The verbose night

The skies clear
To let the moon
Be your guide
Through your journey
Wavy as the tide

The sun’s down
As clarity dawns
Clear as the crystals
Only the ones that shine

The path clears
‘Midst the mist of time
As you emerge
Scarred and scathed

“Follow the path”
Says the night
“Follow till you can’t anymore.
Follow till you reach that light”

“There shan’t ever be any
Reason to cry.
And no reason
To question why you smile”

“Follow the path child, for it is bright.
But Not as bright
As the soul you shall be
Near the light.”

“Leave the worries
Cast away the fright.
Follow the light, child
For it’s the darkest night”

Imperfectly perfect

Something I wrote for someone I felt some things, some time back –
(A few things would be probably a little personal; but hey,what the hell.)

Qualities scrutinised
Quirks that are perfectly good
Every person has some
& So do you…

But now that I think about them
I can recall none
I speculate as to why
And the answer dawns, clear as the sun

Hard to believe it might be
Seeing how I have strayed from this Frequently & Unabashedly
But I wish I could explain

How to my four lenses
You are the embodiment
Of a creature truly magnificent

Not perfect, mind you.
Not a square block
But a piece of a puzzle
One I’d be lucky to solve

From the net balance of your beauty
In my head that I have,
Your minuses you have helped subtract
And positives you have helped add!

& Yes,

Differences we have had
And fights we have fought
Yet I wouldn’t give up our imperfection
For all the peace in the world

I wish at times
I could be more perfect
More compatible
More compassionate

Yet there’s an echo in my head
One I heard from a planet massive Be what you are
Cos that would be perfect! 🙂

When do _you_ wanna die?

The following post is inspired as a response to yet another brilliant blog by the brilliant duo at waitbutwhy. The link is down below. If you are still here, do go check it out first. Worth the click and the 10 minute read!

http://waitbutwhy.com/table/how-long-would-you-live-if-you-could-choose-any-number-of-years

TL;DR – Self-preservation is not my strongest instinct.

I say choose a mortal life. Good enough for me to have to live a normal one, to have to fall in abnormal love, and to have kids and to explore the super-normal world. Plus, since superpowers are not hashed out in the dealio, there is not much to look forward to in those extended life spans. Also, no kids is not quite ideal. And who would want to see everyone around them die? It’d be like that cool guy from “The Man from Earth”. I came off feeling a little sad for him. Dunno if sad would be the right word though. Guy had some adventures! Anywho, I digress; From all the morbidity and all those deaths. . . . I mean, most of the people I know that I really care about (parents, most family, most friends) will not choose to live forever. A life without people I care about right now and those that I won’t be allowed to bring to existence anytime in the future seems drab and, quite like Professor Oldman, lonely.

Frankly, a lifespan longer than our current average seems.. sub-optimal. If we aren’t already lazy bums who won’t even enjoy a sunny day to sleep in so that we can enjoy the starry night getting drunk indoors, is there even a point to giving us the free time to waste away more of it? Personally, a longer life span would make me lazier. If a college group project deadline extension can cause a complete loss of self-respect through a night of self-indulgence in front of a laptop screen (Ah, innuendos) with a groggy hangover the morning after and a helping of self-hate, one can only imagine the carnage if I enter an infinite number on that calci. *shudders*

I think I’d rather enjoy & learn things as much as I can, keeping in mind that there’s an expiry date on my head. It might just keep all that excess lethargy at bay.

Plus, the no-kids is a deal breaker. I didn’t know this till some time back, but I am very fond of kids related to me. The “you-won’t-be-able-to-commit-suicide” is a problem that a good friend pointed out in one of his opinions (quite conspicuously using “you” instead of “I”….) but the “you-won’t-have-kids-ever” seems much more severe. Not being close enough to either of those thoughts in my head at the moment, I guess my opinion is molded by me having thought much more often about the latter in the past than the former. Upon my showing my friends pictures of my adorable, bubbly niece, they took no time in pointing out the “paternal instincts” I apparently have to my blinded self. I do want to have kids of my own someday. I would definitely like to be a father, and part some wisdom and gain some. If I choose to enter in an age, I could adopt, but that poor child is not very likely to have been given the choice of a calculator, is he? I’d have to see my own kid die in front of me and as Murph rightly tells Cooper “No parent should have to watch their child die”. Nope; mortality has its charms.

It does seem a little selfish too. All living and no death makes Jack a resource-guzzling vampire! He sucks the blood out of the life force of the earth. Think about it this way – If everyone in the world were to choose “infinity” as the age they want to live to, they’d be continuing the human species through themselves. They would be the frontier of our race. They would be bored as hell too, of course. Not the best representatives (or would they be?) of our glorious humankind.

This is, surely, an extremely extreme scenario. Look at another milder one. If, say, everyone does choose an age (other than infinity) it would imply they will live upto a certain age and die off. No procreation, no kids. No more humans. It would be the end of a species who has fought tooth and nail and has become (no matter however destructively) the apex of the food chain. We have as a species done some shit, no doubt. But, we have also done some good things to slightly redeem ourselves in the eyes of our future generations. Bereaving ourselves of the opportunity to earn some more forgiveness and, for once, to give back, seems unfair to everyone. We would be the last generation. We would be the last ones of our species to ever walk this earth. Period…

Then again, these are scenarios when everyone has been made to choose that calculator to make themselves live. But, how about the case where some do and some do not fix a date with death? In my view, it’s a trade-off at the end of the day. You either live through yourself or you live through the generations you will spawn after you. It’s a simple choice, i guess. Personally, I am more inclined towards the latter. A life that nature has provided generously enough, and one that it shall take away when my time’s up. Some things are better left out of one’s control, I say.

Do leave your response to the question posed on the brilliant link. Doesn’t matter if it’s in the comments below, in the comments on their page, in your own personal blogs. If it has made you think, it was more than worth it.

The Royal Ramble

How strange it is to look at two people and feel bad. You have nothing to go on, but the illusion of happiness on their part. No underlying asset, just an inflated bubble based solely on the biased, hopeful expectations of the only two investors involved in the seemingly happy illusion.

And how strange to look at this happiness and feel bad, to feel guilt and in times of desperation and momentary lapses of holding it all together – regret and remorse. It is no crime really to be single, yet why do i feel like a criminal? Why do i feel like i am being treated unjustly by society at large and my facebook feed in particular?

Why isn’t it that singledom receive as much adulation as the opposite? Why not pat someone on the back when they explore themselves by looking inside rather than through projecting themselves onto a person and making him/her responsible for helping them out? Why can’t we just form pacts that say “Well, we are sorted. At least sorted enough. I’m willing to work on my issues on my own; could use a hand though. Hope yours is steady and strong. Would you like mine?” and just ……

And why is this so difficult? Why does being in a relationship require so much effort and energy and passion and compassion and love and trust and honesty and courtesy and mannerisms and pretenses and secrets and hatred and tension and fights….. And love….

And yet the moment you are out of one and are convinced that an autogamous relationship is the one for you, the thoughts pop right back up? Aren’t babies smarter than us then? Granted they won’t listen to you when you “tell” them the stove is hot, but once they have had egos shot down by the scalding burns, they learn and they remember; they evolve. So if we still don’t “learn”, and yet somehow we have managed to evolve as a species – despite this clear lack of knowledge transference from HR downstairs to the big guy up top – must there be an answer?

Could it be then that –
a) we are not evolving &
b) we “are” learning.
Examples for (a) abound of course. You see them daily – in offices you work in, in music videos, on TV,  in the streets where you drive, in cars while you cross the road, in your head. Let’s just put that aside for a second and attribute the above tirade to personal experiences and a general bias and superiority complex that a certain someone might have. *ahem*

Assuming, we are *cough* evolving *cough*, we are left with option (b). So what do we really learn then? We learn that we are not compatible with a certain type of person. We learn that it won’t work out with them. We learn (or convince ourselves) that there are many many different varieties out there. “One of them must be my size after all! Lemme try a few.”

And of course, while such go getters go ahead and, well, get (?), lazy rambling writers get nowhere with their philosophies seeing that they are lazy, rambling, pathologically curious, philosophical, mind numbingly recalcitrant, grandiloquently pompous show-offs. Condemned to be extinct – Save a writer, you know what to do.

The Ideal

I’d like to go on the ideal date once. Mine would be simple.

I make arrangements for dinner in a black-tie restaurant at 8. I show up early, dressed as immaculately as conceivable to me, wearing that favourite tie that she likes so much. I wait for her a little; she is a little busy with her work life nowadays, what with a big promotion coming her way! Ambition has its costs, after all.

She arrives at 8.15, dressed in something I had bought for her as a birthday present. A red evening gown. She looks drop dead gorgeous. I had imagined she would, fantasized about this moment when I first see her in the dress, over & over, but no figment of imagination matched what I was seeing right in front of me. As the patron leads her towards our table, she catches my gaze, and her face lights up. That smile. I get up without a second thought, walk towards her, hold her hand and we walk towards the table as one. I pull up the chair, she gets seated, and I am yet to take my eyes off her.

I can tell though that she is tired, slightly exhausted even. This is not going to be a night where she has to exert herself, I want to make it a special one for her. I have already pre-ordered a meal for her, all her favourites, right from the Ravioli to the Sauvignon Blanc. One by one, it all arrives and we look hungrily, at the food, & at each other. It’s been some time.

We dig in, eating dignifiedly, calmly, yet with a stormy fire raging between our eyes. I remember well the last night we had together. It was good like it has always been. But, there was something off. And I knew what. Her work keeping her busy, her life goals, her future achievements coming temporarily in the way of happiness for her. But I wanted to make it better for her. She deserved some peace, God knows she did. This was going to be a special night for her, I had promised myself, and that was one promise I was planning on keeping to the very end.

I excuse myself for a minute, breaking off the searing glares between us, reluctantly, but necessarily. I have a call to make…

I get back and we finish up our meals, share a dessert. Things get strangely heated when she starts licking off the spoon, slowly, seductively, and with a knowing stare, and a minx-y smile on her lips. I manage a smile, a pull of the tie, a nervous pull-back-my-hair & a clearing of my parched throat. “Today, we drink”, I assure my thirst, a coy smile on my lips too.

We finish up with the dessert, have ourselves a toast, each imagining what the night seems to have in store for us. We make our way to the entrance and there stands a limo driver, ready to take us someplace special. She beams at me, hugs me, refrains from the kiss, mindful that it would overpower us. Patience has its charm too.

We get in, hand-in-hand and she lays her head on my shoulder. A tender, sweet gesture. I reciprocate. It feels like less of passion, more of innocence. She sweetly whispers into my ear, “Thank you for tonight, honey”, smiles and pecks me on the cheek. But I am still not done, and I keep smiling ear-to-ear.

We get off at our apartment building, a lonely place this time of the night, and we proceed to our flat, hand-in-hand, the passion re-igniting, second by second, step-by-step. But just as she is about to insert the key in the lock, I pull her away for a passionate kiss, right in the hallway. It lasts. Long. I break away after a few minutes, both of us pausing for breath, yet eager for more. But ‘tis not over yet, my darling, I keep repeating in my head.

Against her slight protests, I lead her to the terrace. It’s a full moon out tonight and the skies have always been beautiful this time of the year. The stars beam, the moon shines, but none come close to the glow I see on her face. I haven’t seen her this relaxed and calm in quite some time. I derive quite a lot of pleasure from this, just holding her in my arms and looking with her into the sky, into the depths of the universe, yet coming back again & again to see the serenity of her expressions. Her closed eyes, pursed lips and conspicuously calm breathing make for good gazing after all.

I hug her tight, never wanting this moment to end. Never wanting to let go. She loosens my grip, turns towards me, gazes right into my eyes. And right then, I know. I lean in slowly, knowingly, and she reciprocates. Our lips touch, caress. Not strong like lust would demand, but sweet and innocuous. Like the first kiss you might have with someone, when passion and lust haven’t yet sullied its childlike and pure emotion. We stay there, lips glued, minds boggled, bodies tingling, for what seems to be an eternity. An “I love you” passes between our lips. Love, the emotion we feel for each other. There is no need for words to express it. Feels like music to the ears however. And our embrace tightens. It’s been so long after all, but patience has its charm.

We break away and that coy expression is back on her face again. It’s going to be a long, long night…