That’s when the heartbeats race
That’s when a blush warms your cheeks
That’s when shivers flow down your back
That’s when your fingers tremble
You swallow and swallow hard
You close your eyes
Your heart comes to a standstill
Your soul sings a song to music unwritten
It’s the anticipation
It’s the breaths that you share
It’s the gentle fluttering of your eyes
It’s the best part of your first kiss
Today, she decided to try on the mauve cotton suit. It complemented her frame beautifully and brought out the depth of her eyes. Innocently, she went about her way when alas, the seams ripped open. Just like the other time, when her black denim jacket unraveling at the shoulders.
Her friend had been facing a similar problem with her clothes. One day it was the yellow chiffon dress that tore down her back while some days later, it was the blue silk skirt that frayed all around the hem. It seemed that the tacks and safety pins held only for sometime until the clothes eventually fell apart, worse than ever.
No matter how many times they tried to repair their garments, change their tailors, use assorted fabrics or try out different styles, they never really held together. It was a frustrating time. It was a bitter time. It was a puzzling time.
Only a close examination made them realize that the material of their clothes had been of poor quality, handled with little care and mended without a thought. Of course, their stitching was not going to hold for long when the material itself was falling to pieces.
Just like the law can only do so much. Unless the mindset changes, no number of death penalties and rulings can make an impact on the horrifying rape and molestation cases taking place in the country. In fact, I’ll go to the extent of saying that law is just an easy way out. It is WRONG as a solution. Fear of death should not be the check-post for a criminal! The law may work for two minutes, but unless we examine and address the fabric of society’s perceptions, I do not really see an end to the number of ‘Nirbhayas’ the nation is producing.
Hues of pinks dusted the branches,
As the dusk melted into a moonless night,
Tiny buds unfurled their blossoms,
As the soil shimmered under the starlight
Moonshine sprinkled on the blooms,
As the enchantment weaved in flight.
The earth spun on its edge in joy,
As the apple blossoms glowed bright.
Like pearls, they blushed and twinkled,
As they demured under a touch so slight.
The sun shined brighter by the day
As honeyed petals glided featherlight.
Like moondrops on a carpet of green,
They never failed to arouse delight.
I lost track of the number of apple blossoms I saw during my Kashmir trip, each more enchanting than the next. An ode to the happiness!
I trace the perimeter of the blossom. The petals are wrapped lovingly together as if conducted to a waltz. The partners have frozen in time, forever entangled in their embrace. The sunlight on the morning dew sparkles as chandeliers of their universal ball.
I follow the trails left by the droplet of ink through the crystal goblet of water. How it floats and sways, leaving behind a pattern I liken to a music note that hasn’t been heard. It cuts through the dense path with a calm assurance of its beauty and lazy in its power.
I grasped for the desert sands flowing down the dune with my bare hand. There is a smooth ripple to their fall, like the mouth of a waterfall breaking and surrendering to gravity. There is a rush to break the unwrinkled carpets of sands – a rebel without a cause, it finds respite at the curved bottom.
I focus on the edge of the damp canvas touched by the tip of the paintbrush. From a singular point, the colour spreads like a blossoming flower springing free from the locks of the bud. Even inanimate, it follows the random uniformity otherwise impossible to replicate.
I blow at faerie dust and watch the particles pirouette in the lonely ray of the afternoon light before landing on the polished wood. The gold and amethyst cloud forms patterns that reflect the midnight sky with starlight twinkling solemnly of promises being made across the world.
￼Even when you break patterns, it leads to an inconsistency so perfect that it becomes a part of the perfection.
The culmination came and went by. The dust has settled and suddenly time is a friend. A flaky friend, perhaps but at least not the antagonist in the present state of life.
I am officially an educated unemployed. It hasn’t really sunk in as I immediately took off on a vacation after my last day at work but now as Wednesday afternoon creeps by, I realize I have nothing on my hands except perhaps trace the shades of my tan and the increased pounds around my waist.
I did not take well to quitting my job. I was obsessed in wrapping up pending tasks and deliverables and would even dream about them. Even during the vacation, I was dreaming about the work scheduled – because the thing is – I know what is the work scheduled for the rest of the year. But then I knew I had to take a break! Last few months have been a miserable time and to keep my sanity I had to quit earlier than I was supposed to. The sense of ownership is taking its time in leaving me but I am getting there.
Unlimited time is a gift I need to utilize because the truth is – time is running out. I have less than 45 days to put my life in cardboard boxes before time makes its next play. Last year, D and I decided to take a major step ahead and now that is materializing. I have spoken to a couple of people on the blog about it – I just hope our decision doesn’t backfire. It’s a risk – but then, the payoffs are worth it!