Saturday, October 11, 2014

The silence after rain

Clouds withered in some rainy lamentations.  Universe draining out its stories in every water molecules of the earth, the evening appeared to be more meditative than before.  The silence after rain. It reminded me that I am on the lap of a woman, whom I lusted to every pore of her body. Lusted.  But never loved. The woman, whose words were little profound than her thoughts.   

There was a divine silence after her every speech.  That fine interval between her thought process and utterance.  In the silence after her words, I found the intensity of Universe. I found the Heaven and Earth, the continents floating in between Oceans, the woods leading to dry lands, the cities turning graveyards and all its philosophical burials. The  glory and lamentation of one whole generation, it contained.

There was a kind of insanity she placed in between every spell of her speeches. Sometimes it was sudden and rigorous.  Other times, it was slow and uneven.  The beautiful gap between her words. In that space, I found myself.   The insane me. My prejudices. My ego and attitude. Everything was within them. I was the man who chased her to the psychiatric chambers to discover peace.  The prison bars from where she mastered this art of speaking in silence of words. Her words might be silver but her silence was always golden.  She loved me.  And I never did.  

But sooner, I knew that I was falling for her silence. It never felt to be a full blown love.  I liked it when she kept quite. Without uttering any word.  Just keeping her 'other part of the self' deeply immersed in my  thoughts.  Her gaze. The silence thrown out from the beautiful corners of her eye and the first tear droplet, it produced. The intensity of its molecules.  The senseless words and the deep evocative meanings it made in silence. Everything was beautiful. Life made more meaning in its intervals. 

She waited for the day I fell for her fully with all my senses and soul. I lusted to her words. I loved its silence. My lust was never a full blown love.  I fell for her silence but never her speech. She continued waiting. And I continued my lust. But, never a full blown love. And, one fine afternoon in the silence of an unexpected rain when she stopped all the talking and stayed calm in her eternal silence, I fell for her completely. Wit the feelings of one lifetime into a love ‘full blown love’ as I said it always, I became her. Her eloquent silence. I never heard her after that. Where will she be now??

Saturday, October 4, 2014


And when the two women had fallen for the same man, the world called them rivals. Those were not mere fascinations but close to perfect affairs. Everyone around asked, if it happened simultaneously. But who can say a ‘no’?  The two women believed and disbelieved it be so. When ‘X’ believed, the ‘Y’ disbelieved. And when ‘Y’ believed, the poor ‘X’ had plenty of disbelief. However, man being in the center of field was attracted to both the unlike poles like a bar magnet. There was only a thin line of boundary between being in love, disagreements, heart aches, patch ups, reunion and love makings to both the women. Both thought that they ruled his heart. But his heart had attained freedom beyond the boundaries of their rules. They governed him.  And he ungoverned. So sometimes, the three; two women and their man in between formed a perfect triangle. 

Both the women must have been similar somehow, somewhere. They might be certainly different. The two repulsive poles, those were made attractive because of the single magnet. But each time he gets to both, there must be certain common traits that pull him close. The woman, ‘X’ was so submissive inside while the woman ‘Y’ was much dominant. ‘X’ was very much feminine in beauty while ‘Y’ appealed him with her nature of character.  But once undressed, both the women appeared to be same. They behaved alike on bed. Both aroused him.The same softness, bouncy pounds of skin, the thin line between the breasts and waist, the artistic curves of their hips. Sometimes the hugging arms. Other times, the resting shoulders. Both lusted to his soul but neither could reach that point. He switched his roles between the two women. He loved both and unloved them. The colorless chameleon, he was. Sometimes, a male chauvinist...

Sometimes the middle of the triangle disappeared. The man.  It was like, he was there but he was not there. And the triangle became a well defined straight line. A diminishing point. Blurred out, it was. And when the man vanished, X and Y lusted for each other. The truth bites bitter. Both never loved the man. The fonder they grew upon the man, the stronger they loved each other. Both flaunted to get the attention of each other through man as the center point. Sometimes they were second-self. Sometimes they were alter-egos. Sometimes they were bad omens. But most of the times, they were in love - may be lesbians or something similar to that sort.
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