Thodi Raagam !!!

My humble prayers to Isis for showering me with good words
to write down my suffering. It is the only way I can have it
shared.

I am not afraid of joining the Fight Club. It is the interval between now, every now, and the moment I become a part of it. Until then, I know her exotic long hair will sway over my face. Yet I have not seen her face. I know I will be hypnotised like every time by the fragrance and touch of her soft skin. I know I have to be with her.......without her !!!

I fantasize her - passionately and widly. Her long black hair is smooth and flows like silk. Every time it flows over my face, I let go myself. My coarse hands shiver, losing their skill, when they trace her soft skin. Anytime I close my eyes, I see us always embraced - holding her softly like a proposing flower. She whipers in my ear with a smile wanting something. Her voice echoes inside me. At times, I have found it hard to distinguish if I am thinking or hearing. I can spare time and life if I could lay for more time beside her. It is the green(est) plains and I lay beside her caressing, while she smiles at the sky. That is her diplomatic way of provoking me. The soft breeze carries the fresh dew and they fall undisturbed on her lips. I touch her lips, they are cold and soft. I kiss them..............with my eyes closed; they overflow with tears. It is like a revelation of life. There is nothing but nothingness all around us. And there we lay frozen ............with our lips in conversation.

I am being tormented without her. It is a suffering - thinking about her, being engaged with her all time and not knowing if she is just a dream. I wonder why are dreams called so ? To me, it does not matter whether dreams happen. I am convinced if they elate me to the heights I dream of. So I treat them very real. Yet I am in the dream world. I could not make explicable meaning of these fantansies. These fantasies are a manifestation of a much great emotion inside me. Truly.......it is LUST. I could not find any other way to express it. If lust is sin, so be it; I am already suffering the punishment. Perhaps, my suffering will heal if spoken than written. And any way I try, my words are not going to sound poetic and genuine for a consoling pat. They sure may sound unorthodox and vulgar, and I am afraid of my suffering being ignored juvenile when shared. But pathetic.......I am an orphaned friend. So my fantasies shall remain as troubling thoughts inside me.

There are two kinds of men - those who give more love and those who always want more love. To be either of the two, I need HER. I realise that the Fight Club is an excuse, an escape, an inscrutable reflection of my sadness over missing her. And these fantasies are an evidence. Until the day, she comes out of the dream to my arms, I shall keep writing elegies of my unrequited longing. I shall write of the sleepless nights I sleep with her, the caressing, the momentary blood clots that my coarse hands make on her tender body. I shall write words wounded by the fragrance of her breadth. I shall write to discharge the unbearable suffocation. I cannot endure to have it all left unsaid.

Until the day I unite with her, I am cursed to bear the heat. I am cursed with lust. Hence, I wander......Ohh 'MY LOVE', where art thou ?