Some Love it is

Some love it is she thought to stay put for the longest time.

It is a winner, a true winner, to have forever faced roadblocks and to have been alive and kicking.

Forever it has faced obstacles, one too many first the diffidence in her, then the search for words, then the fear of inadequacy, then the succumbing to pressures,then his being taciturn but inspite of her many efforts to forget, it has lived within and grown consuming her heart and soul and growing in her a desire a deep yearning to hold him, to care for him, to love him.

For years, for decades, it reached out to her in dreams of floating clouds every single night and even during the day sometimes as a sudden flash that often made her look vain.

Many times in the morning as she woke up she looked to him or the feeling of him next to her that felt so real and true that it either left her elated through out the day or feeling low.

But she has never missed him as much because her feeling of him is so real that it gives her strength and courage.

She goes on with her work and keeps the smile bright on her face.

People tell her so many things, I thought you are so & so because you are so positive.

The truth is it is him or the thoughts of him that held her through.

It is strange since when have they interacted so much.

In fact she told herself for a long time like amma told her that he is younger and she is older and she will grow ugly and he will not like her…. and that scared her into marriage literally…

later she told herself that he is hi-fi party, that his likes and dislikes are not like hers…

then she thought of going to a psychiatrist thinking it is a fantasy for the unattainable that drives her so much

recently though it is becoming very clear to her it is just love for his soul, for him as he is…however he is that is holding her

She keeps a smile always… even tried to talk to a few guys …..but it tires her and she knows for sure that is not for her

She just needs him in her circle of life

If not she said he can give her some solid reason as to how he is immensely happy in his life and how he is not keen to change anything.Like you know, hear it from the horses mouth.

Why he never ever felt anything for her

and that he is tired very tired of her efforts to reach out.

They say one should love and be with those who love you immensely.

She said that she is not sure of his love but of hers to him there is no doubt

and she knows that she is equally deserving of love so there is hope in her love.

As she sits waiting for his call or message she has not moved from near her phone.

Some may call her foolish or impractical and what not but to tell the truth when death walks in what excuse will she have for not giving her best for a life worth living.

will her soul not regret it

she is clear that she does not want that to happen

not because there was no effort, no care, no attempt, no reaching out

maybe then she and him will walk together

maybe they will watch films together

and they may sip a drink

maybe then she will write maybe not

maybe he will read aloud

and sleep or utter those monosyllables

and she could simply watch him sleep and be happy

Sometimes life is a searching for purposes

Sometimes nothing holds the faith in self

The hostility of bhks

Empty spaces sit happily in old homes as verandhas or steps, unmeasured spaces of comfort, of sunlight and breeze, with windows to look out and corners to hide or just laze around.

Here and there are the nooks and little holes for love, a pillar waiting for an embrace or a shoulder to rest on it, a mix of brick red and black and small undulations in the kitchen instead of the ‘so called aesthetics of optimum usage of space and cleanly cut corners ‘ of modern houses where staying beyond some time is painful for the visitor..

Small easy chairs and large ones sleeping through days and nights and waking with a start as a back slides into them quietly sharing its meditation of the evening sun or the lizard on the wall.

Where the little open spaces outside had a mango tree or a tulasi waiting for its evening lamp and a hope of peeping into the conversations of bums resting on its small house.

so what is with the clinical spaces of the cozy homes that grow on top of each other and forget to love one another or remember that they exist in a single cluster of many little spaces that the earth and sky lent them with the breeze and the birds that want to visit them.

Some times when I think of the skies that I see from my 2 BHK here in North Bangalore , I think of how much my dad loves sitting outside in my previous home, even though the road is right there, and there is dust with many vehicles passing by.

While me and my daughter stay in all day, every day, when mom and dad come, all doors are open, the folding chair is next to the scooter with a newspaper folded casually, with enough scope for many hellos and hais.

In fact after their morning bath both amma and achan in their morning freshness sit out and chat or are there when I come back to greet and welcome.

While riding back home on the scooter fearful often of the huge vehicles that whiz by I suddenly noticed the many small holes in which we live, or so it looks from a distance where there is no space for guests or warmth of sitting in a row sipping coffee with the evening sun hovering around, no little ants making away with precious food or a millipede inching to its home, or even a happy butterfly which decides to rest on your back a little.

Have you not noticed how anything and everything easily becomes a space hoarder in a flat and how you become intolerant of the space it takes?