-on, does-not-care-for-me-anymore, but not dead.

In the memory of adorable angel (1986-2006)
- scribed on 11th July 2010

Love time!

While writing this I already have hit the sack but feeling insomniac.
Just a few thoughts about the Valentine's Day..

The last time I checked, this was supposed to be a day to celebrate love. Not a day that would make us feel lonely, and sad, and sometimes just desperate. We all feel lost sometimes but it almost seems like this day is now designed to make us feel more lost. If romantic love has entered your life, that's wonderful. Try to take out some time today and acknowledge it. If love has not swept you off your feet yet, it will come to you when it is ready. You can't find love, love will have to find you, and it will. Your only job is to make sure you let it in when it does find you. Its when you are not expecting it that it will hit you hardest — and isn't that what makes life so tragically wonderful?

Until then, trust that the universe knows what it is doing and focus on making yourself better for when love does come knocking at your door or bumping into you around the corner of a coffee shop. You must learn to be patient.

Just remember today that you are not alone, unless you choose to be, and deep down inside you, you already know that.

Sound Sleep...

Everyone of us has an idea about how our life partner should be.. but its not easy to find right person at the right time. Its not actually about right or wrong.. they are just relative phenomena. Let's say.. its all about finding a perfect match!

He was the most unlikely of companions. She didn't think she would have anything in common with someone who loves to be with himself. She didn't think that she would like a thick beard on a man's face either. It hides the face and she always liked looking. Neither did she want too tall. But there he was. Five feet eleven and supporting a thick french beard, not to mention loved being with himself.

She'd hoped that it would happen. That they would meet again. That she'd finally be able to have all the conversations with him that she only had in her mind. She had imagined the meeting a few different ways. Perhaps she'll be visibly excited, smiling, beaming with joy, shy, quiet, hesitating to make eye contact. None of that mattered now that he was here. Sitting right next to her on that beige sofa in his living room. He was looking at her quietly.

Suddenly, she felt sleepy. Of all the scenarios she had played out in her head for this moment, feeling sleepy was not one of them. She tried not to yawn. She leaned towards him, as if she was about to kiss him. But she didn't. She leaned further into him so that he had to lean back and lie down - she on top of him. When she put her head on his chest, she felt a familiar scent, but she couldn't make much of it. She was too sleepy for that. She closed her eyes while her fingers played with his fingers.

The way she slept, with her face softened and arms wrapped around his shoulders, was beautiful. She hadn't slept like that in a long time.

Idea of love!

We have preconceived notions of a person we think we'll love.

If someone would have painted a picture of him to her before she met him, it probably wouldn't have been too appealing to her. Not because he was lacking something, it's just that he didn't fit her profile at the time. He didn't fit her idea of a person she would ever love.

For so many years, she lived with the idea of a man - not really a man. She liked how it made her feel. It made her feel content and comforted - that idea of his. It was when she was at her best and he was his. He never really lived with him, she lived with all the thoughts she created in her head about him. All the time she had been seeing him, it was really the idea of his that she wanted to see. She didn't really love him, she loved what she imagined he was, what he was supposed to be. and suddenly she thought, did she love him?!
She loved him so much. Now, it isn't him she is letting go, it is that idea of him in her head, and that's what pains her.
The idea of him that she nurtured, and loved, and cherished is what she has to let go.

It's so terrifying but we all have to recognize at some point that we don't truly love anyone until we let go of the idea of what we are supposed to love - to let go of the person that exist only in our heads. Loving real human beings is hard, but that's the only love that lasts..

His Confession

It seems like my words have just been reduced to one woman. When I write to her my heart turns into oceans and my words to shores. All the ocean knows is to come back to the shore, with no two waves alike. I can describe her almost perfectly.. from the spontaneous energy in her kajal-eyes to her beautiful fingers, and to that faint scar on her forehead. She talks of some great people and madness. She smells of euphoria and happiness. Her eyes look of intellect and soulful desire. She listens to my life. She makes me long to lie with her. And when she looks at the low moon in the winter sky surrounded by the mountains of forever -my words just can't stop spinning. Every time this moon shines, it witnesses the overwhelming emotion in my heart, and perhaps it nods at my determination to hold her tighter than time.

I want to write something heart-wrenching beautiful. I want to write something that would crawl under the readers' skin and reduce their souls to shreds. I want to write with the longing that we dare not talk about, the suffering that we carefully tuck away between layers and layers of darkness and secrets. I want my words to dance on their wildest imagination; crack their hearts open so that new light can shine through. But I am just useless.

Lately, I write to find that moment - the moment that led to me this madness.

-omi

Madness...

Writing after a long time guys!!
Hope you like it!

She was desperate to find something, anything that would soothe her ache. She wanted to not feel the craziness of her heart. She wanted to forget and not want the things she couldn't have. She wanted to exchange her burned, scarred heart with a brand new one, and she was desperately hunting for the clean heart, for a fresh start.

When she met him, she knew. She knew it was the purest heart she could find, and she had to have it. She was so desperate to clean herself that she did not care if she dirtied him in the process. So the first opportunity she got, she pounced. She dug her nails in his skin, and ripped his chest out. And there it was, the most beautiful thing in the world, and she was about to have it. She was about to rid herself of all her crazy, and all the her madness. It was wonderful.

And yet, no matter what she did, she couldn't take it. He was smarter than she thought, he was better than she thought. She wanted a fix, and he wouldn't allow it. He actually loved her. It was almost cruel.

All she ever wanted was a man who would soothe her madness. That was the only way she knew. But he only burned it more, made her crazier. He was right: the cure was not to fix the crazy but to accept it. She wanted to forget. He made it okay for her to remember

Wish you a very Happy New Year!! God bless!

-omi

Be Brave!

There are people who couldn't deal with the idea of a modern woman living her life independent and traveling late around the city. So they raped her - beat her - in a rapid moving bus in the nation's capital and then threw her out on the street to die. And with that - they have raped India and left its dignity naked on the street. They were six of them against her - all of 23 years of age. Practically a baby with the world yet to be discovered. The way India and each Indian failed this girl is utterly reprehensible and marks a moment of deepest shame for the nation.

In few weeks that followed the incident, I watched the social dialogue focused on the lack of law and order and on the demands of death penalty for the accused. India's politicians (including women!) ever representative of the pathetic state of the Indian government, came out saying ridiculously sexist and insensitive comments. In some instances even equating every rape victim to be a prostitute.

A few days back - that poor girl took her last breaths and has now left a nation of questions - of confusion - of anger and hurt and of a very uncertain future. Like most of India's intractable problems - the issue of injustice against women is systemic, its root causes embedded deep in the Indian culture.  And unfortunately like most times of tragedy, the dialogue has been about symptoms rather than the disease.

Yet another group of citizens have vociferously expressed despair. Statements of "nothing will ever change" have been written and heard in different hues all across social media and in discussions. Little do these people realize that accepting "Nothing will change" makes it a self fulfilling prophecy.

NO!  This is not a time to despair and lose hope. This is a time - if there ever was one - to fight! This is a time for each Indian to sit alone in a room and delve deep into his soul. And to confront his weaknesses. If you are a man - think about each time you have been unfair or uncourteous to a woman - learn to accept it - take responsibility for it - truly apologize for it,  and take steps to mend it.

If you are a woman - think about each time you have been ill-treated - or led to believe you are lesser than a man - but instead of fighting this lie you relented and kept quiet - think about each chance you have had to challenge this ridiculous notion and missed. This is not a time to despair. This is a time for Courage. Courage to face your flaws - Courage to do what is hard - Courage to stand up for those who can't for themselves.

The six wretched, depraved animals who robbed 'Amanat' of her dignity and forever stole her chance at a happy and successful life - do not deserve to live. But they do not deserve to die either - death in these circumstances is too merciful. These men should be sentenced not just to life-imprisonment - but a lifelong of solitary confinement. They should be kept under strictly regulated conditions - in a tall white room with smooth walls and bright lights - where there is nothing but the sound of their own voice - all day - all night - 24 hours each long day - 7 days each miserable week - until the end of their lives. Locked in a prison where nothing ever changes - no sound ever creeps in - no one offers death - or company or utters a single word - a prison with no windows - no features - utterly and absolutely nothing to spare them from the company of their thoughts and from the repent of their actions.  They should be given proper food and nourishment just to make them live another day. They should be prevented from taking  their own lives. They should be forever locked in a white box they try to escape - try and fail - try and fail all over again - every single day. May be - may be  - just may be - that will begin to atone for the barbaric acts they have committed.

And yet what does that do to mend your soul ? What does that do to bring 'Amanat' back and what does it do to stop that burning, excruciating pain you are feeling in your heart .. nothing. And so we have to rise and pick ourselves up and pledge to do everything we can to ensure no woman in India is ever treated this way again.  You may not succeed this week, this year or even in your lifetime - but when you get to the end, you should be able to hold your head high and say you fought with all you could.

If you want her death to mean something - you have to change the way you live and what you accept as normal - for the rest of your lives. If you are a man, call and talk to every significant woman in your life. And promise her to be better, kinder, and more courteous and to protect her against all dangers.  If you want her death not to be in vain, then - learn to accept your mistakes and pledge never to repeat them again. If you are truly a son of India - then take heart - for you were born in the land of Shri Ram - of Marayada Purushottam (मर्यादा पुरुषोत्तम) himself - and in your blood you have the strength to be righteous. If you are truly a Man, then promise yourself to stand up for the women in your life - against anyone - anything - no matter what the outcome.

If you are a woman - then remind yourself each day - that no one - NO ONE can ever rob you of your dignity. Remind yourself that 'Amanat' died because she fought back - against all odds and no hope of escape - she stood up for what she believed in - and though she may have died - she died fighting.  You swear with every red cell in your blood to fight injustice. Swear to stop at every instance you are wrongly treated as less than a man - and turn and fight this insidious lie.  Take a pepper spray - take self defense lessons - carry a rock or carry a blade - but you make sure you can hurt any man who ever tries to take advantage of you.  Swear to yourself to be fearless and to hit back at anyone who thinks you are vulnerable. If you ever get in a tough spot - take the name of 'Amanat' and drive your knee so far and so hard up his balls - that he no longer remains a man.

Stand India!! For this is the time for courage. This is the time to be brave!