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..

when it rained...

Remember the day we met..?
Forever?
You had the rain in your hair..
You Held the musky wind..
in your scent..
...
When our lips did meet,
I could taste ,the husky sting...
of a woman unloved.
...
That was also the day
I came to know
What was it for the Earth
To feel the drench..

तू.. आणि पाऊस...

ह्या पावसाच्या सरी पण ना..
अगदी तुझ्यासारख्याच...

आल्या तर प्रसन्न वाटतं..
नाही आल्या तर खूप रुक्ष वाटतं..
कधी न सांगता येतात...
कधी कधी रोज भेटत राहतात...

कधी धुवांधार.. कधी शांत..
ह्या पावसाच्या सरी पण ना..
अगदी तुझ्यासारख्याच...

कधी आठवणीत.. कधी रात्रीच्या शांततेत..
ह्या पावसाच्या सरी पण ना..
अगदी तुझ्यासारख्याच...

प्रत्येक थेंबात जगण्याची नवीन आस..
ह्या पावसाच्या सरी पण ना..
अगदी तुझ्यासारख्याच...

A Falling Star...

A falling star ... I see you.

And I see you too.

You twirl yourself around in circles. Spraying misty colors… diluting every inch of the canvas painted moments earlier. You walk through the haze, confident in your steps, head held high, sharp eyes with clarity in thought and vision. But, a halo of colors and a comet of bright lights blind your eyes for just a moment. It was a sudden thunderclap of a memory drenched in the rain. And there she was—the scared little girl who looked around feverishly with her big brown eyes, darting here and there for assurance and love. She had trembling lips and quivering brow.

Snap. Gone is the true child. And I see you again—determined and strong. No twinge of guilt… no second thoughts… chains of control around a pure heart. There was no trespassing of thoughts over forbidden grounds. It was a trail of smoke… a whiff of an intimate scent.

But a gaze from nowhere trails up your arms. The girl turns, peeks through the mist. Smiles. Waves. Blushes and disappears.

Enough.

You turn around looking at the shadows, deciphering the silhouette, recognizing the soft glow hidden by the ashes left yet you refuse to acknowledge.

Frozen in time, the girl runs through the floating colors, brushing aside butterflies, she picks two bluebells and sits next to me. You watch in amazement as you see a boy, whom you once knew as you know yourself, place a flower in the tucked-in curls of a girl, whom you once knew as you knew him. Digging nails in soft palms, a clenching of the fist, a tightening of the rope around the heart, a bite of the lip, you reel in the anchor. But you turn away and walk.

The girl looks towards the receding figure. She looks again at the boy she met after many lonely years. The mist, the colors, the lights beckon her to come quick. After a peck on the cheek she runs towards herself and vanishes into dreamscapes. Freedom. Yet not free.

You feel the burden and look back for forgiveness. I nod and let you go. With a shake of the head, I sit down on the curb again. Waiting for the falling star to wish a glance again, I clasp the shrunk flower closely to my heart.


-omi