Purple persists. Pervades.

Today I set myself free for the first time. Let myself be swept away off my keyboard and into nothingness; another place where my being hovers, facing eternal infinity. The colours that sweep on before me are those of sunset and passion. Purple lurks. The air I breathe is uncontaminated by the life of the world. It’s a quiet here. But far in the distance, there is consciousness; always present, hovering. I am here.

What if in this endless void, there grew a flower. Just one.

Suddenly, there is presence in this place where I am. All of eternity focuses on this one lone flower that I thought to be. What if there was a tree. An apple tree. Growing in the middle of eternity. Life. A woman walks towards the tree, naked, her hair long. She reaches for an apple. Man walks to her and touches her softly. She shivers. A snake coils along a branch of the tree, watching.

Wherever there is purity, evil manifests. There can be no peace. Evil perceives and persists. Pervades. There is but one law. The choice of resistance. But temptation is seductive. Oh so seductive. It caresses you to a heightened state. Touches you so deep and fully as you let it in. And everything else becomes nothing and you are governed by desire alone; a maddening pleasure pain that writhes for fulfillment. You go on. You forget. You want just one thing. Fulfillment. And you arch your body closer and let the pleasure hit you, wash over you; blinding you, fulfilling you. You peak. And lie satiated.

But the memory of bittersweet want remains. Pervades. Reminding you. A tickling memory of the pleasure of yearning.

Purple. It persists. Pervades.

Looking down at the sky

I remember noticing, back when I was about seven years old, the evening sky. Beautiful. Unbelievable shades of blue and orange. Perhaps it still is. But I’ve stopped noticing. I’ve stopped having the time to go out into the garden, walk up to the gate and look up at the heavens.

My house is by the main road of a dusty and busy town. If I walk out of my house into the garden and look up, I’d only see a square of sky. I had to go near the gate to see a wider stretch of  it. Only a little taller than a couple of feet then, I remember standing there by the gate, looking above the road, past the buildings and dust, over the roofs and antennas in the distance. At the kingdom of clouds that reigned up high in all its majesty, untouched by the noise and dust below.

I remember gazing at the well-fed fluffy clouds and wishing I could be amongst them. I remember picking out in my head exactly which cloud I’d want to be on. Surrounded by ethereal orange and blue.

And while on a flight for a conference recently, peeking out of my window seat and looking out at the skies, I suddenly remembered. Like in a movie, swatches of memory flashed before my eyes. And I saw myself, at the gate, in the garden of our house, looking up at me, up hear amongst the clouds.

Never did I think while looking up those many years ago that my innocent wish would many years later become a reality. Now I realize that it didn’t even take many years. I think it was possibly the very next year that I had my first flight to India with my parents. But I didn’t realize at that time that I’d gotten my wish, just like that.

It took a long time for me to notice and remember, but finally I did. Never did I think for once that I’d one day be able to be amongst the clouds. The thought of getting there by way of an aero plane didn’t even cross my mind. Sometimes you get what you want and you’re too busy to even realize and appreciate life granting your wishes.

 Now, looking down at the world below from up here in the clouds, I’m humbled and awed by the fact that there really is no limit to possibilities. 

Whether you look up at it or look down at it, the sky is blue.

Why ME???!

You know the age-old question. You hear it being asked all around you all the time; sometimes morphed in a grunt of misery, sometimes amplified in a wail of pain, sometimes whispered in a prayer for answers. Recently I had a why me moment myself. It raised (as opposed to reduced) me to tears.

Sometimes all you need to do is open your mind to everything around you; and if it’s open enough, you see things the way someone else might.

Why me? What did I do to deserve everything that happens to me and unfolds before me?

Why me?

What did I do?

Surely it’s not fair.

 

Showers of blessings.

Overwhelming.

Everytime.

Colourblind

I am brown. Recently and randomly my eyes (dark brown with speckled whites) were opened to the colours out there. Always there, but somehow unnoticed. I was reminded of the colour black. And I noticed the colour white. And I saw colours coming together. And I realized something. Something I knew and know but realized at the time I saw the colours combined.

Life is what’s beautiful. Not the colours. Life is what attracts you, what pulls you. What you fall in love with. I could be purple and be pulled by the passion of red or the sunshine of yellow. And it could be alright. Because life is what creates the sparks when colours collide. And what is a life without sparks. 

Hmm…!

So I’m not too impressed with people flaunting their religious beliefs in public, but (Ya having said that, I’m about to do it myself) I came across this Bible quote which got me thinking “Hmm…”

“Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain.” Psalm 127:1

And what I thought when I read that was “Hmm..”

Seemed to me that it was like a reminder to remind me of something that I sometimes forget. That everything, good and bad, happens for a reason. That everything, small or big, happens for a reason. And that when all these things happen – the good, the bad, the small and the big – they happen with purpose.

We are broken for the purpose of being moulded into who we were meant to be and are. Bad things happen. But good things happen too. And whatever happens, at the end of the day they are not things that will kill us. And if they do, being dead, it’s not going to matter anyway. Life will go on.Choices. There is always a choice.

It’s as simple as that. The power to choose the consequences that craft your life as you see it, is in the decisions you choose to make.

 

*Thank you to a certain someone who reminded me that it made me feel good to do this. I shall do it more often.

Revelation

It’s about love. The phenomenon. And how it happens. You see, as of late I seem to be coming across quite a few people who profess to be in love. Which is great. Except that in almost all cases, the feeling is supposedly or genuinely not returned by the objects of their desire. Unrequited love they call it. But is there such a thing?

Coz you see, for me, love has always been something that is shared. It’s not something that can be enjoyed on one’s own, like a chocolate maybe. Although there Is a sense of sadistic pleasure in being able to devour a chocolate perhaps, or a tub of ice cream, or a dish of something spicy and Chinese, all on one’s own – just gobble it up to fulfill that stomach-burning hunger for something delightful, something that serenades the taste buds and gives you intense gastronomical pleasure. But it’s that ‘feeling after’ that’s significant. What is it about that feeling after…? You’re satiated, but not complete. It’s sad. If you had to share, you’d secretly hate the fact that you had to. When it’s all yours, you’re not satisfied either. Endless dissatisfaction.

So what is love? To me, it’s sharing. It’s something that you can’t enjoy on your own. It has to be shared. If it isn’t, it isn’t love. Unreciprocated love you say? No such thing, I say. That’s not love at all. It could be many things, called many names. But it isn’t love. Love is something that has got to be shared.

Coz if what you feel is really love, and you feel it for someone, that someone would love you back, always. No exceptions. Because true love is something that does not occur at the spur of a moment. It is something that grows. Like a plant. They don’t just appear, plants. They grow, and keep growing. And love too, like a plant, grows between two people.

You meet someone. You get to know each other. You build a relationship – of friendship, of trust, of understanding, of acceptance. And it grows. Like a vine creeping up the branches of a tree. Completely natural, yet with the power to destroy. Branches, vines, intertwined. And sometimes, if you’re lucky enough, this relationship takes on a deeper level of attachment and turns into a shattering bond that goes beyond everything worldly and makes you think of words like souls, forever and eternity. And it just continuous to grow. And just is. And you know. That this then, is something special. And suddenly, there is nothing standing in-between your heart and brain. You are complete.

Notice how I didn’t use the word love in that paragraph? I didn’t have to. You just know. And you’d only know if you’d shared it, at some point in your life. And if you’ve shared it, that would mean that the feeling was returned. It may not always be shown, but if it is love, it is always returned. No exceptions. You say you love someone and that person does not love you back? If what you feel is love, real love, the feeling would always, always be returned. Because if it is love that you feel for someone, you do not need words or grand gestures or formal declarations to let you know that the feeling is returned. If it is love, you would Know that the feeling is returned. And magic happens. Unless.

Unless? Unless one party decides to willfully close their heart and show nothing but the bolted door to the outside world. Love is not a choice, but to show it, is.

So you love someone and that someone does not love you back? There could be but two reasons for the predicament. Always. One: the significant other has decided, for some reason, to close their heart to you. In which case, what you share is love, and if it is love, it is returned, but if someone willfully walls themselves against it, there ought to be a good reason. And if you’re honest with yourself, you, the partaker in this phenomenon of sharing, would know the reason. There’s your problem. Can you fix it? I don’t know.

Two: what you feel is not love. What then is this maddening desire to stalk that significant other, what then is this annoying obsession that does not leave you alone when you’re not busy with other objects of interest? It could be a number of things, but it is not love. One might call them sub-divisions or even imitations of the real thing. Infatuation, desire, lust, obsession, boredom, craving for love, need for attention, need for affection, for appreciation, for an ego-boost, for comfort. It could be any one or more of these things. The tricky part is that they all have the power to create a mirage of love; tempting you with promise of the cool waters and magic that you, you thirsty and starved human, seek for in life. So how do you know if it’s the real thing?

When it is the real thing, it is shared. Always. No exceptions. And there will not be a single doubt about whether it is the real thing or not. So ask yourself, is it shared? It does not matter if the other party is standing on his/her head insisting that he/she does not love you back. Honestly look inside of yourself for the answer to the question: is it shared? If it is, it is the real thing. If it’s not, give the significant other a break and leave them alone. If it was meant to be, it will be.

Two-timer

Sometimes, being in a relationship has its downsides.

If you’re a girl, it may be that your boyfriend/husband is a little bit on the overprotective (AKA annoying) side and is being a chameleon; going green when you hang out with male friends, black and complaining if you’re in a tiny skirt that draws attention to your legs (but hey he has no issues seeing them on other women), red and on the defensive if you show any sign of disapproval about something that he’d done, even if he is guilty of the crime etc.

You’ve heard the age-old saying: A woman has many faults, a man has but two; everything they say and everything they do…

If it’s a guy that you are, you may be a teeny weeny bit fed up of your girlfriend’s or wife’s continuous nagging about not calling on time, not turning up on time, not eating on time, not paying enough attention, getting home late etc. There are also the accusations of not caring, not loving her enough, having lost interest, having looked at other girls (yes apparently you hadn’t been discreet enough, and she’d seen the drool on your chin), and well the list goes on…

So how great would it be to have TWO spouses or lovers??

A one-on-one with a close friend on his hectic love life revealed that cheating can in fact (contrary to popular belief), be quite a strenuous pastime that’s also mentally-exhausting.

Let me start by giving you a brief about his life then, and yes yes, I did get his okay to reveal his horror story to the general public. Let’s just say that he had the perfect life with the perfect girlfriend who adored him to distraction, literally. Being a little sick and tired of the general bickering that is part and parcel of some relationships, he turned to a pretty and more mature girl (a little older than him apparently) who’d just joined his firm, for solace. After a few exciting months of tailing the new girl, he finally bags her (they shared something special apparently), thus leaving him with not one but two girlfriends. Isn’t that cool now?

From a guy’s point-of-view: “Hell ya!!”, and from the point-of-view of the guys trying to seem ‘above’ being psyched about having two girls: “That’s cheating, and cheating is baaad” - when you know that what they are actually thinking is“Hell ya!!”   From a girl’s point-of-view: “NO, that is NOT cool!” (accompanied by a look of disdain, disgust and dislike), and from my friend’s point-of-view: “Gosh I’m tired…” (said with a disgruntled and massive sigh, which leaves us with a not-so-subtle hint that him being tired has nothing to do with an increase in physical intimacies).

What did increase however was his phone bill, monthly expenditure, and the nagging and bickering, and a bonus of constant fear of being found out, stress and muddled memory. The two girls apparently call at the same times, suggest going out on the same days, have the same tastes in things (ha ha) and for some reason unknown to him, seem to think that he’s cheating on them or is at least up to something fishy. Okay so maybe this guy is no pro at maintaining multiple affairs, but what I’m trying to accomplish by going public with his private life is to point out that cheating is no piece of cake, and to discourage those on the verge of taking the plunge into a world of infidelity. I just hope he won’t stop confiding in me though, because obviously his stories and close calls are highly entertaining.

Back to him. Then there is the business of deleting text messages before seeing each girl. It’s an art apparently – he has to delete X’s messages when meeting Y, but has to have enough of Y’s messages in his inbox (just in case she checks his phone and she always tries to) to show that he ‘cherishes’ each and every “I love you” or “I had my lunch, did you?” message. Vice versa when seeing X. And of course their phone numbers need to be saved under male names so that he can cook up something about a friend trying to be funny in case he is to receive a missed call or  lovey dovey message from one when he is with the other. AND their proper names or pet names need to be re-entered when seeing the relevant girl.

There was also the time he went slipper shopping with X and insisted that she buy a certain pair of white slippers. Next week, he sees Y wearing the same pair, leaving him strangely disoriented and unsure about exactly who he went shopping with for them in the first place. And if one was to frequently go for movies in Colombo like he does with both girls, one could very easily get memories muddled about who was taken for what and so forth. One also needs to be aware of the little disasters that could occur, those that one has little control over, like the time his colleague asked X (on an instance that she’d called the office) whether he should tell my friend that Y had called.

Now, most of his days and hours are spent in fear of being found out by either party or being seen by somebody that knows X or Y and so on.

The best part is that both X (whom he has been dating for over 3 years now) and Y (who he’s been seeing for about 6 months) are already planning on how many babies to have and what sort of wedding it’s going to be, when all he is dreaming about is how to disentangle himself from both of them.

Entertainment at its peak! Who needs TV when there is real life drama unfolding all around you!

 

Moral of the story: Can’t handle one? Chances are that you can’t handle two.