The diary of a girl

Given below are the poems and notes from the diary of a girl. A girl who suddenly arrived in my life. And was gone with the ease with which she had arrived. Just like you have a lovely drizzle suddenly wetting you, then gone. There is a beauty in such arrival; there is still beauty in such departure. The little space in between measures eternity. Through unconditional love, not the needy love that we are acquainted with. 

As I tried to regain my footing in the almost labor-intensive world of the publishing industry, after civil services and business ventures having gone wrong, nothing to show off, high on academics, having spent my entire life in books, and a few years then in business, here I stood almost at the level of average graduates the struggling publishing houses of Delhi NCR.

And one winter night, the girl, about twelve years younger to me, arrives. It was a cold December night. In pink woolens, very fair-coloured, high boots, loveliest smile. I stayed in a poor locality to save on rent, and she was class, elegance, style and modernity symbolized to the last curve of her charming presence—a real head-turner.

There she approaches without any circuitous coquetry that you typically see in females. Even if they desire you, they will take the indirect path, ultimately forcing the men to take the lead and ultimately get all the credit and later the blame for having built up that relationship. That's natural, actually, because man himself has been doing so many negative and aggressive things regarding our softer but equally capable part of humanity, that is, womenfolk.

She told me that she had been in love with me since she was thirteen, a fan of my poems, which she avidly read on my blogs. She had heard a lot about me. Her father knew my father, and she had seen me two, three times as a girl growing up with the dreams and vision of the purity of love that she thought was coming through my poems.

And then, for a decade, we were out of connection. There was hardly any clue about what was happening in each other's lives. 

She got married very early, I think just at the age of nineteen, and that was the forced arranged marriage, I suppose, by her family—because she was so beautiful, and they thought that in a conservative society it might bring problems. She was daring, gutsy, not reserved at all, and there was always a line of boys and men pursuing her. So, in order to avoid any eventuality of scandalous kind, they married her off, but it was just like putting her into imprisonment.

She had talent. She had deep emotions, a good mind, a vast heart, and her husband was a normal, average, rich guy. Within a year, she became a mother to a boy. But, as was inevitable, that narrow domestic confine would never ever hold her like a prisoner, and she escaped.

She left everything—the comfort and millions of rupees of her husband and his family. Her own family also almost discarded her. So she was all on her own, surviving in this big, bad world, and she has been paying a big cost for having grabbed her share of freedom.

On a chilly winter night, she arrives in my life, at my modest room, and comes and approaches and kisses, and in natural surrender, evolving, telling me the truth that the idea of love in her young heart germinated in my form through my poetry when she was a very young girl of thirteen. And now, ten years after that, she just finds it almost natural to find me in her arms. It was destined to be, she said. 

I was a bruised soldier from the battle fields of civil services and business in Africa, so it was a wonderful feeling to have her around. Her sweet presence lasted for about six months. She wasn't intrusive at all. I felt here was a girl who would totally surrender to a man but still would stay completely unpossessed by him; and won't possess the man from her side as well. Just a state of meditative being in the loops and folds of unqualified, unending love. An open love without the costumes of roles, responsibilities, expectations and needs. A naked slice of truth, raw, natural, cosmic, not something manmade. 

The girl, without any cleverness to manipulate a man, or sharpness or shrewdness to manage or control a man to meet her ends, to fulfil her needs; just like the natural flow of a wild stream. A wild river, I called her.

And those moments with her, in the entire ecstatic broadness of intimacy, generated some of the most wonderful passionate poetry during that phase in my life. I had faced so many failures in my life, and she, always embracing with her fully expressed love, appeared like a cushion support. An all-embracing entity. 

She arrived like a beautiful spring full of flowers—flowers fragrant, lovely-coloured, cool breeze—enough to make me forget about the wounds and bruises of life.

No expectations from either side, no plan. We just enjoyed each other's presence, just like two free shapes of clouds travelling in an azure sky, coming to touch each other, slowly, gently merging into each other, acquiring a big mixed shape of pleasure, love, ecstasy, joy and happiness.

Then the natural winds.

And both of us simply drifted away, moving on with altered shapes, which was the proof of being in each other's presence. An evolution.

No grudges, no blame, no quarrel. She was too soft to speak even a single harsh word. She could just smile. 

So the girl was gone, leaving behind her diary—a diary containing her poems. 

The Diary, a repository of her young heart. 

And again, for more than a decade, she would be gone, without giving a feeling of heartbreak or pain to me, seeking her freedom, paying a big cost of condemnation, jealousy, judgments by mainstream society with its chains and check-dams.

Then after a decade on her mysterious path, she suddenly drops a message through email.

I met her on the banks of Ganga Ma. A flower that has seen the hoary blizzards and storms but is still full of freedom, smile and beauty. Fiercely independent and free in her loving softness. She has grown to be a highly evolved spiritual being. The raw love is polished by the furnace of life. It seeps through her majestic presence. 

It was a wonderful day of coffee at a table overlooking Ganga Ma, walks on her majestic banks, visits to bookshops where I gifted her books, talks about life sitting near the holy stream. A beautiful sharing of each other's presence. A mystical, platonic feeling.

We both know we have gone too far on our own paths, so accept it with grace and dignity. Our distinct lives have been shaped too forcefully.

There she walks, giving even foreigners pangs of jealousy and desire with her majestic style and standout beauty and lofty bearing. And after a wonderful day on the holy banks, there she gives a gentle kiss on the side of my neck and again melts away on her path. I don't look back as I take leave of her. There is no pain, just fulfillment. 

We don't pursue or disturb each other. Just sometimes drop messages when some faint nostalgic push connects a thread.

And to make it evident how deeply in love she had been with my poetry, I can see a couple of my poems in her personal diary, where she outpours her innermost feelings; feeling so close to the emotions in my poems as to present them so near to her own poems. Most importantly, the words become your own if you connect to them so intimately. 

Of course, when you connect to something with such deep authenticity, they are your own words.

And these are her poems.

Oh Lord; I wanna cry
cry my heart out.
Is it the world or thy
on whom I wanna shout.
Overwhelming ecstasy of the moment
has shaken the swooning heart
And left behind the fountain of pain
Though.
It was a threatening thunder
Yet I thought love was about to rain.
Thy shower all the fragrance
on this poor creature in terrain.
Happiness although departed,
not to return
Yet left behind the stream of
this painful remembrance
Me a mystic on thy path.
a salvation they say.
This heaving heart of mine.
long kept captured but preserved
wants to break the cage now
and dissolve in divine river.

——— ◇ ———

"Dead sea are they
drowned is man in
Modernity and archaic old.
making them immortal.
Shrinks world today
with deadly spasms
Its small size not a sign of human
but a stone-like
exploiting dead society
useless is human real; for few new heights
As centuries tread away 

man becomes more
inhuman & intolerant.

Yes only hope lay in tolerance divine,
The thing humane most, able to do good all."

——— ◇ ———

“Chance to survive lie
not so in modernity
As in a human real
Intolerant is not which
like a machine, emotionless.”

——— ◇ ———

“There are crushed hearts;
not to be broken.
Mine me think is one
Else I would not wake & weep.
when you to slumber gone”.

Narrow is the lane of love
two exists not.
When I was the Lord was not.
Now he is, I am not.

“It's a rare delight
in lonely nights.
whispering to my love
and hearing replies.”

“Mind you oh gust of wind
Dare, if you ruffle the locks of
my beloved”

——— ◇ ———

Security is mere a superstition,
one cannot consent to creep,
when one has the consent to
soar.

Drop the mind that thinks in
prose,
Revive another kind of mind
that thinks in poetry
Put aside all your expertise in
syllogism
Because heart is closer to
mysteries.

——— ◇ ———

OH. my child I miss you
Every day I miss you even
more. Just thinking of the
time you were in me.
You made me feel what
they say life inside life.
Each day you grew more
and made me feel enlightened
In my womb's warmth,
were you, making me feel
the urge of love to live.
To live my life with you, for you.
Your kicks in my womb.
entangled me with happiness.
What ever I do you were
in me, saying MOM I care.
Slowly & gradually came the
day, of beautiful pain ever.
The pain of happiness I
must say.
And here I see you.
OH! So beautiful it was.

——— ◇ ———

Love although a body of lies.
Knowing it now, my heart smiles.
Was it never love, or just
it was attraction, so called lust.
In just a phase, I had felt.
lost in love, my heart had melt.
Now knowing the truth, I am surprised
the beliefs were fake, I have realised.
my deeds I thought were sins invincible
Penance and austerities now the principle
of getting off this suppressed old soul
to rejuvenate in life being the goal
Now when life laughed at me
the love in air has now flee.

——— ◇ ———

Poor heart is mourning a lot.
words now are helping me not.
Oh! the rain of love
where are you residing.

——— ◇ ———

If you have a friend treat
him with care, you'll know
his worth when you see his
empty chair.

We have limited time on earth
and once departed shall return
no more.

He who felt greatest misery can
feel the greatest happiness.

And by and by my soul
returned to me, and answered
I, myself am heaven and
hell.

Death is not an event in life
we do not experience death.

——— ◇ ———

Never seek to tell your love
love that never told can be,
for the gentle wind does move
silently & invisibly.

The wise world should look into
your moon & mock you

The secrets of eternity neither you
know, nor I. And this
riddled letter neither you read!

Difficult now to shed tears of
blood; no more strength in the
heart to bleed.

Sleep & bliss comes easy to
him in whose arms lies
your tresses

——— ◇ ———

Seeing her I became
cheerful, she thinks the patient
is well.

The secrets of our life,
are like the leaves of the book
our friends can but read only
the title

It's a rare delight in lonely
nights, whispering to my love
and hearing replies.

Enough have I seen of this
earthly show; Prosper you my
friend, I depart for home

My restless heart unleashed a
storm, its wailing raised a
doom-like din.

——— ◇ ———

She won't be beauty conscious
Nor I conscious of Love
Such of joy of innocence I know
not where to find.

Why I alone did seek, cure
of my pain, Are there no
others afflicted worse than me

The silence of the stars at
night compels me to weep
unique is my love, unique
my wails.

——— ◇ ———

Now go and live in a land,
O — with none to share
your secrets & song, build a
house without doors & walls,
with none as guards and
neighbours none; No one to care
if you fell sick & none to mourn
when you are dead.

Who is there for you to call
your own? my heart, for
whom you shed your fertile tears,
The world is there. let it be
your own dear. life is hardly
your own

——— ◇ ———

He gave me tokens three:
A look, a word of his
winsome mouth & pain for the
rest of my life

forget not then you own approved
the one which so long had
you so loved, whose steadfast
faith yet never moved.

I am a person known to be
candid but — he never took
me as I did. I was pure
with my soul that's what I
am as a whole to make
away from me he played a
magnificent role only for that
he was bold, for being
emotional my heart was sold.

——— ◇ ———

life I know not what you are
But know that you & I
must part. And when, or
how or where we met to
me it is a secret yet.

There is a pleasure in the
pathless woods, there is a
rapture on the lonely shore
There is a society where none
intrudes, by the deep ocean
of my heart.

• Ah Love! could you and I
  with fate conspire, to grasp
  this sorry scheme of things
  entire. could we scatter it
  to bits & then remould it
  nearer to the heart's desire.

——— ◇ ———

I am monarch of all I survey
my right there is none to
dispute: from the centre all
round to my heart. I am
lord of the soft and brute of
my heart.

what, silent still? & silent all
Ah! no. — the voice of the dead
sound like a distant torrents
fall, its but the living
who are dumb.

The things that depart which
never may return, Childhood
& Love's first glow - have
fled like sweet dreams
leaving me to mourn.

——— ◇ ———

These common woes I feel,
one loss is mine, which you
did not feel, deserting me
you leave me to grieve. thus
having been. You should cease
to be.

I thought my self to be gone
thou all seemed to be the
one. Most tough for all the
love but dear know not how
you came and made me
fall again.

oh my only friend, my
best beloved, the gates are
open in my heart -do not
pass by like a dream.

——— ◇ ———

Now death can part us,
or make you less my own
It is sweeter sleeping at
your side, than watching her
alone.

With you the dreams of my love
come true. Every thought of
my reason is yours. In my
last humble prayer to the
spirits above. that my name
shall be mingled with yours.

Tired with all that, from that
would I be gone, save this
to die, I leave my love
alone.

——— ◇ ———

“How do one stay faithful to
a person, one have never even
slept with”

My son is my son till he have
got him a wife.
But my daughter is my DAUGHTER
all the days of her life.

OH death! One's dearest friend
the kindest & the best.

Whose empire is the name you
weep upon. within that
circle none dare walk but I.

——— ◇ ———

Reading good books is like
a conversation with finest men
of past.

for today I don't have a tear
to shed, for so many sufferings
I have. once I was able to
unleash a flood for just a
small pain.

Who needs wine for pleasure;
to forget myself alone I drink.

——— ◇ ———

By the time you swear you're
his shivering & sighing. And he
vows his passions is infinite,
undying — Lady make a note of
this: One of you is lying.

WHY are always unanswerable to the
mind. It seems that whenever you
can ask a why, it can be answered.
But that is one of the false
assumptions. No ‘why’ has ever been
answered or can be answered.

——— ◇ ———

All the aims left behind; just
seek the peace in me, Oh
Lord, put some light
and courage. Grant me this
much I pray, hope I am
not being too demanding.

Truely we name feelings as
EMOTIONS, this little heart
fluctuates in fractions of seconds.
Just a glance & it smile, in
a blink it sheds away tears.

——— ◇ ———

31/07/2011

A feeling of nothingness, once
in imagination I had, facing
the hard facts of life I
know, neither happy nor sad.
Long run to know what I
want from life, Cruelty is
from world or it we who strive.
What ever happens we blame
the world, but it's nothing but
our thoughts swirled.

——— ◇ ———

Smiles seem to be far away,
Is as close to my lips.
although just about to hug,
the way we stand on shore
watching the sea in
sky's arms. Beholding each
other but far apart.

After a long war of thoughts
arrives a deep silence.
Strangely the war freezes
no one wins & looses the none.
mind, the player still running
around, seeking new desires.
Alone I shall walk through
enough of being with crowd.

——— ◇ ———

Bangkok, the very name is evocative
of the orient. Thailand's spectacular
capital city, Bangkok, or
Krung Thep as it's called in Thai —
is one of Asia's most famous
tourist destinations.

A blend of gleaming skyscrapers &
ancient oriental shrines.
Bangkok's every street has a surprise
in hold for the visitors.
Bangkok attracts holiday makers &
travellers from all over the globe
with its temples, shopping centres,
bars & clubs.

——— ◇ ———

Bangkok is as intoxicating as it is
diverse.
A melting pot of exotic aromas,
interesting sights & visual delights.
One of the most vibrant cities in
South East Asia. It's a place
with infinite layers which you
need to explore to reveal its hidden
secrets.

I am thinking & you are
watching & I guide. Bangkok,
I am going to take you on a
tour to discover what has given
this city its iconic status.

——— ◇ ———

Bangkok is as intoxicating as it
is diverse.
A melting pot of exotic aromas,
interesting sights & visual delights.
One of the most vibrant cities
in South East Asia.
It's a place with infinite layers
which you need to explore to
reveal its hidden secrets.