Finding Flirting 101

That makes two of us!
That’s my line!

C: He was asking for your number. I’ll give him?

Me: Who? What number?

C: The guy you were ignoring for your jalapeno cheese balls….

Me: Oh him!! 😐

A typical scene from my life! I have had approximately 13.5 conversations (I abandoned one half-way; my Bailey’s shot had arrived) that fall into this pattern. After long hours of pondering, I have narrowed down the top reasons why I never know when a guy flirts with me –

  1. Food
  2. Dog (generally a lab)
  3. Food
  4. Music
  5. Sheer Dumbness/Ignorance
  6. Food

I am NOT joking. I am completely clueless at zooming in if a guy is genuinely being nice or actually flirting – especially with yummy cheesy food around. Yes, I am a woman with priorities sorted out really well!

I see friends fall for people in a matter of days. Or hours. They hop, skip and jump from one “relationship” to another in a matter of weeks. They decide that it clicks and off they ride into the sunset – or the nearest coffee shop. It is just their scene, you know! And then you have me, who takes months if not years to realize that someone was into me – let alone even the possibility of a relationship. At parties, I see couples everywhere and wonder where was I when they were collecting “getting together” skills!

I checked and double checked myself. Yeah, I am fine. I have those moments of insane attraction – so clearly nothing wrong in the biology department. I am pretty by most standards. And I am not a total retard. The tiniest of problems lies in missing the skill of subtly deducing that the guy talking about trying out that new place might just be asking me for a date. Apparently it is not rocket science! Generally, it is shoved into my face by a not-so-sympathetic friend who doesn’t even hide rolling her eyes. Once, someone actually deigned to share a few flirting templates for my understanding.

Yeah, woe is me.

So anyway, a friend was telling me about this girl he met sometime back and they hit off pretty well (really, where does all this happen???). They are now on a perpetual flirt mode overflowing with innuendos. I casually asked, “So, what next?” No clear answer there. A lot about having someone and not necessarily having someone. I am guessing that the idea of being in a relationship is often more enticing than the person you are with! Which is fine, all God’s children… I am not judging.

But again, my really confused unexposed mind questions, how do you fall out of this habit or how do you know that this time it is different? That your generic flirting scene has dug deeper feelings for someone. I mean, people fall in love and get together all the time right. For life! How do they know? How is that love different from… err regular love?

‘You just know’ is what I get, which hopefully I will understand one fine morning.

Until then, I am calling up some academy to register for Flirting 101 – they got a prize candidate here!


The perfect prompt over at Stream of Consciousness Saturday hosted by Linda: “scene/seen” When the dam bursts inside my head when faced with, “What’s your scene with him?” – this is what happens!

The First Step Out

won

All that remains is an exhausted sigh,

The fight trickling out of the heart,

Silent, invisible and intangible

The only thing left now is to depart.

.

There is no last leaf to hold on to,

No splashes of paint on the dying tree,

The dry walkway is calling out an invite

And birds singing songs of being free.

.

The first step is always the hardest,

And brings back lost dreams, all hazy

But the first glance into the open world

Makes the next steps miraculously easy.

.

Like ripping off a stubborn band-aid,

The sting sears and scorches in deep,

But the winds cool and renew senses

To joyfully escape the arrested sleep.


The end of a year, the end of a relationship, the end of a life, the end of an illusion. The first step out is always the hardest and perhaps, also the greatest. Just some musings on that first step and to find the courage to take it.

Written for mindlovemisery’s menagerie prompt, “Won”

Also, heading over to Open Link Night hosted by Gabriella at dVerse.

A Sense called Touch

hug

The sense of touch is a powerful and elemental medium of expression! Look at the array of emotions – a soothing hand, a supporting shoulder, a passionate embrace, a motivating clap. More effective than the spoken word.

My parents always made it a point to communicate with me and my sister through both words and touch… However tired he may be, Dad would always stroke our heads while we slept; Mom would always hug us goodbye, her familiar scent as comforting as her patting hands.

But I never really became touchy-feely. I was comfortable hugging only my immediate family and best friend. At college, everyone hugged and snuggled while I just hovered exchanging wary glances with anyone who came too close for comfort. I gave in at times, allowing myself to be hugged and be used as an arm rest. Even in my so-called relationships, physical intimacy was never something I actively craved. Two years in a dorm and it never crossed my mind that I can use this freedom to experiment. I was fine lounging in my room with my big fluffy pillow. And no, I wasn’t a tease maintaining a ‘you can look but not touch’ image.

Ironically, “huggable” and “cuddly” are adjectives commonly used to describe me. I often receive texts or calls from friends saying “I feel like a hug and you are the first person I thought of” (They were not hitting on me!) … I am at a loss! Why don’t I get such feelings? Am I a cold blooded? Is this normal?

And then…

Staying alone without family or roommates now makes me crave hugs and holds but has left me without a source! (My friends here say I give a “touch-me-not” vibe, hence they hesitate sometimes) So what happens is, I often go days if not weeks without ANY physical contact. Maybe an occasional bump in the bus, or a brush while walking. Even when I am ill or down, I take care of myself without even a pat – and we all know how important pats are! It got so bad earlier this year that I practically molested this friend… not very pretty! Just last week, I counted 12 days before I touched any other person. Fine, I got many hugs and kisses on my birthday (November 22) but then back to “No Touch Pavilion”

Basically, I went from a “Don’t Touch Me!” to “Hold Me!” Even then, only a handful of people are allowed to get close and I am really waiting for them to get back in town. So till then I will be waiting here, hugging myself!

Or you can give me a hug. I won’t eat you.

*Awkwardly ending this post*

Badge: Doobster @ Mindful Digressions
Badge: Doobster @ Mindful Digressions

Written for Stream of Consciousness Saturday. The prompt was ‘sense/scents/cents/sent’ part of which fits perfectly with my mood these days.

So, spill the beans! Have you ever craved just to feel someone close to you? Or am I going mad?

Image Source

Awaiting Serendipity

aware

Our eyes found each other in the bustling crowd.

They met. They held. They connected.

A spark glittered out of nowhere.

A flicker of anticipation.

A magnetic energy.

An awareness like no other.

The moment passed in a blink,

So did a few months and a few weeks.

The memory vaporized.

Destiny played her mischievous hand, her chortling gleeful.

An unexpected meeting.

A foreseen rekindling.

The spark awoke in full glory.

Peals of laughter,

Stolen glances,

Deliberate brush of our hands,

Whisper of your lips on my fingers.

Brewed and crackled an electrifying chemistry.

We defied gravity and soared up the stars,

We were spiraling and reaching towards something,

We were getting there,

It was close enough to touch.

But Destiny was not done, her sleeves full of tricks.

She threw the dice again.

A strange drift came swinging right and left.

Something turned into Nothing.

We fit like a dream, but were pieces of different jigsaw puzzles.

You did not complete my portrait.

Your reflection discolored with my presence.

Amidst smiles and niceties, we bade goodbye.

We let go.

We never looked back.

We stayed unnamed, and dissolved into oblivion.

But for the delicate string joining us.

But for the spark refusing to die out.

But for that lingering awareness.

But for Destiny who is not yet done.


This poem was inspired by a prompt “Aware” at mindlovemisery’s menagerie and a lost (possibly forbidden) memory. How often do we experience these unexplained chance meetings that feel like a reunion of old souls? When a stranger simply isn’t one!