A time to die, and a time to be born...

'I don’t not what he must have thought of when he opened the door and saw me standing there. His looks didn’t change, same as that of years ago. I can recall the love in those eyes when they looked mine. And it never seemed to have diminished after all these years. He wasn’t surprised at all to see me after ten long years. And I stepped in.

He didn’t say anything, just helped me in with my luggage. For one moment I thought that I should say something, but I refrained. I hugged him tight. Yes, I was wrong to have doubted him years ago, and left him in disgust. His love was platonic. His love was sacred. He thought a lot and that’s why I had left him. I wanted the adventures, the fun, the wildness. He wanted my love. Just my love.

My heart started beating very fast as I held him close to me and tight. I could feel his warm breath on my shoulders. His grip tightened. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I held him tighter. He caressed my hair. He kissed my shoulder, then moved on to kiss my forehead.

Adventures I had enough. Men would crave for my body. Making love to me would rid them of all their anxieties. But the pain would be indifferent to me. I felt duty-bound to oblige them. Sex was their drug. None loved me. They loved my body. They loved having sex with me. My only ware of worth was my genitalia. It earned the money for me. Was that all I’m capable of? Or had my vanity suppressed my faith in love? I would eagerly wait for these men. Weeks passed by, months passed by, years passed by. I waited and waited and waited for the many men. But none loved me.

The men were very vulnerable. They would be nervous. They would shake and be unsure of their touch, their actions. They were insecure. But he was different. He looked composed and confident. There wasn’t the shakiness in his breath. It was peaceful. It was from the soul. For all I knew was, he loved me.

Slowly I lifted his head of my shoulders and we kissed. He pulled me closer; my breasts pressed harder on his chest. I doubted if he felt anything else at that time. He kept on kissing me, and I didn’t pull back, for I too felt the heavenly feeling of love for the first time. I kissed many men in my profession. But somehow I was a reborn a virgin that moment and it felt like my first kiss. Yes, I was a virgin reborn.

That night we made love. It was like never before. He yelled. He roared like an animal! But it didn’t matter, and I felt immense pleasure, because this was how it had been since the beginning of time, when the first man met the first woman and they made love for the first time: they shouted.

Then his body collapsed onto mine, and I don’t know how long we stayed there, our arms around each other. I stroked his hair like never before. I felt his racing heart gradually slow down to its normal rate. His hands began delicately to move up and down my arms. He kissed me and said with a smile-“Good evening!”

“Good evening,” I said.'

John wiped the tears off his cheeks. Anushka lay silently in the casket. John never had the heart to say the three magical words. “I love you,” he said looking at his wife’s dead body. She passed away in the morning. It was their fiftieth marriage anniversary. She told John to read her diary from the very day she would die. And this was the first article in her diary. Yes indeed, for that was the first day of her life, her life as a lover.

I'm Not A Messiah!

He cared about her a lot. He loved her a lot. But she never knew how much. Many a times, she misinterpreted it to be yet another one of those romantic approaches of a guy, so she preferred not being with him. She often would tell him that she was not a good person, and he should not care about him after all.


This was one thought that used to occur to me over and over again, and often I told him that he should actually let her go the way she liked; he was not duty-bound to change her for the better. But nothing would stop him to spare a thought about her. I learned from personal experiences that honesty the not the thing that most of the girls look for, or even acknowledge now a days. They look for fun, adventure, and pleasure. Being good was a taboo, and I warned him of heartbreak.



He is my best friend. And I cannot afford to see him heartbroken at all. And my fears came true so suddenly just about an hour ago when I got a phone call from him. He sounded weak. His heart broke a long, long time ago. So what I assumed, it was something a lot more serious than it. This was what he precisely told me:


“Kuldip, she called yesterday. And this time, I could not hold myself up together, because this is too much. I mean why do I care at all? After one year all I know is that she doesn’t even give me a damn! So why am I trying all this?


Kuldip, she is not a virgin. And hold it, I know the lecture that awaits me. But trust me, the fact didn’t hurt me at all! It’s her attitude. Look I don’t at all poke my nose into anybody’s personal relationships, and even be it physical, it doesn’t bother me. She says she had it for fun. And now when I say that the way she is behaving, trying to find love in a guy who she just “loves” because she wants to have all the fun in a relationship. I mean, where’s the fun in it when you are not honest. All that guy cares about is to have a girlfriend.


Now when I say that all her previous company has ruined her and she was not in the right path, and just taking shortcuts to seek happiness, she doesn’t even bother to listen! I mean why do I care, right? Yes, let me tell you why. Because this is the first time I truly love a person and today she’s into sex, tomorrow drinks and drugs! I can sacrifice her personally. I don’t need her in my life at all. But I cannot see her sacrifice herself to the satanic things. Yeah, guess what I won’t give up!


I did lose all my hope to be with her forever, long, long ago, when I got to know that I meant nothing to her. But like it or not, she means everything to me. Right now, I’ll be the happiest person to see her go the right way and be happy in her life. I can leave her to have her find her own way. But I know one thing for sure, that if I do that, she’ll go deeper into damnation, and that by any means, I cannot let happen.


I really have larger responsibilities to shoulder from now on. So I said it. I’ll be nagging. She will plead me to let go of her, but I’ll not. I swear. I’ll do it selflessly, because I don’t want her in return. I want her to be a happy person in the long run. You know what it means to be honest. It hurts, but you are happy. You become the victim, but never lose your dignity. I want her to be good and honest. I’ll do anything to help her out of her ways.


I am not a Messiah! But I’m a human being with a heart. And all I can do is to love her selflessly. I’m happy that I love her. But I need her to love too, not for the sake of loving, but loving honestly. I do not want her to love the idea of a person. I want her to love the person, be it anybody.”


I was shocked. He hates monologues. But for the last 20 minutes, I was on the receiving end of one from him. I had one thing to say but I stopped myself. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, and I cut short the conversation with a “Goodbye. Talk to you later.” My voice choked. I knew she was gone forever, never to return. I wish I could tell him my story.

The dark passenger

"Life has no victories... There are only battles, and the best that you can hope is that, at the end of it all, you find a stand, and if lucky, find someone willing to stand beside you."

This was something I came across in a TV show, a little time back. Since the I've been thinking a lot about it. I mean, isn't it so true? There ends a battle, and soon enough a new one sprouts, and before we can even relish on the victory in the previous battle, we are already standing surrounded in the battlefield of the latter. And this goes on as a continuous process.

Emotions. What are these? Why do we feel them? Who gives these to us? These are the few questions I ask myself. For some good time, if the above said quote holds good, I really didn't feel anything at all. All my smiles, all my tears, all my everything, they were nothing. All of them were meaningless. I lived without feelings.

Pain is something that I have become very used to of late. What is pain? It is something that is supposed to hurt, right? So was it painful when I fell through a table accidentally? Or was it painful to see a friend change radically for the worst? Was it both? Was it none? I'm clueless.

They say "loneliness is tragical." Every time I close my eyes, I see that I'm in a desolate island, looking ahead, walking to the place where I can see the sun set. But the further I go, I see that I have to go to a different place altogether. No footprints on the sand, no signs to follow. Is this what we call "being lonely"? It is supposed to be something when you are all alone, and its not good. That's all I know. But am I lonely? I mean I'm always surrounded by people, at times, those who know me and love me well, at times, those whom I don't know, and at times, people who would be more than happy to see me dead.

Death. Another thing I don't know. People say and think a lot about it. It is not good they say, but it is unavoidable. Some commit suicide. Some are murdered. Some die a painful death. Some die peacefully. Why does it have so many varieties? Does it have any varieties? Its the moment of death I'll focus on. Whatever may be the reason, death occurs as soon as the heartbeat stops. So isn't death similar in all its forms? Why do people keep thinking and philosophizing about it? Is it death or that one moment that takes us to the other world? Why can't people accept a fact? I wish things were so easy...

I don't know why I write all this, but nothing of late has made much of a sense to me. And sure as hell this doesn't either. Is it the sorrow of rejection of honesty towards somebody? I don't know what sorrow is. Is it the shock of a sudden radical change in a somebody, whom your heart felt it should love? I don't know what shock is. I want to know. I need to know.

The Call...

This post is after a one hour chat with one of my close friends. It was a casual call but in its course, it got serious. Though in the end, we both had learned about our own "mistakes" concerning a particular incident, I somehow felt I should write on it. I carried on with my share of feeling bad about it, but writing about it gets all of it out of me. So I'm writing.

First let me introduce the person concerned. She is someone I really love and respect a lot as my friend. But to me, she is a human first and a "she" next. I was educated in a boys' school, so at one time, I was not at ease with conversing with the feminine gender. But it was my sister who convinced me to make mistakes, so that I come out of feeling uncomfortable, for in my future, I have to interact with men and women equally. And so I started my interactions. Many a times, my jokes didn't go off well; I have left many hearts wounded in the city because of some silly pranks, jokes or maybe comments I made about them. Some thought I'm a flirt, some felt uneasy about a few friendly gestures made. So this led me to believe that indeed interactions with females are not so easy as those with males. They are different indeed. And they need their own space a little more than men do.

But this young woman happens to come in my life. Our meeting was virtual, and rather an unusual one for a long-lasting friendship to continue. Yes, it is hard for people to believe in it; it was hard for me to believe it too. But it was reality. She was the first of the womankind that I could be really free and frank with. There are issues that I cannot discuss with my mom or my sister, for I feel shy as they are elder to me. But knowing that she was someone who would be the last person on earth to mind anything about it, I did share a lot with her. We shared a lot with each other. She changed my view altogether about women. Often we her women fight for equal rights as those of men. They were right. They are as good as men.

When I started contemplating a lot about the two contradictory viewpoints of mine, I was somehow driven by sheer justified facts that men and women should be equally treated. This viewpoint actually help me be at ease with womankind. I made a lot of female friends soon after. Slowly, I was led into an all new belief. Women are human first, women next.

This summer I happened to meet with her on not one, but two occasions. It was really nice to meet her, and we had our share of fun. She wasn't a bore to be with, so I really loved her company. Till here all sounds okay. But then it happened. We were about to part our ways towards home, when we shook hands and I added a friendly gesture by poking her little-bulging-out tummy. Yeah, that's what I do to friends with bulging tummies.

For days later, we conversed normally, though occasionally I brought up the tummy issue, and she would "jokingly" say-"My tummy officially hates you!" But it seemed that I was wrong. I was definitely wrong. I generally understand subtle remarks, but about a thing that perfectly went down well it me, I couldn't decipher the subtlety in it. It didn't go down well with her. I admit that my blind faith had a loophole. Do I ever give a thought to what the person on the receiving end feels? No I don't. And I was wrong. So I learned that its again different with females. They need their own space and we have to respect that.

I was feeling miserable to have done what I have done. Especially to have hurt someone like her, who has been one of my best buddies, and is one of the few who really understands me well. But my complaint is on only one thing. I agree that given to the fact I'm a human being, I'm not perfect. I make mistakes. But they are unintentional. I try my best not to hurt people, because that goes down as a regret in my life, and I hate having any regret with me in my life's course. I prefer being shouted at when I'm wrong. At least that makes me conscious about my mistake, and I apologize. But this was supposedly a case where a "sorry" is not enough. I have just one thing to say. It would have been, if at that moment if it were to be told. But alas that did not happen.

I want to tell you my dear friend a thing. Please be direct with me about nothing but my mistakes. Correct me, for I'm human. Enlighten me, for I am illiterate about most things. In the end, I wish that we have learned our lessons from this incident. I'll quote-"I'm selfish, impatient, and a little insecure.I make mistakes, I'm out of control, and at times, hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." Please let us help each other for life, for all I know is that if there is anyone who can handle my best and worst and won't defriend me for either, it is you and YOU only.