The Walk To Ecstasy

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“CEO”; The title that hung outside her door.
“Mrs. Duke”; The one society knew her to be.

The French windows behind her glass desk overlooked another building just like her own. Glass, grey. Sophisticated. Just like all the other buildings in New York. 50 years now in the company, she was one of the finest and richest women of her time. The photo frames only captured moments of false happiness that were forced by the camera men. Who was family?

She was clueless about where they were till christmas, till then even a phone call was a gift. Pearls, heels and suits; her life revolved around it. Deep In thought she noticed that the next building threw a shadow on her office wall and created a delightfully good figure of a tree.
She couldn’t think of the last time she saw an actual tree or park until that day when she took that walk.
-On that auspicious day, he read out the words tears in his eyes and his heart overwhelmed with joy and sorrow both. He knew not what he was to feel, but he knew how right it was.

” Today, I’ll write. Not because someone asked me to, not because I’m forgotten or because I want to be. I don’t want to run away (Secretly, deeply maybe) or get drunk and lay but because I want to be.

Darkness is not evil, it could be a little scary though. I want to walk, and so my dear I’m taking it.

I want to walk, miles and miles without water, without food and books to read. Not because I despise them but because I want to know how it would be without the things I live by.

No money, no, not a penny!

On the dark roads, I’ll walk. My head held high, as though a crown had been bestowed to my head and destiny! Did you know as a little girl I always wanted to be a princess? When I’m a little too tired to go on, the street lights would shine upon me remind me of my destiny.

To walk, to walk and never look back. In the silence of that night, the roads would lead me to the forest. The grass and the animals.
All beings, breathing but sleeping. These days, all too restlessly.

The wind and me, childhood lovers. We’ve been there for quite long now. Let me walk, let me see what you’ve got for me. He plays with my hair, like the younger days of first kisses and romance. Those men had been so wrong and me so naive.  In the midst of my journey, I shall fall in love with the trees, handsome and tall. The branches all over, roots too. But their grandeur too, ends somewhere. We humans, the littlest beings forget that.
Their handsomeness with them, shall die to but not their fruit. They give on.

Here, I shall be admiring them, in awe of their majesty yet I must remember to move on.
You must walk past it, capture it but walk. Forward. Always.

Through the ferns and leaves, covered in dew and mist. I shall greet thee. Like old friends they would wave at me, not leaving their branch and yet spreading smiles. Glistening from the recent rain like an adorned bride, with a heavy heart I shall wave them goodbye. I meet now the mountains, grand and bold. Standing with pride as they do, they smirk in approval to my journey. I bow down in respect.

I see now a land. Mud, wet and fertile. So soft and feminine, like the womb of a mother.

She is a mother to the blooming world except you simply forgot. Let me just stay here for a little while. Ive walked too much. Heavy eyes, stars above my sight. So beautiful. My legs now tired from the journey. The visions, the sights.

Did I see the world enough? I asked my soul, he approved. Anything you’d want to say?

He said to me, I’m glad you din’t live the life I thought you would. You’re exactly where you should! You made me see, all that the world could be. I’m at peace now ! I lay on the wet bed of Mother Earth. The wind cuddling and embracing me. The trees admiring me. The ferns and leaves leaving their abode to fly to me. The mountains sending their blessings indeed.

I’m content, I’m complete.

My lovers and friends all here, the rest is history. I close my eyes, ask Mother Earth to take me in.
Now, my love I can say I’ve lived. The angels await.

Spring, shall be my funeral. The witness shall be you and the world.

Its a celebration! Of life not that which is gone but the one that lived! My lovers and friends were true indeed, stood by me till death did us apart.

With them, I had no papers, no bonds nor marriage or tags.
With them I had, love and purity.

We lived, so celebrate me as she dissolves me within herself and as I fly with the angels themselves. I’ll close my eyes. The walk is over; the destination was truly destined.

I lived, I walked. Found love and ecstasy; Now I must sleep. ”

From the gates of heaven,

xoxo

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A Mortal On An Immortal Bridge.

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“Is this your first breath there, or is it your last here?

Who has written your story? Do you know your story? “

I’ll put on a coat now, I’ll tell you stories now.

You could walk with me if you like or turn away

Either way is just fine.

Beneath my coat you won’t find a dress,

Because I’m a perfect mess.

My sweater and my jeans comfort me. Keep me warm.

On the banks of the river, I shall walk.

The trees are giving away,

The leaves now grow old, gracefully.

Red, as though the lord had put in a little bit of fire in them.

They shall burn, they shall give light.

All before they let go.

Of themselves, of forgetting their names.

Someone will take over, they have to.

The bridge will still stand, strong. People will walk.

The benches and public phones will stay.

They’ll always lead to the Eiffel.

Like the bridges in our life. They’ll lead us to where we belong.

Sit under that tree, oh! It’s beautiful.

“Linden”; It’s name.

Every step on that path shouts love and purity.

That’s how our lives should feel.

You, your loved one(s)

Happiness. Purity.

Beauty. Eternal love.

Sit on that bench,

Upon your head will you see, the tree smiling at you

Guarding you, protecting you

Like your innocence, and childhood.

As though it’s blessing you.

Its leaves the shape of a heart.

God’s the best writer,

You don’t have to have a private plane,

And you don’t have to have a grand wedding.

It’s all there.

Nature has it all, laid out for you.

Life’s not a burden, it’s not a game.

He sent you down, to be a part of him.

To marvel at his works of perfection,

The one we, mortals would never create.

Sit there, look at that river

Breathe.

Breathe the air that brings life

Not the one that causes cancer.

He may not be your soul mate,

He may not be your brother,

Not even your father.

She may not be your sister,

Maybe not your mother,

But embrace them,

Embrace them all.

Those who stand by you, hold their hand.

Take a while,

Walk with them.

Not in metro’s, not in the office, not on Skype

But in real life.

Feel the touch of human skin,

The supple creation, designed to comfort.

How does it feel?

To know you have the warmth on the cold winter night?

Maybe that’s why this road was made,

Probably why it was never the same.

Maybe the leaf of the tree over your head will eventually fall,

And tree will one day have new leaves,

But it will always.

Life goes on.

And it’s okay to sit there, pamper yourself

Let the tree and its leaves heal you,

To hold the hand of those you love,

Before your journey ends,

Till you reach your destination.

A Contrasting Malaise

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The smoke fills the air in the house, the ‘havan’ has just finished. It’s supposed to be a religious ceremony where all the negative energies in the house are collected, the god’s and goddesses are prayed to. They say that, during this ceremony there is even a time when they descend down for the ceremony’s completion and sent back. Where are they?

I want to see them. I want to see the negative energies in the house and in myself and I want to see them go. I want to see god take away all these negative energies. I want him to see that everybody is a mess.

Despite the circumstances, the beautiful colours, clothes, faces, exchanges of gifts and money; what really lies?

I want him to see.

I’ll hum a tune, and you’ll never know what song it is.

I’ll wait, wait till you’re done. So you’ll come back and smile.

But you won’t.

For that I have to let you go.

I’ll walk here, and you’ll walk there. I’ll smile.

They’ll tell me, it’s a beautiful smile. Is it now?

The one that can’t reach my eyes. The pain is strong, intoxicating almost. When it’s a part of you, it hurts. But slowly, like the stream of water seeping into something, It gets into every cell of my bloodstream.

Sometimes, rushes too!

Like poison in a mortals body, as though it’s counting seconds and longing to finally turn into a vampire because otherwise, it’s just painful. Then the remorse hits you. You howl, plead and scream. Hope. Hope that this seeping pain will either go away or fill itself completely. And slowly, it fills you. It fills you like a glass being filled by a jug. It has too much to give and you, too little to take. There are shivers at first, and then comes numbness. The wonderful gift, better than alcohol or anything else. The numbness loves you, and you love it.

Pain, hurts you. Numbness, calms you.

Somehow nothing that anyone says matters and you want to smile because you’re a mess but so is the world. You realized that sooner, much sooner that your friends have or they will.

I wish I could say, but hey who’ll listen? They all say they will.

They don’t.

If you’re reading this then you already know what pain is. It’s a happy high or a constant stab in the stomach. I want to look at my foot and touch it, feel it because I know it hurts.

I know that the car that ran over it, was heavy, I know that the tier as it rolled over my gentle skin of my foot hurt me.

But I won’t look at it, because it’ll make me realize; the stabbing pain.

 

The suffering that our body goes through. These unhealed wounds, incomplete desires of beauty, cuts, aches, and fractures are they anything compared to how really hurt we are or we have been?

Do you want me to tell you? I will, I promise to write them in flowery words or just plain reality. Will you cry and sympathise or leave it to say- “How unhappy.”

I Am. I’m unhappy. Discontented. Unsatisfied.

I wanted to be, now I’m crippled. Not permanently, temporarily. I don’t like how my sickness restricts me. The fact that I’m scared of going out or that everywhere I go, I look at every man and wonder if he’d manipulate, lie and rape.

 

So as these smokes, slowly creep into the molecules of the air

The ‘havan’

I’ll ask god to take away my pain too; this suffering and maybe he’ll listen.

With it maybe, he’ll also steal away the cause of this all.

 

Amen. 

 

My soul’s only muse.

You’re my soul’s only muse.

The years sprint through time as I hide my inner voice. “Don’t be crazy”; I say. My soul listens patiently. It whispers back to me,” Your heart that loves other men is only muscles contracting they will cease to beat eventually and your body that lusts will wrinkle you silly!”

I ignore like I always do. We have to enjoy life don’t we?

 ‘But I’m eternal, I belong to someone who’s a part of thee.’

 

You’re my souls only muse.

When my mind says it’s okay, and my heart approves, my soul denies. It doesn’t belong to me. Words like love at first sight, imprinting and soul mates sound insane in today’s day.

Yet, two souls belong, and people fall in love. Not the world’s love, the true love.

Soul’s love.

It can match no physical relation,

And no touching sensation,

When even miles away you know he’s yours to be.

Like your world revolves around only he.

When you’re tailor made for a reason,

To stick around every season…

I’m a dreamer and I won’t deny

You’re my soul’s only muse, I can’t lie.

Maybe I’m a bit too cheesy and a crazy romantic, but you bring light through the spectrum of life. I’ll  probably never be yours, yet I’ll always be.

You’re the prism of my soul, turn the white monotonousness into seven colours of life. My only source of light. I don’t want to make you mine, I’m already a part of you.  Sometimes it isn’t gravity it’s you other soul holding you.

God descends in many forms, for me it’s you. ‘Like my personal brand of heroine.’

Cared for me like my father would,

Held my hand like a friend should,

Blessed me as god could.

 

My muse. 🙂 

My Ten Year Old Angel

 

The more I believe in Angels

The more I see them all around me

In friends, family and acquaintances

It’s amazing how much goodness you can see

If only you believe.

I’d call her a little bomb . She’ll blow your mind with her comebacks and thrill you with her amazingly pure thoughts. A true balance.  Outspoken, brilliant, talented, adorable are just a few adjectives.  I’d love to call her a princess but for now she’s a tiny tom boy. Sometimes I see reflections of myself is her, the love for football and guy stuff, the dizziness towards shopping and girly things.Sister from another mother! Probably because we’ve been brought up around the same person!

Never the less,

She’s beautiful. Inside and out. Features of a beautiful woman peep through her face, and you can easily tell she’ll turn out to be a heart breaker of countless boys. A cascade of black hair which now are tied in a messy braid will soon come down styled to perfection. ( Honestly can’t wait to see her grow)

I first saw her when she was almost a baby. Even then she was capable of defeating anyone anywhere. Every time I speak to her it makes me think of the lord’s wonderful creations and perfections. How innocence can stick to true knowledge.

I may have many friends, but there’s always a special place for a few people.

What I love the most about her is the fact that every word comes right from the heart, because she’s still so pure and so innocent. The lord resides in each one of us, but in her he shines out.

 

She reminds me that  there’s still purity In the world, that beauty is precious and love is infinite.

 I thank him( god) for bringing  her in my life. And thank her for reminding me every day what gratitude feels like.

You’re a true angel. 

 

I Found Paradise In the Crippled Utopian World- I found god.

Image The vastness of the blue bodies, randomly painted with colours of green and white here are there.  My planet seems perfect.  A Utopian world of god, paradise.

Now anger rules the innocent heart, she hates herself for who she’s become. For who she’s turned into. Anger blames people around her but is that really the cause…?

 

Where every word is care, every hand held is faith, every feeling is love! The place where the trees don’t bow in weakness, birds don’t lie on the ground dead, the clouds are not black and water’s not purple.

(Colours are good, if they belong in the right place.)

 

Lot’s of doctor’s appointments, tests and medications. They say, symptoms of this and that.  She’s deaf to the words now.  Lot’s of research on what could be, but even the internet doesn’t answer anything for free. Lost.  Scared. Shattered. Where  should she really be?

 

In that world there are no curses, no devils, no hell.   For tell me who defines good and bad, who really chooses right and wrong?  It’s all relativity.

Where love resides,  all is good. Where faith stands, all is well.  Where I live, is heaven.  That  utopian world, is my home.

 

She often wants to run from her in capabilities ,  for the lost  strength, for the fear gained. Her outer shell is too egoistic, too self centered , too small, and too naïve. She curses herself day and night.

Now, outgrown for her mother’s lap

Distant from her father’s embrace

Stuck.  In the middle of nothing but a gamble of discouraging thoughts.

 

Man can now fly in the air like a bird, swim under the ocean like a fish, he can burrow into the ground like a mole. Now if only he could walk the earth like a man, this would be paradise.”

She weeps, with everything she see’s. Hatred, remorse , guilt, for no one but herself. There are help lines for all kinds of abuse but self abuse is probably the worst form. One part of her curses herself  for all the failures and the other consoles her. HA!  Nature’s ways…she thinks.

That world would be great, that world would fulfill dreams, everyone would live, laugh , play.. At the end of the day it would be nature’s way and say. Cascades of waterfalls, , winds, trees, grace, love, friendship, beauty, grass, birds, clouds, sun, thoughts, everything just everything perfect! And most of all smiles, lot’s and lot’s of smiles.

On the verge of the end, she decided she just couldn’t and wouldn’t stand in front of the world and it’s people because she wasn’t beautiful, because she was unworthy and selfish.

Because jealousy had taken it’s toll. Convinced with the fact that her fairy tale was just an ugly mess, she took a bottle of morphine…

 

Rays of light streamed into the corner where she sat.

Someone held her, tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked up and she knew some part of her longed for him.

(Bible :Isaiah 43:1  “Fear not: for I have redeemed you, I have called you by your name; you are mine”.)

Staring into his divine eyes, she knew she had found herself.

Giving her the comfort of a father

The lap of her mother

The hand of a friend

The love of a lover

Jesus stood, holding his child.

He whispered, this is your fairy tale, this is paradise, this is it.

From that day on she knew, that she had found her paradise in this crippled Utopian World, She had found God.

( Bible :John 3:16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him  should not perish but have eternal life”)

 

He to the she

Of all the miseries,

after all the sacrifices she makes,

and all the risks she takes.

After dating all the girls he could find,

all the craziness he tried

finally ties the knot of her heart and his mind!

Different worlds , different people.

For her he changes,

opens her fairytale pages

for which she always waited.

More than lust,

more than mere trust!

He’s a shoulder to lean,

the one to  wipe her tears.

whisper words of love and remove all her fears.

Adam and eve,

barbie and ben,

eternal love ? Or perfect ten?

Earth without water?

There’s he in she

Man in woman,

They are meant to be,

can’t you just see ?

Perfectly engineered to needs

to compensate for each other’s deeds.

He might be bold,

as the world is told.

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yet he cries his heart out in front of her,

tells her the deepest of secrets,

of all the evils he ever met.

She leans on his shoulder for peace

He seeks her lap for pain to cease

He’s a bread earner,

even though a table turner.

She makes his house a home,

or else every place would be just a rotten dome.

We all depend for our needs,

to fulfill our deeds.

There is no winner,

because no matter what together will come the dinner.

Without one,

the world is incomplete.

I too dream , this time just differently

Agha dreamed ,

of the ghat of his only world.

I too dream ,

to be free ,

to be able to see

A world different from what it is now

Dream of being away

Running like a horse in may

An elegant body ,

A charming soul.

between grape vines

ignoring all bondages and signs.

Just running ,

to the nearest paradise

in the midst of mountains,

rays falling upon me

for no reason but bliss and fun.

That’s only a dream

I have norms and goals to perceive

and expectations which I must meet and achieve.

there is no shelter or paradise

I’m running ,

but not with joy

For commandments of life are not as good as a cheese cake made of soy.Image