i found my love....

There was a prince in my mind through my teen years
from the books

the unconditional love
the silent walks
the wordless understanding
the complete devotion
the sense of security and warmth
the sense of being loved
the sense of giving love
i knew one day he would happen to me

as time passed by
my dream did not die
but the reality check began

i kept dreaming
but passing on the "i will find my love" concept to "next lifetime"

then,
she happened to me

i was besotted
she occupied my mind
i knew i occupied hers!

for no matter what
she understood the unsaid
her eyes would search for me in the room full of people
no pretty woman made it to her list
she never cheated on me
i was the love of her life
she cared sincerely
she cried when i cried
she knew exactly what hurt me
she sensed my sadness when i smiled
with her little hand she would hold my face
with her salivating lips she would seal a kiss of faith on me
we had a silent love
pure as white

i felt so complete
this was an awesome feeling

i had discovered what i lingered for so long
the true love

not in the form of prince - the man who would walk me through all the struggles
but, in the form of princess - the child who would be beside me on my deathbed

love had different dimensions
and this was the most divine and pure of all
i felt liberated from an incessant search of sufi love

i was lucky
i would always be her ONLY love...!

the gypsy and the desert...

i had not a penny then
i was a free bird
no cares in the world
no fear to lose my wealth
no anxiety of saving for bills

i flew like Livingston seagull
flew for the sake of flying
high up in the sky
experimenting with my dives
i had no care for the impression i would create on the other birds
i did not care

i danced with the cloud
i sang
i painted
i laughed
i talked to the wind
i dreamt
i was the undisputed princess of the world so beautiful, honest and white

then i grew up

started working for my living
paying my bills
felt the fear of valuables i gathered
i was anxious
i cared
i could not experiment with the dive
i would be cast out of the group
labelled a rebel
stoned to death

i forgot
to dance
to laugh
to dream

the gypsy soul
couched and restrained in my mind
i walked through the desert
looking at the seagulls flying high up in the sky
carrying the dead me on my shoulder

i was a conformist now

once upon a time...

i scribble this story today for reasons i don't know.. it has left a dent in my psyche and might keep haunting me for all my life .... sometimes it surfaces very strongly on my being and so i chose to jot it down here

i read it long back in a series from Reader's Digest or Chicken Soup for soul (not very sure which one)

this story has haunted me since the time i read it, i howled then, i howl now... and everytime i think of it i feel deeply disturbed

.............................................................................................

A little boy had a mother with only ONE eye. he was really embarassed when she would come visiting him in the school. one day he came home and shouted at his mother - he did not want her visiting him in the school because she had only ONE eye and he was embarassed of her

Time flew

He grew up and like any natural progression dissociated himself with his mother and settled down in a new place. he was still embarassed of her ONE eye

one day his mother died

He came back for her funeral

SHE had left a letter for him (written down here - but not verbatim)

My dear son,

when you were little, you met with an accident and lost your ONE eye. as a mother i could not bear the thought that you would live your life with only one eye. so i gave my eye to you. i am sorry for being an embarassment to you

......................................................................................

i scribble it today for i know that all the mothers give their one eye to their children in forms not very known or clear as this story ... wonder how the children translate it ???........

salsa with the camera...

 ok..i wanted to experiment further to see if the camera still captures my energy....the photographs are processes in Picasa....subject of the shoot is boring but the experimentation is not....:)

My angel in oil.....

well... this was long due... after a long churning period i had to pick up my brush and do what i was longing to do for quite some time now..

i am not a pro..so the strokes are crude...used only one layer of oil paint since i do not have the patience as of now to wait and apply the second layer!

i know that the grey/black strokes should have been softer not killing the innocence of the face..but i did not know how to make them more soft...might put another layer on it to make it more subtle after a week or so....



Cool Coorg...We had a blast!!!

 

our time together

my angel and me decided to have a blast and we had a private photo-shoot on our terrace with my simple digicam.. some of them are processed on picasa... :)