Monday, November 9, 2009

Objects of iridescent nacre

A lifeless colour thanks you:

For walking under indigo skies just before daybreak.
For waking me up from my relentless morning slumber, day after day after day.
For telling me I am lucky.
For listening patiently when I irritatingly complained about the state of my room at four in the morning.
For being so much like me and yet poles apart.
For believing in me when I didn't.
For telling me I can't have everything.
For always being there even though I wasn't, for you.
For liking me even though I make the same predictable mistakes over and over again.
For knowing the signal from the noise.
For being the most selfless person I have ever known.
For letting some of that selflessness rub off on me.
For allowing me to compliment myself while complimenting you.
For needing me too, once in a while.

And that's not the half of it.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

And suddenly sunny

Just like that.

I was wrong. Your words are capable of shaking me out of every misery. I love you, and that is about all there is to it.

Le sigh

Was I unsurprised? I shouldn't have been. Was I in my senses? I couldn't have been.

Dreams do come true. They momentarily shatter your reality. They don't allow you to enjoy perfect New York weather, instead making you curl up as if it is dark and windy outside.

Dreams do come true, and it is neither sparkling nor magical. Nothing, not even the spell you weave with words about being a gaijin can shake me out of my misery. It is like that time the Bombay local train ticket checker looked at me funny, not believing me when I said I really had lost my ticket and tearing a fine for Rs. 175. It made me go red in the face. Except this time I AM guilty, and no one caught me. My face is flushed warm and my hands are cold and I hate it. Funnily, I never thought this sort of thing could disturb me. I, who can neatly deconstruct a relationship, did not see this coming.

You know what my problem is? I (beep)ing* never see anything coming.

But I have a plan. This time, there will be no rewind and repeat, I promise.

(* Yes, even in my insanity, I do not lose sense of propriety - That's part of the plan. Cursing is for losers anyway.)