Yes, you are right when you said that I am desperate. I am desperate to see you and meet you in the real world in flesh and blood. It has been long since we met but you often come in dreams. Someone jokes with me saying that why do I have pie eyes always. Its because you come everynight in the dream and when you are around, there is no sleep. I am spending countless hours and nights in thinking about you and assuming you to be a miracle in my life.
Months before I had thought life had gone useless for me. There was no ambition left for me to achieve in life and months down the line, you are like everyday's sunrays and embrace every moment of life with warmth of love and care. Miles apart wherever you are, you are like a distant start that attracts me and mesmerizes me so much that I forget my existence. This much of workload, responsibility, duties and flying so frequently to parts of the world just come to a stand still.
Everytime I travel somewhere, i wish to have some gift for you, but I dont know how you will take it, whether you will like these gifts. My love and emotions will come as tiny particles on each of these gifts and will speak of my heart. Dont take any sadistic pleasure of saying that you will not meet me, If you dont come to see me, dont come on my dreams and dont talk to me, I dont know how life will be and how will it affect me as a persona. Please dont do this. I killed the emotional man within me sometime back (1990 onwards) and now by coming of yours, I think the same man is taking a turn and starting to realize how one can live for someone. Life went on its owncourse and gave its own returns, but life was not life; there was no poetry; there was no dream; there was no 'pagal pana' in that living. I compare my life with life of 1987 and I could see a deadman walking. By coming back you have put life to the deadman and by making me to love you, your thoughts and feelings, you have taught me to live life again in full king size.
Tuma bhala paaibare jadi thae
mora marana,
taha bi manjur,
tumaku paaibara ichhare jadi thae
nijaku talitalaanta karibara
taha bi hau hazoor.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
Over The Years, I Love You
I love the way you make me laugh
I love the way you make me cry
Tears of joy stream from my eyes
As I hear your voice, a loving surprise.
I love you when you're angry
I love you when you're sad
I love you when you're glad
When you tell me of the day you had
I love you truly
I love you deeply
Ever since the day
I let you meet me
I missed you when you left
I miss you now more than ever
Making a mistake that I regret
Hoping that you are a forgiver
Without you, my life is strife
But now I ask for a second chance
Be with me and start a life
Together forever, an eternal dance
I wait for you as the days go by
My love is growing inch by inch
I cannot wait to see you again
But I wait for you, and your warm kiss
I love you
On this New Year Day
I wish to pen down what I am thinking and feeling about her in this New Year day. Today is a New Year day for me because I am back to work and reached Chennai just now. I was thinking about her in last couple of days. I was thinking aloud because I had time to think and feel about her in these wee hours of 2008.
When I ask a question about my first impression about her when I met her some sixteen years before, I did get some answer. Was the first meeting a great feeling? I think the answer is yes. Now also many times, she keeps her long hairs open, don’t know why? First time when I met her in a small dingy library room, she was in a yellow dress and her long hairs falling over the whole face. I asked someone about her name and someone answered with the name. She looked up and that look was mesmerizing for me. Her eyes were like waters of a clean village pond, full of purity and innocence. She smiled and walked away with her friend. Her friend was also close to me but ultimately fell into a relationship with one of my younger colleague. Then I met her in formal occasions many times and subsequent to one year or so, met her boyfriend also. Alas, if she could have been my girlfriend at that point of time. We were close in our professional roles and then one day she was gone forever to some unknown world. With her also went those colourful dresses, long hair playing with her face and also the face with heavy lipstick use. Did she ever go out of mind? I don’t think so. She came in between a transient period for me. I was just coming out of a relationship and was confused about life. I was in no mood to think and work in the directions that my heart was showing me. I was lost with lots of issues of life and thought of getting married. Ultimately to get over these thought cycles and to plan the life I got married or should I say I was made to marry and settle down.
Life ran its own course with ‘get, set and go’ and as life progressed the distance between both of us increased. Has he ever fed from my memory? I think the answer is ‘no’. You may seek the reason but I don’t have the reason except her name. If you see my gamut of poetry at my teen, most of them are about rain, monsoon and moon. It must be the level of unspent romanticism within me that guided me for the same mood during college days. I think other than these three imageries I have used Kabita Mishra, a dog, kabuliwala as metaphors in my poetry and stories, but monsoon was the strongest metaphor that I have used in my creative pursuit.
May be it was destined that we will come full circle after so many years by treading so many different paths and finally merge with each other and then plan that, “chalo, life has brought us so far with our own doses of pain, fear and loss and now we will live for each other” when we will go out of this world, at least I will dies a satisfactory death that there was a life for which I lived so many years and loved her unintentionally. Every time I think about her, it reminds me of now how many years are left in life for seeing each other and living for each other, but how many years of life I have wasted just waiting for her. I wish I could live back those years with her.
I wish she reads these pages and feels the same was as I feel. I wish she will give me some days of her life where she will live only for me, with me for whole of twenty four hours. I wish I could touch her, feel her presence around me and hold her hard to myself; I wish I could have lived in her heart forever as she is living within me for all these years and would live till I die and miss forever. I wish I could hold her face close to me; wish I could cover my face with her long hairs, wish she would murmur about this intensity through my years and wish her smell would make me mad like the deer in the forest who runs to find out the source of the smell which comes from within. I wish her to read my blog and think and feel the way I feel about her.
When I ask a question about my first impression about her when I met her some sixteen years before, I did get some answer. Was the first meeting a great feeling? I think the answer is yes. Now also many times, she keeps her long hairs open, don’t know why? First time when I met her in a small dingy library room, she was in a yellow dress and her long hairs falling over the whole face. I asked someone about her name and someone answered with the name. She looked up and that look was mesmerizing for me. Her eyes were like waters of a clean village pond, full of purity and innocence. She smiled and walked away with her friend. Her friend was also close to me but ultimately fell into a relationship with one of my younger colleague. Then I met her in formal occasions many times and subsequent to one year or so, met her boyfriend also. Alas, if she could have been my girlfriend at that point of time. We were close in our professional roles and then one day she was gone forever to some unknown world. With her also went those colourful dresses, long hair playing with her face and also the face with heavy lipstick use. Did she ever go out of mind? I don’t think so. She came in between a transient period for me. I was just coming out of a relationship and was confused about life. I was in no mood to think and work in the directions that my heart was showing me. I was lost with lots of issues of life and thought of getting married. Ultimately to get over these thought cycles and to plan the life I got married or should I say I was made to marry and settle down.
Life ran its own course with ‘get, set and go’ and as life progressed the distance between both of us increased. Has he ever fed from my memory? I think the answer is ‘no’. You may seek the reason but I don’t have the reason except her name. If you see my gamut of poetry at my teen, most of them are about rain, monsoon and moon. It must be the level of unspent romanticism within me that guided me for the same mood during college days. I think other than these three imageries I have used Kabita Mishra, a dog, kabuliwala as metaphors in my poetry and stories, but monsoon was the strongest metaphor that I have used in my creative pursuit.
May be it was destined that we will come full circle after so many years by treading so many different paths and finally merge with each other and then plan that, “chalo, life has brought us so far with our own doses of pain, fear and loss and now we will live for each other” when we will go out of this world, at least I will dies a satisfactory death that there was a life for which I lived so many years and loved her unintentionally. Every time I think about her, it reminds me of now how many years are left in life for seeing each other and living for each other, but how many years of life I have wasted just waiting for her. I wish I could live back those years with her.
I wish she reads these pages and feels the same was as I feel. I wish she will give me some days of her life where she will live only for me, with me for whole of twenty four hours. I wish I could touch her, feel her presence around me and hold her hard to myself; I wish I could have lived in her heart forever as she is living within me for all these years and would live till I die and miss forever. I wish I could hold her face close to me; wish I could cover my face with her long hairs, wish she would murmur about this intensity through my years and wish her smell would make me mad like the deer in the forest who runs to find out the source of the smell which comes from within. I wish her to read my blog and think and feel the way I feel about her.
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