Tuesday, March 31, 2009


As I stand waiting for you in the alley, your time ends. And, sadly, my space begins .

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Why ?

"Her finely touched spirit had still its fine issues, though they were not widely visible.  Her full nature, like that river of which Cyrus broke the strength, spent itself in channels which had no great name on earth.  But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive:  for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs. "
- George Eliot in Middlemarch .

I need to thank Sangeetha for pointing it out to me. 
I know it is still not a complete answer for all my questions which led me to close this blog. But it did give me the inspiration to keep going ! 

Wednesday, March 18, 2009


"Don't cast aspersions on my honesty" , she said rather fiercely. Her eyes bloody.
"I care only about truth and not your honesty",  he spoke coolly. His voice deep and expressive .

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


The door is left ajar. Doesn't mean anyone can enter !

Thursday, March 05, 2009


They seemed to speak a lot . But they talked less. The game was not about words. One would wonder if it was about winning. Though all games were eventually about winning! It was unsure when the game would begin. He had lit a strawberry scented candle. The light was less. 
"Hey, I like your earrings", he said . She smiled . Resplendent. That was how she was. If anything.
Perhaps the game had begun. It was in making the right moves . Strong, focussed, mindful moves. No one would know how far the game would last. They played. Sometimes they played  to overpower the other. Some other times they let the other lead . There were fierce exchanges. A lot of them violent. But they had to play along. It was violence of an interesting nature. Things were given and taken. Every action reciprocated. Every sign understood . And acknowledged. There was a voluntary darkness sometimes . Though they never lost sight of the game. A few times they  played together. Against the game.  There were prolonged periods of silence. When they even felt the other breathe. And deep breaths broke the silence. There were smiles, giggles and exclamations. Like all games, there was excitement. And indulgence. There was wait and expectation. There was a sense of not being able to distinguish between thought and action. One dissolved into the other. Exactly the way the strawberry scent got mixed up with her perfume. And his. The anxiety peaked when they knew the game was going to end. And they held on . The game did not dissapoint them ! The fine climax to the game came as a fulfillment for having played it . They tried not to think about who won !The candle had burnt completely. There was no light. The scent remained, however. 
"Do you really like my earrings? ", she now asked .
"Yes", he said, "And your ears, eyes, lips..."