The Monday Entry

When you stand with the milk in your hand in front of the
open almirah instead of fridge you should know that there is something
distracting your mind. When the entire movie gets over in front of your eyes
without you knowing what was the story, you know someone else was in your mind.
When you cant remember why you have come to the store, or realize after
drinking the entire cup of tea that it was without sugar, or keep on changing
channels without watching a single channel, you very well know that you are in
love.

What is love? Is it winning someone all for yourself? Is it
the feeling of being seen around with someone? Is it just spending intimate
time with someone? Is it enjoying taking to someone? Or is it something more?
Something different? Maybe its all about connecting? Connecting with someone
not just on physical plane, but also on emotional and intellectual plane. It’s
the confidence that you not only love offering the shoulder to but also know
that you will get one when you need.
It’s the feeling that makes you offer your bossom when someone wants
your shoulder. It’s the feeling that someone will listen to you even when you
don’t feel like talking, someone speaking just the same line that you were
about to utter.

Its not about having someone but feeling someone’s presence.
At times you know that particular someone might not be with you – ever! Still
you keep on feeling the same feeling, over and over again. At times the lump
stuck in your throat, at times pain in your chest. Still once you know that the
particular someone is happy somewhere, you feel calm joy, and keep praying for
the person’s continual happiness. That’s love for me… revisiting?
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Some people were interested in knowing whether it was just
as much as I wrote in Kolkata. Well it was what I wrote and a bit more. It was
a time when I was supposed to match imagination with reality. It was time to
transform the scratches on the canvas into a painting. The painting was made,
but not on the scratches made earlier. The canvas was same, but the painting
was new.

On the night out, the faces were new, but the atmosphere age
old. Where the fun was streaming, sparks of emotions all around. Somewhere on
the course the sparks caught up. The eyes were trying to see inside, beyond the
walls. Somewhere downstream in the flow of time, came a tide, a wave and the
moisture gushed. Why does paths cross long after they should have? Is it just
to tell that those paths exist? And if they exist there’s a chance that they
might meet again? Not to cross and go away, but to meet and be one?

It was a trip where I not only charged my batteries, not
only smelled the past; but also to forge new ties, also to treasure new
fragrances and to paint new dreams. Dreams that might be my only support for
the years to come…

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A hot breath on your lips
A kiss without a touch
So near yet so far
Reaching out with hearts open

A hug from the other side of the wall
So near yet so far
Knowing the darkest corners of heart
Dreams and wishes stuck to ceiling

So near yet so far
Spinning a web to cross
Hoping for a ladder to climb
To reach the dream one day,
A dream today – so near yet so far!