Love, is.

By



Holding your hand I look behind once to see all that was mine till now, 
The reflections of the bygone era look back at me, some smiling some crying, some beckoning and some biding a goodbye.
I wish I could hold onto them for a moment more; 
For they hold memories galore. 
As I stride ahead clasping to hope, I reminisce the yesterdays that surround me. 
Will the laughters of tomorrow reflect the smiles I gave yesterday? 
The mirror that awaits me, will it reflect what I leave behind today? 
The single flame of desire that is fueling my thoughts, One that is the wind beneath my wings, 
Will it continue to smolder the way it does now forever? 
Amidst all the tornado building around me I feel the faint smell of spring, 
Your hand on mine, I stare into the thousands of possibilities that you bring along. 
Enchanting me with your smile you keep staring into my deep brown eyes making me wonder what you see, As if to answer you come hither to whisper, “A thousand sunrises cannot match the sparkle of your eyes.” With that you rest everything else to peace as my questions no longer seem unanswered. 
Love is what is and Love is what it will be!

Popular posts from this blog

Diary of a Lost Wanderer - Lost & Found

By
Image
Dear Diary, I fell in love with Mumbai when I first visited it in 1995. Bombay, as it was then known, fascinated me since then.  If you ask me what made me fall in love with this city, I perhaps cannot explain. It wasn't that I was seeing the sea for the first time. It wasn't even the biggest city I had been to till then. Still, there was something so magical about this place. The trip was a short one lasting less than a week but this city now had my heart. Years later, I arrived here all alone on my first solo trip in 2005 and fell in love all over again. I got my first job and was required to come to Mumbai frequently. The local trains, the chaos on the roads, the crowds, the humdrum, the salty smell in the air, the stale air- everything about this city was intoxicating for me. 
Keep reading »

Essay: How to mourn the loss of love?

By
Image
Image Source: Unsplash.com I remember the first time I mourned the loss of love was when I was eleven.  For me, dance was love at that time. I had discovered a strange joy as I glided in and out of those movements. Every time I swirled; I could feel my heart soar. Any beat that strained to reach my ears, tempted me to move my body to its tune. I just knew I was born to dance and that is the only thing I wanted to do, all my life.  I had my reasons to believe so and a very simple one at that. It made me happy. That was a reason enough. However, my father thought otherwise. Girls from good families, do not dance. That line was enough to break all those rosy dreams of dancing on a stage. The day my brother was sent to the same dance class which was not good for me, was the day I experienced heartbreak for the first time.  That is the day I mourned the loss of my first love- Dance. 
Keep reading »

Metro Diaries: The Art of Making Love

By
Image
Image Source: Unpexels (Cottonbro) “Do you know why is it called making love?” He whispered, pulling the comforter closer.  I don’t remember for how long we had been in that room, on that bed. Lying aimlessly, just feeling each other in silence. I managed to just whimper to denote my curiosity.   “Because that is the moment we create love. We are the closest we could ever be to love, in its purest form. It is sheer magic as we are naked, in every form. Mentally, physically and emotionally before that one person, we love. We know they can hurt us, as much as they want to, in the way they want to. But love gives us that power to trust them, that they won’t.”   “And here I was thinking it is a need. Something you want at that moment and you get it!” 
Keep reading »