Guided by a Voice

Every street is dark
And folding out 
Where lies the chance we take
to be
Always working
Reaching out for a hand
that we can’t see
Everybody’s got a hold on hope
It’s the last thing that’s holding me

I promised that I’d write this in the simplest manner possible. 

 Everybody has been telling me the same thing, over and over again. They say are killing yourself for something or someone that/who will never come through. You wonder why that light never went on in your head. You also wonder how quickly life detours and how easily it mutates from picturesque eden into the site of a train wreck. Someone who could could’ve been everything is now reduced to being nothing and noone. It takes nanoseconds for a perfect fit to distort itself into a perfect nightmare.

Should there still be Hope?

The ugliest part of transitioning is the calmness that slowly carpets all your senses. An eerie sense of calm. Like the music for the rolling of credits after a great but sort of incomplete movie. Like the flight back home from your favorite away-from-home place. Like you ought to have known that pushing it any further would break it into miniscule pieces. You pursued it to a point of self-depletion. You loved till the point of emptying all reservoirs of self-control. I destroyed  You and You ate into my soul. And all of this for two people who were so uniquely set apart from the rest of the world that they had to find each other one way or another only break each other like this. Soul Survivors. But did they really have to condescend to becoming the worse possible people for each other too?

Why does a girl like this love a boy like that?

Its the simplest, yet-to-be-unanswered question in the history of all questions.

 And then begins the mandatory moving on process even though you know that the karma of the equation isnt done yet. Unfinished and Unwritten. Moving on was such a walk in the park before this and now its this invisible bag of bricks hanging from your neck and you are dragging the weight of the world around with you. Heavy. It feels heavy. The rooms feel heavy, the songs feel heavy, the breath rises and dips and you can count ever hour sinking slowly into the mid-day’s manic psyche.

I sit with cards to draw the future out and to negate the past. I still draw “Lovers” and “Past Lives”. The kohl eyed clairvoyant sensei says – “Don’t force it out of your system coz it won’t work just like it didn’t work forcing it into your system.” Gulp. Am I to live with this imperfect balance of love and pure and utter disdain for someone who still means a considerable amount to me?

“No. You will come together when You let go of Him. Internalize it and it will appear.”

Friends laugh off such prediction and the general predilection and would prefer if I surrendered myself to a shrink instead of a psych. How does one tell them that the shrink is fairly of the same opinion as the psych. Eyes almost bleed when I think of how murky we got in less than 48 hours. They sting with the heat of warm and copious tears threatening to drown me and my tiny little roomfull of unwatched DVDs and unread books, to non-existence.  As someone “wise” pointed out “Emotional Tsunamis. Every prediction index fails, often.”

Its not for me to judge the situation as it stands today coz I contributed to half of it. The onus of the other half lies with someone who has probably forgotten bout my existence by now. You, I know for sure, aren’t that uncaring but I m tired of making excuses for Your inability see beyond the present situation or for just accepting yourself for who You really are or Your constant derision of anything  and anyone who points out that You maybe a little wrong bout who You are and who you want to be and how You are affecting everyone else in Your wake. That sometimes You can be so steeped in hypocrisy and yet at times You make me feel like I can love You till  are am shivering with the very thought of being that close to you. And I have been. Physical transgressions build mountains of pain when I think of You holding someone else but its not that, what kills. Its this constant psychological insurgency, the precedence to attack one another for the slightest of things. Thats what drove me to lunacy.

Though, the thought of you touching someone else somehow still makes me want to scythe my own heart out and place it in on an examination tray, circa Zoology experiments 1998. I could almost be that mad-hopping frog with adrenalin jumping through its froggy nerves before it figured out that its missing heart and died a rather “heartless” death. I m that frog. My heart’s been torn out. (Apologies Dear Heart)

Every street leads me to You and I don’t think I am a masochist or an Evangelist, so why am I still holding onto Hope?

Coz..its made me see myself in the light of realization. That sometimes the best laid plans turn out to be damp squibs. That though Love is enough, Time is stronger and more formidable that I’d realized. Sometimes the best option is to not have immediate options at all or go the whole enchilada, instead just let nature take its own course.

Not ready to give You up. Niether am I sure what would I do if I did have You with me. And thats the key, You would come to me when I knew exactly how We’d be and not want You as a some churlish whim.

So, do I love coz You just happened to me and it was only appropriate that I respond in a manner like this. No.

I love You coz despite everything You’ve done till now, I can still imagine that spending  gray wintery evenings with You and Your anecdotes would be my elixir in the autumn years of my life. Even that occasional Silence that percolates the atmosphere like rain on a bamboo shoot, means a lot to me. I’d love to spend 8 hours at a stretch talking bout our quirks, our life and spend another disagreeing about funny little things. We’d do that. I want to have your babies. Yup, I never thought I’d ever say that about any man ever.  I thought I knew myself so well till I saw you huddled over me that night talking bout how much You wanted children only to realize the real consequence of this meeting. You said it and I felt it. Your crazy, naughty, chatty kids. Yup, thats what I’d have wanted. Coz I know that You’d be a great father and that probably is the key to Your happiness and mine.

I know all of this since that fateful and miscalculated semi-tryst but I have also intrinsically known that I can’t possible walk this path right now and I am not ready to want someone so much right now. Its a bizzare Catch 22. I want You and I push You so that You can let me go. Its convoluted logic.

But, as of now, We’ve stopped. And as Psapp sings in the background – “Nobody knows where they might wake up.”

There is so much else to live through.

Invitation to the last dance
Then it’s time to leave
But that’s the price we pay
when we deceive

p.s.: I am partially happy that You will never read this.


~ by iconoplastic on August 17, 2007.

3 Responses to “Guided by a Voice”

  1. walk to the Clyde for to mourn and weep
    But satisfied I never can sleep
    I’ll write her a letter, just a few short lines
    And suffer death ten thousand times

    Black is the colour of my true love’s hair
    Her lips are like some roses fair
    She’s the sweetest face and the gentlest hands
    I love the ground wheron she stands

    She’s right..let go and stop fearing..
    All in good time.. if its truly meant to be..

  2. Ola Sch!
    Whatever happened to you?

  3. will never ever read this? hmm..

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