Sunday, October 24, 2010

My little boy

 I looked at him lay beside me.All his face muscles relaxed and a chest so smooth. His ruffled hair and closed eyes made me run my hand through the silkiness of his face and hair. I could see him smile. It seems like he is in the middle of an intense dream where there was a chance just to smile and nothing else. It seemed like god was playing Lego blocks with him and he beat god with a more massive and intricate structure. It was a smile of triumph and acknowledgement of being let, to win. Like the smile of a three-year old boy who thinks he is the strongest in the world as he beats his father in a game. He didn't know the truth behind his victory: the  selfish satisfaction of the father wanting to see his son win. The smile of a kid. That's all that was wanted.Yet,beyond all this, you know the boy'll melt in his mother's arms and embrace her surrendering himself fully to her. Like he did, in my warmth. That's all I saw.. A little boy. 

      Perhaps that's exactly what made me love him. The little boy that I saw in a wannabe man.Mirth danced in his eyes, evidently.. he had a risqué manner of speech..Still like an event that never happened,  the first time we both met. I didn't know who he was.. We spoke in the full freedom of being strangers sharing a conversation. He was of a different class.. of a different world and different ideas. Outsiders saw two radically different people connected by one word: frivolity. Odd that I started liking him I've never had a crush on any guy who resorts to annoying habits I so detest. I never did. But he caught me somewhere. It was an incursion which stayed in fragments in the heart of mine so lonely. Like the little boy who kissed the stranger's cheek, I as the passing woman sat down on my knees to cuddle the bubbly kid. 

    I was still in the warmth of my bed, Unable to get up as he would be awoken from his encounter with the Angel of Smiles, I lay still, looking at his baby face. The smile wandered back and forth from his mouth and into the thin curves of his cheeks. He lay right there holding my hand tight, still sleeping... smiling...
       .... like a little tot that clings to its mother's clothes, my man, held me in his arms.
I went back a little on time and thought of all the eons that he made me smile. Starry-eyed he was, of hot chicks, a prankster,an imp.. The jolt in me that struck me every single time he spoke to her., the days of jealousy and envy. 
It was a feeling that I stuffed inside me. All that I needed to brighten my day was to see his sparkling face just once.. fooling around and teasing everyone. Kid-like antics, I tell you!

           The feral guy, so cherubic... with horns and a tail as well. Boyish charms. That's where he caught me. Yet over the few of our years together, I've seen a man growing. I see it when we go out alone, a protective force all around me.. I see it when another man looks at me. Yet, when it's just me and him, I fail to place the man anywhere, I can see just the little lad. Just the same little boy of enormous guts who walked up to me in the middle of a large gathering and asked me if I liked him in front of so many of my peers! I still remember the cheers that faded out as I walked out of there. What a day it was! 

I lay and thought of it all. Saw my life go in front of my eyes. I saw those tears, ego and love blinding me. I saw the past,present and future. As they were, as they are and as I wished it to be, with him. He amazed me. With the way he talked, the way his face carried a look of obliteration about me liking him or not, the wide shine of his ardency that left me with the blank feeling of emptiness that I didn't know what to do with... everything about him. It just left me stunned. He seemed like a magical being to me. Yet, like every other human, he did grow sad and angry. As a matter of fact, he possessed the emotional level of a kid. On extreme scales of happiness, sorrow, temper and tantrums... He jumped like a monkey from one to another. But, it is adorable to look at him through it all.. For whatever may a toddler do, he is always looked at  with a feeling of extreme love and adoration.  

     Thinking about it all, questions of what, why, when,who and how never were answered when put as a question to ask me about him... He just walked in and pushed everyone else out!
And when I agreed in the pool of tears I had shed that I loved him too, after months of denial and pretension, for I could take it no longer, He just smiled. The same mischievous, impish smile that made me look at him, twice in a huge crowd of people. The same smile of the little boy who steals another's chocolates.. His clean sweep, pride and elation, all behind that one smile as he embraced me to be his...

         I turned around to look at him staring at me, wide-eyed, into my eyes. Still in the covers of my thoughts, I smiled, looking at that boy... who still looked the same.. as I whispered," Good morning.. You seemed to be very amused in that dream of yours! what did you see?"
He mocked my look and asked if I really wanted to know.. As I gave a nod, he said...
   " I saw a little lass, my dear.. A tiny little one that grew possessive of me..A girl drowning in jealousy as I spoke to another.. I saw the girl I so love.. The small kid whose heart I nearly shattered before I could make her love me too, the little girl that i wooed,. and the girl who said a "yes" to me...She is a little girl, my dear who makes me smile.. 
The beautiful little girl who I know is a woman, 
yet to me, who will always remain to be a child!"

I closed my eyes and slept on him as he stroked my hair, with a peaceful smile of knowing... 

~ Hemu 

Monday, October 11, 2010

Unrealized Smiles, tears and thoughts! The beauty of it!!!

Why do babies smile in their dreams? What do they see? I set this up as my status on Facebook and received a few interesting feedback. One being a belief that god plays with the babies in their dreams, and hence they smile.
          It sounded magical to me.. Probably even true, who knows! There something nice about little things, not very true.. but highly inspiring. It seems very obvious that God wouldn't come in our dreams to play with us, I just wonder why! Did God come in our dreams when we were young? I got no clue. Seems like a distant part of you, doest it? Childhood?!
   We flip through old photos and realize how cute we looked back then. We listen to our parents and relatives relate our antics in detail.. Making us feel like we were the most mischievous kid ever on earth, and hey! THAT is taken as a compliment...Now! you feel happy about it don't you? 
  Probably the only time when we think, yet don't realize the value of our thoughts. Why? We were not trained to think if our thoughts are right or wrong?! We just think, blurt it out loud, sleep, cry and smile. No worries, no tensions.. We didn't create any of it for ourselves.
   The purest stage of mankind when we posed for a photo, yet never knew we did, never worried about how  we looked when it was taken.,nor did we bother when we were showed the photo in a couple of weeks. It was innocence, taking us over, inside out. 
  That's the best part about being a kid.. Being able to say what you think about people without bothering about their reactions("Oh Aunty, I think you look as fat as an elephant!"), not having to lie("Hi uncle, Dad asks me to say he is not at home"), smiling or crying whenever you feel like-both being equally adored...
    I can only wish now that I could remember whatever it was, my line of thoughts... whether God really did play with me in my dream.. or if I just smiled for no reason at all... The most brilliant part of all this is the unstirred innocence, purity and the beauty of it. Living at that particular moment to the fullest, not even realizing what it was that made us happy or sad back then, and not having to worry about the future. Past, or future, it doesn't stay or get created in the memory..
  Coz If it did, we would have strangled its beauty! 

Saturday, October 9, 2010


In an unprecedented place she stood, 
with the wind blowing against her face..
curly locks dancing with the wind
and small eyes that played with the crimson rays..
that fell with a silent touch on her
Illuminating the rock she stood on,
girl that she was, saw the world 
which from its bounty, 
showed her the way to love and life.
Not holding back with any reins..
like a wild horse, venturing into the unknown lands and hearts, all alone.
Without a caution or doubt,she smiled.
A genuine smile that seemed to melt people's heart...
All that was seen behind those rosy lips were happiness and innocence...
Talking without fear and radiating fierce goodness
a journey she had, 
trusting all, on her way.. Not realizing hurt,
through lovely roads of fresh meadows, colourful flowers and serene settings.
As she grew, her thoughts grew.So did, ideas, inhibitions and fear.
Doubt of receiving true love, scared to express the affection and care within
for the fear of being rejected or laughed at,
drove her to extended hours of silent tears.
Swallowed tears they were, of the self, never reaching the earth
or another's hands...
The same path she lead now too,as that of the girl, but with a little sorrow behind her smile
and a fear in the unknown terrains..
that gripped her through lonely roads of mysterious ways.
A woman now.,
scared to break free, those locks of love.
For the wrath and fear of disappointment,
she refused. She held herself tight, just to herself..
which she won't throughout
She saw, beyond those dark and shadowed trees of never ending heights, 
there lay a path waiting to be tread on..
But with an air of unknown silence..
soon to be crossed.
With someone who'll break her heart and love her still...
A clear ringing sound of laughter would fly through the skies..
the laughter of her own self, just rediscovered.


Wednesday, October 6, 2010

The black stallion that I never owned

Wandering as a child through the crowded field of yellow popies,
I looked at that which I had yearned for,
throughout the thirteen years of my life...
The black stallion.
The black stallion that I never owned.
He was just a few months old, with a black mane and a furry tail..He was black.
I went near him, searching all around for a person who would claim him..
I found none, as it was only him that I had seen and could SEE..
A black horse in the midst of a yellow field, He was just the dream I had seen.
The black love.. with the colour of my eyes,
a mother's love, and the reassuring stride of a father's strength,
that which I liked to have..
For, I had none but that beauty of my dreams..
I reached out my hand to touch his pink nose and feel the silk of his coat,
With the perfection combination of everything, he stood there..
As though waiting for me to hold him, speak to him, take care of him, ride him.. and to love him.
Perhaps like me.
With a soft nudge he caught my thoughts in its tracks and gave me a loving look..
It looked like he was smiling, his teeth was white..
As white as the pale moon that runs behind dark clouds...
He was perfect.
He was my dream come true.
At last, I've a black stallion. I could see him everywhere.
In my sleep, when I roam, and when I dont get to see those who bore me...
I just looked at his gaze, following it.. Paradise. Being with Him..
I was about to mount on him and feel the breeze that he could've offered...
I wanted to feel the flight on his back, with the wind seeing through me.. beyond all physical obstructions..
I felt the necessity of his presence.. for seeing me and the blunt emotions inside.
I felt through his black mane and got ready to gallop with him through the gay yellows,
full of happpiness, speed and the blowing skies,
Right when the yellow suddenly hit my eyes like a spear does a life..
And there I was lying on the dead field that cracked right down, without a sprout.. parched.
I turned around for Him, he wasn't there.
Like always, I go near him and he disappears.
HE, my wind, the black stallion that I never owned.

~ In search of the black stallion.

~ Hemu
(this piece, originally written on a train journey:
23/5/2008 )