Sep 6, 2015

Wedding Blurs part 3: The other side of the glass

This story is a continuation of the Wedding Blurs series I started on this blog. If you haven't already, you can read the first two parts here:
Wedding Blurs Part 1
Wedding Blurs Part 2

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GLASS

The honking was getting louder and louder. He couldn't hear himself think anymore. Good. These were thoughts he did not want to hear or think. He had finally made the decision to get married, and he didn't want that Devil's advocate brain of his toppling things over again, all because he had a ‘hunch’. He needed to stop sabotaging his life, and he would not go and spoil something potentially good once again.

This marriage proposal had arrived through the family matchmaker. She looked pretty, at least in the pictures. The 'bio-data' as they called it was also impressive. A top ranker throughout college. Constant promotions at her job. But would she be the right one? Was this the right way to look for a partner? There goes the brain questioning everything again! He had insisted on meeting her alone first. Family pressures can get daunting, and he didn't want any of the nosy relatives making his decisions. Or worse, her decisions. They met at a coffee shop near her workplace. Familiar surroundings would probably make her feel a little less awkward. He reached early and found a table that wouldn't be the centre of attention. She walked in just then, dressed in simple denims and a collared maroon shirt. Hair tied back in a tight ponytail, no make-up and no extra accessories. She hadn't gone out of her way to dress up for 'the guy', he thought. And he immediately liked that about her. He got up and pulled a chair for her. Once they had ordered, he looked up from the menu trying very hard to keep the glance just right. Too long and it would be a creepy stare, too less and it would be a fidgety ferret. It was tough for guys out there wasn't it!

He had always been a little awkward growing up. Until that year he was working in South Africa. Some say an experience away from home changes you. Or does it merely show you a hidden side if you that you never knew existed? It is true that everyone has a past and he was no different. He hadn't spoken about it since. He hadn't even told his family. It was so long ago after all.

Inside the small coffee shop, the music was constantly playing somewhere in the background. She wasn't initiating conversation and hence he began.
"So... Having a good day at work?"
"It is just normal. Hectic and chaotic. But nothing beyond manageable."
"Ok. Umm...
Err... Your bio mentioned you like Chinese food and reading? What do you read?"
"The family wrote all that actually. I usually read non-fiction now. Biographies. Have read fiction in the past but I stopped."
"Oh! Wait... They wrote? Does that mean you are here against your will? If that is so please tell me. I am not going to force any conversations."
"No that's ok. We can talk. They didn't force me to come here."
"Alright. My work makes me travel a lot. Do you like to travel?"
"Not really. I am more of a quiet person and would prefer to stay indoors."

What was it about the quiet girls that appealed to him so much? She had been a quiet one too. Reserved, shy, reticent even. He had met her at a conference where she was handling the publicity. She handed him the name tag and schedule for the day with a smile and looked away. He didn't. Light brown eyes hidden under a fringe, a wide smile and pretty hands. He didn't know why he noticed the hands but he did. During the entire conference he kept finding ways to go back and talk to her - to borrow a pen, to ask where the washrooms were, to request for coffee, to request another copy of the schedule. He noticed her colleagues giggling at the side. Damn it she knew! It was best to come clean then. At the end of the conference he mustered the courage to ask her number, and she already had it written for him.

The conversation and coffee did not last more than twenty minutes. She hadn't spoken much. But maybe she was just hesitant. After all, arranged meetings can get overwhelming. Plus he liked that she hadn't tried to be someone else or put on an excited face just for him. He had no reason to say no. The next thing he knew, it was a week before the wedding. Even then, they had barely met three or four times and that too surrounded by relatives or to shop for trousseau. She was still quiet, and had agreed to almost all the suggestions the relatives would make. That seemed unusual to him. He had heard of bride-zillas and how finicky women could be, especially for their weddings.

Ah finicky women! SHE had been extra particular about many things - where to eat, how she liked her food, how he should hold her hand, and so on. It was just a few dates after their first meeting at the conference, and very soon, they were head over heels in love. Days were spent texting, and nights cuddling. Every weekend they would explore some new getaway around the city - and she made him try all that he never would have imagined. From hiking to skinny dipping to cosplay, it was an exciting new world for him. And he was soaking it all in wide eyed.

The day of the wedding arrived. He realised he would have to rush to the shop to pick up his wedding shoes. No point sending anyone else because they all had their duties. And honestly, he was the only one with no preparation duty at the moment. On his way to the shop, he got a call from an old friend who had moved out of the city long ago. "What the hell! I heard you are getting married? You sneaky bastard! Who is she? You better tell me everything right now or I am coming there to spill all your secrets."

His secret ‘foreign awakening’ had made him feel so far removed from home and everyone there. His family had no idea, and he barely spoke to any of his old friends. He had started speculating settling in South Africa. He had started wondering about a future with her. When things changed. She was pregnant. The news hit him like a brick. But... Didn't they take precautions? Yes, but something must have been missed. It was done now, and it was here in front of him. He wasn't casual about what they had, but he had never given the future any serious thought yet. Suddenly he was thrown into adulthood, with serious decisions to make. "Let's talk about it then" he said.

The friend asked him everything - her name, what she does and how it all happened. "Wait a minute... I have heard that name before." He tried to recall how he knew her. After a few questions about where she studied and worked, he remembered. She used to date an acquaintance. "Oh... Date? Was it serious?" "I think so. He was pretty crazy about her from what I could figure. But I didn't know him that well." His mind was racing now on the various possibilities. The many things that could go wrong if they got married. Was she still in love with him? Is it over? Oh shut up! She had agreed to this willingly. She was probably over it all. But then why hadn’t she told him? Controlling the flurry of emotions in his voice, he pretended to casually ask the friend, "So where is he now?" "Unfortunately he is no more."

"What is there to talk about? I have taken care of it. The baby is no more."\

Aug 9, 2015

When fire and water meet

Wisps of words unsaid
Circling
Making the air heavy
I look at your eyes
Wondering
Like they have all those stories to tell
Your sealed lips burn through
The flame of my questions turns wild fire
Every grin by you nonchalantly strewn
Oh ice on fire!
The sizzle piercing through every breath

Your words like droplets
My parched silence soaks them in
Thirstily
Chained passion now gushing through
Devouringly
I see your questioning eyes
I see your bated breaths
My concealing grins flowing along
As your fingers find mine all knowingly
Ah fiery flare!
Evaporating my will
My concealed fists are all that hold in my words

- Haem Roy
9th August 2015

May 4, 2015

Coffee with a stranger

She walked back two steps and peeked. Nothing. She could have sworn she had sensed someone there.

But then again, her mind had been playing tricks with her these days. All she could think of was him. Not that she was distracted. On the other hand, she was her most efficient self, churning out work faster than ever. The work actually was the distraction. From him. From the thought of having lost him.

The best part about her job was that it allowed her to pretend. She could always find numerous excuses to cover for her slightly puffy eyes. "Oh, it's probably from staring at the screen all day". She could always explain the quiet moods. "Well, there is so much work. Do you expect me to be chatty or to work?" Mustering up a made up smile was breeze on most days.

But the pain showed up in those few spare moments. It was burden of knowledge, knowledge that she could reach out to him, touch him, talk to him, but had lost him. He was always there in person, but for her, he was gone.

Then again, the ghost was with her. His ghost. Of course living beings could have ghosts. Every person you've met and left an impact on, you've left behind a ghost. And his ghost is what she saw that day too.

She went back to that spot the next day. There was surely something she could sense. There was a café just around the corner and she decided to grab a Cappuccino there. As she sat, staring into blank space, a tall guy, book in hand dashed into the chair next to her. It broke her reverie and she almost dropped her coffee.

He noticed that and highly apologetically, offered to get her something. She refused, but he sat down at the same table and started talking. "I'm so sorry. You see, I was actually looking at that little kid in the corner and didn't really watch whereI was going. I don't usually do that, but sometimes I get distracted. Ok very often. Is the coffee here good? I think I need coffee. Excuse me, can I please order!"

She wasn't really listening. She was watching. Him, his mannerisms. Oh gosh! The chair crasher reminded her of HIM. That did not happen much, because not many could meet those benchmarks he'd set. No one ever seemed to match what they had.  Yet somehow, in just less than two minutes though, chair crasher had managed to cross a few.

She forced herself to talk to him. The conversation wasn't bad. The laughter and wit was ample too. And just then, coffee was over. It was time to head back.

She got up and excused herself. "It was really nice to meet you". He grinned widely, sprung up and gave her a hug. "It indeed was ". And she walked away.

No. Numbers were not exchanged. Numbers were not asked. Names were not asked. And yet, this half an hour with a stranger liberated her. She knew she would never meet him again in all likelihood. She knew this wasn't a date or even a new friend. And she also knew, that it was this stranger who just broke her shackles.

She had just discovered, that the benchmarks she was bound by could be broken. That they were possible. She had lost him long ago, but today, she had lost his ghost too.

Mar 29, 2015

That 'what if'

It gnaws it claws it hides in crevices
It rustles up from beneath
It shadows from behind
It hovers above at all times
It seeps through like the sun

That thing that's been bothering you
That one hanging thought
That question hunting for its answer
That hope trying to find straws
That regret inching up through your veins

It sticks to your senses
It underlines all your thoughts
Shake it off, scratch it off, pull it away
It stays in the crumbs that don't go away
It lives in the darkness that will oft surface

That dream that finds nightmares as roommates
The wish that didn't find its genie
That one word spoken hanging in mid air
That turn of events unexpected and strange
That 'what if' which never leaves.

- Haem Roy,
29 March 2015.

Oct 17, 2014

An unknown world

A rainbow streak pierces through the grey
Monotones finding shades and hues
Windchimes breaking the clock’s steady rhythms

It is a world unbeknownst
It is a world not beckoned
A world untouched by the blacks and blues

Eyes squint as they adjust
Hands twitch as the wind brushes past
Feet unaware of the freedom found

A nostalgic sigh for the darkness once dear
A habit entwined, a habit weaned
A habit dissolved in a rainbow cloud.

- Haem Roy
October 2014. 

Sep 21, 2014

The everyday lover's 'rhetoric'

Another prompt by a colleague, and another attempt at writing something. The word this time was 'rhetoric'. Vague, ambiguous and very intangible, I initially struggled with how I could interpret it. And then I wondered - rhetoric is used so often in love, in courtship, in trying to impress and in trying to woo. Every lover has rhetoric and I wrote about this everyday lover's rhetoric.

The everyday lover’s rhetoric

The sun gets belittled with just a glance,
The moon finds nowhere to hide in shame,
The flowers seem devoid of their colour.

As the lover hand picks his praises,
And the lady finds her rose-tinted pedestal,
As nature transfers its glory to the whispers they exchange.

Adoration, persuasion, flattery, worship,
Blindfolds, apprehensions, hopes, dreams,
Wishes like whiffs of perfume.

Days of haze, eyes glazed with illusions,
Fantasies and fairytales seeping through drop by drop,
Promises pressed into clay by jittery hands.

The words have done their part
The verses have played the allurer
And they flutter forth, heart to heart, hope to hope.

- Haem Roy
20th Sep 2014.

May 21, 2014

Midnight

A little background: A colleague and I decided we needed a bit of creative exercise to get through the rest of the day. Around 3 in the afternoon, we came up with one word - midnight - and both of us had half an hour to come up with a verse around it.

Below is what I wrote.

Midnight

Short strokes painted across untiring eyes,
Engulfing a calm,
A scenery that knows no shades.
Black is black and all is dark.

She walks down the ascending road,
Piercing the silence with sharp heels,
Smoke filled in her mind,
Her breath clear as the night.

Crinkled memories of the path she walks,
Muffled voices behind curtains closed hours ago,
Stories swept under the carpets of quiet,
Don’t ask, don’t tell, just stack the mind.

Both hands entwine, the wind chimes,
The streets are hers now.
Seducing the suns away from their skies,
They nicknamed her ‘Midnight’.


- © Haem Roy
May 2014.

Mar 8, 2014

The poetry of abandon

Her breath moved in a lilting rhythm,
Her skin jumped up to reach out to his touch,
Goosebumps that spread to her beating heart.

He didn't need to see her to revere. 
She didn't need to touch him to feel.

His fingers like satin, wrapped around her,
The world was bolted out,
The covers were out in the open.

His eyes covered her in silky glory,
She was the queen of the world they lived in.

They were discoverers - every moment a quest,
They found the hidden art in seduction,
Never more than an inch away from breathlessness.

Her curves were now his altar,
His warm breath was her drug.

Levitating above the world they lived in,
Creating pure poetry with their bodies,
Sculpting pleasure into their memories.

Wild abandon seeped in their senses,
Attachments found no space to survive.

© Haem Roy
8th March, 2014.