"I Know"

Some things, people and memories in life knock at your door when you are expecting them the least. When you are broken and discarded and living in despair someone just comes along from the most unusual places and changes everything. You don't have to look for that someone anywhere or find them in strangers, when you're destined to meet the right person everything in the world will make sense. Everything will fall in place. You will dress up just right and be at the right place at the right time, and everything shall happen just how it was meant to be and don't overthink, don't spend time thinking what could have happened differently that you thought was terribly wrong, sometimes such wrongs are better than most rights.

She was thinking about all this and making entries in her journal, the brown leather diary with handmade sheets that look ages old and have so much character that every word dropped on the surface of those pages becomes poetry. Every leaf drawn on the sheets becomes art and every moment shared, a memory. This morning she was smiling to herself about every little thing, called everyone she could, of course didn't tell the reason behind that inexplicable happiness and lightness of foot to all but surely talked to everyone who mattered. She wanted to stand on the balcony of her fourth floor apartment and shout it out loud to the world that she was happy. It was that kind of day when she wanted to watch the pigeons on the terrace across hers, wanted to sit by the glass window as it rained and read all the beautiful stories that she could find. She could not contain the abundance of emotions. She wanted to fly high or just touch the sky. It was finally that day.

He was tired from the day's work and exhausted by the travel that he had to make and by the idea that this travel would continue to persist for the next 6 months, to say the least. He was tired but not cranky, like the public transport usually makes him. He was happy in a strange way. He didn't know why is the work, the travel, the weather, not irritating him more. He wondered whether he has grown up or something else. Couldn't really figure out what it was until he reached home and saw the date and time flashing on the TV screen and then he smiled to himself. His body was rejuvenated by a strange sense of happiness. He was surprised that all this while subconsciously he knew . He ate his food and longed to go out to the phone booth to make the desired call. He began to miss her like never before. Began to write a letter but realised he wanted a swifter remedy to aid his urge, a point of contact. He decided to go for the phone call. He waited and waited till it was time. Time to unleash his happy soul and time to hear her voice. He made the call.

She was sitting beside the telephone since an hour waiting to hear him. She had never waited to hear the annoying ring tone of her telephone like she did now. She wanted to forget her self and the world as she waited for it to ring. And it did. She took less than a second to pick it up and said the words he was dying to hear, he reciprocated but that was followed by a satisfying silence. Their voices had reached each other, it had happened. Her voice had touched his soul, had purged the urge to feel her, be near her and this silence was worth everything they owned. She began talking like they would any other day, until suddenly while she was engrossed in narrating the millions of little stories that she had in store to tell him, he stopped and said, "It has been a year". She smiled, and said "I know"

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Getting older.

I still remember my second birthday. No, I am not lying, I do. I remember what I wanted the most on my second birthday. Just cake. That's all I wanted. I wanted to stuff my mouth with that colorful creamy sweet dish, a bundle of joy. I have a video tape of my birthday where I am literally jumping from my father's arms onto the cake. But times change and so do priorities. On my third it was about gifts and actually that remained so for many many years. I remember waiting for all people to leave and the party to finish so that I could first sit around the beautifully packed presents and eventually open them. One by one. Diligently. Trying hard not to spoil the wrapping paper in the first few and eventually tearing them apart in excitement. After that it was the dress I guess. All I cared about during my teenage was the dress I wore which was again carefully thought and shopped. I eagerly waited to wear that on my birthday. I felt like a princess, I remember. In college, it was just the party and my friends. Only the amount of  "fun" that we could have. Now, it's nothing. I no longer feel anything. There is no excitement. It's like any other day. In fact it's worse because people who have not even thought about you in years will suddenly call you and say "Happy birthday", You have to call back and all. People for the sake of social formality will write "Happy birthday", even "HBD" on your facebook timeline that will eventually lead to a million notifications. Most of them are doing it so halfheartedly that they don't even put pains enough to spell "H A P P Y  B I R T H D A Y", they just signal or register their presence, like marking themselves present on a class they never wished to attend. What is the point ?

The above mentioned "fun" almost becomes a baggage once you grow up. You're expected to throw a party. Invite people. Treat them with food and hospitality. Soon your birthday becomes a social responsibility. The party almost becomes a pressure. It's like the Indian marriage concept parents believe in. You ate at mine so you ought to call me at your's. No one is no longer interested in what do you want to do for your birthday. 

What if you want to be alone and do nothing and maybe sulk about getting one year older.What if it is like a clock ticking on your head. What if you want to go away and switch your phone off and take a birthday off and maybe spend a couple of days in peace in the mountains (Mountains <3). Or sit in front of a beach, all day doing nothing. Just thinking about what has the last one year added to you or what has changed and how much have you grown. Or maybe you want to set up a plan for your next year. You might want to lock yourself up or shout on the streets. Just do it. Remember, who was bloody born on that day ? You or the innumerable ones who think about you only once in the whole year, on your goddamn birthday ? You, of course. Then live it. Live it like you want to and spend it with the people who you love and who really care for you to be around you on your birthday. Spend it with the ones who you would want to keep in the coming year and in all the years to come. It's your day after all. Make it special.

Desire

Desire. A sensation locating its place somewhere in the middle of conscience and choice. A desire buds through a temptation and then cements itself in the back, front, middle and at times all over the human mind. I know this seems blasphemous, the use of words like desire and temptation that could be read as eternal sins but do we really submit to the conscience or work towards the fulfilment of our desires ? Desire leads to happiness and everyone around the world is in the pursuit of nothing but happiness. Then why not ? Why not let the desires rule out your conscience and strive towards its consummation. At least, this is what they did. The two of them. Who were religiously pursuing each other in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the eighties while the constantly moving chariot of the sun God declared day and night as days passed.

Once they had made room for a kiss, passion flew like waters from an open dam. There was no stopping them, no looking back. Carnal love is not to be damned. Contrary to the popular belief, what it really does is bring two people more and more close to each other and finally binds them with an eternal lot. They didn't care of what the world would say. By "talking", the world did what they are best capable of. Why should they not love and exercise their own best capabilities of loving and kissing and being one. Marriage, people consider, is the sole, legitimate initiator of the exercise of such a passion. A desire for love making. It provides the license but who knows this passion is obligatory or not. Who knows if people involved in the act are only procreating and not loving. Why are the carnal pleasures assumed only to be a recourse to populate an overtly populated world ? Why is this pleasure not an outcome of unrestrained passion where love leads to procreation as a product of love and not a means to an end ?

She had her hands locked around his neck and was looking eagerly into his eyes once they had opened after the spiritual commingling of their lips in a lip lock. He was burning with desire and read the same fire in her eyes. He tightened his grasp a little more around her waist and drew her closer to himself and soon she loosened her locked hands from around his neck and let them fall through his back up to his chest. The signals had been sent and well received. She knew it was time to be swept off her feet and placed on the spongy bed and turn red the white bed sheet. It was a historical moment in her life because it was her first time. Barely had she known that it was his first too. They both swam deep into each other and were both as happy as one can be. They had never been happier or more passionate.

They were both excited but nervous. Nervous but way more excited. They had barely known where exactly to begin because the unavailability of internet had barred a lot of education that we receive today in the modern tech-savvy world. So they just followed the signals their body gave them naturally. They moved from one part to another, from the head till the toes. They were exploring each other like travellers explore new lands and make geography. They were exploring bodies and making art. Art, the form of which was common to all, yet, was different for every couple. The bodies moving slowly to built positions and shapes, only too conscious to avoid hurting the other.

And then suddenly he screamed once, twice and thrice, signalling the completion. He asked her, "did you like it". She blushed and said "of course", barely knowing whether she was done or not. Although it surely was the best thing she had experienced in all her life and wanted more and more.They decided to meet another day, the next perhaps. He left being the happiest man on earth, while she still felt his presence both around and within her. It was a beautiful feeling. They had both explored something afresh. Something only heard till then but now, experienced !

To much of her surprise there were no reds on the bed sheet to mark her chastity. She was astonished and then remembered it couldn't have been so. Was it the swimming pool that had long ago defiled her ? "Then, what is all the fuss really about ?", she thought for a minute. But she was too happy to care. There was a sudden sense of growing up, of becoming a woman. There was a welcome change in her body, or at least she wanted to feel so. She was happy. Very happy. It was worth a million such penetrations. Was something so beautiful kept away from her just because of a wall she had already broken ? She thought. Then again the face of her charming knight took over her imagination and she felt so much more in love. From then on, they were one. Spiritually, emotionally and physically, one.