Colours

She:
He always told her he snores – that’s how his friends had made him believe him. And the first time they slept together, she woke up a little while later and found him peacefully sleeping besides him.

Absence of that anticipated snore surprised her. Not believing her own ears she checks him, placing her ears on his chest. ‘Well, nothing wrong with the heartbeats’. She happily realizes that he was lying to her about the snoring bit.

She looks at him lovingly, tracing her finger along the contours of his face. Eye brows, nose, lips, jaw and the neck. She plants a kiss on his cheeks, tenderly. Then another one on his mouth. And finds her-self among a sudden rise in passion, she kisses him again. A little lower this time. On his chin. Then on the neck. A tickling sensation on his skin wakes him up. She finds him looking down at her, smiling. She pulls his face towards her and kisses him on his lips. A long and deep one this time.

He:
He beams with happiness. It’s truly a blessing to be loved, and certainly, a great high to wake up to the kisses of the one who makes you feel the most special.

You...

You are the friend on whose shoulder I get all the strength I need
You are the mother in whose lap I am protected from the world
You are the child I have always wanted to father

You are the lover who makes all my pains disappear

You are the smile that makes my face look beautiful
You are the heartbeat that keeps me alive
You are the love that stays always in my heart

I wouldn't be the same without you... ever again, ever again...

You came into my life when I was hurt and lost and lonely
You gave me strength and inspiration and love
You brought into my life the stability and peace I always yearned for

You sowed the seeds of a new life of happiness in my heart

You made me believe in miracles
You made me believe in love
You made me believe in God

And trying to discover you, I re-discovered myself

Her. That is.

I have always loved the company of intelligent people. And she is beautiful, which is, definitely, an interesting bonus.

Dealing insecurity...

Why did she keep repeating,'If we hadn't met this way, you probably wouldn't ever have noticed me.' I mean, I found her cute, sensible and hot. Two hundred percent. I don't really know why no one else didnt. Maybe she really didn't. Or maybe what she keeps telling me isnt true. And I think if I had met her before, I don't think it'd be any different. I'd love her just the same.

Truth is, I love her very much. May be it might have actually taken a little more time for me to actually mean the 'I love you's I kept smsing her every now and then to assure her, though.

Romantics?!

"Those that seem little shifted from focus are actually die-hard romantics. They are in love with their life and the life that is around them. They absorb almost everything into themselves. Love, shit and all..."





(Well, I don't remember if I worte this. But then, what the heck, it's beautiful anyways. So here it is. I'm including it in quotes - to be on the safe side!)

3rd July 2008 - London Diary

At about 1.45 am, I reached home (as in the new home), after almost two hours drive from the airport. It's in 3rd zone, a place in East London called Manor Park. Central London, where my college (is) in 1st zone.

Neither the interiors nor the exteriors are pretty much different from what it was in Doha. Every little thing is exactly the same. Only notable difference is the British architecture and the low height fences. Much similar to Kerala - model of roofing - tiles and all.

And at 2 am, I call my father. He greets the phone with a 'good morning' and I tell him, 'Acha, I am here... finally! Safe and sound!!'. Then I sink into the bed made out for me. Its early morning back home.

7 a.m. The following morning. Its been at least more than an hour since I woke up. And I'm still in the bed staring at the false ceiling.

I'll not be able to join the April batch. I will have to wait for the classes to begin on the July 28th. That's the next batch. As of now they have offered to help me find a job. I can't work for more than 20 hours, legally.

7.45 am. I finally drag myself out of my bed. Half of the house is sleeping still.

I tiptoe to the living room. Huge, heavily cushioned sofas have kind of filled up the whole space. I check out the DVDs lying on the floor. 'Shaurya', the latest offering on the Indian Army from the Bollywood. I've been wanting to watch this one since the last two months. And well, here it is now.

Looking out from the window I feel just the same like in Doha. Only there are'n't big fort-like walls around. There are very small (knee-height) fences instead. The way cars are parked and the villas constructed very close to each other, looks pretty much the same.

Every now and then I hear trains passing by. The nearest railway station, Manor Park station, is just a block away. It's mid summer here. Yet, it's quite cold out here. Time and again, it keeps drizzling. Suddenly, I miss her.

I take out my phone and call her, and find a little comfort from across the world.

The portrait.

When I look at the picture in front of me I feel a little strange. The girl in the picture is known to me. I have known the contours of her body. I have kissed her lips. Caressed the cheeks. Held her breasts in my hands. In various ways and on many occasions, she has submitted herself to me. And in more than one ways I felt I owned her body.

I don't do it anymore. Today she is not more than an unknown face in the crowd to me. I haven't thought about her much these days.

O.K., I am lying. But now that she and I are both pretty happy the way we are with our present lives, I often wonder, does it ever cross her mind just like it does with mine, that there was a time when we were together? Intimately, together. I mean we weren't bound by love or anything. But still..?!

Kiss.

There weren't any butterflies in our stomach. We'd gone into a trance instead. Man, how much I love her.

London Bus - The red one...

When you press the red button on the handle bar, the alarm inside the driver's cabin says, 'tin!'. It means 'stop the bus - somebody (read I) needs to get down!'. The flash board inside the passengers' cabin says, 'bus stopping', as the driver promptly responds and stops at the nearest bus stop.

Well, thats how it works here in a conductorless 'Red London Bus'

Writing. As in professional writing.

"Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, and then for a few close friends, and then for money."

Roles of a wife...

Lover - first and foremost
Friend - most (seriously) important
Mother - however grown up, all men remain babies
Sister - chivalrous side of men always has an urge to protect
Daughter - ok, once in a while, even a man like to play grown-up
Manager - of every aspect concerning her family
Prostitute - while in bed with her husband

A vague encounter..

As we walked, hand in hand, along the lonely corridors of the national museum, a moment's impulse prompted me to pull her towards me and she quite (un)willingly put her hands around me.

But as we were in the process of drawing comfort from each other, my eyes caught this little child's head, popped out of nowhere, followed by heavy footsteps of maybe its entire family members.

I disengaged myself and steadied her.

I took her hands and ran towards the next nearest spot that gave us a little privacy. And once there, we laughed our lungs out.

Man, was that embarrassing?!!

An achievement, so called...

When I finally I did receive my medal, it was from a junk dealer's place (where I found it) as a thoroughly rejected piece of crap. It had lost its luster. But I still took it.

At home I kept in on the mantelshelf along with my other achievements. I saw this one as my biggest prize ever. To me it was the remainder of the dream I once had. And it was mine after all.

Children of sin...

On the faces of her children,
she strained to read her bright future...

But the stars that shone,
led her back to her own past,
and blinded her with its glare...

Teenage Trails (Trivia)...

Years ago. 13 years to be exact. He first smelt sperm. And on the same day, a few minutes before he smelt sperm, he discovered masturbation.

Molutty...

I know she cares.
I know she will be there for me throughout as long as she is alive.
I know, with her, upon God, I swear there will never be any ego hassles or sacrificing one’s individuality or having to deal with complexes, whatsoever.
I know she can read my thoughts and act upon accordingly. Man, I never had someone like this before.
With her, I definitely enjoy.

And on her part, she makes me feel like she does so too.
Anyways, it feels exhilarating. Since not every time does a guy gets so lucky enough in love to find someone who loves him more than he does himself and who would actually let go of herself away so much, being in love.

Did you know?

"Jungle jungle baat chali hai...
pata chala hai...
Chaddi pahan ke phool khila hai...
phool khila hai..."

This song was written by Gulzar for the animation film 'Jungle Book'.

On making up...

Today we kissed and made up.

Ok... today we kissed, hugged and made out... watching movie together...

And what a day it was. I felt like I lived my entire life in a day.

On being pathetic...

Being castrated, isnt such a nice feeling after all.

I ditched the nicest girl in the whole world yesterday. And I just discovered the big emptiness between my legs.

Hope floats...

...really! And thats the only thing that helps me stay afloat these days...

Its kinda refreshing...

...to be in love. And more so, when you realise someone loves you even more than even you do so...

God, don't let me down ever again.

Writers??!!!

This one's from Mr. Steve Anto.

"There have been a lot of writers then and now, there has also been a lot of readers then and now. Writers can write anything and they have readers to read it. And readers dont read all the writings of all the writers. This makes it possible for many writers to be born who write no original stuff, but the reader who reads this stuff for the first time thinks that the writer has original thinking, which is actually not. So all writers keep copying and writing, and all readers keep reading the stolen writings."


Well, I really don't want to make a comment on that...

Forgive my past, dear...

"Telling the truth is sometimes the toughest thing in the world, not because you are afraid of the consequences but because you foresee the expression in the eyes of someone you love..."

But when someone gets the exact thought you would want to have, and expresses it in a much better way you could ever have, you dont have much choice but to borrow them.

(Borrowed from Alphy's... Thanks once again, friend!)

May be, finally, this could be it…

Wading past sorrows and miseries and heartbreaks…
as I made my way ahead into the darkness, deep and thick…

I see a faint oil lamp, flickering, at the far, far end…
Bravely holding out itself against the wind…

Love always was but a passing breeze…
Unlike now…

This time, its different…
Suddenly, I feel beautiful…

And once again, I am inspired…
To have that last shot at life…

The Sunday Afternoon (Indian short film)

About the film:

2 guys, a girl and a really boring Sunday afternoon. A film by Varun Agarwal.

Waiting Room (Short Film)

About the film:

Sound - Jen Cleary
Camera - Mike Duda
Editors - Richard Krysztoforski & Brian Spach
Written and Directed by Brian Spach

Street Light (Indian Short Film)

About the film:

Street Light is a touching story about a electrical fault in a residential area. The electricity department is receiving calls every day about a electrical fault that needs to be fixed. Finally when the electrician arrives, he is in for a surprise, the man you initiated the complaint has reasons which are not easy to understand..

Hide And Seek - Indian Short Film

A short film by Varun Agarwal

Valentines Day (Short Film)

About the film:

Valentines Day is a short film made by the students of Video Production class at the University of Utah.

A Thousand Words (Short Film)

About the film:

A short love story made by students at Ex'pression College for Digital Arts (Adam Ardans,Tiffany Lo, Travis Munn, Eric Night Pipe, and Darrin O'Hara & Joselito Sering). It has been sent to about 10 different festivals including: Cannes Film Festival, Delta Video Fest, Telluride, and a few others!

Coffee & Donuts (Short Film)

About the film:

After fifty three years of marriage, Eddie and Rosie have been through everything except breaking up. But it may take more than a young couple's words to help a perfect match back along the path to redemption.

Using a Mid-western Neo-realistic-style, "Coffee & Donuts" explores love and romance through the vantage points of two different generations. Real life husband and wife, Jerry and Esther Castellano, play Eddie and Rosie in this romantic comedy by writer/director, Jim Fogarty.

Touch - A very beautiful short film

A spare thought

Goodbye nightmares...
Welcome happiness...

Different forms of the same idea...

Binci wrote:

Julm bhi ham par ho, aur ilzaam bhi
Dard bi hum sahe, aur inkaar bhi

Sofia wrote:

Julm bhi ham par ho, aur ilzaam bhi ham par lage
Dil bhi thode woh humara, aur bewafa bhi hamein kahe

Naaz didi wrote:

Julm bhi ham par ho, aur ilzaam bhi
Julm jab un par ho, hai ham par tab bhi

Meri Maa...

Main Kabhi Batlata Nahin
(I do not say this very often)
Par Andhere Se Darta Hoon Main Maa
(But I am scared of the darkness mother)
Yun Tho Main, Dikhlata Nahin
(Even though I do not show)
Teri Parwaah Karta Hoon Main Maa
(I care for you, mother)
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata, Hain Na Maa
(You know it all, don’t you mother?)
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata.. Meri Maa
(You know it all, my mother?)



Bheed Mein Yun Na Chodo Mujhe
(Don’t leave me in the crowd in such away)
Ghar Laut Ke Bhi Aa Naa Paoon Maa
(That I can’t find my way back home)
Bhej Na Itna Door Mujkko Tu
(Don’t send me so far away)
Yaad Bhi Tujhko Aa Naa Paoon Maa
(That I cant even get to remember you)
Kya Itna Bura Hoon Main Maa
(Am I that bad mother?)
Kya Itna Bura Meri Maa
(Am I that bad my mother?)



Jab Bhi Kabhi Papa Mujhe
(Whenever papa takes me)
Jo Zor Se Jhoola Jhulate Hain Maa
(To go swinging)
Meri Nazar Dhoondhe Tujhe
(My eyes try finding you out)
Sochu Yahi Tu Aa Ke Thaamegi Maa
(Thinking you would come and hold me)
Unse Main Yeh Kehta Nahin
(I don’t tell that to him though)
Par Main Seham Jaata Hoon Maa
(But I withdraw within myself mother)
Chehre Pe Aane Deta Nahin
(I don’t allow that feeling to come on to my face)
Dil Hi Dil Mein Ghabraata Hoon Maa
(I keep within myself, but I do get frightened)
Tujhe Sab Hai Pata Hai Naa Maa
(You know everything mother)
Tujhe Sab Hai Pata Meri Maa
(You know everything my mother)



Main Kabhi Batlata Nahin
(I don’t tell it usually)
Par Andhere Se Darta Hoon Main Maa
(But I am scared of the darkness)
Yun To Main, Dikhlata Nahin
(Even though I do not show)
Teri Parwaah Karta Hoon Main Maa
(I care for you, mother)
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata, Hain Na Maa
(You know everything mother)
Tujhe Sab Hain Pata… Meri Ma
(You know everything my mother)

Love, that never was.

While the going was good, I was floating around. And as the going got tough she hurt me like no one ever did.

The last nail...

And with a careless mention that it was all a joke, she erased everything that was precious to me. Everything, including some of the happiest moments in my life.

Kattrin Mozhi - Language of breeze..

(Stephen Chettan did this one for me. Thanks a ton, chetta... This one's too good!)


Kattrin mozhi ……ozhiya yisaiya
Poovin mozhi …….niramma manamma

Kadalin mozhi……….alaiyaa nuraiyaa
Kadhal mozhi…..vizhiya yidhazha

The language of Breeze….. Is it sound or Music?
The language of flower……Is it colour or fragrance?

The language of the sea……Is it wave or froth?
The language of Love……. Is it eyes or lips?

Yiyarkain mozhigal purindhuvidu….. manidhanin mozhigal thevaiyillai
Yidhayathain mozhigal purindhuvidu …. Manidharkku mozhiye thevaiyillai

Kattrin mozhi ……ozhiya yisaiya
Poovin mozhi …….niramma manamma

Understand the languages of Nature, Mans languages becomes unnecessary
Understand the languages of Heart, Man requires no language.

The language of Breeze….. Is it sound or Music?
The language of flower……Is it colour or fragrance?

I

Kattru veesum bodhu dhisaigal kidaiyadhu
Kaadhal pesum bodhu mozhigal kidaiyaadhu
Pesum varthai pola mounam puriyaadhu
Kangal pesum vaarthai kadavul ariyaadhu

When the wind blows, there are no directions
When Love speaks, there are no languages
You cant understand silence like the words you speak
God doesn’t realize the words spoken by the eyes

Ulagai theriyum kaatrukku uruvam theetta mudiyaadhu
Kadhal pesum mozhiyellam sabdha kootil adangaadhu

Yiyarkain mozhigal purindhuvidu….. manidhanin mozhigal thevaiyillai
Yidhayathain mozhigal purindhuvidu …. Manidharkku mozhiye thevaiyillai

Kattrin mozhi …

You can’t carve an image for the breeze, which knows the world
The languages spoken by love cannot fit in the phonetic cage

Understand the languages of Nature, Mans languages becomes unnecessary
Understand the languages of Heart, Man requires no language.

The language of Breeze

II

Vaanam pesum peychhu thuliyaai veliyaagum
Vaanavilin peychhu niramai veliyaagum
Unmai oomaiyaanal kanneer mozhiyaagum
Penmai oomaiyaanal naanam mozhiyaagum

The language spoken by the sky will manifest as a drop
The language spoken by the rainbow will manifest as colours
When truth becomes dumb, tears become the language.
When womenhood becomes dumb, shyness becomes the language

Osai thoongum jaamathil uchchi meengal mozhiyagum
Aasai thoongum yidhaiyathil asaivvu kooda mozhiyaagum

Yiyarkain mozhigal purindhuvidu….. manidhanin mozhigal thevaiyillai
Yidhayathain mozhigal purindhuvidu …. Manidharkku mozhiye thevaiyillai

During the midnight hours, when sound sleeps, the stars on high become the language
For the heart in which desire sleeps, even a movement will become the language

Understand the languages of Nature, Mans languages becomes unnecessary
Understand the languages of Heart, Man requires no language.

Kattrin mozhi ……ozhiya yisaiya
Poovin mozhi …….niramma manamma

Kadalin mozhi……….alaiyaa nuraiyaa
Kadhal mozhi…..vizhiya yidhazha

The language of Breeze….. Is it sound or Music?
The language of flower……Is it colour or fragrance?

The language of the sea……Is it wave or froth?
The language of Love……. Is it eyes or lips?

Yiyarkain mozhigal purindhuvidu….. manidhanin mozhigal thevaiyillai
Yidhayathain mozhigal purindhuvidu …. Manidharkku mozhiye thevaiyillai

Understand the languages of Nature, Mans languages becomes unnecessary
Understand the languages of Heart, Man requires no language.

Kattrin mozhi …

The language of Breeze…

Last straw...

Let me have just one shot at life. I badly need my peace.