A Quest on Overdrive … :)

An eccentric rambler on life's lessons and mercies, found and lost… :)


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Oxymoron

How emptiness fills
And silence screams
When breathless becomes life
As I love to hate
What I’ve become.

Tears shine through smiles
And laughter quite lost in sighs.

You say I don’t see
I say I blindly do
For my eyes, my heart
Are now wide and shut.

I have, just for you
Become the perfect (oxy)moron.

Someone you’d hate to love.

8 August, 2015 (from the hoarder’s junkpile 🙂 )

february ramblings

Day#12 of #RamblingsInFebruary (12 and counting, all on Love ❤ )

 

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Equations

He added to her existence as she negated his, from hers. His time divided, as it was, into his own pursuits, knowing her to be the common denominator of his life, and therefore dependable, was never hers in a way that quite eroded the precarious balance she maintained. The progression, quite undramatic, yet consistent, step by step devalued that common denominator, until it quite disappeared.

You know what you get, when a whole is fractured with no denominator, don’t you?

And the Master thought he had solved all the problems, by fitting them into neat identities, pigeon-holed to perfection, not anticipating that his creation would be the nemesis that creations are, to all creators. One step ahead, always heading into resultant chaos.

So it was with them. The carpet when pulled from under one’s feet, is not a pleasant experience, as when the one on top loses that denominator. Forget balancing – finding their own numbers, and places would have been enough.

If the Master so desired.

She handed in her Math paper, with equanimity, a hint of a smile playing out. It was the most daring thing she’d ever done. She stifled a giggle. The only one. She couldn’t wait to see the response on the teacher’s face. Fatalistically, she visualized the explosion, the flurry of calls, the summons to the HM’s room, the inquisition, the referrals, the gentle invasion into her mind, the well-meaning pitiful looks for the wispy, geeky, frail nobody of a girl.

Now they’d take note. A sudden rush of love, for herself, overwhelmed her.

11 February, 2016

february ramblings

Day#11 of #RamblingsInFebruary – this one goes beyond surreal. That’s why these are called ramblings 😛


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Rose

The thorns were sharp
So pointed and fierce
And the rose, dewy, tender

Blush hush beautiful.

The dew gently tipped off her lashes
Storm in her eyes, angst in her heart

Why? Speak! Please.
You’ll feel better for sharing.

I can’t. I really can’t.

Now you make no sense
Of course you can. Just say it!

A crackle of lightning
The thunder of her response.

I can’t! Why can you not understand!
I don’t know. I don’t know.
It’s one of those things…

Okay. Okay!
He did not ask. He did not move.
Picked up a magazine
Instead of her.

He gave her space.
He let her be.
Prickly. Beautiful. Untouchable.

When all she wanted, needed

Was just to be held and told
Okay! Hush! Its’ Okay!

Sometimes, she wished
He’d move right into her space.

10 February, 2016

february ramblings

Day#10 of #RamblingsInFebruary


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Siblings

They were both adopted. You’d think they’d find a common ground and find companionship, but no, from day one they eyed each other with a wary disrespect. The elder one could have made things easier because he’d been around, was familiar with his Amma, who he was very possessive about. You understand why he couldn’t find much love for the darling baby, well not really a baby, but young enough, she was, to know how to go about establishing rights over the parent.

Try as she might, with cajoling, bribes, sweet talk, holding both their hands, sometimes hugging them as close as possible, which he could not stand, for long, as he escaped the suffocation, nothing seemed to be able to bring them close to each other.

Night times were sometimes traumatic. She was the newer baby, so she demanded attention, while he began to feel as if he was being ignored. Both of them insisted on sleeping next to Amma. And then, the poking and pushing, which wasn’t conducive for her sleep. Finally, all of them would sleep, exhausted by the bickering, and Amma’s stern reprimands – which included a sharp tap when needed!

Amma never knew what made her boy so angry always, especially with his little sister, but gave him a long rope. At least he didn’t attack her as violently as she though he would. There was hope, and it was this that kept her hoping for that miracle, when they would both accept each other.

In this space you read such things that be true. Them miracles, like this one did come true. You see, what they say about True Love is a cliche maybe, but who’s to say cliches aren’t true? You give your kids enough love, and never cut that supply, they find love too, in each other. But you gotta work for it, as a parent, always hoping 🙂

Amma did, watching with joy, as unexpectedly, one night, she came upon this as she was getting ready for bed 🙂

IMG_20150206_235650

The Siblings-Kuttan and Mia 🙂

Love never fails. 🙂 ❤

Day#9 of #RamblingsInFebruary is a True Love Story 🙂

february ramblings

9 February, 2016


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Teaser

Is that what you thought about me?

No, not really, but one hears, you know.

One hears, yes, but you listened?

Well, I oughtn’t have, I know…

Damned right, I should say!

But, really, given what’s happened,

And what will…

Eh? Really! So what WILL?

I’ll simply go on being me, to you,
Even if you hear otherwise.

No matter what?

No matter what.

No riding into the sunset.
We’ve got lots to do by then!

Told you. So just listen, to me, won’t ya?

****

The eavesdropper of this conversation was intrigued. She’s yet to make a story of it. 😀

february ramblings

Day#8 of #RamblingsInFebruary 🙂

8 February, 2016

Chapter ONE (LINK)

This is Chapter TWO

Chapter THREE (LINK)