the "distance" speaks...

I woke up, took a wrong turn, somehow managed to accomplish my morning routines and took a peek out of the window. The picture has changed. My thoughts tried climbing the fence, wandered around looking for its match, But all in vain. As a few moments passed, it started to sink into me that she wasn’t within my reach. I still can’t remember the instance I decided to take step to be apart, or that is where my quota of ‘losing my mind’ fills in. Packing clothes has never been a problem; a random pick by my hands, not my mind! And this is where an engineer’s brain malfunctions. Taking into the considerations the flair for compact machines, there couldn’t be a compact back pack to take his girl with him! The mass, weight and the presence of air couldn’t be compressed.  

I sent a “Bye!” and she redirected it to me. We both know the bye is for the home and not for us. The driver ignited the engine, drrrrrrrmmmmmm, the bus started vibrating, not cause of the engine, but cause of my heart beat. It pounded faster than normal trying to fast forward the whole trip. But, failed. I sent “Leaving! “And by now you must know for what the message was… (the “leaving” was for Chennai and not for us”). The bus left the city. The points took its steps down, the punch line” wherever you go, our network follows” vanished in thin air, or maybe it follows “you” and not the bus. I moved the phone to all possible perimeter, circumference, diameter and area, not knowing the concept that the mobile towers never had the mobility. At last, the time convinced me to sleep. I woke up under the same sun, under the same sky, on the same state, everything was the same, but the fact remained, she wasn’t at my reach, and thus the sun, sky, state felt new, felt lost.

The word “miss” felt obsolete.  I was able to tell her I missed her, I missed her presence, but nothing actually conveyed what was actually missing. The right words would have been.. I am “nothing” without you. I always wanted to be a super hero as a kid, to save the earth. But this time, I wished I was a super hero, not to save earth, to fly towards her, yeah, a super hero to  save himself.

The day(s) went blank and the return ticket seemed to add a lot colours to the blankness. I boarded the train, tadak….tadak….. not the heartbeat, it’s the train, starting to vibrate in every possible slow beats, starting the countdown to increase the distance by time, where I wished the factor could be unity. Well, one has to abide by the laws of “ time” and “distance” to reach what he deserves, I am done with those to reach Chennai, but not with her.

the "bye" speaks...

One among the three letter words that lasts longer than its complete pronunciation. She never uses the word in most parts of our conversations, but that remains the word of maximum impact. There were times when I wished that the word never had a meaning or even that it was never coined. Either it was enunciated with anger, or wished with a smile; both added a gram to the soul. She wraps her face, composes herself with the vehicle, looks at me, and that is when I have to accept the fact that I’m actually going to fall for the word. At times her lids managed to convey the part and to be fair, it was never fair to make me see it.

As she waved her hand, disturbing the air balance around, bringing down the heat, making my feet cold, whispering the word and signing it in my brain, all I wished was the moment never had a place in time. She never smiled, or cried when she gave me the word, all she had on her face was the last hope that the word never ends spelling. The order of letters has been purposefully designed , with the “b” at the beginning and the “y” in the middle , because even if I didn’t know its meaning, it would have taken a longer time to drain the departure same as the time taken to browse it in a dictionary.

A “bye-bye” sounds lot better than a single version of it, reason, I can still have a last chance to think that the “bye” was for the previous one and not for me, and also, let’s face it, it gives me a fraction of time more to be with her. She means a lot to me, so does her words, may be if I could register by default she doesn’t make any sense at the end. The problem is with how the human brain works, it never digests the sound that is attached with a little essence of salt, and thus it stays at the top, never decomposes. Unfortunately, the last voice of hers takes along the wetness of the throat making it dry, the harvest of the eye making it red, making the sound a solid wave which probably takes a life time to settle down the brain and forgotten.

It is too much for a single word, it is not acceptable to bring out these thoughts in exchange for a small action, it is too hard to spend a time on accepting the fact that something so small can affect a soul ; to explore the thoughts that run all around the mind when it the word is uttered, but the fact remains, you will never know until it is heard from “yours”.

the "rain" speaks...

The clouds gathered, the sound of the band(g) was heard across the land, the heaven poured down the blessings, on a “yet another day” to join a girl and a guy in the bonds of time and temperature. The sound of the drops of destiny composed the melody around, the essence of the wet sand scented our world, and the chillness melted and molded our hands. We looked up, she smiled, I realized, it was her overflowing glory of that moment that brought the rain down. The people around set shelters, the neighborhood were drenched by the rain, not a single chance of stalkers around, no wonder a walk on a rainy day stacks at the top.

I wonder if even the father of science was in love, he failed to infer from the falling of the rain and managed to do it with an apple. The concept by itself contradicts, something that evolved from heat turns out to be a source of chillness that makes hearts seek warmth and she found it in mine. She held out her arms to the sky, held the drops, and splashed on my face, waking me up from the reality. The smile on her face showed that the moment is not over the hill or under the sea, it was right beside me. A touch of her finger disproves the reality and adds it to the real dream. As we took a walk, the thoughts froze, or our thoughts walked to places and we froze! Either ways we knew only two things existed then, the rain and us. As it got heavier, our lips curved deeper to hold down the rain. It fell all over her, it slid towards her toes, maybe for once I thought I could be that small drop which barely lived a second , could touched her, make her smile and soak her for a moment.

Who knew that two people in love would add adhesive to plain water, who knew a walk under the rain needs nothing other than the shelter for the palm and to the path of our next step, and who knew the fact that the stream from the sky, the wind from the trees, the flashes of thunder, the voice of her words, the light from her eyes, the warmth of her skin, the distance from her are the seven wonders that bloomed in darkness.

We got drenched, we got cold, we got our legs stuck in the mud, but nothing matters, we got each other. The span could be short, but the time take to dry off the moment from the hearts takes the life time.

the "walk" speaks...

As I took the last turn, at the end of my sight I could see my destiny waiting for its destiny to arrive. It was never a usual meet where people are privileged to face every day, but I do. She makes me feel isolated from the people she knows, she makes me feel as the person she wants, and thus, she makes herself wait at the beginning, the middle and at the end of my path. As I move a few meters past her, she notifies me with the smile. The smile had a plain meaning of a moment of completeness, or the moment of “the beginning”, both contradictory and still the smile managed to refresh my soul.

As we make our steps, the implicit thought that strikes was the pity feeling for the dust aroused as her foot rose, as they can’t come along and I can. The first few floating minutes has silence filled, and mostly held the track for glares and stares. Slowly, a leftover voice overflows; it never has any intention rather it seeks for attention.  Her ears see my words, her eyes speak a million solutions, her lips denies to see, and there I would be, departing my sorrows and falling into contentment. I always knew the best fruit are always at the top of the tree. Well, that theory works for the fruit but not for the fruit I always wanted; it is close to my hands and always within my reach. I hold it, I rest it in me, I take it with me, and the best part is, even when I let is loose, it was never going to fall off my hands, may be that is where the laws of gravity failed.

En route we crossed the park, the cars, the houses, the park, the cars and it repeats, still every round felt straight. May be this could be the only journey I take every day and I have never looked back. A smile on my face is obvious, but every time I look down, as I see my shadow beside hers, I could even see the smile of my “dark” image, or maybe that is the one thing God forgot to create, but she did it for me.

I see people drawing lines in front of their homes as an auspicious beginning of the day; well I drew mine with our steps. A walk with her seldom makes me tired, a walk with her added colors for the front page of the day and a walk with her was not something to be just remembered, but something I would hope for everyday.

the "eye" speaks...

      The lens never concealed the projection. Rather, it converge the focus into mine. Beauty is seen through the eyes, but I see it at hers. It doesn’t occupied a lot of space on her face, but they preoccupy a lot my day and of course, my night’s dreams. People think the lids joins to refresh, but hers join to convey or to instill the hope in me that it would be apart again. I had seen it from the day it first looked into mine, and since then mine never felt alone. It rains there, it boils as mid-summer, it chills down to winter nights, and it holds the perfect balance of warmth throughout. There were times when the words went blank and her sight meant it all. Every time it narrows down to me, it drops a smile on my face, gave a rhythm to my heart beat and it left me with no more deviations.

       My day ends and begins as her eyes sets and rise. A lash from her eyes lands on her skin. She calls it ‘lucky hair’. But I can clearly say, it doesn’t feel the same. Biology failed to mention the extra features it has. It not only looks but it knows to speak. May be every eye had its own language and as a graduate to hers, I would say there is a lot to live with it than to learn from.

      Two drops from the heaven, or two drops of heaven, that would remain the place I look at myself dreaming the reality. It never gave any answers for my “sours and salts”. Rather, it is the answer by itself. I am short when compared to the rest, even the shades of her eyes are. The reason behind must be that both of us are close to her. I never believed in dream inside the dream, until I knew even her eyes rests. If God was unfair for once, this is why! Why would he create something so complete and yet i can’t touch it. I never took a step to describe it, nor I could synchronize my mind and my words when I made an attempt. But one word always flashed, “WOW!”

      It rolled over, it moved away, it stood still, whatever it did, it took me along, it placed my shoes over the head, and it never rested even at my sleep. Every creation on the human body has a reason, even her eyes has one, to show “me”.

the “text” speaks…

A silent blink on the surface, “it” looks confused, but am sure it’s from her, another text message just conceived in mine.  It takes a partial second for me to reach the mobile, but the thoughts flashing in those sprinkles of a second goes across the network towers.  I slide my finger along the “screen” to unlock the soul's voice and there it is- the name that strokes me more than my heart beat, the name I remember more than my own. May be that’s a bit of exaggeration. Let me break down the truth, the name reminds me of myself more than her. As the words lay on my palm, “three” first things would run all over my mind, one, am seeing something her eyes were looking at a while ago, am holding the verses she imprinted and third of course, it belongs to her.

  

 One can possibly imagine how Thiruvalluvar makes a lot of sense in two lines. That way, I can sense a thousand thoughts in her two words “sollu da”!  Though it’s repeated a million times  it still found a new meaning every time. Sometimes, even a blank message would fill in the “empty space” for her next one. She would have probably deployed it while was laying down, or while taking steps, or while taking food, or while in class, whatever it may be, all that matters is that she wanted to do it at every possible second.

The priority of my reflexes has changed recently.  When a pin pricks me, she is notified before I even feel the pain. My first instinct would be to inform her of my life’s happenings.  As I see her text, holding it straight to my sight, I realize that I have never been so confident about anything else; these few words were born for me!! Graham bell was lucky enough for the invention, but am even luckier, touching the essence of the invention more than him.

When it was my turn to respond, I never lost words, I never found myself dry of thoughts. Maybe I knew that whatever I send, she is on the other end hoping that I would somehow pop out of her window. I know what the girl wants, I know she would solely feel complete even when I send her name back, but yeah, that would actually disturb the butterflies staying calm in her. I use exclamations, I use dots, I use blanks, and even then she still manages to sense my state, sense my position and sense my comfort. I would rather say, she literally knows the moisture content of my lids. I have never used a lot of words, but I still made a lot more sense than the word itself. And I send each text knowing, it will happen forever than ever.

the "ride" speaks...

A single press on the button, a little touch on my shoulder and a word of acknowledgment on my ears are all the ingredients for the perfect start. Everyone has a dream to chase and I have mine tagging along me. Whether I took the longest path or a short-cut, the thing that meant the most was the way and not where it leads.

She leans, she whispers, she makes my hair feel her smile and she gives me the mileage throughout the end. Even the slightest misjudgment would mark a full stop. But the fact was, I had all my judgments, expectations and decision sitting right behind and watching ahead with me. Words were scarce. We preferred the exchange of pressure, friction and we let the laws of motion perform its experiment.
 

With hundreds of squeaking noises around and the replica of dark clouds passing by, every inch was a maze to be solved. Still, the voice of hers reached my soul, the smell of hers scented me and our thoughts definitely had a direct connection.  Millions of advices exist forbidding the usage of mobile while driving. Maybe, I won’t need any connection to this world as long as I have her behind me, thus giving a solution for my parent’s nightmare. A dark road was all that was needed for the spark between the skins; a silent road was all that was needed to confess those three words for the millionth time; a long stream of time is all that was needed to encrypt another ” screen saving” moment. 

At every curve, at every drift, at the slightest turbulence, she evolved a grip on me and my blood circulations would get modulated leading to temporary malfunction of the brain. A cursory move of her fingers inside slips the breath out, dims my visuals and brings the sky down. Government is not aware of the fact that it's even possible to make a "19" on a license test and having a "19" behind is not.

As the digital reading rose, the distance in-between inversed. I wish I could race the stars, fly along the wind and take the road that never ends. Yes, it does sound dreamy. Who knows! I’m already having a dream embracing me. So, why can’t the rest happen too? God created human beings, human beings created other human beings and the cycle continues. Few managed to find a machine that could move on two wheels. Let’s say somewhere in the past, few shed their sweats to create "both" and here we are layering our sweats in between.

"Life is a journey!" I don’t know who said that, but definitely he must have said that after a ride like the one I just described. As I have cared so much to write this down, I take my own privilege to change it to "life is on my journey ". I can go on with this, but somewhere this has to end. But the journey of ours never does. Miles to go before and after sleep, and miles to dream before and after I sleep.