Though Incomplete...

When my body lay numb, open in the wide

you put your warmth onto my soul

The warmth with the strangeness of character, 

unlike the cliche'd 

The warmth crude to the hilt,

The warmth indifferent to my Low's

it smelled of sweat and not white musk

it echoed but wasnt shrill

the warmth unrecognised by you and the rest

not celebrated by the present you too

Your past, as you say, was familiar somewhat.

your future, might also be so.

Blank and Black.

Blank and black.
Colors.. So abstract.
Shades of Grey, pale yellow, blood red and more!
Colors huh!

With strokes bent and un-positive highlight
Gibberish, sentences I speak in my head

I know you and I dont know you
I mean love but I don't feel love

Fantasy or is it hallucination
Naked bodies but covered souls
Well meaning words, tainted intentions and no emotions.

Life, as its turning new?

Mumbai changes, in a blink.

He Changed the meaning of Mumbai for me. Every Road, Every eating Joint, every train ride echo of him. Left right center above below everywhere.

I had always dismissed this feeling for him as mere comfort and not the likes of love. The Archetypes, the stereotypes, nothing because it was different, atleast how we had started off.
and again, it was different, the way it ended.
I had never experienced this, before.  When the hunger pangs of the ever hungry dry out completely, the senses and mind in the most basic forms appears senseless.

I do not know why and how and what had happened. It was a mere 8 month relationship, but the depth felt that of years, even more.eh, MERE 8 months! But was I the only one, all the while feeling everything. Was he nowhere? Was his essence missing all throughout, that a spur of attraction, took it apart.

For days. All together I felt senseless, unable to decode what had actually happened, or what essentially was happening?
Is the generation we live in, with No commitment statuses and the need to not be judged whatever we may do, make one commit lesser in relationships? Is convenience the only thing we aspire for when with someone. Even the convenience to move on?

agreed, the idea of love is somewhat exaggerated, or atleast the idea of Bollywood love is, but does that mean that conveniently we could just overlook emotions?
In the name of honesty, he was insensitive. When while drunk, he had told me once that I was the one who brought in life to him, but does one let go of the harbinger of life so easily on finding someone livelier?

I don’t understand.

He unconsciously changed the meaning of the city I had loved, I had grown up adoring. This city had gradually become ‘HIM and ME’ for me. I myself had started fuelling in idea of me being with him forever, Though I was always aware of the non commitment.

I am not angry with him, I am just sad, that his self took over the sense of us that he had, and that too so easily. In mere 3 days time,from someone special and someone close enough to share the stupidest of things with , I had become someone he had started drifting apart from. I need to understand, how and why this happened? And does this happen that often?
Does Non commitment mean no expectation? Does Non commitment mean insensitivity.
I remember finding my muse for ‘A friend by choice, a lover by chance’ in him. Was that friend never there? Only the lover existed, who just could fly away in a blink.

I am hurt, deep down I am.
enough, that for a week and more I have been questioning my idea of love
Have I given undue weightage to a mere emotion, and let it take over my sense of me?

I am hurt more, because in the process of being with him , I had changed as a person.
I was somewhat transforming into his idea of me
his expectation of me
again, I am not blaming him, Because that’s what I chose.

I am hurt, because I let him overpower my love for the city too.

While leaving he did tell me, don’t let the idea of love vanish from your life.
It did vanish
The love for this city.
this city is no longer the city of dreams for me, nightmare happen too.
this city is no longer the city of holding hands for me, because hearts leave each other too
this city is no longer the city of possibilities, because not so possible doesn’t come true.
this city of no longer the city of the idea of love, because here you fall out of love too.

I am hurt
I am hurt, because I don’t know if I will ever reinstill my love for this city,this city I have loved through and through.

My Shadow, Free.

My Shadow, free

For it moves beyond the confinement of my body

for it breathes the fresh air when I stand behind The caged window,

For it roams the streets when I can muster courage to step out in the balcony, 

My shadow wanders, Free.

That Light source that lights up lives, Gives birth to my free existence.

In my shadow world, I can be everything I’v ever dreamt to be.

My shadow world lets me... explore the naked body, for my clothes don’t matter there.

Beauty products are not relevant, for My Face is all black there.

There I feel young, Un-wrinkled by the words of the wise old Real world 

The Dupatta covering my head here, slips down and spreads wide to become my wings there

My hands always tied up on the bed or in action to feed the dependents, become birds taking a flight or a fish exploring the beyonds of the ocean

My shadow world lets me be, The Me-reality never allowed me to be.

A Complete Day of 'You'!

Mesmerized by a complete day of 'You'
I feel strange when you get up to leave

Pangs of Desire in my stomach
Hunger for your voice in my mind
for the comfort-full nap on your right arm and the pecks

here and there.

Missing you is a becoming a habit, O! so profound!
your fragrance houses my body, cologne too
and dreams of you spill over my everyday reality

I am loving you in a manner
unknown to my past, incomprehensible to the present mind.
perhaps, unknown to the oxford too!

May be, I am not close to being an archetypical lover
may be, I am beyond the cliche's
I am just getting lost in our makeshift world, the one so refined!

The Friend by Choice, A Lover By Chance.

The friend by Choice, A lover by chance
Sings the romantic inside

With disconnect on thoughts
yet the same string of emotion

Synergy of learning
Despite  the varied perceptions

Comes together, our paths, for the divergent desires
or we split the paths when our thoughts conspire

Confutes my artificiality
Yet takes in all:
The perfectionist, the messy affair, the non real
that makes up 'me'

My friend by choice, and the lover by chance!

An Icon, is it?

When you’re an icon, you’re not just a person—you’re a myth.

In fact, the myth Is what transcends into reality when it’s a face you recognise the myth with. An icon is a representation of the ‘wow’ factor a celebrity carries along with him/her. The persona and the attributes we assign to the icon are largely created by the media, be it any. Human in its form, but an icon dazzles, an icon fascinates, an icon is worshipped. An icon, at times replaces God. Their life in reality is of absolute negligence in front of their reel life which is relevant, exciting and in all its content ,all  set to be evocative.

But what is it , as Herwitz puts it, “What is it about film and television culture, the star system, and consumer society that have made the shift from the human form to icons”? The answer lies in our aspirational values, our human abilities of acceptance  and dependence on the media to create ‘opinion ‘ and thus, perspective. We let the icon rise above the culture, above the masses. If we give it a thought, the icon seems powerless to an individual, but  in fact  we, as individuals and a social set up are powerless to the awe, excitement it generates or carries. We submit, subconsciously or consciously to the larger than life image that has been created for the icon..

Plus the brand value an icon generates is immense, for they themselves rise from being a  brand to a cult. It helps a brand stand out, stand tall, adds to the brand recall and serves an an assurance. They are the communication and the communicators for the brand

Despite the fact, that the life of an icon may be short lived and  at the end, its the paparazzi that makes an icon , the icon he is. His reality does affect it.  But the power bestowed on them to shake the emotional appeal of masses is immense, and perhaps, the reason for them letting go of the real to be the reel.