Missing Pieces

(©2009 =karen5258 Source - http://karen5258.deviantart.com/art/Some-pieces-are-missing-109928800. Thanks!)

These days there are dreams. With you and without you. With you, it is mostly hazy. It is like those dreams are made of a thousand pieces. Earlier when I used to wake up, even if you were not with me, even if it took some time, I'd wake up all at once. Now I am afraid of missing pieces. Pieces of me that don't wake up with me. Give my dreams back to me. Or at least the parts you whisk away. I am afraid of those missing pieces. What if they come back to haunt me ? In a different time.

No matter how much you say you are for me, I am never convinced of it. Am I some idealization of a man you wanted to find but you never could ? Are you sure of what you are doing ? I am afraid. I am afraid of all these missing pieces - of myself, of answers, of you, of the future we dreamed together.

Woman. Freedom.

(Thanks - http://ptitecocci.deviantart.com/art/Be-a-woman-29125588)

" I am coming over for the evening"

"No. Don't get ideas. I will leave by 9 ..... or if you are charming enough today, will extend by another half an hour."

"Arey, why should I ? I am not your wife. Stop treating me that way"

"Ok, it is getting late. Will call you before I leave. Pick up my call in the first ring"

Trrrrrrngggggggggg.

"Not bad old man. You have fast fingers"

"Chi. Porikki. I should seriously think of cancelling the meeting"

"Will wait near the Park. Come before I get impatient and call you again"

"Hey I need to tell you something. Go home fast na"

"Oh come on.... For God's sake. I will never fall in love with you. I don't believe in that. It is about something else."

"Should we not buy some wine or something ? I am sure you have candles at home."

"What ? No romance crap. Was just being careful in case of a power cut. I can't stay in the dark with you. You dork."

"Scrambled eggs. Some rotis and butter chicken. This is what I am in a mood to make. Help me out in making it. Don't fool around behind me smelling my sweaty neck and twidding with my ears. Do some useful work. You lazy bum."

"Play some George Gershwin na. And see if those ice cubes are ready. Don't come with an empty tray and stand before me."

"Hello .... yeah ... oh no ... I am with him. Will talk later, dear. Yes he is fine .... sure ... bye"

"Hmmm. Why does she bother about you. .... Stupid girl"

"Envious ...my foot. Just that I don't like some random girl asking about you."

"Can we lower those shades ? And keep the AC at 23."

"Yes yes. Good that you reminded me. Will tell you when we sit to dine"

"This wine is so smooth ya. Not like that shit you drink every other Friday."

"Oh gawd .... let me rephrase it - not like that urine that you drink every other Friday. Ha ha ha"

"Is that 'Someone to Watch over Me' playing ? Ah ..... if there is something I can spend my fortune on, it will be wine and music"

"Yes. Yes. It was something important. Don't ask me. Will tell you when I am in flow."

"No ..... I think it is tight. Have put on weight.... Wait, don't tear it, you wild tiger. I will remove it myself"

"Mm ... Well. I am bored of this sequence. You are becoming predictable"

"Ha ..... I know where you start and where you end. And the 2 or 3 different paths you take. Unimaginative dork."

"Chi ... I love you."

"Did I ? Must be the wine. I take back my words. I don't love you."

"I just cut my nails yesterday ya. Cannot claw you like that. You want some teeth magic ?"

"Yes. Yes. It was an important one. Are you done ?"

"No. I had fun. You want more ?"

"Yes. Yes. Will tell you now."

" I am thinking of getting married"

"Come on, not you. Not in this lifetime. You are not charming enough"

"Well. I am thinking. Should post a profile in some Matrimonial site soon."

"Ultra milds ? Give me a drag na............ This is bliss"

"Its already 2.30. Let me get some sleep. Have a meeting at 10."

"Pass me that ..... Should get a bigger size na. It is getting tighter. Not able to hook it easily"

"Sleep, dear."

நி vs நீ

சில ராகங்களில் இல்லாமல் போகலாம் - ‘நி‘,
என் வாழ்க்கையின் ராகமே - ‘நீ‘ !!!

Love - by the hour

Well,
If each hour had a colour to it,
I would love you the most when it is black ....
An almost animal love.
For, when it is black that you and me disappear to become "we"

Colour, Taste, You

(Pic - Thanks http://evilglamour.deviantart.com/art/Hands-Of-A-Woman-37591299)

It used to be a wonderful time. Sitting on the staircase and just talking of things near and far, real and imaginary, profound and mundane, you and me. You always used to sit a step or two above. I like it when you wish to feel superior. I like it when you take complete control of me. Only when I lose myself completely in you, do I realise myself. Okay it doesn't sound convincing in words, right ? I hear you say 'yes'.

You know the games I played with you that day? Let me tell you. I am obsessed with your palms. Remember all that I scribbled on it? Some with a pen and most with my fingers. With the pen - I almost constantly feel jittery of running out of ink. But you have that beautiful, black mole on your finger. I wish I could draw colour from it -the colour black. But you say the pen tip is hard on you. 'Ouch'. Was that a one-word symphony from you? Then you say, 'be gentle to me'. Naughty. I wait for you to throw that pen aside and you do just that, but in a different way. You twiddle with my fingers. Ah! I am a tube light. It glows over my head only after minutes, that I should use my fingers instead of the pen. But you see, fingers present a great opportunity for me. I can scribble all that I want to say. So I scribble what I don't like about you. You are not going to see/sense it anyway. You are a sweet fool. I scribble how I don't like your powdered neck. ‘I don't like your powdered neck', I write on your palms with my ring finger. What did you think? You think I scribbled how sweet you are? Nah. Lies are best told orally. (I can coat it with a sugary tone, you see.) Well, I want to inhale your natural smell - the smell of your sweat. I love the way you smell after you come out of the hot kitchen. That is your fragrance. It gives me a high. Not some powder smell. I don't want to see powder on your face or neck. No.

You are soon bored of all these finger games. You dishevel my hair and get up to go. I let you go. 'Won't you pull me back when I go away', you ask tauntingly. I pull you, by your fingers, closer. I kiss them - the tips. I kiss the mole on your finger. You leave. And you take me away with you while I stand there still........Did I tell you - my lips still hold your colour. And now I know, that colours have a taste.

Reunion Talks

In the midst of all the yada, yada, yada ....... He and She spill the essence of living together.

(From the movie "Before Sunset")

Rainy Day Memories

(Pic - Thanks, http://nyra615.deviantart.com/art/Rainy-Evening-97476545)

The thing is - you should know what to do when it rains. The other day evening, it was getting chillier and darker so early. With rain in a great mood to pour, I unfurled this old, black umbrella of mine and started my walk. Not that I am old and I go for evening walks, but just that I need to get back to home from office in time for my hot cup of coffee (which I so religiously prepare). Rain and coffee go so well together. And yeah, I need to pick up dried clothes from the terrace lest they get drenched in rain again and I am left with no underwear for the coming day. A bachelor with no extra underwears is what I am. Well, this umbrella is not without a story of its own. It has so many pores that sometimes I feel a mini night sky has ascended on me with little stars on it. And those pores let rain drops fall-in on and off. I need to hurry up. I cannot afford to bask in the little moments of rain drops sensuously dripping down my hair into my neck, maneuvering the contours of my body before being sucked up by my banian. Two things are waiting for me - my coffee and my underwear. Hurry! 'Hey', I hear someone call me. This, I choose to ignore for some reason I cannot immediately tell you and neither do I know for sure. But I guess it has to be because it is the voice of a girl. Do rains make girls' voice more shrill or deep? I think. 'Hey. Excuse me. Can I come with you till the railway crossing?' I turn around to see if I can accommodate the voice-owner inside my rickety, old umbrella. Not that I am fat or something, but I secretly wish that my offer to help does not end up as a 'Camel nose in a tent' story. There she is - running all the way to enter her haven. I never knew when I gave a nod for her to join me. She wore a perfume which I found to be particularly strong. I have this little allergy towards strong smells. Now, let that aside....... She was reticent about opening a talk, while my umbrella played naughty games knowing I would get irritated by them. It lifted itself even on the slightest breeze, was never stable and of course need I say about the pores? Well, the girl realized it sooner than I thought. We were both getting wet by the soaring rain and the umbrella was of no big use. There was no shelter to stop over nor were there other means to escape getting wet. Was there no Auto in sight? No buses plying on the road? No. No. They are all conveniently forgotten when both of us want some thrill out of this rainy evening. ‘I take a left at the railway gate’; I try to strike up some warmth. 'I take a right there', she remains cold oblivious to the warmth I try to ooze. 'Would it take long for you to make a coffee for me? I feel I need something hot to drink', I come straight to the point. Wasting time is certainly not a good idea here. 'I don't have coffee at home. But I make good tea. Come over. Rain is not going to let up anytime soon. My house is just near the railway gate', she says with some sudden springing of warmth inside her. Cosmic conspiracy. How come her house is near the railway gate and she invites me over there, that too when it rains and we are all so wet? So many things falling into place so soon. Fishy. I think. In no time we are before her house. She lets me in and I close the umbrella, leaving it at the doorsteps. She hands me a towel before I even express my intent to stay wet. I start to dry my hair when she pulls close and presents her back to me saying, 'hey can you please dry my hair' ? She lets her hair loose and arches back a bit so that I can dry her hair. Now I am reminded of the hard pinches I used to get in school days. I yearn for one of those pinches to check whether all is real or this is some cheap, erotic dream. Well, how does it matter? Maybe it is dream or maybe it is for real. Would I behave differently if it was a dream? No. I would behave more wildly. What if it was real? Now I am stuck. I ask her if it is all real. 'Yes. Wake up, man. Rainy days come and you always get dreams of our first meeting. Now, wake up and get ready. It is raining outside and you are getting late for office.' I wake up with a smile. I think of what had happened on that rainy evening, years back. But more important things await me now. I need to drink my morning coffee (which she religiously prepares for me) and before all that, I need to check if my underwear is still on the terrace getting wet or she has picked it up before it started raining. I take my old umbrella and run upstairs. The thing is - you should know what to do when it rains.

Beginning or End

(Thanks - http://goldstyles.deviantart.com/)

Why would I tell her that it can end any moment ? And how should I tell her ? Do I just call up and say - " It is over, honey. Goodbye. Take care". Or should I prepare a long farewell speech ? With liberal anecdotes from the past - those nights we laughed together for nothing or those mornings we woke up together to wish 'Good morning' and sleep again. Should it be short and instant, like a cyanide or should it be long drawn like the Act on the Cross ? I am not sure. I am not even sure if it should end or if it should chug along. Flowers do part from the plant after they bloom. Dont they ? Two things - they lose life after they part or they wither on the plant if left for long. What do we do - part and lose each other or stay-in and wither ?

I think this is the beginning of a beautiful chapter.