Love at first touch…

“Would you believe in a love at first sight?
Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time.”

-Beatles

One thing always leads to another. Sparks lead to a roaring fire. Playfulness and spontaneity leads to commitment and responsibility. Little did I know that I would bring a stranger home. It was an instant connection. The second I touched him, he snuggled up to me struggling to find some warmth in my jacket and arms. I pulled him close and hugged him as hard as I could. All that has ever been said about falling in love is so true. I still cant believe I made a home for him at home. The attachment was instant and it just grew deeper. He had these soulful eyes that just make u melt into a puddle of love and affection and care and all that is fundamentally human. When I saw everyone else around taking to him immediately I realized that there are just few things that unite good and positive human streaks so strongly, genuinely and deeply. Everyone’s approval and desire that he stay permanently only aggravated my love. He really was my own and I loved him to bits. To date he remains the only boy who has been wholeheartedly accepted and approved by family and friends alike. I was absolutely elated to have met him. It felt right. It felt like it was meant to be. It felt mine. It felt for keeps.

I am still in disbelief that he’s gone missing.

Where ever you are “tiny” little lost soul stirring sweet puppy of mine, I hope and pray you are safe. I wish for you a home that you love and trust and a family who takes care of you immensely as you grow up. Also, you are most welcome to wander back. You know where I stay. I miss you. I really do. Every time I cross my drive way I  hope you will appear out of nowhere and run to me and whimper softly signaling me to pick you up into my arms. I sit alone in my backyard hoping its just a vanishing act and you will come back for our moonlit walks and escapades. My heart races every time I turn on the ignition of my car (since it’s the only sound/sight you hate) coz I am still hoping you will stubbornly park yourself in front of it till I did not get out to get you, Everyone’s been imagining that they hear/see you and I go on a treasure hunt whenever I discover a new clue, I instinctively put out your bowl where it usually was should you get hungry. I am leaving all familiar signs for you to figure out a trail back.

Puppy come here.

P.S. “You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you a look that says, ‘My god, you’re right! I never would’ve thought of that!” Dave Barry

P.P.S. No one makes more effective puppy faces than puppies 😦

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Anchored!

Of the few people who know me well, few of them have often in jest and sometimes in all seriousness asked me why I am not a real vagabond or nomad. I always figured it sounded like a good life. Not coz it looks good from afar but the little that i’ve tried it, convinces me it gives you unbridled freedom. The randomness in thought and action, the need to fulfill whatever you desire, the satisfaction in getting in and out of trouble, the attraction to things new and interesting, the no strings attached moments with strangers, the keeping people at a safe distance and yet having all the fun, etc.

But then I knew it was like any other high, it wouldn’t be sustainable. The reason there is society and the satisfaction in being a part of it just one in my head. ATTACHMENT. To people, to relationships, to some things, places, associations, sanity, ambitions, aspirations, memories. It makes life as surreal as being a detached vagabonding the face of earth. It is when you realize that the strings that bind you are actually things that are yours. It is the rest which is make belief. That chase which is hallucinating in effect. That mystery and risk that sends the adrenaline rush. The calm and peace of being with nature days on end. All of it is just seductive lies. And after you’ve been there and done that, it hits you new adventure and wandering and wander lusting are not the real high and overwhelming rush.

Rainmaker revisits!

Here comes the rain again

 

I look up and the sky is still dry..

Those rain clouds are such a lie..

Drifting by unapologetic and careless..

I longingly stared angry and jealous..

 

Little did I know it was the calm before the storm..

Those tranquil clouds transformed into a thunder bearing form..

Untimely, unpunctual, unseasonal, unruly, unexpected..

And am left rewarded, accepted, tested, grudged and affected..

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore..

“Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me,

sway with ease

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me”

Dancing is your whole body doing the talking for you. It’s honest expression.It’s seductive lies. Its holding on. It’s letting go.  It’s contained excitement. It’s unleashed madness. It’s tipsy toes. It’s trained movement. It’s the opening act. It’s the climax. It’s ecstasy. It’s exhaustion. It’s careless and wild. It’s controlled and choreographed. It’s skipping beats. It’s being in sync.  It’s compatibility. It’s differences. It’s soulful. It’s sinful. It’s smooth talking. It’s intimacy sharing. It’s bashful. It’s shameless. It’s giving in. It’s being cold. It’s private. It’s public. It’s unconditional. It’s movement. It’s music. It’s beats. It’s rhythm. It’s responding. It’s taking control. It’s conspicuous. It’s invisible. It’s traveling. It’s still. It’s saying too much. Its Silence. Its SWAYING!

P.S. “When we sway I go weak”

If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler?

Starry nights.... hmmmm and Moonlight..

If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler?

A traveler what? A traveler anything! He is the protagonist. Where? Anywhere. What does he do? He doesn’t know. Why? He did not write the script.

I saw the book cover again and with it’s title screaming out. Tossed me into a whirlwind of so many of my own winter nights. The people in it. The things we did. The moments we shared. The places we discovered. The drunken alibis. The ourselves we met. The adventures we encountered. The tipsy moonlight. The child like laughter. The mature tears. The deep conversations. The senseless banters. The reassurance in just the look of an eye. The stoned stars. The philosophical/spiritual know it all beings. The hippie like carelessness. The empty gas tanks of our cars. The roads traveled by our shoes. The music discovered by romantics. The meaning acknowledged by lovers. The affection of friends. The smiles that tickled. The dances that welded souls. The silences that captured sagas of stories untold. The warmth of artistic fingers. The nows lived forgetting the then. The racing of wild hearts. The meditation of soulful bliss. The magic that never faded. The spells that were broken. The being. The living. The completeness. The missing piece of the puzzle. The songs that trespassed. The scar that stirred the soul.  The knowing. The mysteries.

If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler?

If on a Winter’s night a traveler travels with a co traveler who feels right.. Then he experiences adrenaline and stillness together.

P.s. : “Do you believe that every story must have a beginning and an end?  Italo Calvino (from his book- If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler?)

I, oh, I’m still ALIVE!

Pearl Jam

For some strange reason listening to this song made me realize that I indeed am lucky to be alive. I have my reasons to believe someone’s got my back. I have been able to live carelessly and this is often mistaken as living freely coz I feel something/someone is looking out for me. I don’t know when but a long time ago I got this reassurance that I could indulge in trial and error and come out shaken not stirred. Scarred not scrapped. I have had a lot of close shaves, seemingly miraculous escapes. From almost drowning in a high tide, to just about falling off a cliff into a valley on a bike, to being threatened by an armed person in a desolate subway, to being in a car that rolled over on a highway, to almost cycling off to the edge leading to a ditch which would spell disaster, to being on a flight in trouble due to a sudden snow storm, to several other such almost fatal accidents. I won’t even attempt to recollect all the everyday innovative, not so dangerous (still don’t try it at home) ones coz there are just too many. From tumbling over sleeping street dogs and falling like a circus clown, to running into a herd of angry screeching owls while trying to figure out what that white object in a dark terrace were, to chipping my tooth trying to sneak in and bouncing down a staircase, to understanding the weird way why must one not hitch a ride in a foreign country.. Errr this would take all day! Lets just say I have a history of what is perceived as my goof ups and mad even stupid incidents. Some have gone as far as stating that my life is charmed.

Oh! and am fairly certain I was fated to meet all the people I’ve met in life. Those were designed to happen by accident or not.

I have been given a lot of names like hurricane, tipsy toes, butter fingers, accident zone, clumsy oaf etc. I guess there must be a method to this madness. There must be a reason why I am wired like that. There must be an answer for all those who have asked me why I wear my heart on my sleeve! This pattern has repeated itself once too often for it to be a sheer “accident”.

“You’re still alive, she said

Oh, and do I deserve to be?

Is that the question?”

I am here to startle like thunder clouds. To leave bold footprints. To make some adventurous co travelers come out of their closet. To hear more songs and learn new dance moves. To see the wonders of creation from its most angelically amazing to its  most devilishly dangerous forms. To star in stories. Maybe someday to write them too. Maybe…

P.S. “Hey I, BUT, I’m still alive”

P.P.S. It would be so cliched if I used Robert Frost’s “I have miles to go before I sleep” line here no?

You think you know!

You say you love nothing more than simplicity

Yet I see you take to confusion and complexity

The high highs and the low lows

Heartwarming words coupled with harsh blows

 

Everything thats good need not have a catch

We are on the same side if this is a match

Somethings just are good and so good is really rare

Why must you treat something so charmed without a care

 

When years go by and you look back at this

Something tells me you will reminisce the bliss

Nostalgia will take you to some special places

Someday you will search for one face in all those faces