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.