The Urge!

It's back.
The urge.
The same urge.

The urge to look into your eyes.
The urge to hold you once more.

The urge to feel your hand on the small of my back, pulling me closer.
The urge to feel your lips on my neck.

The urge to kiss you.
The urge to have what cannot be had.

The urge that kills me.

If only I could fly to you right now.

Clarity... or Lack of it!

My previous blog was full of outrage.

Fueled by a sense of unfathomable betrayal.

Probably, based on a belief that telling someone you love them, somehow makes a difference.

It gets you the right to be directly informed.

It makes you deserve that much.

Apparently,it doesn't.

Only madmen in love can nourish such romantic notion.

The timing is so atrocious.

The moment I gather myself and shards of my heart.

The moment I decide to distance myself, he has to come back.

He has to leave a word.

A formal greeting.

A word so deprived of emotion, it feels disrespectful.

Disrespectful, and fouler than an abuse.

Like spit in the face.

Like alms so petty, they offend a beggar.

It is like he mocks my love.

Or his knowledge of it.

Yet, I wait for that one pitiful word.

Wait with eager anticipation.

Wait, till it brings the disappointment of its bland notion.

Yet, I love him, over the other who loves me so truly.

Am I so blindly ungrateful?

There is nothing I appreciate more than my unparalleled fortune in what I already have.

Then why are my affections so divided?

Is it the allure of that which is beyond reach?

At least, the question is clear now. 

In time, the answer may present itself too.

Until then...

Interpreting Silence!... What a mess?

Everything I posted so far, I kept impersonal.
Derived from so deep in the heart or so far in the past that it has a surreal distance from me.
Like it was someone else's story.

Today I must talk of something so recent that it can't be separated from reality.
Cannot be draped in any veil of comfort.

I told him I love him and I would leave everything for him.
It was too early to let him know but it was my only chance.

I asked for five minutes to hold him because something inside me knew he was too good to stay.

He didn't give me those five minutes.
He gave me a song and went silent.

I needed one answer.
He wouldn't even let me ask the question.

I kept banging at the door.
He let me know he was there but he wouldn't make a sound.

The song could have meant anything.
His silence could have meant anything.

Did it mean he didn't feel the way I felt?
Did it mean it just wasn't right?
Did it mean anything at all?
What? 
What did it mean?

I kept telling myself that it was I who came on too hard.
That the silence could only mean he loved me not.
And it looked like it.
He removed all trace of me.
Even as I watched.

So I tried to keep up my best face.
I believed he moved on.
So I tried to make myself believe I moved on.

Then he shows up with this girl.
So much of me in her, from the trinket she wears to the words she used.

Now.. what do I make of the silence?
Am I reading into it because I feel jealous?
I must be jealous but something else is bothering me more.

What's wrong with boys?
Why don't they say it to your face?

It will hurt much less to know the truth than to keep guessing.
A man can't read a woman's mind but so is true for women.
Women can't read minds too.

Why don't you go lose yourself Jad?
Why don't you say it out loud?
Even now, why don't you?

How long till I am free of you?
How long till I can move on?

How long till this noisy silence lasts?

A Moment of Truth...

Missing someone.
So deeply, it feels like the heart may rip from the chest.

Want to see once more.
Want to hear once more.
Want once more.

Go to the website to listen to a song.
The song that plays in the background.
The background of the video.
The only video posted since leaving.

The video is now private.
Just like every photograph.
Like every tag.

How private?


Does the privacy endorse its truth?
What does it mean?


Fear? 
Of what?
Escape? 
From where?
Denial? 
What was to be accepted or denied?

An unpleasant truth does not change by closing the eyes to its existence.

The truth remains.
The heart remains.
The heartache remains.


Like it will rip the heart out of the chest.

Like Before...

Someone told me a few months back, "You'll go back home and everything will be like before."

Took those words and kept them in my heart.
Worked so hard to see them come true.

Tried. 
Really tried.
And then tried some more.
And every time looked around to see if everything was like before.


Never happened.

How can it ever be if a part of your soul is changed?
If your heart has been touched?
If you have known the change and let it know that you know?

Life happens and we walk away.


Try to walk away...  
But can we?

Every past moment was different.
Every passing moment is changing.
Every moment that will pass will change.

It can never be like before.
However much you say it or want to believe it.

It can never be like before.

Que Importa... What does it Matter?

What's so important?
Is there anything so important?

Ultimately. No.

There comes a moment when the realization dawns that Life is, in fact, just a moment.
A moment in the passing of innumerable more.

The only moment that is real is the present moment.
The moment gone, never retrieved.

The moment coming, becomes present even as we think of it.

No reality except that minuscule iota of time that's Now.
All that we think is Real is merely our Brain telling us it is.

Then what does it matter?
Why get tied down with attachments?
Why get torn down by loss?
Why celebrate or mourn a moment?

The moment is passed.
The next has come.

Let nothing stop you.
Move on.

Love.
Live.

Love and Pain

Love. Pain.
Contradictory.

Yet the subject of more songs in any language than any other perhaps.
Why? One wonders.

Why is pain universally associated with love?


Pain is not born out of Love.
It is the child of attachment.
Of desires.
Of expectations.
Of trying to hold on too tightly.
Of the need to be seen by the loved one.


Pain is not woven into the fabric of Love.
It is woven into the fabric of human nature.


We don't love to love.
We love to possess. 
To conquer. 


We want to conveniently label our associations of convenience as Love.
We are merchants looking for returns on our goods.
When our goods bear no profit, it hurts.
If they bring returns, the thought of losing it hurts.
If we lose it, the loss hurts.


Love is not a business. 
If it is a business, there is only give no take.
Love only gives immense bliss.
It only gives the soul a taste of the divine.
It takes nothing. 
It adds. Never subtracts.

Feel Love like appreciating the beauty of a butterfly.
A butterfly looks the most beautiful flying among the flowers whose colors complement those of its wings. 
Catching a butterfly merely rubs off its delicate scales and brings it harm.
The moment we start thinking of chasing it to catch it, we stop enjoying its beauty.


Relax.
Lay back.
Become one with the flowers in the garden.


Let the butterfly come to you and when it does, don't try to keep it there.
If you have the nectar it needs, it will stay.
If it doesn't, still rejoice in the beauty of its flight.


Let love be a Rise not a Fall.