I look at you and wonder who you are. Who are you when you are alone at night? When there is no one beside you. When emptiness fills the room and the only sound is the whirring fan. I wonder what crosses your mind as you close your eyes and drift into sleep. I yearn to uncover your last thought, to discover its essence - to discriminate between that which signifies fear and loneliness or that which beams of achievement and pride. Do you hold onto something when you sleep or let it all go? Are you a dreamer or do you find dreams wasteful?
When you partition yourself from all your appearances and devices and pretenses and identifications, are you still beautiful? Are you still recognizable? Or do you become a little bit of everyone? If I could exist around you then, without altering you, would you still seem daunting and mystical? Would you be your first self - the child? Or would you be covered up in years of heartbreak and deceit and restrain?
Most people in your world are content with knowing who you are, as you portray yourself. To me, thats only a minuscule fragment of your being. I want to dissect and intersect and question and understand you in every flutter, eyebrow raise, sigh, moan, gasp, shriek..
I wish to transcend and intrude the spaces in your identity - the gaps that define you. I crave to fully articulate your differences. I long to perceive you so intensely that your reactions become obvious, your intentions become predictable and your needs surmountable.
Longing /yearning for someone and that someone knowing about the same is a blessing and as well as can turn out to be a sin in the present time, its such a mystery of a feeling that spreads like a fragrance as well as grows like wings of a bird, i wish each one in this complicated world has a such admirer/ lover that meaning of living life leads to spreading happiness and pampering the ones around :)}
ReplyDeleteAre you longing for a coffee as well?? I already miss you..a self proclaimed relationship Is what this looks like from the outset , as if I meet you somewhere in my dreams..Your face not clear yet I can sketch you..I reach out to touch you..and the moment I get there, "whoosh" its all gone! I find myself surrounded by the same old things cluttered around me..that's how much I long for you, even in my dreams!
ReplyDeleteLove you
Yours truly
Sahil... you write in very long sentences. As they say in Punjabi, "saah charh gayaa mainu"..... but you've expressed a wonderful sentiment nevertheless.
ReplyDeleteAnL
Zoya, any effort to observe always alters what's being observed. It is true in physics (a la Heisenberg), and it is true in Life. Anthropology is hard to begin with; it is nearly impossible when you are involved.
ReplyDeleteWhen I read your blog, it really seems to me that is written ABOUT you (it just happens to be written... BY you as well)
AnL
"quote"
ReplyDeleteNothing goes as planned.
You were an accident.
A chance, a mistake.
If I could, I would redo
I would erase the mischance,
I would rewind to our day.
Everything will change.
Nothing will stay the same.
You & I will move on.
Maybe I will hold your hand.
Maybe I will kiss you goodbye.
Maybe you will stay.
"Unquote"
Her thoughts cloud my judgement
ReplyDeleteHer presence usually unfolds each secrets of my heart
Just her eyes are enough to dissect n intersect my thoughts
But a mere noise of a tear drop, wraps me up again
It may not always be past wounds but it certainly is the feared tomorrow
Making me throw tantrums as a decoy from what I essentially feel.
And yet
Every time I think of the moment where the hour glass froze..
The blood rushing to grab her hand n the muscles numb to understand
Was a moment of clarity; to give up all for one
Was also a moment of reality; to pull away from what could be us as one
To her who I seek for yrs today is the one who I hide away from
Is she an observer "here to understand me" or is she a participant "with me to live it along"
An observer looks at the specimen from a distance, its way, its need n its greed.
Can she keep away or maintain the distance; dreaming, sympathizing and pitying
Or would she share ordeals, anger, some love and majority of the cloudy judgement that I have lived with for all the yrs
Is it her childish curiousness to know me? and will her thirst quench if I become an available book she could read?
Or does she desire to hold my hand? can she live with the mess, the brimming emotions and pain ? what if she comes crashing like others; wishing she never opted to learn about "ME".
Maybe she's just Ambitious? To deck up the overflowing closet and make it sorted and her way.
Not so disguised initials
Well said, old friend.
ReplyDelete5-D
Sahil... Thank you for always reading
ReplyDeleteAnL.. You are right.. A lot of the posts are about me and I like to keep the readers guessing! I hate that you can't observe humans the way you can observe science.
5-D.. Thank you. But isn't it high time you reveal your identity :)
Not so disguised... I always love it when my writing motivates someone to write something.