I am not happy these days. The reason? I dont know.
In a couple of days i will be 30. It's supposed to be the saddest day for some. But, i have no feelings.
Technically, its the intermission in anyone's life. For what's the point of living past 60 anyway. But I am sure that's not the reason why I am not happy.
I have always kept myself behind a wall. Never wrote anything that has got anything to do with my state of mind.
I have no friends. I chose it to be this way. I dont regret this one bit.
Dont think I regret anything that I did or wanted to do.
This is the first time I am writing something that I am feeling. This is about me. And this is my blog. If you dont want to read then buzz off.
I feel I am a stranger to myself. Are their any particular characteristics that make me? Some people, close to me, would like to say yes. But do they really know? Are they sure? I feel everyone can only have an opinion. A perception. A derivate. A version of the truth. But there has to be a truth.
I have known myself only through some people's thoughts. Rather versions/perceptions about me. But dont know how far they hold good.
I dont know what a person thinks of me, when he/she meets me for the first time. I dont think i care for that. But that would help me know myself.
Dont know what makes me happy. Dont know what makes me sad. Dont know when was the last time I was so excited that I could have jumped off the terrace. Dont know what makes a man.
I dont understand relationships. I dont know what it takes to make/break them. I dont understand people. I think all relationships are made on the basis of right and wrong. And everyone has a perception about it anyway. And universally, no two perceptions ever match.
I have felt strong love. And strong hatred. I think in some cases strong love changing into strong hatred and vice versa too. Emotions become so strong sometimes that they create a blur.
But right now, I am definitely not going through any such emotional blur.
I say all I wanted to do in life was make money. Dont know if that was true. I dont think I ever had an ambition.
Now, just before the intermission of my life, I realize I dont know anything about myself. I am thinking so much about myself that i think I am selfish. Selfish people love themselves.
But if you cant love your yourself, then how will you know 'love' or love anyone else.
Its a difficult state of mind, this. I have questions. I want clarity. I want to see life, like everyone else does. I dont want to be different. I want to be 'run of the mill'. I want to be common, regular.
I want to be happy.
Anyone can say that I should look beyond 'myself'. I think you define everything around you, on the basis of what you are. I dont see a foundation, in that case.
Its unrest. Its sad. I am not happy. The reason? I dont know.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Scar
The scar on his upper lip had stood the test of time.
It had survived close to 348 close shaves. Some from the contaminated razors from the road side salons. Some from the electric shaver.
It no longer looked like a scar. It was just a line. Dividing the time into two unequal parts. Pre & post.
But this is not really about the scar.
Last night when he had kissed her, she had been a little wilder than usual. She had bit his upper lip lightly. The scar was quiet used to the odd-flavored lipstick, not the hard calcium of the teeth. She had noticed him cringe a bit, but continued to caress his lips with hers. When he had cringed one more time is when she got a little angry.
She had pulled away, almost immediately. She had never really got along well with the scar. She always got judgmental about people who thought scars were sexy.
He had realized it was the cringe. It was the scar.
He took his fingers to the scar. In a moment he recollected, frame by frame, its birth and youth.
He saw her tracing her fingers, seductively, over it. Then slowly taking his lower lip between her teeth.
He knew she, like everyone else, found scars sexy.
The first time she felt him cringe, she had smiled, rather wickedly. She felt she was stronger. But the seductive smile somehow justified all the stares the scar had got him. He could kill for that one smile.
He felt how the worst things lead to the best. He felt angry - why did people blame him, laugh at him for something that was a leftover from an accident, something that was not his doing. But she saved his faith in humanity.
Ha ha ha ha. faith in humanity... ha ha ha ha.
How corny was that. Tonight she was coming home again. What would she be wearing?
She was wearing a black dress, with a steel grey shrug, to cover her naked shoulders. They kissed the moment she was in the living room, door closed behind her.
The shrug off... hands on naked shoulders... trying to slide the straps off them... lips quenching their thirst.
It was when she took the scar, between her teeth, slowly, almost unknowingly, between her teeth. Everything, in a flash, became unreal. Blurred.
He slowly opened his eyes, looked at her, from the corner of his eye, her eyes were still closed.
Time stood still.
She was wearing a black dress, with a steel grey shrug, to cover her naked shoulders when she came. He was almost dying to take her in his arms and kiss her hard. To him, she didnt seem that eager.
She closed the door behind her and almost instantly kissed him. Hard and wet. Shrug off... hands on naked shoulders... trying to slide the straps off them... lips quenching their thirst.
This was the first time he actually felt the warmth of the tongue on the scar. The surprise made him cringe, yet again. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
Crying is so corny... he thought. She really had begun to find the scar sexy.
The kiss lasted forever... the tears too. She tasted the salt from his tears. Opened one eye, smiled.
He was looking at the moon, lying alone in bed. The room was still smelling of her. The sheets were still a little wet with their sweat. He could still feel her soft hair, against his shoulders, her well groomed fingernails digging into his navel. He again heard her say - I love you. Also say - we might not meet again. Ever.
He cried again. This time alone.
Now there will be a new division in time. There will be a new 'Pre' and a new 'Post'. A new test of time had begun.
It had survived close to 348 close shaves. Some from the contaminated razors from the road side salons. Some from the electric shaver.
It no longer looked like a scar. It was just a line. Dividing the time into two unequal parts. Pre & post.
But this is not really about the scar.
Last night when he had kissed her, she had been a little wilder than usual. She had bit his upper lip lightly. The scar was quiet used to the odd-flavored lipstick, not the hard calcium of the teeth. She had noticed him cringe a bit, but continued to caress his lips with hers. When he had cringed one more time is when she got a little angry.
She had pulled away, almost immediately. She had never really got along well with the scar. She always got judgmental about people who thought scars were sexy.
He had realized it was the cringe. It was the scar.
He took his fingers to the scar. In a moment he recollected, frame by frame, its birth and youth.
He saw her tracing her fingers, seductively, over it. Then slowly taking his lower lip between her teeth.
He knew she, like everyone else, found scars sexy.
The first time she felt him cringe, she had smiled, rather wickedly. She felt she was stronger. But the seductive smile somehow justified all the stares the scar had got him. He could kill for that one smile.
He felt how the worst things lead to the best. He felt angry - why did people blame him, laugh at him for something that was a leftover from an accident, something that was not his doing. But she saved his faith in humanity.
Ha ha ha ha. faith in humanity... ha ha ha ha.
How corny was that. Tonight she was coming home again. What would she be wearing?
She was wearing a black dress, with a steel grey shrug, to cover her naked shoulders. They kissed the moment she was in the living room, door closed behind her.
The shrug off... hands on naked shoulders... trying to slide the straps off them... lips quenching their thirst.
It was when she took the scar, between her teeth, slowly, almost unknowingly, between her teeth. Everything, in a flash, became unreal. Blurred.
He slowly opened his eyes, looked at her, from the corner of his eye, her eyes were still closed.
Time stood still.
She was wearing a black dress, with a steel grey shrug, to cover her naked shoulders when she came. He was almost dying to take her in his arms and kiss her hard. To him, she didnt seem that eager.
She closed the door behind her and almost instantly kissed him. Hard and wet. Shrug off... hands on naked shoulders... trying to slide the straps off them... lips quenching their thirst.
This was the first time he actually felt the warmth of the tongue on the scar. The surprise made him cringe, yet again. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
Crying is so corny... he thought. She really had begun to find the scar sexy.
The kiss lasted forever... the tears too. She tasted the salt from his tears. Opened one eye, smiled.
He was looking at the moon, lying alone in bed. The room was still smelling of her. The sheets were still a little wet with their sweat. He could still feel her soft hair, against his shoulders, her well groomed fingernails digging into his navel. He again heard her say - I love you. Also say - we might not meet again. Ever.
He cried again. This time alone.
Now there will be a new division in time. There will be a new 'Pre' and a new 'Post'. A new test of time had begun.
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