[Not the beginning]
Truth without conviction,
Passion lacking force,
Desire still wanting…
Fire luke warm.
Now lies are facts misconstrued…
And love is… oh so tamed!
Tears are found heroic,
And heroism, a shame.
A century since Eliot,
Men are still hollow…
Vodka slouching in vain veins,
Head pieces stuffed with smoke.
Leaning together banging,
In sync with Pink Floyd,
This is the way the world goes,
This is the way it goes…
[Not the end!]
Hello people... after a long time... does anyone still haunt this place? About the poem, well... you may understand it better if you read The Hollow Men by TS Eliot. Cheerios! :)
Friday, November 6, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
A Passing Diversion...
She kept staring at the cell phone beside her… waiting to feel the vibration, to hear the peppy Spanish number she had for a ringtone, to see the blue light lit up and show his name… but this was not to be…
Her mind drifted… drifted to those times when everything was perfect. Almost… for she had not known or expected a greater perfection. He was not someone she would marry, she was not someone he could spend his life with. They were friends, best of friends. Both their love devoted elsewhere and let me add unrequited. He was her support system, the only shoulders she could fall back on in the unknown city. The only person who never asked her questions, never judged her... The person who smiled in a strange way when she cried… the only person who noticed her suddenly lost expression… the person who teased her for reading old chats on gmail… the person who took the unsaid responsibility of taking her wherever she had to go. He was slowly eclipsing her life and in a way that healed her from the past hurt and that gave her enough reason to go on from one day to another.
[But what did she mean to him? I know not reader and shall never know.]
But yes, the turn in the road that you are expecting, did come. The sweetness of friendship didn’t last long. A change came over their relationship in the form of awareness. She became aware of the sweeping touch of his hands on her cheek… aware of words spoken in all nonchalance… aware of his presence in every group, every place, every dream… aware of his scent that aroused something deep down in her…
She became jealous of his friends, jealous of his lady love, insecure about his friendship and eager for something more. She began to be upset for no reason, she cried when she was alone, she began to fight with him, ignore him and then return to him when her anger subsided. She did not understand her own self. No he was not The One… he was not someone she would marry… he was not the dream she had always dreamt for… he did not make her feel special in a way she had always wanted… most of all, she was not life’s first priority to him. Then what did she wish for? What did she want? Why was she attracted to him? Why did his scent, his proximity, make her weak in the knees [clichéd expression I know, but that’s what best describes the feeling.] why did she feel pleasure instead of pain when he demonstrated his strength playfully twisting her wrist? Why did she feel her body melt when he tickled her? And then she tickled him back in way that was more seductive than playful. She had never felt like this before.
That night, they went to a party together… everyone was drunk. She was, he was. She clung on to him all evening, giving a damn to the world and he held her all evening…[Whether to keep her from falling or because he wanted to hold her, again it is not for me to say..]Well... so she rested her head on his shoulders, hanging on to his arms, as he drove her back home. And in those moments she had wanted nothing more. Somehow the proximity just brought them together and he gently kissed her and she kissed him back, till everything else disappeared and the heat and passion engulfed them. "He was a great kisser", she thought. And with that she suddenly became aware that she was thinking… that it was not the kiss she had always dreamt off… the kiss that would sweep her off her feet and render her incapable of any thoughts… the perfect kiss of the perfect Man… what she called "The Rhett Butler Kiss"… And she knew he was not The One… But nevertheless it gave her a pleasure she felt never before and she did not want the moment to end. Neither did he, for they drove round and round in the vicinity of her home for an hour or more, hoping the journey never ended, hoping the destination never arrived.
She reached home a different person altogether… her lips quivered from what was her first kiss. She felt like those lips had a life of their own, different from her existence and she fell in love with them, caressing them like he had… she could feel his scent linger on her body, in her curls and as she undressed, she noticed that one of her earrings were missing.
They met the next day like how they met everyday in office.
[Did I mention, he worked in the same office as her?]
Well… life was just the same… like the night before never existed… Like they were just friends like always… The same, but for that twinkle in his eyes and the colour of her cheeks, when he slipped her missing earring in her hand without a word. Only that strayed earring remained a testimony that the night existed.
A month later, she changed jobs. The distance between them started growing… Initially, she was angry that he didn’t call her enough, didn’t meet her everyday… didn’t care for her as much… But then she gradually understood.
He was a season… a season that just came and passed by. They still meet sometimes, with common friends… The chemistry still exists when their eyes meet for a fraction of seconds, only neither of them wants to explore it any further.
The phone finally rang. It said… “Office calling”.
Her mind drifted… drifted to those times when everything was perfect. Almost… for she had not known or expected a greater perfection. He was not someone she would marry, she was not someone he could spend his life with. They were friends, best of friends. Both their love devoted elsewhere and let me add unrequited. He was her support system, the only shoulders she could fall back on in the unknown city. The only person who never asked her questions, never judged her... The person who smiled in a strange way when she cried… the only person who noticed her suddenly lost expression… the person who teased her for reading old chats on gmail… the person who took the unsaid responsibility of taking her wherever she had to go. He was slowly eclipsing her life and in a way that healed her from the past hurt and that gave her enough reason to go on from one day to another.
[But what did she mean to him? I know not reader and shall never know.]
But yes, the turn in the road that you are expecting, did come. The sweetness of friendship didn’t last long. A change came over their relationship in the form of awareness. She became aware of the sweeping touch of his hands on her cheek… aware of words spoken in all nonchalance… aware of his presence in every group, every place, every dream… aware of his scent that aroused something deep down in her…
She became jealous of his friends, jealous of his lady love, insecure about his friendship and eager for something more. She began to be upset for no reason, she cried when she was alone, she began to fight with him, ignore him and then return to him when her anger subsided. She did not understand her own self. No he was not The One… he was not someone she would marry… he was not the dream she had always dreamt for… he did not make her feel special in a way she had always wanted… most of all, she was not life’s first priority to him. Then what did she wish for? What did she want? Why was she attracted to him? Why did his scent, his proximity, make her weak in the knees [clichéd expression I know, but that’s what best describes the feeling.] why did she feel pleasure instead of pain when he demonstrated his strength playfully twisting her wrist? Why did she feel her body melt when he tickled her? And then she tickled him back in way that was more seductive than playful. She had never felt like this before.
That night, they went to a party together… everyone was drunk. She was, he was. She clung on to him all evening, giving a damn to the world and he held her all evening…[Whether to keep her from falling or because he wanted to hold her, again it is not for me to say..]Well... so she rested her head on his shoulders, hanging on to his arms, as he drove her back home. And in those moments she had wanted nothing more. Somehow the proximity just brought them together and he gently kissed her and she kissed him back, till everything else disappeared and the heat and passion engulfed them. "He was a great kisser", she thought. And with that she suddenly became aware that she was thinking… that it was not the kiss she had always dreamt off… the kiss that would sweep her off her feet and render her incapable of any thoughts… the perfect kiss of the perfect Man… what she called "The Rhett Butler Kiss"… And she knew he was not The One… But nevertheless it gave her a pleasure she felt never before and she did not want the moment to end. Neither did he, for they drove round and round in the vicinity of her home for an hour or more, hoping the journey never ended, hoping the destination never arrived.
She reached home a different person altogether… her lips quivered from what was her first kiss. She felt like those lips had a life of their own, different from her existence and she fell in love with them, caressing them like he had… she could feel his scent linger on her body, in her curls and as she undressed, she noticed that one of her earrings were missing.
They met the next day like how they met everyday in office.
[Did I mention, he worked in the same office as her?]
Well… life was just the same… like the night before never existed… Like they were just friends like always… The same, but for that twinkle in his eyes and the colour of her cheeks, when he slipped her missing earring in her hand without a word. Only that strayed earring remained a testimony that the night existed.
A month later, she changed jobs. The distance between them started growing… Initially, she was angry that he didn’t call her enough, didn’t meet her everyday… didn’t care for her as much… But then she gradually understood.
He was a season… a season that just came and passed by. They still meet sometimes, with common friends… The chemistry still exists when their eyes meet for a fraction of seconds, only neither of them wants to explore it any further.
The phone finally rang. It said… “Office calling”.
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