I Miss You

They allow me into their world every time I open a book; and every time I do so it's as if my actual surroundings are sucked into and metamorphosed into the surroundings of the characters inside the book. I keep standing there and all the action takes place right in front of my eyes. I go slow, letting every detail sink in. I come to know the characters all too well and get a welcoming response. The more pages I turn, the closer we get. It gives a feeling that they are comforted by my presence; there is someone who is interested in hearing all that is happening; someone so impervious that all the emotions can be shared; someone who wants it to be a happy-ending for them.

I give it several days before I finish a book and so each day some small part of my life is spent with them. The credit lies with the writers, pouring in their chimera, that readers like me want to go back to a book.

If the mood is sunny; it is sunny for me; if it’s dark, it is dark for me. The days I don’t read, a gap is created. Someone goes missing. It feels so important to meet that person again. The connection that has already been created must not be severed. I will miss you Winston. I miss you Mellors, Scout, Jem, Connie, Julia.

Why then, do I always say I don’t have any friends?

If One were To Compare?

A Sketch of My Profile Picture

An Attempt to Sketch Nelson Mandela

Life is Short, Act!

We share the same birth-date. Perhaps that is why I can connect to her so much. I feel that we think alike. I see my childhood in her. The same long, dark hair; the same smile; the same eyes. Even though the age difference is vast; she seems to be much more mature. She can give answers to difficult questions. She can give simple solutions to complex problems. She is one of the smartest kids I have ever met.

That day we were sitting facing each other. She asked me whether I remembered a sketch of hers that I had made. I didn't but she did. Not only that, she has also preserved it. Never knew she valued it so much. So, I asked her whether the sketch resembles her. She at once told me that it actually does resemble her. I felt elated. I have some talent. She made me promise that I would resume sketching.

Why in the first place did I abandon doing it? I had all the time in the world; but I always thought that there was none. I promised. If I don't do what I like doing now the when will I? Life is short. Act!

Don't Let Go

She was walking towards him. Her walk had a rhythmic flow in it. It was bouncy and happy.
He had his back towards her and was engrossed in reading the newspaper.
She wanted to look her best today. After all, they were going to go out after so long. She wore a smile on her face. She was excited.
 He turned and noticed her coming. The look on his face was rather cold, not something she had expected. Never before had he been so withdrawn, she wondered, but continued walking. With movements of her hand she signaled that she would come and her happiness knew no bounds.
He gently nodded her away and just at this point the expression on his face turned to anger.
She couldn't believe it. Her eyes dropped. She turned away in dolor. Was it because of the other day? But that was because of no fault of hers. It was a mere misunderstanding and she had thought he would understand. She didn't feel the need to explain. He should trust her.
 And just as she had started to walk away, he ran towards her with full speed and caught hold of her arm. He wouldn’t let her go!

"It's no good! It's no good trying to get rid of your own aloneness. 
You've got to stick to it all your life.
Only at times, at times, the gap will be filled in.
At times! But you have to wait for the times.
Accept your own aloneness and stick to it all your life.
 And then accept the times when the gap is filled in, when they come.
But they've got to come.
You can't force them." 
 -D. H. Lawrence

A protective shell is what is needed. It has started to develop already. The shell will reflect back all the negativity, negativity that can sear the heart. It needs to grow all around, all around. So used to it does one have to get that it doesn’t make a difference anymore and that is what should lead to the shell developing. But it has to reflect back negativity coming from all quarters not just one or two. So it needs to develop more, all around and grow stronger with time. The job isn't as easy as one thinks. Each time a new bond is made, the shell will have to renew itself and start the process of making itself stronger all over again. Inside it one will be all alone. One will be so brittle that one won't be able to do without the crust outside. One will have to be strong. Very strong!        

Running for the Unknown

I woke up in the morning and started running. If you were to ask me, I really can't say where. For what?

It's a race, I am bound to run. Because everybody is? What's the prize? The good of it all? I don't really know. None of us do. So, running. I am Running. I have lost all sense of time…. emotions…..  people ….or even myself..... all I can see, and all I can think is that I have to run. I am running in an empty space, no ground under my feet, no gravity at all. My speed is supersonic, but no air, can I feel, hitting my face. Or so I feel. I don't want to stop to look around. There is no time to waste. There is darkness all around. I can't see clearly. I need a guiding light. I need a direction.

 I want more of that world where there is some adventure every day. Where I get to explore new avenues, where I can stop a moment to hear the birds twitter and play, and see the flowers blooming. Where I can sit on the sand, on a beach, waves wetting my feet and I can watch the magnificent iridescence a sunset creates, where I have a whole day to spend with loved ones. Where I can laugh my heart out and say what comes to my mind. I crave for more of that wonderful world.

 I need a TIME-OUT, to resuscitate myself. Then, probably I will come and run again.

Everyday Woes of Every Girl

So, I was eating out, as I have a strong penchant for it, when this man entered. I didn't notice him at first. While I was busy eating, he came and sat at the table right in front of mine, perhaps so that he can get a good glimpse and he was looking at me continuously from that moment onwards. He was middle-aged, clean shaven and had an elephantine figure. The way he was looking at every movement of mine, it made me conscious.

Just for the sake of safety, I decided to leave after he did but to my disappointment he didn't budge even a little from his position. I couldn't sit there the whole evening, so I got up and rushed out of the door. The guard pulled open the door again and I knew that it was for the man. I became so sure of his intentions now. He was definitely after me. I was walking on the pavement and he was walking along the chain of cars that were parked along the road. I was taking small steps allowing him every with every opportunity to take me over. But when I slowed down, so did he. I was scared to the core now. “How can I dodge him?” I was trying hard to think. I turned and started walking in the opposite direction. I crossed the road.

Walking past a few people waiting for the bus, feeling safer, I stopped to have a cola candy. The ice-cream vendor had his mini television on. He obviously couldn't miss his duty for the World Cup Finale, but watching India win was no less important. And just as I tore open the wrapper, a silver car loomed in, next to the vendor's establishment.

"Oh ****! This is the same man." I exclaimed.

He pulled down the glass window, bought a brick of an ice-cream and paid the vendor. He was waiting. I was chewing (because I like to chew my ice-cream not because I was scared). The ice-cream vendor was wondering why the man was still waiting. I moved a little towards the vendor and there was more waiting, chewing and wondering. I pretended to watch the match.

The man finally started the ignition and drove over only to halt the car a little distance away. I saw the rear red lights of the car blinking, with my heart was pounding inside me. I couldn't walk on and I couldn't stay. What was I to do? There was a fear that if I will go the man will somehow catch hold of me and he wouldn't spare me, and then don't know what he will do. Tears were about to roll down my cheeks before which I gathered up the courage to make a move. My home was two minutes away. If only I could reach it without any hurdles, I will be safe. I crossed the road again. I walked on. I had to be quick. The car was still standing. The lights were blinking. I walked on. I reached, slammed the gate behind me and turned to see from in between the gates if the car had followed. There were no signs of it. I breathed a sigh of relief. I made sure the man wasn't there.

Friends scolded me for having gone alone. Maybe I shouldn't have, even though I like it. The man must have been a real pervert. This is what we girls face every day. The place has nothing in the name of security for us. This wasn't the first time I came across such a situation. There have been several such occasions, not just for me but for every girl in town. Even though I can't understand the psychology behind such behaviour from men, I know that we cannot stop. We have to go on with our lives without letting things like these affect us.