Unfinished Business

I would tell you how long it has been
But will that matter anymore to you or to me?
For life is a change that one experiences everyday,
For I have known this through the period you were away,
I don't crib about the past, for it was our own silly choice.
Let's however time travel for a moment or two.
When we first met, as stranger, me and you.
But somewhere, you were the stranger, known all my life, or it was just over thinking I was doing all this time.
I was scared, for you were a mirror, to the life that I had lost myself to,
But cloning was a sheer escape.
I could not explain in words about the struggle to be the best of me for you,
Neither could fight the fear that pushed you away.
But what you meant in the shortest of time, if they gave me hours I would count them into minutes, and the minutes into seconds,
Would you like to know how I would describe you ? you would mind I know,
But nothing  holds my words to show.
Let me tell how you would be, ever seen an angel in disguise?
It's said some come and across our lives for lessons, but I want you to stay.
There is no need , as it's power of the weak, your presence is my want, for the absence has been equally cherished.
Hopes shatter and hopes are built, they are the soul of human's will,
But it is always a pick, for how long you carry, each time I wanted to give up,
Something told me to stay, it was not yet the time to leave.
But while we sailed, there were some journeys, not similar but enough to make us realize.
I was sorry for all the times I failed to understand,
But universe has it's own way to give you answers, with all my learning came a sudden calm,
Then I wanted to thank you for it, but how would I?
It was all made worse from the best we could have.
I know I was called mad for being home sick, for my search could never settle.
But this little piece, was my only way.
You talk about people? Oh! They always have something to say.
Their disputed words and disses sometimes had a role to play.
Lost in our own space, we are traveling
Sometimes rejoicing the road and still scared to reach the destination.
But admits all the chaos and trouble
In the glances and stares, disappointment that I cannot spare,
I want my friend back, I want the friendship back.
And still a question comes over, will everything be the same as it was?
Will I appreciate that distance more or is this more worth it?
Will your need be fulfilled by the requirements of mine?
While things are settled even in this restlessness, I am afraid.
Yet, to everything that life would hold for us in future and Now.
I have one thing to say,
To you and to me , we would not be an unfinished business to each other.

Dexter

                                                     

                                      

The usual conversations that started with the mere discussion of  an old series, described a soul with widest description. The most unusual appearance yet with the most intriguing eyes , probably judging you at every moment. There was something in those talks that one could not but indulge and continue the flow of the words that had so much conviction, Speak SENSE or Don't Speak. The best thing about those eyes, they could tell you more than you would want to know. The mirror to your soul, a way to know the holder as well as yourself.

If you are an admirer of "smiles", that smile is definitely not your choice. Yet, they still bring you to their attention, the innocence , the simplicity and nothing superficial. There are some smile that might charm you just because of the beautiful curve they take , this one was abstractly magnificent.

Not everyone can make everyone burst out of laughter and make people realize their own worth, those punch lines not only made tears roll ,out of laughter but gave a sincere peace and amusement to one's dejected and broken morale. That strong was the power of humor of the soul I describe here.

They arose the desire of meeting and talking and enjoying a company with great efforts.

No one comes in all pieces , properly fixed and serving you the best, nor did he. There were broken pieces , trying to hold, was his strength. I would wonder, why should I not celebrate this soul? 

That energized greetings that one would wish to hear every morning, that made my visit to the boring lectures not just little bearable but treat to the soul. How sad was that right  moment , which lost to wrong time and poled situations. There were fears ,some hidden , some speaking loud and some yet to instill. Things were good, as they are always , until one starts relating, starts bringing thoughts we left in the past and then is when things go wrong.

There were times when present was less appreciated , past was so strongly held by the part that was weak and terrified that none could think , we would dwell in chapters ,which otherwise ,both never wished to turn the pages to. 

There are some similar lives, similar people. but how could you think they could be the same? He did walk the same path once again, wandered through the thoughts a second time, but then not all are destined to bring you the same fate.

Today, I sit and stare at the same person,who  has missing hopes, held cheer, this smile that I would long for every morning seems to be made up these days. There is something that is not right, except my presence ,there is a lot to trouble his soul. The smoke might be the escape , but how long ? There is a vibrant and a zealous soul that is trapped, begging you to let him come to life, the way a poetry struggling through the poet's mind.  The best of him loves him more than the part that just fears and escapes, makes him weak. 

It is never risky to love, the part of him that is forever mine, his best or near to it 
(even if the one now disapproves of and Yes, I will be reluctant to share him , I will be jealous to see him being enjoyed in my absence ), nor is the person he turns up to every morning. The best of him, treasures my company too. We see , we talk , and he promises to meet me very soon , when I would not search, because he will be HIM. 

The jokes , the smiles, the drum beats , the talks and the best of him is what I treasure , I wait to know him. For it takes, more efforts to appreciate than before. To the soul that brought happiness and joy , knowingly and unknowingly too, deserves to always be happy , The trade off will never work for the person that ,he is. Well, people change and I befriend soul. Friendship will be brought. 

I will know you , we will know each other, when laughter is genuine , spaces are respected and enjoyed and friendship is wished for , every single day. We will not be afraid , we will wait. 

"SOME TIMES A LITTLE PATIENCE, A LITTLE STRENGTH AND COURAGE TO TRUST WILL BRING BEAUTIFUL EXPERIENCE AND HAPPY TIMES, THINGS MIGHT BE REPEATED , IT WILL BE SIMILAR BUT NOT THE SAME, EVERY TIME WE WILL NOT BE HURT , NOT EVERY TIME WILL WE BE BROKEN"   

p.s: I apologize , for the descriptions that might not be agreed, but I have learnt to observe, I have learned to appreciate , You have taught me to see beautiful , Thank you 

LOVED HISTORY, SO IT REPEATED

               

History has always been an extremely interesting subject to me, unlike the normal reactions. Then I have to remember I was never in those normal categories of people. So, how amazing is history , travelling time in just few hours gives all together a different experience. It is just those stories which turned into past. But what actually history is?  just mere subject, texts or dates or the past which is supposedly irrelevant to present and definitely fruitless to be defined in future. We never understood how important this past could be to mold are present and make our future worth appreciating .

How amazing when one day , history walks into the present and you never realise that it could help you live some beautiful moments of times it treasured. The feeling of living it once more just mesmerizes and gives the new reasons of loving the history. When you would be wishing to time travel, there is always a fear of getting stuck there , not ready to leave things and people who already left your present. That is when the real beauty of history comes to life.

But it has not been the same story every time , it has never been. 

That moment when you said , It was not meant to be,

The question was still in her head, WHY ? 

She had tried once, twice and many times.

How stupid she was to not understand 

SHE ALWAYS LOVED HISTORY , 

And so did HISTORY !

Yet, she tried again, not ready for what was to come soon

Something not new for her, not something she had not gone through before ,

But this time , the present was new from the past.

Though, a fool she was to not understand , the destiny of it was still the same, like all her past.

With a very courageous heart , ready to take the risk and bold effort , she once again Tried. 

TRIED FOR YOU !  

Things going well, until one day fears and History scared the soul once again. 

Then came your judgement , your compatibility quotient , calculated with accuracy.

Once again, a friendship wished was gone, a laughter was lost , her comforts lost, History won.

She never understands , things she forces to have always have the strings held at the other end 

Just whispered through , 

HISTORY , PLEASE DON'T LOVE ME ANYMORE, I WANT LIVE A NEW PRESENT, MAKE A NEW PAST. 

She heard a whisper back ,I LOVE YOU MORE - History *smiles* 

"Ab Dosti bhi itna soch ke kijiyega ?"

SHE could be anything YOU wanted her to be

       

   

She stood there gazing at the sunset that would soon darken the sky she loved to see in the bright 
sunlight.The night how ever seems so pleasing now. There was peace in the roughness and 
complications and dwindled all prospects of happiness. She could not decide where she stood to mark her territories. She went to the beach to decide if she could be the pebbles to form ripples that would make huge waves.

She asked the breeze that if she was strong to bring the storm. The answers lied within her and she never knew that it could be a choice and not an option given to her. Yet she wandered finding answers as she could not figure out if her actions were so indecisive or the cumulative failures at human connectivity had a depth undiscovered.

She went to the spark to know what held her back to bring the fire and she got the scar engraved, she lost it all over again. She was  still firm to change those scars into symbols of victory. 
She met people , of every kind, She left a part of her in them. She wanted people to know why she was there, not for her but for them. She could be the drug, She could be the relief.She could be the monster to make you divine. She could tear apart the darkness to bring out the light you held for so long,blinded by your own self-misconceptions.

She could be the future that would destroy the past you never wanted to travel through.The price you would pay getting into the heaviest debt. 
She has millions of stars that would adorn your sky, not that her's is bright but would make your's the brightest.

      SHE IS THERE, THERE TO BE YOUR CHARM!

How should I Love YOU ?

                                         

Just while I was resting  my back on the green grass of the field ,I overheard the most beautiful words one could tell the other person " I love you". These three words made more sense than any appreciation one soul could give to another. The two , holding hands and embracing each other seemed like the most pleasant sight of that evening. Yet, something that I wondered was the gestures.

 Is a hug or a sweet kiss the only way to show that two people completely adorn each other? How amazingly has this interpretation being turned into a cliche. I have always pondered hard through this thought and action of expression. I have always found the kiss sensual and the hugs warming, but I question myself Will this tell how much "I LOVE YOU" ? 

The other day , the football match brought a new scene into the picture. The captain took his most amazing shot, and there the team achieved a brilliant goal! Everyone applauded , raised their voice to cheer the captain, sure he was the winner! But , then the eyes lost something, they searched for something so desperately, the reward and not the trophy. There, in the corner the unstoppable clapping and the laughter and the smile beamed with pride. The trophy rested ,on the ground the knees were bowed down, in thankfulness. The captain flaunted his strength and gave the most cupid smile to his confidence, she could never hear her heart beat so fast. 

The budding poet sitting at the corner was writing a new poem , what could be his inspiration? I thought. The room with so much of chaos and disturbance, would not the words lose conviction? Does he not fear to lack ideas? Yet, I failed to observe the stolen glances from the other corner ,where the poetry lived.  

The ashtray on the table cleaned by her each morning , saddened and  gave a fresh start not to her mood but the round of drags of smoke by him. That night , her tears and his will replaced the ash with the leftover chocolate cup cake wrapper in the morning.

In all these instances, the three words never found space, So Is it not LOVE? Then what is it ?
Not a kiss , not a hug, Is that no LOVE ? 

The most teen question , the acceptance through age Who do you find sexy?What do you find hot ?
The most sexy is his smile, the hottest is his intellect and what is most attractive is his sense of humor, to make me laugh so hard as to die.

I love that he never said I LOVE YOU , but always understood that I LOVE HIM !

 " HO MEHARBANI  JO DIL DE ZUBANI , KEH DE JO NA KABHI KAHA HAI " 

It was never easy for her

It has been so difficult and hard to get things right in place. To realize how much has life taken from you in these few months. It is hard to even tell and prove people that the person she looks at every morning through those judgmental reflections is not what she was. It is so discouraging to look at something you fail to decipher, you fail to recognize. She , the other day stood gazing at herself , trying her best to figure out about the distortion , the missing. She felt she had been punctured and hollowed, things had really hit her hard. No one but she knows how miserable the feeling of losing yourself is. To become worse from the best, to be lonely when you are never alone. You might not understand why she is like that, because you do not clean other's mess, Do you? So she walks by, not letting you get filthy from the dirt she carries. Each time she gets a hope to recover she has to pull her self down because, her wild shreds speak so loud as to hurt the people she would love to know, love to care for and love to love.  How amazing it would be if you would let her know, how worthy she is, bring out the fear she holds within. She observes that she is desired by some, those who know they can confine,get console for their restlessness. She is not weak just not too strong to be let down again. She is not bad , she is not rude just not ready to hurt the people of the future as she has in her past. She is just tired of always being exploited, of losing things that were close to her and probably were her strength . Her dreams , her fantasies and her most weird and wandering lust thrived on things she could not let go, but Alas! for somethings she had no control on. Everyday she encounters the instability with much humor , but then No one ever tried to look at the blue. She is harsh and you blame her for it, she is caring and you get annoyed out of it, She could not take these rejections together, she went down the dumps. How beautiful she was when her tears rolled down as the laughter that even made you laugh with her,Did you remember to Thank her for that ? You fear her negativity, never understanding that her lust for positivism was not that trivial as you thought it to be. She is the breeze that disguises herself as a strong wind, the tenderness that becomes hard with passage of time. She is life that would taste the bitterness of DEATH !

Be the light that would pierce her darkness, the eyes she would look up to when needed courage, the palm to rest her cheeks on, The hand she would hold when she will be about to fall.

The girl.

Sometimes when I am sleeping she dares to knock. The knock is feeble and weak however has a lot to convey. She has controlled watery eyes. She is hesitant to drop it down. She is scared, I would scold her for crying. She is hurt but with sealed lips, her words she knows would make me vulnerable. She says , she was broken , yesterday, today and is aware that tomorrow will be the same.

She has complains and she is angry, for I never allow her to speak through my voice. She said she belongs to someone and that she misses him but I know, she is stupid. She is sad and dejected, I don't let her flaunt her cascades. She wants to rejoice herself and I always make her mourn. She wishes to sing the song of freedom. She wants to desperately and hopelessly fall for him. She wants him to look with a celebrating gaze. She wants to catch his blink after a long stare. She wants to express the unconditional love she carries for him, how much his smile means to her.
She tells me not to kill her, she says that she wants to live rather than just survive  for the sake of her fantasies. She told me to stop this hypocrisy. She demands from me to give up the disguise.

She wants ME to be SHE, but I know. She is the truth that is too unpleasant to be pleasant, hard to be held for her pieces prick.
She is ME.