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...

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.

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.