The Naked Truth

You may think you know what this post is about but think again. My friends know that I suck at telling the truth, leave alone giving a straight answer to a personal question. I tend to remain mum but today, why not open the blinds? At least for the next 5 minutes (or less) in which you will be seeing into the deep, deep, DEEP crevices of my soul.

Shall we begin? If you will just follow me…

We all have deal breakers.
“He’s not tall enough “
“He’s too tall”
“He’s not rich”
“He doesn’t have a car”
“He comes from the wrong side of town”
“I don’t like his nails”
I confess, the last one does it for me! Plus I have to see toenails… but that’s just me.

I, on the other hand, have deal formers. I pretty much make my decision of whether I like you or could ever like you within the first 2 minutes of meeting.
Everyone has a list. It’s just that mine is a little different.

1. Conversation
I could write a poem on just the concept of conversation ( and I probably will). The ability to carry out a conversation that would appeal to me … is one that I am yet to discover. A sprinkling of British wit and a philosopher’s heart. Is that too much to ask for?
Of course, there are those who simply over do it and come across as false and pretentious . On the other side, there are conversations that can only be termed as bland.
(In case you were wondering, yes! I am that girl who has a smile plastered to her face each time Hugh Grant opens his mouth).
Also, a person who is frank about their faith. Sometimes it’s easy to feel alone in Christianity. But all it takes is that one friend who you can sit down with and talk about what you really feel. And most of the time, there is a clarity that comes with it.

2. What’s on your music player?

( expect a poem on this one too ) Music has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. I have also come to learn that it tells a lot about a person. I prefer someone with their own genre of preference rather than one who jumps from one ship to another based  on what seems to be popular.
In my opinion, music says what we can’t seem to say sometimes. It shows where a person stands, in opinion or simply in life. Music is a soul speaking to another, and the ability to comprehend that language just goes to show what language you speak.
I said five minutes and a girl needs to play some of her cards close to her chest. So, allow me to hide behind a robe of silence as I try to salvage my modesty. What’s left of it anyway.

( I can imagine a therapist would have a field day just picking at how my brain is wired )   


Familiar Stranger

The leaves rustled softly in the wind. The streets were busy. Everyone, seemingly, had somewhere to be. Cars whizzed by and children laughed as they played in the park across the street. An absent smile played on my lips as I weaved through the bodies.

I raised my hand to tuck a wisp of hair behind my ear. Then I saw you. My steps faltered and I came to a complete stop. My hand fell to my side. You stood about six feet in front of me and it was like the very first time we met. My heart racing, palms sweating, breathing a problem … my smile should have grown wider, but it didn’t.  I should have walked upto you, but my feet stayed rooted to the pavement.

The smile froze on my face before dissolving to oblivion. All the pain that had haunted me day and night for the last 3 months pierced my being. I hadn’t seen you for the same time. I had imagined how it would be and now… and now, all I felt was pain and regret.

Regret, that as you held my gaze with your dark eyes, I knew exactly what you were thinking. That though you stood far off, it was as though no time had lapsed at all. But it had, and we both new it. I regret that you couldn’t look at me anymore. Things had definitely changed.

Then you took that first step, and with each stride, you moved further and further away. You walked towards me but you couldn’t look me in the eye.
Cold reality clenched my heart as you walked right past me. Like we had never met before. Like I had never given you my heart as you gave me yours. Like we had not shared our deepest fears, biggest dreams. Like I didn’t know the feel of your hand against my cheek, nor the feel of your arms around me. Like for two years, my life and yours had not intertwined.
Like I didn’t know you.
Like you didn’t know me.
Just like that, the one person I knew so intricately became a stranger.
I wonder, did you even turn back? Or was I simply a scuff mark in your unblemished past?
I took a deep breath, shaken, but not broken. Carefully, I took one step in front of the other. Then I heard the sound of laughter, felt the sun on my face and I smiled. Life goes on.  

Love Lives Here

We all know that one of the factor’s of influence on a child’s psychological development is their parents’  relationship with one another. So, I suppose I should attribute my sanity to my parents getting it right with each other. Every kid asks, “Mum, how did you and Dad meet? ”
Come to think of it, a lot of weight is placed on that question.

Anyway, it took about 18 years for me to get a straight answer and I’m still not sure if I can piece the whole story together. I guess I’ll wait for one of those opportune moments, that for some reason, involve my Mum being at the wheel and not being able to escape my curious eyes and pressing questions. If I’m lucky, there might just be a traffic jam.
Mum is a teacher and sensible is her middle name. But it’s always amusing to note that every time I ask her to retell the story, she blushes. She never makes eye contact …probably because she is driving. But I doubt she sees the road itself. It’s like time stops and all of a sudden, we travel back in time, more than 25 years ago. We no longer are just heading home, but instead, we cruise between memories. I look outside the window and I can picture them. Walking hand in hand… a couple…planning their future together. It’s obvious to anyone who looks at them that they have found in each other a safe place. They’ve found home.
And she tells the story of an answered prayer, an unlikely answer and their journey to love…

I look out into the world and I find it stripped bare of love and hope, tears marring the faces of the people. Hearts are scarred, a keepsake that could only say ‘once upon a time,love lived here’. Love’s meaning seems to have changed. But then I look home and I see a beacon of light. Love is still alive.
In a shared smile, a hearty laugh and an affectionate gaze. Even when words are exchanged, love remains supreme.
And I smile; hope is renewed. And I thank God for parents like you.
I thank him for love that has conquered the test of time and that of loss. Even that which has conquered raising a stubborn daughter.

Today without you

I race after you through the corridors of my dreams.
My days are forgotten as soon as I lay my head on my pillow, my eyes closing out the world.
At first, darkness is all I see.
Then I see you’re face.
And I say all the things I should have said when I could.
I draw you to myself and I hold you there, memorizing the feel of you, the smell of you.
I never let you go, afraid I’ll miss out again on a life with you.
And I’m happy.
I am so so happy to have you with me… and it’s like you never left… and it’s like I never cried …and it’s like I have a second chance… and it’s like life is complete.

I hear the bell in the distance and your hand grows cold in mine.
It rings again and your grip loosens.
It rings again.
‘Please don’t leave me,’ I cry.
I hold your hand in a vice grip.
The bell rings but it doesn’t stop and with each passing second you fade, fade, fade away.
I open my eyes, squinting against the light. I switch off the alarm clock.
Another empty day without you.
I miss you.

Remember Me?

You might as well consider me a stranger, faithful reader. The last words you read here were written by a girl as much a stranger to me as she is to you.
With each passing day, she fades into the distant past, a ghost. It’s questionable if she ever existed. To some, she’s not even remembered.
A myth;that’s what she is now. A figment of my imagination, even! 
We’ll never know. 

I look like her, that’s for sure, but looks can be deceiving. I don’t live in fear like she did. Not since life took care of that. What’s there to fear, after all? Pain?!  Whether you run from it or run towards it, you will be caught in it’s eclipse. So I stopped running. There’s no use of being tired and in pain.

I said goodbye to her. I would be lying if I said a tear didn’t slip from the corner of my eye. I would miss her. I still do. But it was time.
She looked peaceful as she lay there in white. It was her time and I had to let her go. I placed a red rose between her limp clasped hands. I stroked her hair one more time before touching my lips to her cold lifeless cheek. I closed the casket, and then, life began again.