Challenged

She looked ruefully at the unforgiving sky -- believing, yet disbelieving. She felt like a smile. She felt like a cry. It had happened. Like he had said it would, leaving her wondering if it was all real.

***
He got into bed quietly. A warmth spread across his body as he wistfully replayed snatches from the conversation they had had. I just want to hear you breathe, she had said. Sometimes Hope is cruel, yet he hoped.

To stand on the shore and look as the river passed him by, or to plunge into it, had been the question. He had decided to lose himself. He had decided to gift his dreams to the night, so that she would see them in the morning.

The digits on the LED clock glowed in the dark, reminding him of the morrow and the mundane.

He didn't want to sleep. But he wanted sleep like never before.

He didn't want to dream. But he wanted dreams like never before.

He didn't want to wake up. But he wanted to wake up like never before.

He felt her words in the cold draught that had somehow slipped into his room -- just like her.

He felt her words in the soothing darkness that lay around him -- just like her.

He felt her words echo in the memory of all the days that he had gone sleepless.

He closed his eyes, and heard her coy voice again, with the pain hidden so well, he had almost missed it.

He wondered if she was the mystery that he didn't want to solve.

He wondered if she was the wave that would take him out to sea and never bring him back.

He wondered if she was the woman he had never dared to put down in words, scared of tempting Fate.

He wondered if she was his past come alive to be moulded into his future.

He wondered at how she was everything he was and yet everything he wasn't.

He wondered if this was how it felt to be weak, to be vindicated, to be Alive.

He wondered if eye-shadow could be more enrapturing, silence more resonant, pain more poetic.

He saw her in the playful darkness -- pleading at him to explore.

He could see her in the dissolving shadows -- waiting for him to throw light her way.

He saw her in the demure streaks of sunlight -- brilliant and pristine, so full of Life.

He could see her in the rain, in the lightning -- revealing, hiding.

He fell asleep, dreaming of dreaming about her.

***

She looked ruefully at the unforgiving sky -- believing, yet disbelieving. She would await his dreams in the morning.

Waiting

Clouds confer,
Their demeanour grave,
Their heads heavy,
As they ponder
Thoughts of rain.

Umbrellas unfurl,
Their faces eager with colour,
Their owners pensive,
Anticipating,
Summer's first rain.

Trees tremble,
Their manner changes,
Their leaves whisper
Tales and secrets
Of rain and afterwards.

Pen poised,
Paper ready to wet,
Words in abeyance,
I await
The rain on my window.

-------------------------------

It's been raining ever since I came here, and like any water-starved native of Chennai, I'm loving it.

-------------------------------

It happened to me: The you-wait-all-day-to-talk-with-'someone'-and-then-when-the-moment-arrives-you're-tongue-tied thing - Damn!

Rollercoaster

My days so far...

Today - 7 June

Today was perfect. Just perfect.

As in rain washed morning, drippy trees perfect.
As in woke up before the alarm clock woke me up perfect.
As in couldn't wait to catch the train to office perfect.
As in the traffic just stayed at home perfect.
As in drowned myself in the silence of my work perfect.
As in the radio kept playing my favourite songs perfect.
As in a smile stayed on my lips all day perfect.
As in solved the crossword perfect.

As in wanted to run till my lungs burst perfect.
As in wanted to make everyone around me happy perfect.
As in write that book I always wanted to perfect.
As in wanted to go on a sailing holiday perfect.
As in wanted to be nowhere else, doing nothing else but this perfect.
As in happy for every moment I was alive perfect.
As in wouldn't have mattered if I died just like that perfect.

A perfect day. And I lived it well.

Yesterday - 6 June

Yesterday was a rotten day. Really rotten.

As in gray skies, murky weather rotten.
As in plane couldn't have landed more roughly rotten.
As in nobody came to pick me up rotten.
As in the taxi driver couldn't keep his mouth shut rotten.
As in didn't have enough local currency rotten.
As in all the money changers were closed, public holiday rotten.
As in had to adjust and eat soggy noodles on my first day rotten.
As in jet lag, no sleep on the flight, work tomorrow rotten.

As in didn't want to answer any phone calls rotten.
As in wanted to hang from the nearest tree rotten.
As in I could write a book about my day rotten.
As in wish I was on a sailing holiday rotten.
As in wanted to be somewhere else, doing anything but this rotten.
As in cursing every moment I was alive rotten.
As in wouldn't have mattered if I died just like that rotten.

Rotten day. But I lived it well.