Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Empathy


One lazy afternoon, in the shade of a large sycamore tree
We were as still as our sated souls, the inert minds were free.
A tight bond from the years past has its aura of comfort
Making silent yet engaging conversation, requiring little effort

Her words were casual, yet deep when she asked softly
Who is he? Who is he that you think of ceaselessly?
Who is he who brings an unbidden smile to your lips?
Who is he who can make your sun shine in an eclipse?

Can a mere mortal bring seamless calm to your senses?
To a fickle mind that elopes on frequent flights of fancy?
Or is it a ghost who marches with you to realms unknown
To quell your fears and hold your hand when you walk alone?

Beaming at my companion, I wished to set her mind to rest
I wanted to extol the virtues that the enigmatic man possessed
To describe the lightness and warmth, the profundity and ease
Of the comradeship we cherished with no imposed boundaries

But the tongue turned to stone as thoughts turned to vapour
Wits were swiftly blunted with the sudden headiness of ardor
The place stood forgotten, and time lost its essence,
As I tried to funnel the rush of emotions into coherence

She understood and articulated, my dearest soul sister!
She said, "Yes, you cannot explain the taste of water to another
You cannot draw a picture of hope; when there is only disaster
Yes, you cannot express the angst of love to a fellow sufferer"!

Friday, September 30, 2011

From me to you


What the blue ocean is to a crimson sunset,
What the ring of mist is to the tall mountain
What the hovering bee is to a red red rose,
What the infinite darkness is to a yellow lantern

What the mellow sound of a flute is to an early morn,
What the sweet aroma is to a gentle breeze
What the cold night is to the blazing flame,
What the soft zephyr is to a tree of golden leaves

What the warmth of a hand is to a smooth forehead,
What the glittering dew drop is to green grass,
Is your sliver of silent appreciation,
Your unsaid word of praise to this bright-eyed lass!

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Office spouse? Or a friend with benefits?


 
I was at a raucous and bouncy party a few weeks back, where the topics ranged from sports to spirituality and relationships as the drinks went from water to orange juice to rum – straight up. Now, with the friends I hang out with, any conversation worth its time occurs only when folks are drunk, any topic of a consequential nature is brought up only when we are smashed. This is also when people speak the truth, the absolute sweet-sour truth. As we trudged back and forth to the bar table to refill our (and others’) drinks, a possibly-devastating question in the form of an innocuous thread made its way across the room. “Have you seen the movie No strings attached”? Now for most of us, who were familiar with the urban phrase, it wasn’t even necessary to have watched the movie to jump headlong into the conversation and contribute our two bits.

While someone said that the concept doesn’t exist in Indian culture, another was quick to refute and illustrate with a personal example (citing a friend of a friend of course!) saying that it only exists but is even alive, kicking and breeding! Setting aside what society does and thinks, we decided to question ourselves (with the limited thinking abilities we had then) and reveal our familiarity with the notion of forming physical connections without any accompanying emotional baggage.

Man has emotional, physical, intellectual and spiritual needs – agreed? Now, we have been brought up with the rather unsustainable belief that the person you co-habit with/love/marry will meet all your above needs. He has to. That’s what our religion and society expect and perhaps, most often observe. Note that I say “observe” here because we are getting incredibly good at pretence and sham and hence, cannot assume that what we see is what is. In the fleeting time we spend even with our closest friends, we can only notice what they want us to notice. I am digressing…but if you are with me still, have some “paciencia”– I am taking you somewhere.

So, we have established that your partner needs to meet every need you can possibly have through your lifetime. On second thought, I should rephrase – social norms have decreed this about your partner. But do we actually abide by this diktat? Can you rely on one person for needs ranging from intellectual stimulation to spiritual solace? It doesn’t sound unreasonable or bizarre at all to me that we connect with different people depending on interests and wavelengths. If I were frazzled because of work deadlines, my boyfriend could probably take the edge off it by making sympathetic noises over the phone, but the person who could understand and offer to resolve it would be my colleague or friend at work thereby fulfilling my most immediate need of the day.  When I get back home, less worried, my boyfriend would, no doubt, fulfil my other immediate physical need – a relaxing massage, that is…you smug, omniscient beings. He would also undoubtedly appreciate the fact that I am not getting on his nerves , frustrated with my job.

This is a common instance that we come across, first or second hand and we accept the outcome without batting an eyelid. This is primarily because, the relationship we share with a colleague is purely professional and it ends at 6pm. It is perfectly acceptable to spend time with him over lunch or tea discussing things unrelated to work just because we know that it is temporary, not binding and hence above the purview of any social/moral/religious authority.

I have a friend who is very religious – he is a stickler for tradition, customs and rituals and has the conviction to back up his beliefs. We have had many conversations about our diametrically opposite views on religion – since I am an opportunistic agnostic – choosing to have faith in the supernatural when it is convenient, and each time, I come back with more questions than before, leaving him with more doubts than before. We are able to tickle the right nerves of reason and get us both wondering like children. Again.

His wife is as religious and pious as he is and that’s one of the reasons that he got married to her. They don’t talk to each other about their religious convictions or faiths mainly because there is nothing new to discover in their understanding of this weighty subject. Here’s my question - is he committing a sin by baring his soul to me about his beliefs? Am I committing one by encouraging this sort of conversation-based relationship outside his marriage? No. Because we are friends having an intellectually stimulating talk for a short period after which he goes home happily to his wife to talk about sundry matters and engage in domestic activities.

Our generation finds sources of delight in trivial, untangible objects, sympathy from unexpected strangers and succor from random friends. Yes, as a modern adult, there are multiple resources at my disposal to satiate and provide comfort. When I can lean on friends for emotional, intellectual and spiritual intimacy, why not physical? The body desires engagement and stimulation as much as our brain does. Why then, do we deny ourselves simple pleasures like a hug, kiss or a caress when we spend hours entertaining thoughts on the same lines? Why is having a physical relationship outside marriage called adultery but having an emotional connection not called the same? In my opinion, the word adultery should be tagged to any emotional, physical, intellectual or spiritual relationship that is sought outside any committed relationship.  

Now that I have ranted enough about the hypocrisy of “adultery”, let me jump straight into matters that affect me today.

There are times when I desire physical intimacy – it’s just a short-lived yearning to be held and comforted by actions rather than words. There is no clause in the treaty of life that I remember signing, about not having a physical relationship with someone that I am not in love with. Yes, you may say that I am walking on that tight-rope where I could easily slip up and fall into the emotional depths of unrequited love but if that is a risk I am willing to run, then why is it morally unacceptable to be physically intimate? To twist Gandhi’s words, “in my matters of conscience, the law of majority has no place.” If two adults are consenting, there need not be anyone else passing judgement.

Now, welcome to the real world of the dangers of uninhibited physical intimacy. They say that the HIV virus is man-made; they say that religious and scientific organizations colluded to engineer the virus and spread it since this was the only way to encourage and sustain the institution of marriage in the 70s, when western hippie culture was at its most alluring, giddy peak. I don’t know how much truth lies in this but I do see why this would be a good solution. And indeed it has been proven that there was more stress on having stable families after the alarming discovery and rapid spread of the HIV virus.

Hypothetically speaking, if there was no fear of sexually transmitted diseases, would couples still remain faithful? Can stable relationships not evolve from a one-night stand? Isn't physical compatibility as important in a marriage as an intellectual match? Questions for another day, another blog post, perhaps.


Tuesday, September 13, 2011

For you...

For you, she gently smiles through her tears,
For you, she silently cries through her smiles,
In the dark shadows of dusk she waits
In the crimson wake of dawn she hopes
To welcome you, the soldier, still so far away.

In the land of the righteous, in the land of the brave,
A valiant battle on the burning sands of time
His weapons of justice gleaming in the light
As our solemn hero patiently beheads
The enemy of falsehood who still grows in strength

The little cherub stumbles along in wonder
Eyes shining bright, fists clutched tight
The mother cradles him in her sinewy arms
And croons a sweet melody to comfort
A haunting song of love, longing and loss.

Together they all dream of the day of union once again
The language of the heart needs no learning
Nor any teaching for it to be understood or spoken
A solitary resonant chord of wishes for peace
Blown by the wind across the wasteland of human desires.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

It was the greatest victory I could savour, while I limped back home with pride...

A cool, crisp morning, stomach full
Determination in my heart and
Liquid sloshing in my tummy
Albeit the wrong kind: Red Bull.

Two goals to achieve: to be injury-free
And the other to finish
Thirteen miles and one-tenth
Of sun and shade, asphalt and debris

99 being my runner's tag
Among 100 runners
Hoping I wouldn't finish last
And beaten by an old hag

Customary pictures taken, wishes galore,
A few stretches and warm-ups
The radio in my pocket
Plenty of gatorade in my store

Tried not to think about the 60-year-old lady
Who passed me on mile three
Nor the 12-year-old who flew by me
And whom I labelled totally crazy

The key to success is a sustained pace
They said, Slow and steady
No spurts of any sort, no sprints of any kind
If you want to win the race or just save face

Mile six and I was going smooth
No sign of the turn-around and I was worried so
My liquid nourishment was running low
It was dawning on me slowly, the truth

Hydrate, stressed my still functional brain
My legs screamed for energy on mile eight
My tummy rumbling away like no tomorrow
The worst was my bladder, placed under great strain.

The course, along the river would've been great
On any day but today with its inviting coolness
And little waves lapping on the shore
But not so in my tired, wornout state.

One mile 11 I found a partner in pain
Who was on her first half-marathon
Hah! Advice from one novice to another
Flowed freely and without rein.

A quarter mile from the finish and I faced abandonment
From my partner who ran away
While I struggled to walk
While my confidence was shaken bent.

I heard screaming finally, cheerful and loud
And caught a glimpse of my father, taking pictures
I crossed the finish line with a groan
With cramped legs but admiration from the crowd.

While I lay on the grass overwhelmed by
Cramps, exhaustion and encouragement.
The acknowledgement of people around me
Not the sense of accomplishment or the adrenaline high

Was the greatest victory I could savour, while I limped back home with pride...

Friday, August 12, 2011

I used to be...

Those were the days when I was young and cared little
When living, loving, losing and lying were simple
Confusion, conflicts and a conscience I had not
I lived as though life was forgiving and short.

That's when I used to be...

My world laid out into neat squares of black and white
Happiness and liberty were my well-earned birthright
Decisions were easy, impulsive and instant
For I was feckless and free of any repent.

That's who I used to be...

Now I'm in a different place and in a different light
Yet somehow this feels so fitting and right
My old rose-tinted glasses were actually clouded
Not by warmth, but frosty shades of self-interest instead

That's how I used to be...

There's a burst of colour in my world these days
With violets, yellows, greens, red and yes, even greys.
I splash about in waves of uncertainty and fear every minute
But now I wonder how to add to life and not what I get from it.

This is who I am...

Unrequited love

Unrequited love is a good, healthy sentiment. It gives one the freedom to choose whom to shower affection, how much of it and when. If you are a control beast like I am, this is the perfect kind of love to give and in the process, enjoy every up and down moment. When your love is unreciprocated, there is no limit on how much love you want to shower or how little. There are days when I may not feel like loving at all. I may want to moulder in my own space. And there are days when I am overflowing with affection with an intensity that would put Romeo to shame. Why not show it selflessly and bask in the sunshine of all that love? When there is no expectation of a return gift, one is free to give without boundaries.

The problem steps in as soon as your love is reciprocated. There are the perennial perils of failing to match up to the same level of love as what you are receiving. You dont want to love someone too much more or too little, compared to the other person. You are constantly re-calibrating your love scale when love is reciprocated. He has called me twice today. Should I call him twice today? Or more? Or once? He has written such a lovely poem for me. Should I write something back? I have told him something about my painful past. Should he not share something from his life too - after all, I was honest with him. 

Being in a real relationship, is like driving on a two-way street, you have to watch out for oncoming traffic, judge the spaces, distances and then move ahead and still make sure you never step over the lines. Isnt it just less worrisome and more fun to drive on a one-way street? :-)

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

My recipe for successful flirting

1 cup full-bodied human, of opposite gender
1 cup sauciness
1 glass of wicked wit
A few slices of dry humour
A dash of mystery
A spoonful of provocation

Toss everything into a big bowl of charisma and garnish with winks!

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