Over and Over

ONCE
I inhale a new scent. The fingers are longer and tapered at the ends... Entwined with mine they look strangely new. There are fireworks and smiles and gasps and cries. There is ecstasy and pain and caresses. There is light outside and yet we remain in the dark. Breathing. The room is filled with the smell of smoke, fear and pain. Take care, he said. I will, said I. I am careful to close the door gently on the way out.
____________________________________________________________
AGAIN
There are children playing in the courtyard below . The sky looks like rain. There are swarms of dragonflies in the air and higher up, the eagles. I watch him smile. I want him to smile again. To speak and to laugh again. I watch him drink the tea I've made. As always it's too sweet. As always he drinks it anyway. I begin to let myself feel. Happy.

Crash

When the first plate smashed to the floor with a resounding crash it felt good. So I slowly picked up one plate after the other and smashed them all to the floor. There were some glasses. I smashed those too. I didn't scream or shout. The noise created by the destruction of china was enough to raise hell itself. It was strangely calming. Then, I stepped over the shards and decided to go to bed.
There were people saying something but I was drunk out of my wits to care. Someone grabbed my arm and I pushed them away. Hard. I wanted to fall. And I wanted to never get up. I wanted to do something so drastic it'd make me forget that bone deep love which you can't because it's bone deep.
I stared resentfully at no one in particular and when someone told me to lie down, I did quietly. I was hoping I'd sleep. Sleep didn't come. Visions did. I hated myself then. I hate drunk people. I hate all drunk people. It has always been so easy to hate. To hate yourself and everything you love.

Darrrrllllliiiiinnnngggg

Interesting realisation today while listening to a song on the radio as I drove to college: I am totally that girl. I am not refined. Do not wish to be. I am just slightly afraid of new people and am actually not that stuck up. And I love with gay abandon! People. Things. Everything that takes my fancy.
The song in question goes something like this : Munni badnaam hui.. darling tere liye!, Item yeh kaam hui darling tere liye.. and in the end she loses the plot completely and says le jhandu balm hui.. darling tere liye!!
Totally not a catharsis inducing song for most, I know. However, as I said. I can totally imagine dancing to this with energetic thumkas, numerous winks and lip biting. I can imagine most people reading this and rolling their eyes. I don't give a flying fuck. I am totally the girl that makes guys hug their pillows!

L'amour

"I love him." She says. And she says it over and over and day in and day out.

Makes me think of the lyrics from a song I used to sing a long time ago: "Where is love? Does it fall from skies above?"

I've been accused of not understanding it. To scoff with disdain at the futility of dates and silly simpering stares in coffee shops. Guilty as charged. Dating is not love. Setting a date to meet up and then going frantic waiting for the day to arrive when you wash your hair with the good shampoo that makes it bounce, and then turn up in something you think you look good in but which the guy will barely notice is not love! It is however, one hell of an effort!

What I think love means...

Time. It means having all the time in the world to give and waste. To count hours. To count minutes or even seconds before you get to see them. To ponder over days or weeks or months. To spend together countless years and decades perhaps. To live in moments big and small when everything seems to unfold as if only for the two of you.

It means long walks in absolute silence on lost roads and warm hands with entwined fingers. When you stop looking for stops and signs and transport and conversation.

It means caterpillars, moths and butterflies, the works! It means a warm fuzzy feeling at the goofiness and the intimacy and the hugs and scents.

It means pain. It means heart wrenching sobs which tear you up on the inside and which you still do for that one person. It means an ache which grows and smoulders within.

Love lasts. It's as simple as that. You either know that feeling or you don't. It's not a story or a fairytale. It doesn't always have happy endings. It's as simple as the feeling of warmth.

Us, Girls

Quick to judge and quicker to love. That's what we are, us carefree girls. Careworn too sometimes. Seemingly innocent, with shadows of doubts beneath our eyes, we get lost in our own various defences.
My trail of charm is different than hers and hers and hers. Maybe someone picked up the wrong scent and traced it back to the wrong girl. We hold our heads high in our fathomless mistakes made for and by others and secretly flounder.
I know I am always slightly confused and secretly alert. As I watch the others I know that they are too. All of us are on the lookout for the signs from each other about our own trails and travails.
Sometimes the most innocuous of words become infested with a plethora of meanings and then we ponder and think and construe.