tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14209375149414118812024-03-05T07:45:36.801-08:00Wild ImaginationBeauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.comBlogger135125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-62550112181499300352020-04-16T07:28:00.002-07:002020-04-16T07:28:10.695-07:00The Question<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US">“Is there a term for having sex when there is no love involved?” She asked stirring her coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Usually he found her presence in his house unwelcome. He had learned to tolerate her because of his wife. She seemed to enjoy her company and her incessant prying. She was a walking-talking tabloid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">But today her question piqued his curiosity. He pretended to be absorbed in his newspaper, while the women carried on with their conversation. They were used to ignoring his presence anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“Pleasure?” His wife replied. “Or maybe lust is more appropriate. Although there is pleasure in lust.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“No not that kind.” She looked up from her coffee. She stared into this distance as if gathering her thoughts and then looked back into her cup. “Maybe I am asking the wrong question.” She resumed stirring the coffee. “Is there a term when there is love but… no lust?” She looked up. Her eyes pleading to be understood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“A relationship with love but no sex?” His wife leaned back in her chair and thought about it. “It exists. Platonic relationships. I do believe opposite sexes can be friends. That two people from different genders can care very deeply about each other and still be friends.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">She sighed heavily as if disappointed by the answer. “No. Not friendship. Marriage.”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“Can two people be married and never make love?” His wife sounded a little shocked but got it rapidly under control. “It happens, I guess.” She shrugged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“Not make love,” she said so softly that he had to strain his hears to latch on to her next words. “Have sex.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“Make love. Have sex. Same difference.” His wife waved her hands in the air trying to explain her point. “When two people in love have sex, they are making love.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“Are they?” She questioned as she resumed her stirring. Her focus once again on the swirling brown-black liquid in her cup. “What if two people are in love and one wants to have sex and the other doesn’t,” He noticed how she refrained from using the work ‘make love’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“The act of sex has to be consensual.” His wife replied with finality to her voice. This was non-negotiable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“What if it is not?” She looked up. A faint glimmer of hope danced in her eyes. As if this conversation was finally going where she wanted it to. “What if one person wants to have sex and the other person does not want to, but they still end up having sex every night.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“Then its rape.” His wife replied in a soft voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“Now what if the two of them very much in love, were married?” She challenged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">His wife thought about it. “It is still rape.” She shook her head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Only the rhythmic clinking of the spoon stirred the silence that followed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“What if the man in the marriage felt this way,” he asked as he folded his newspaper. “Is it still rape?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-37314562344248280652020-04-15T06:02:00.002-07:002020-04-15T06:02:32.140-07:00Best Friends<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US">Her hand rested on his shoulder. The emerald in her ring trapped the yellow light of the dance floor and changed its colour to a muddy chrome. A disgusting colour which did absolutely nothing to dampen the beauty of the gorgeous ring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">He said something which made her laugh. She threw her head back exposing the length of her slender, fragile neck. She looked back into his eyes, leaned in closer and pressed her lips against his cheek. He broke into a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">He had that effect. He could make anybody laugh. And when he smiled; a shooting star zinged through a moonless night, leaving behind a trail of silver dusted dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">It had taken him five years to smile like that again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Five years ago, his wife had been a victim of a hit-and-run. It had crushed him. She suspected he was more shocked by her untimely death than the fact that she was no more. Truth be told, there was no love lost between them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">She had warned him to not get married. She was not the kind of woman he needed or deserved. She tried to talk to him out of making a mess of his life. That is what best friends do. But he hadn’t listened to a word. He seemed keen on making a fool of himself. And eventually, she had just let him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">It was annoying how men, and he in particular, were eager to mistake lust for love. And the world thought women were emotional fools.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Some months ago, he met another woman he believed he was in love with. After five years of grieving, or of coming to terms with the passing of his first wife; he had opened his heart once again. And once again, he had chosen the wrong woman.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">She would know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">She was his best friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">A date that ended up in bed had made him want to spend the rest of his life with her. She wanted to tell him things would not always be this way. He should know better by now. He had been married before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">But maybe death had glorified the marriage. He seemed to remember only the happy moments – the wedding, the parties, how people thought they looked good together etc. etc. Now he was doubly convinced that marriage was a happily-ever-after, magical space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">All of this had led to today. This engagement party, where he had put that beautifully ugly emerald ring on her finger and promised to love her forever. She wanted to tell him there was no such thing as forever. But instead, as good best friends are expected to do, she had given a speech at the dinner party and congratulated the newly engaged couple.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">She watched them dance. He with his shooting star smile and she with the beautifully ugly ring. She let out a long sigh. If only he listened to her. She knew him better than most. He was not in love and getting engaged was the second biggest mistake of his life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">She would have to stop him from making a third.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">She signaled for the bartender to replenish her drink. She gently swirled the scotch in her glass. She watched the golden liquid hug the ice cubes with every swirl and slid sensuously off the smooth surface. Like history repeating itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">It was a signal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">She would have to repeat history.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">He was just cursed to lose this partner in a hit-and-run as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-29934227984591271402020-04-13T22:26:00.000-07:002020-04-13T22:26:24.334-07:00Breakfast In Bed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He had stepped into this kitchen a million times. But never to cook. The thought of cooking for the very first time excited him. Doing it all on his own seemed so deliciously tough. His heart skipped a beat at the enormity of this challenge.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So what should he cook?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I don’t need something fancy!” she tried to explain last night. “Just something. Anything. No matter how simple, how small. Just a little gesture to show that you care. Is that too much to ask?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Something simple then. He leaned against the door of the fridge and looked around him. What simple thing could he cook? His eyes landed on the jar of her favorite coffee. He remembered how she loved to spend a moment just smelling the coffee before she spooned it into the coffee filter. It always brought a smile to her face. She saved this coffee for special occasions.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Coffee then.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First things first. He dragged a chair toward the cabinet and stepped on it. He understood that it was her favorite coffee. But what was the need to store it in the topmost cabinet? Of all the things available to steal in the house nobody was going after her coffee! Women!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He stretched toward the coffee jar. His fingertips grazed the cool glass. Almost there. He raised himself further on his toes and stretched a little more. With his index finger he pulled the coffee jar toward him. A little more. He watched as a bit of the base of the coffee jar peeped at him from the edge of the shelf. Just one more nudge.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The jar wobbled dangerously and then toppled off the shelf. He was quick to pull it toward him. Dropping the jar of her favorite coffee today would be a complete disaster. He twisted the jar open and spooned some coffee into the filter. Just like he had seen her do it. Add some water. How much water exactly?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He was beginning to think this cooking was not so much fun after all. Especially if you had to do it all alone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He reached for the dishcloth and threw it on the water. That water ought to clean itself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While the coffee he brewed, he pulled out the tray. He laid his favorite blue dish on it and then piled on four cookies on it. The ones with big chunky chocolate? They were delicious. This was turning out to be one awesome breakfast!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He waited patiently for the coffee to get done and then poured it into her mug. He picked the mug and then dropped it back. It was hot. He blew gently over his fingers. He fetched a fresh dishcloth from the drawer and picked the mug and placed it in the tray.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now to wake her up. He balanced the tray gently to the door of the bedroom. He nudged the door open with his butt and walked backward into the room. All his focus was on the tray. If he dropped it, this breakfast was ruined.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He made it to the bed and placed the tray on the small table next to it. She hadn’t woken up yet. He was feeling bad about the fight last night. She has been exhausted. She had spent the day at work, then cleaned the garden, then walked the dogs, then looked into homework and just when she was ready to call it a day, his dad had walked in announcing that he had invited friends for dinner. Especially to taste her special chicken curry. The one which required to be marinated and cooked for four hours. That is when they had fought. His dad and her.<br /><br />Did he care about her day? Did it cross his mind to help her out? Why was it her responsibility to cook? Every time. He should make the chicken pie this time! Forget the chicken pie, if he could only make dinner. Or even the breakfast for the next morning! When was the last time he had made anything for her? Just for her. So that she could get a break. Never. Why could she not get a break?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then the fight has escalated. He wanted to intervene but he did not.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He did not stop the fight last night but he could do something about it today.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Mommy?” he nudged her. She looked at him sleepily and then sat up wide awake.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What happened love? Are you okay?” She pulled him on the bed and hugged him close to her. She checked his forehead. His temperature seemed normal. “Why are you up so early?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I made you breakfast!” he pointed to the table next to her bed. On a tray sat four chocolate chunk cookies in a minion plate and hot cup of black of coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“This is the best breakfast in bed!” she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. She kissed his forehead. “The best ever!”</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-35060668633984828502020-04-13T10:59:00.002-07:002020-04-13T10:59:56.688-07:00The Haves & The Have Nots<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH9LvPZtUr2zM2aA3Mi0Fl22ea_FHIa67AxNOU_LZmgKgDalVMYZIsM5zh0fvjlOyMPNx5TsQ3YrwsyqLcP_4TjpzZxcYACsXzXXIgkN3Loa_vMHJ2eeiVUv08gejisHwdb3d8ExDcFaw/s1600/chai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="910" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH9LvPZtUr2zM2aA3Mi0Fl22ea_FHIa67AxNOU_LZmgKgDalVMYZIsM5zh0fvjlOyMPNx5TsQ3YrwsyqLcP_4TjpzZxcYACsXzXXIgkN3Loa_vMHJ2eeiVUv08gejisHwdb3d8ExDcFaw/s400/chai.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She cursed the chai as it singed her tongue and scorched its way down her throat. She thumped the little glass on the dry mud next to her and looked around for anything that would dull the burn. There was neither sugar nor water in sight. All she could see was some dirty water floating around in the half-burnt aluminum vessel next to the flat tire of the semi-permanent chai shop on wheels.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth seeking some comfort. It had not been her day. At all. Or week. Or month. When she had left early this morning, she was sure she would be returning with the first beginnings of a bright future. All discussions with the investors had been positive. Today was supposed to be the day when they finally signed on the dotted line and handed her a dream.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Instead, it had all gone south real fast. The investors were pausing any funding for the moment. Nothing against her business. They still believed in her concept. But it was just bad timing. She might not know a lot, but she could always make out bull shit when she heard it. There was little to do after that. She got back into the rental she had booked for the day and started doing the mental math.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the plush interior of the CRV she faced facts. The loans she had taken in hope of this investment had doubled her debts. She had to start paying back from the coming month. Without investment, her small business was not going to be able to bear the load of the piling debt. She had invested everything she had into putting up a show for the investors. In encouraging them to see the picture that she was seeing. And now she was left with nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She was broke.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She leaned her against the soft leather of the car seat and finally admitted that she was broke. And beat. That was when the car swerved sharply to the right and the driver drew it to a halt.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Madam, I think it’s a puncture, “ the driver apologized to her through the rearview mirror. “I have a spare. Just give me ten minutes.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Perfect!” She had thought to herself as she stepped out into the heat of an early summer. A mild breeze kept the weather bearable.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spotting the chai shop she decided to grab a cup while she was waiting. She found a rounded stone by the edge of the deserted road and sat on it. Her mind had started its negative spiral into highlighting her futile situation when she had burnt her tongue. Now she cursed the chai. Her tongue. Her fate. Herself. Just about everything. What she really needed was a distraction.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She spotted two kids playing under the shade of a tree not far from the chai shop. They seemed to be not more than ten years old. Both boys. They were dueling with twigs and laughing about something. She envied them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“My boys,” the <i>chaiwala</i> smiled. He must have spotted her staring at them. “Its summer vacation. School is closed. It is difficult to keep them home. They come here with me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“They go to school!” She exclaimed raising her eyebrows, her voice sounding every bit impressed as she was.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“It is what makes me wake up every morning and come here to make chai for passersby like you.” He nodded toward the boys. “ These two. All I can give them is a small home and some thirty-forty thousand saving. That’s it.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A home that nobody could drive them out of and money to buy them food. He was doing better than her. She wanted to tell him that. But she kept quiet. She had no idea how she was going to make money for rent next month. Her landlord would definitely drive her out. If she could, she would trade places with her in a heartbeat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The driver signaled that they were good to go once again. She smiled at the<i> chaiwala</i> and thanked him. She reached into her purse to fish out for some change.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Let it be madam,” the<i> chaiwala</i> smiled. “You looked like you really needed that chai. Think of it as a small gift.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She got into the car and rolled down her window. She watched the <i>chaiwala</i> walk to the boys and say something to them which made them laugh harder. She watched them diminish as the car sped away from them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The haves and the have nots.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-19940913183081608192016-03-30T07:45:00.002-07:002016-03-30T07:45:59.253-07:00A song for the road<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She gritted her teeth and punched
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car in front of her would continue to wink through the torrents cascading down
her windscreen. The rain washed dark green color of the filthy truck would
continue to obscure her view. The RJ would continue his mad chatter, as if he
were sitting on a different planet, in another galaxy with a satellite feed of
this traffic jam filling up some random monitor in his room. Nothing would
change. Yet, she had to do something. So she punched the horn. Again.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She glared at her iPhone settled
comfortably in the seat next to her. Dead. What a day to forget to carry your
car charger! She had a million calls to make. Why couldn’t the universe
understand that? Why did it have to rain in March? When did it ever rain in
March? She wanted to scream. There was nobody in the car but her. It would be
alright to scream. No one would hear her above the din of the rain and traffic.
But she could not. It was not who she was. So she punched the horn twice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She rested her forehead against
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">…<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ajeeb dastaan hai yeh...kaha shuru kaha khatm…</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The sun was setting against the
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patterned railing. Soft tendrils of smoke rose from dainty blue cups of chai.
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And sounds of the rain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She just sat there grinning from
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And she remembered the song. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She remembered the soft melody of
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And she had fallen in love with
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The last strains of the song
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But something was different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">She no longer felt like punching
the horn. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-7116021406234873562014-09-27T01:57:00.001-07:002014-09-29T11:07:04.630-07:00Monsters and Battles<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="List Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="List Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="List Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 5"/>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“The world is full of monsters,
darling,” he smiled as he tucked his three year old daughter under her soft
Winnie-the-Pooh blanket. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“What kind of monsters?” She
asked without looking at him. He watched as she carefully placed her stuffed
elephant on the small pillow next to hers and arranged the blanket around him.
She turned her black round eyes filled with questions on him and raised her
small eyebrows in demand. He had not answered her question yet. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“All sorts of monsters,” he
shrugged. “Some monsters are bad and the others much worse. They come in all
shapes and sizes. They wear all sorts of clothes. The bad monsters; they look
ugly. They are rude and mean and they scare little children away. But then you
realize that they are the least of your fears. The really bad monsters, the
worst kinds? They hide inside of people. They hide inside of the nicest of
people. And when nobody is watching; they come out. Unannounced. Unsuspected.
Which is what makes it so difficult to fight them. More than half the time you
don’t even know who you are fighting and why.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I don’t like the really really
bad monsters daddy,” she shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. He hadn’t
meant to scare her. He had just gotten carried away with his thoughts. He
wanted to reach out and console her. Tell her that it was all going to be ok.
But how could he? He was not sure if and ever anything would be ok. He gave her
a very watery smile and patted her hand.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Instantly she shed the blanket
aside and threw herself at him; her tiny arms wrapped tight around his neck. He
could smell faint baby soap and strawberry shampoo. She had just been bathed
before bed. He knew if he hugged her, he would feel the softness of her young
skin. He knew his touch would assure her. He knew her touch would trigger
emotions in him he was not willing to face. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“It will be ok daddy,” she
whispered in his ear, her soft breath dissipating against his cool skin. “I
know you will be there whenever a monster comes.” She kneeled on the bed in
front of him and held his face between her tiny hands. He winced invisibly. “Not
matter how big or bad the monster is and no matter how deep he hides, you will
save me from that monster.” It was not a request or a question. It was the most
obvious thing in her life. “You will do it because you love me daddy!” She
kissed the tip of his nose and wiggled back under the blankets. He watched her
little body squirm as she struggled to regain her position on the bed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I love you too daddy!” She
beamed at him. He smiled. He chucked her under her chin and mouthed and loving
good night. He turned the lights off and watched the moonlight filter in
through the partially opened window. The silver light settled like a halo
around her sleeping form. He sighed heavily and closed the door as he walked
out of the room.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He walked to his study and pulled
out the file buried in his last drawer. He had a past. A gruesome, ugly past.
This file was a reminder of that past. It was seven years ago. Sometimes those
seven years stretched to cover a lifetime, sometimes it was as close as
yesterday. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_O4oMWfwuloyq_pS2Hb4YDmtjbLizNlFJo2lZdv3bbF2YaYHOTFHpSh5xDRrkKO_D3XFkoWmA9dSm_sWRage-jy5nYPw_3BHjSaivq-nDSRZquuQqMZOynCflxlaP3oDN_U62rsREeQ/s1600/Mask_by_SabbathPhotography.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_O4oMWfwuloyq_pS2Hb4YDmtjbLizNlFJo2lZdv3bbF2YaYHOTFHpSh5xDRrkKO_D3XFkoWmA9dSm_sWRage-jy5nYPw_3BHjSaivq-nDSRZquuQqMZOynCflxlaP3oDN_U62rsREeQ/s1600/Mask_by_SabbathPhotography.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He had fallen in love with a five
year old little girl. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He had been enchanted with her.
He loved her touch, the feel of that soft skin under his fingers. He never
wanted to stop touching her. When she was around him the need to just reach out
and touch her was so physical that he hated himself for it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Thankfully before the urge
overpowered him, he had found his wife who had given him the strength to fight
this flaw in she had. She had given him the courage to grow into a normal human
being.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And she had given him a little
daughter, just before she died during delivery.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Every night he prayed that
tomorrow he would wake up to a grown up daughter, capable of looking after
herself. Someone who did not think of him as the savior when he was the very
monster she should be running from.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Every morning he woke up
realizing that his battles had just begun.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-76244270443346718042014-09-02T05:20:00.002-07:002014-09-02T05:20:18.298-07:00Friendship Request<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">On days like these; she hated the
internet. She knew she ought to do something more worthwhile but all she really
managed to do was scroll lamely down her FB Timeline. Some newlyweds had posted
pictures of their perfect honeymoon.<span> </span>If
their honeymoon was so perfect, they wouldn’t be spending time putting pictures
on FB!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Scroll to the next update.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Another friend who was hovering
in her forties, wanted to look like she was in her twenties and was gloating
about how a twenty something <i>hottie</i> had been hitting on her. Cougar. Or so he
must have thought at least. Young men always had a thing for women twice their
age or something like that.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Scroll.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Birthday. To wish or not to wish?
The last time she had interacted with this person had been about seven years
ago. Of course every year he dutifully posted a “Happy Birthday” on her
timeline and she replied with a thank you, but did that qualify as an
interaction. Postpone the wish.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Scroll.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Not more baby pictures! Agreed
the baby is really cute. But frankly, now the world was overdosing on the
pictures. Even the number of likes on the oh-so-cute had dwindled to a mere
four, which she was sure was<i> mummy, papa, dada</i> and <i>dadi</i>. And this was so not
the baby’s fault!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ping!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She frowned and scrolled all the
way to the top of the page. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A friend’s request.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Curious she explored further. The
second she saw his picture, her heart stopped beating. Again. Like it used to
in high school when he wore those funny half pants and she sported ugly
pigtails. She found him unbearably handsome then and right now he was Adonis!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She quickly clicked to check more
about him. If he was married there was no way she was accepting this friend’s request. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Relationship Status: It’s
complicated.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Complicated? Complicated was her
middle name. She could do complicated. He was the Director of some company
called Mo’sse. Since he was heavy into music and arts, she figured it would
have to do something with either. She should have been Sherlock! </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She could be Sherlock reborn.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">There was link to his company.
She could explore it. But why bother right now? Since he had sent her the
request like a minute ago, the chances were high that he was still online. She
should respond to his request ASAP!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But why had he sent her a friend’s
request after all these years? Had he chanced upon her through common friends
or actually bothered to search for her on the vast web world?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She quickly checked to see if
they had any mutual friends. Seven of them. All from school. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She was hardly in touch with any
of them. But he seemed to be. What if they had told him she was a snob? What if
he was getting in touch with her out of sheer curiosity? What if the
complicated part of his relationship was one of the common friends they had?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Did she want such a mess in her
life right now?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She stared at his picture again.
He was unfairly handsome. She clicked on accept and sighed.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She could do complicated.
Complicated was her middle name. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></div>
</div>
Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-71999791282605221412014-03-09T23:42:00.000-07:002014-03-09T23:43:10.835-07:00The Song<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
A warm memory</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Beats in her heart</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Innocent giggles</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Of a girl from her past</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She weaves a dream</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
From that sunny laugh</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And keeps it in a raindrop</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Which is a part of a song</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Then some day</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When she trips and falls</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When she is pushed</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Up against the wall</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She finds this song</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And hums the tune</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Of dewdrops kissing </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The sun in June</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That little girl</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She laughs again</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
As the raindrops sing</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Her happy refrain<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
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</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-50016760757996105422014-02-12T23:42:00.000-08:002014-02-12T23:42:00.767-08:00Just one color<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
With colors of rage</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I paint the day</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And then embrace </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The dark of the night</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I see you stare </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And walk away</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You'd never understand</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Why I feel this way</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
With a soft whisper</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And a cold kiss</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
With a warm hug</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The oldest fix</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A new color</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Makes its way</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Brighter and bolder</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Than any other shade</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It dulls the rage</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It kills the fear</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It paints a new dream</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This one color</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
As a part of the <a href="http://poetsonthepage.blogspot.in/2014/02/february-poetry-mini-challenge-name-it.html" target="_blank">Poets of the Page Mini Challenge - Day 2</a></div>
</div>
Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-12038027964551898712014-02-12T23:23:00.001-08:002014-02-12T23:24:15.319-08:00Russet Wait<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
Words lost in moments</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A hope they find their way</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To the rusting stop</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
By the sunset strip</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Where dreams still await</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHENyRLpG9fY9QwpEI5cn_SrjjJMnj4XcoYKvb2C_5sFDZtuwev9siYocHny11_wObaYl2IbWoAycUH24jk6oTdyZM-96k1KfFikU1ztlHNl6B8FMCGuxS7t7rCpBgJt-DCBWAo4EXlk/s1600/arid+mail+pixlr.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHENyRLpG9fY9QwpEI5cn_SrjjJMnj4XcoYKvb2C_5sFDZtuwev9siYocHny11_wObaYl2IbWoAycUH24jk6oTdyZM-96k1KfFikU1ztlHNl6B8FMCGuxS7t7rCpBgJt-DCBWAo4EXlk/s1600/arid+mail+pixlr.jpg" height="260" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
As a part of Poets of the <a href="http://poetsonthepage.blogspot.in/2014/02/poetry-prompt-february-mini-challenge.html" target="_blank">Page - Mini Challenge - Day 1</a></div>
Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-29793305759481737762013-10-02T09:16:00.005-07:002013-10-02T09:16:59.227-07:00Hide and Seek<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
On the silver wings of the gliding geese</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In the winks of the midnight stars</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Under pillows of clouds floating in the breeze </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Between the colors of the rainbow bars</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On the toes of the dancing waves</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In the soft grains of the slipping sand</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In the reflections of the blades of grass</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Blushing green under the gaze of the sun</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Are words hiding alone and lost</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Waiting for that reason or cause</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To bind them so tight and close as one</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as random verses of a beautiful poem</div>
<br />
<br />
Written for the OctPoWriMo Day #2<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB1PpuHurtzEuN39v3you2TB4LEvdRNeqjrMvNBhXw-VSZDtCjFhFFFw6JBYe-ASkSBdtCG4pXF1S6cxKPu9122gvJONa8uJCettiTMJ-pALipPGkMx4vcOhwszZB0sEhI5r-YS_gKJII/s1600/35a81-journal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB1PpuHurtzEuN39v3you2TB4LEvdRNeqjrMvNBhXw-VSZDtCjFhFFFw6JBYe-ASkSBdtCG4pXF1S6cxKPu9122gvJONa8uJCettiTMJ-pALipPGkMx4vcOhwszZB0sEhI5r-YS_gKJII/s1600/35a81-journal.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-53631804213673374592013-10-01T10:51:00.002-07:002013-10-01T10:51:41.798-07:00Pyre of Desires<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
A hurried glance gone astray<br />
Like a thought who had lost her home<br />
Lands on a stranger's face<br />
Stirs feelings that were not there before<br />
<br />
A smile that lasts all night long<br />
Whispers which wake up the dawn<br />
A wish that lingers on<br />
Like the fading shades of the moon<br />
<br />
Every moment then and now<br />
Blur the lines between right and wrong<br />
All that's good burns in a fire<br />
On this raging pyre of desires</div>
<br />
Written for the OctPoWriMo<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3aughYdVyIIYyw_pCyKikCVhQ52bTZDfm_t3jVmPgg9N3Vbu_CMGdRSYLVP8mDhrYsemk5mkkdStAwUv-Wx52mFkzJooXk4CDqA2OsL7q_6wHWEFlD7OKIeQ8OWmIraUud5Bm2ONHQE/s1600/35a81-journal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3aughYdVyIIYyw_pCyKikCVhQ52bTZDfm_t3jVmPgg9N3Vbu_CMGdRSYLVP8mDhrYsemk5mkkdStAwUv-Wx52mFkzJooXk4CDqA2OsL7q_6wHWEFlD7OKIeQ8OWmIraUud5Bm2ONHQE/s1600/35a81-journal.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-24007464977072908882013-06-17T07:44:00.002-07:002013-06-17T07:45:17.808-07:00And then it rained!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5mJ5oRfBcvulnj1pHTBsFgQC_VxZ3sq6JNlgALN4q8Rs3YY4_T5a8FuaBd9mEw0ZtZJEQyTQ7MU-M5U8AP1-ywp5x7v23OhxGbml9mFdzNUdefwCRWAXEtfOzNJ-kvf4QcnTZjGFTd-k/s1600/wine_rain.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5mJ5oRfBcvulnj1pHTBsFgQC_VxZ3sq6JNlgALN4q8Rs3YY4_T5a8FuaBd9mEw0ZtZJEQyTQ7MU-M5U8AP1-ywp5x7v23OhxGbml9mFdzNUdefwCRWAXEtfOzNJ-kvf4QcnTZjGFTd-k/s1600/wine_rain.jpg" /></a> </div>
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“You have been pushing this for long,” She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. “It is your birthday party you know!” Even a deaf man could not miss her emphasis on ‘is’. When she received no reply, she took in a deep breath. “Ten minutes,” she announced. “I can keep them entertained without you for ten minutes. Tops! After that they want to be with you. They are here for you. You have no right to deny them that!” She turned and stomped towards the door. With one hand on the doorknob she tilted her head to make herself more audible and said softly, “those people are here because they love you. Don’t disappoint them.”</div>
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<i>Love</i>. She smirked. The people on the other side of the door did not <i>love</i> her! They wanted her. They needed her. But they did not love her. Half of them wanted what her money could buy, the other half needed her networks. Not one amidst the three hundred people come to celebrate her birthday had really come because they loved her! She swirled the glass in her wine and watched the ruby fluid slide smoothly down the walls of the goblet. In the gathering pool of red at the bottom of her glass were dreams drenched in her blood, relationships she had sacrificed and love she had murdered.<br />
All of this to get to the top of an empty space where bodies are mummified in their ambitions. Where money was the embalming fluid which preserved the fake beauty of human artifacts and real human beings looked in through glass windows coveting the delusional glory. She swallowed the remaining wine in one gulp and was about to pour herself another glass when she caught her reflection in the mirror.</div>
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Her dress was dazzling. It was created by one of the top designers. He had spent a month thinking what her birthday dress would be. Not because he wanted it to reflect who she was, he wanted it speak of who she had become. He wanted it to be covered by the journalists and for another month he wanted to be the talk of the town. He had not done a bad deal either. Soft golden silk hugged her curves sensuously before flowing down in asymmetrical frills just above her knee. Her narrow waist was accentuated by a Swarowski studded belt which glinted gold in the harsh yellow light of dressing table. <br />
She moved her eyes upwards to the bare column of her neck. Further up to her garish red lips which people found so luscious, up the bridge of her nose to her eyes. Long ago someone had told her that her eyes reflected her soul. She squinted at the black pearly staring back at her. She wanted to see something left of her soul. Some hope. Some light. Some glint. Something. Anything. She searched the black orbs with an intensity she did not know she possessed. She needed to find her soul in those eyes. She looked frantically. </div>
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Yet all that stared back at her were two lifeless dots, rimmed with spectacular make-up. She swallowed a sob. Her eyes sparked to life at that. She swallowed another small lump of tears. Her eyes shimmered awake. Dancing delicately on the gold sprinkled mascara were the first traces of her tears. They looked like they might have traces of her soul in them. She blinked hard. She could not let those tears flow. They were all she had! </div>
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The tears rolled down nevertheless. They took whatever little life she had left with them. <br />
Angrily she grabbed the bottle of wine and stumbled towards the balcony. She raised the bottle to her lips and took long swigs which did nothing to calm her. It smelled lovely outside. It smelled of careless summers and grass swept monsoons. It smelled like the blush of a teenager having her first crush. She lifted her button nose into the air and inhaled deeply. </div>
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She started a little. It took her by surprise. She drew her hand under her nose, where she could see it better. There, right under her third knuckle was the crystal clear drop of rain. She smiled. It seemed to smile back at her. Another drop joined him as he plopped on her wrist. Another one landed on her hand. She was sure she was catching some in her hair. </div>
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They started multiplying rapidly all over her body. They danced in the faint magic created by the city lights. She laughed at their performance. Suddenly they were everywhere. On her expensive golden dress, on her silly red lips, on her mosaic tiled terrace, everywhere! There was a huge rumble which shook her to her bones.</div>
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And then it rained!</div>
Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-89889887772672159082013-06-13T21:24:00.000-07:002013-06-13T21:25:17.299-07:00Rainwashed Memory<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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He was running late. Usually by this hour he was in his cabin zapping out task lists and planning his day. He knew weekday parties was a very bad idea. Yet he had given in and gone out. One drink led to a tempting conversation inviting more drinks. The result was that he had embarrassed himself and was tugging along a very irritating hangover. Now, just because he had to pick up those very annoying but very effective aspirins from an apothecary five minutes out of his way, he was even getting late to work!</div>
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He cursed himself under his breath as he fumbled around in his massive jacket pockets for some change. He slapped it on the counter, flashed a pasted smiled, grabbed his bottle of aspirins and headed out in a hurry. A gentle drizzle slapped his face. He grunted. This is exactly what he needed. He made a mental note to hate June . He stood a little away from the door of the apothecary and took a deep calming breath. He wriggled his toes inside his stonewashed shoes. His yoga instructor insisted it aided blood circulation and helped calm the mind. </div>
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He watched little crystals of droplet hit the gray pavement and crash into a million splinters before disappearing completely. The sight was in equal parts heart wrenching and absolutely beautiful. He watched them for a couple of seconds more and then looked up.</div>
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That’s when he saw her.</div>
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The thin film of rain did nothing to hide her from his sight. She stood on the other side of the road fumbling with her umbrella. He watched her lips move. He knew she was talking to the umbrella, coaxing it open up. Like always, her lips reminded him of rich plums flirting with sun; their shade just the right kind of crimson, like wine made from the finest of grapes, aged to perfection. She had cut her hair. They now hung in soft curls around her neck. The gentle breeze ruffled through those curls drawing them over her face. She would angrily brush them away. The breeze would naughtily come right back.</div>
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He wanted to be the breeze.</div>
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He stood there watching her bottle green dress billow around her long legs. He could not move even if he wanted. The weight of memories of things unsaid between them anchored him to his spot. He watched with quiet fascination as she finally managed to get her umbrella open. She held it above her head. A slight frown still creased her forehead as she looked left and right, unsure of what she was looking for. </div>
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His heart skipped a beat.</div>
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Would she look at him? He felt his heart wake up and kick into gear. What would he do if she did look at him? Should he wave out to her? Should he cross the distance and walk up to her? He should have done that years ago. It was too late now. </div>
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That thought calmed him. It was too late. There were years of silence he could not explain or unfold.<br />
He watched her hitch her bag higher on her shoulder. She turned away from him and started walking. He stood staring at the now empty spot where he had seen her. One by one the memories rose. They always did. Each more poignant than the other, each more colorful. One by one, the rain bleached the memories of all color, till all that was left was a heavy sadness hanging from his shoulders.</div>
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His phone buzzed. Someone form work was trying to reach out to him. He smirked. How ironical was it that certain moments brought your world to a standstill and certain moments taught you that life moves on. <br />
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Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-24280349224908780212012-04-09T22:32:00.000-07:002012-04-09T22:35:41.851-07:00Storm Petrel<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The sun touched the surface of the blue waters, causing it to shiver ever so slightly. As if thrilled at the warm golden touch after a night out in the cold. A tiny bird swooped to the water, scattering diamonds of drops on the surface. Each eager to trap a bit of the sun and light themselves up. The little bird rose sunwards and circled the sky, watching its own creation draw sparkling patterns in the silent hour. Dissatisfied, she dipped again, causing another stir, another ripple, another pattern. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">She watched from the deck of the ship as another bird joined the first one. Together they continued to draw on the canvas of the sea, with the gold of the sun for paints. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“It’s a storm petrel,” he said. She angled her head so she could look at him better. How did he manage to move so stealthily? Or maybe she was just wooly headed. “Sorry?” </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“Those birds out there,” he waved towards the two artists slowly being joined by more and more like minded birds, “they are called the storm petrels.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">She smiled. He would know. It was what had attracted her to him in the first place. How he seemed to know so much about the sea he loved. She looked back to the birds that kept splashing to the sea and soaring to the sun, weaving invisible threads which formed the horizon. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“How do you know?” She challenged, certain he would have an answer. “They are barely more than dots against the sky.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“Oh a multiple number of reasons,” he said evasively, “like the wind’s picking up. I can smell the rain which has just drenched them. And far beyond this horizon, lurk the clouds which carry this rain. But above all, sometimes deep within your heart, you just know.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">She sighed. “When you talk like that, it is difficult to not fall for you.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“Like what?” he smiled, and a dimple dented his left cheek. He moved to stand next to her and leaned on the railing. She barely managed to breathe. The wind caressing his skin inches away from hers sent impulses which numbed her thoughts. “Like what?” He prompted. His eyes caught hers. They were like the ocean at night. Forever changing colors, from a smoky black to steel gray, depending on his mood. His mood was a mischievous charcoal right now. “Like what?” He whispered for a third time.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“Like there is a poet haunting your sailor’s soul,” she whispered. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“When you talk like that,” he moved closer, the smile on his lips threatening to merge with hers. “I feel like a storm petrel.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“What?” She frowned and pulled her head inches away from his. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“Monogamous,” he explained.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“Whatever happened to the poet within you?” she laughed. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“The storm scared him off,” he straightened up.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“What storm?” She asked confused. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“The ones the petrels are warning you about,” he smiled.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">She looked out to the ocean. It was windy. But then out on the ocean it was always windy. As far as she could see the skies were devoid of any threatening clouds. The storm petrels sure had increased in number and were gathering closer to the ship. She looked at him and frowned. He shrugged his shoulders. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“Whenever there is a storm approaching, the petrels get closer to the ship. When the storm hits, the hide in the shadow of the ship. So in a way they warn us of an approaching storm. It is why they are known as the storm petrels.” He explained.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">There it was again. His vast knowledge which drove her insane. She stared at him. His eyes changed from charcoal to a stunning gray. “Look behind you,” he urged her. She turned her back on him. Thick black clouds were frothing at the horizon. Of course he had to be right. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">“I warned you,” he whispered against her ear. Once again she was taken aback by how silently he moved. “A storm is approaching.” Something in his voice made her snap her eyes back to him. He was grinning. He raised his hands and pushed her shoulders. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">She was too stunned to react. She felt her feet leave the ground as she plummeted over the railing, into the glittering ocean below. Startled, the storm petrels chattered violently. The splash as she hit the waters drowned out their frenzied chirping.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Then everything went blank. </span><br /><br /></div>Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-25865175563885589752011-09-22T21:50:00.000-07:002011-09-22T22:05:44.261-07:00Being a woman<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTKQRDrKM-dxa6iZR5oo7Uz1cObDawkSJpSjYEvJgnbCbT7DDj8vIKhpYol6jDsGQBlYkzPFHmjJvr3zocqgblgGEmcS4BFxq6UpBQHcy7ytwFpGXTuNDOe-PdC_Uy8uGRT7cs8PH2IM/s1600/00669-funny-cartoons-young-love.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 296px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTKQRDrKM-dxa6iZR5oo7Uz1cObDawkSJpSjYEvJgnbCbT7DDj8vIKhpYol6jDsGQBlYkzPFHmjJvr3zocqgblgGEmcS4BFxq6UpBQHcy7ytwFpGXTuNDOe-PdC_Uy8uGRT7cs8PH2IM/s320/00669-funny-cartoons-young-love.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655416586194919890" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >He: hey</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />She: Hey!!!</span><br /> <span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Have been waiting to hear from you </span> <span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" > <br /> How have you been?</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />He: good</span> <br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >She: That's good to know</span><br /> <span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Are you busy?</span><br /> <span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I could always talk to you later?</span> <br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >He: No</span> <br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >She: Have u hurt ur fingers<br /> or something?<br /></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >u seem to have difficulty typing</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />He: lol</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />She: wasnt trying to make u laugh</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" > <br /> at least not consciously</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />He: :)</span><br /><br /> <span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >She: This is so bloody annoying</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" > <br /> Why do I have to reply in 3 sentences</span><br /> <span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >To ur stupid one word replies</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />He: chill! ur just bein a woman</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span>Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-91428648191791038262011-09-15T00:21:00.000-07:002011-09-15T00:22:28.481-07:00August Rain<div style="text-align: justify;">Strangers did not make her squeamish. They just put her off. They were like these big bad clouds ruining her perfect August morning. They wouldn’t rain, nor would they let the winds flirt with the pootted pink petunias on her window sill. They would just stay stubbornly sulking in the skies blocking out a perfectly gorgeous sun. A bundle of useless murky colored fluff- that’s what they were; the clouds and the strangers.<br /><br />The minute she saw him lean against the bar counter and whisper to the bartender, she knew her peace was about to be shattered. For that past half an hour he had been darting quick glances her way. She assessed her response to his glances. Did staring back with a frown on your face qualify as an invitation? Not the last time she checked. Did swiveling on the bar stool and turning her back on him mean he could offer her a drink? The rules had sure changed since the past week.<br /><br />The bartender got busy with mixing drinks. He settled down on the stool , careful to avoid looking at her. If he looked at her before the steward got her the drink, he would come across as too eager. If he did not look at her at all, it would be flippant. If he looked at her after she was given the drink, he would come across as a coward. The timing would have to be just right. She knew that. Been there done that.<br /><br />Would his timing be right? She narrowed her eyes at him. His hair was thick and cut stylishly short. Definitely an expensive hair stylist. So he was a man who cared about his looks. Was that good or bad? It could mean he was immensely self absorbed, or it could mean he simply liked to look good. Did he look good? His jaw was square cut in a very Tom Cruise way, that definitely worked in his favor. His lips had a pout that just missed being feminine, making them look very kissable in a romantic sort of way. His nose seemed to be a problem. It was fine till mid-length but seemed to flare a little too much for her taste. If only she could see his eyes. In the dim lighting of the bar, with his face turned away from her there was no way she could see his eyes. But the eyes were the key to the truth of his soul.<br /><br />Her scrutiny was interrupted by the steward at her elbow. She looked at him. He was leaning his elbow on the bar, his head turned towards her with a confident smile stretching his tempting lips. Timing. He had gotten the timing right. She picked the glass off the tray and raised a toast to him. He lifted his glass in response but did not make a move to come towards her. Smart move. He could not afford to seem too desperate now.<br /><br />She eyed the bomb pop handed to her. A tiny smile made its presence felt. He had noticed what she was drinking. Actually he had more than just noticed, he had actually identified her drink! Not everybody knew what a bomb pop was. That was one up for him. She took a hesitant sip of the drink. An eyebrow popped in appreciation all of its own accord. She looked at him bewildered. The drink was perfectly laced with an extra hint of lemonade. Just the way she liked it.<br /><br />He moved off the stool and walked towards her. She watched his every step. The way his blue shirt clung to his torso, the way his long legs swallowed the distance between them. The way his eyes never left her.<br /><br />“Hope nothing’s wrong with the drink,” he smiled. Confident. Sassy. His voice was gruff. Had he already had one drink too many? If he did; it did not show.<br /><br />“Its perfect. Thank you.”<br /><br />“I noticed you frown through the evening,” he leaned against the table. “Was going to blame it on the drink.”<br /><br />“Guess you were wrong. The drink had nothing to do with it!” She meant to be rude, but her voice had a smile in it.<br /><br />“I figured that out when you turned your back on me,” he laughed.<br /><br />“And yet you choose to buy me a drink?”<br /><br />“I cant help it if you have an irresistibly sexy back!” He defended. Mischief poured through his eyes, which she noticed were a crazy shade of hazel.<br /><br />Sometimes, she told herself as she sipped her bomb pop, grey clouds burst into a bubble of rains. And in an instant the weather changes. August rains, she confessed, were the most beautiful thing she had ever experienced.<br /><br /></div>Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-15333217774975537792011-06-01T04:35:00.000-07:002011-06-01T04:36:58.541-07:00Almost Stranger<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">“Good Lord Anamika!” Sejal screeched in mock horror, “since when did you start liking that awful shade of blue?”<br /><br />Anamika smiled and shook her head at her best friends theatrics. “Its called powder blue by the way,” she informed Sejal. In response Sejal threw her elegant neck back in a scoff. Anamika absently stirred her coffee, as she watched Sejal go through the routine of folding her expensive snake skin jacket across the back of her chair. Her Burberry bag was given a seat of its own at their table. She rolled back the sleeves of her white silk top and pulled a menu towards her.<br /><br />Leaving her friend to do a critical appraisal of what was on offer at the newly opened café, she turned to stare out of the glass panes that shielded the café from the rest of the city. Her eyes roamed over the array of colors over restless feet. Each a stranger to the one less than a foot away. An occasional step out of sync made the strangers either smile at each other, or frown their disdain. Either way, it was a discord which made them acknowledge the presence of another human being.<br /><br />“It used to be my favorite color you know,” she said suddenly, startling Sejal out of the menu. “Back when Rishabh and I were dating; powder blue used to be my favorite color,” she smiled. Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes and she forced her smile wider in an attempt to cover them up.<br /><br />The steward chose that moment to collect their orders. Sejal hastily ordered a hazelnut latte and diet sandwich. Anamika continued to stir her coffee. Sejal fidgeted for a couple of seconds adjusting the pearls in her ears. It was the only way she could stop herself from pushing Anamika into a conversation.<br /><br />“This,” Anamika looked down at her powder blue shirt and blinked, “is a birthday gift from Rishabh. He still remembers I like powder blue.”<br /><br />“Uhuh,” Sejal nodded. “That’s bull shit!”<br /><br />“Sorry?”<br /><br />“You used to like powder blue Ann. Like Ten years ago! Your fav color now is purple! The whole world knows that!” Sejal sat back and grinned plastically at Anamika.<br /><br />“And I used to think Rishabh and I would remain best friends for life,” Anamika rested her elbows on the table and leaned on them. She squinted once again at the glass panes, “Like ten years ago? I really believed that Rishabh would remain my best friend forever.”<br /><br />“That sounds like high school talk Ann and you know that,” Sejal reasoned. “It sounds like a girl who dreams of a prince charming on a white horse with a happily ever after. You are not that girl, anymore! You have grown up! And grown ups understand the concept of change. Everybody changes. Some a little more than others. It happens all the while!”<br /><br />“Yeah yeah I know. I changed. I like purple instead of blue. He changed. He likes brown instead of black. But see?” Anamika leaned a little more towards Sejal. “I know he changed. I am aware he changed. I know what he has changed into. I accept it. But he still thinks I am the Ann he married seven years ago.”<br /><br />“What’s that supposed to mean?”<br /><br />“It means I still get powder blue gifts on birthdays, it means that he does not know I’d rather eat subway instead of chinese, that I like baking over cooking and that somewhere it hurts so bad that he has no time to notice this change!” A tiny tear slipped right down her cheek this time. She fumbled in her purse and pulled out a tissue. “Ten years ago, I fell in love with a stranger who became my best friend,” she sniffed, “ten years later my best friend is an almost stranger.”<br /><br /></div>Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-55686148773250363492011-04-26T02:21:00.000-07:002011-04-26T02:24:14.001-07:00Goodbye<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Tears shivered on the brink of her reddened eyes. Unable to stay back, afraid of falling over the edge. A cowardly tear, unable to bear the pain, tumbled down the corner. It traveled all the way to her lip, leaving a shimmering path in its wake. It trembled momentarily, uncertain once again and then plunged down her lip.<br /><br />She brushed an impatient hand against her lips. The ring on her finger bruising their swollen gentleness. She sniffed and cleared her throat. She took two steps backwards, increasing the distance between him and her. Her stone studded stilettos clicked softly but firmly on the spotless white tiles. The click a whisper of an echo in the stillness which surrounded her.<br /><br />She watched him, as he threw his head back and laughed. The sunlight caught in his soft brown hair and made it look rustier than usual. She would remember him this way. She promised herself she would. For her, he would always laugh. <br /><br />She tugged the red scarf free off her neck. For a moment she rubbed the satin smoothness between her fingers. She wondered if he remembered the scarf. It was not the only red thing they shared. One a rainy day, years ago, she had lovingly tied it around his neck. The red a perfect compliment to his fair skin.<br /><br />The tears sprung again. And this time they did not hesitate. A drop landed on the scarf in her hand, darkening the shade of that spot to a much deeper red. Another tear soon followed. She looked away, blinking fast, as if that could stop the years of yearning. The tears had another plan in mind.<br /><br />She crumpled to the floor unable to bear their torturous onslaught. The red scarf clutched tightly in a grip. It matched everything around it – the white tiles, her simple black dress, the pale hand it was clutched in. After a couple of moments she got to her feet. She tied the red scarf around the handle of the window. She watched for a moment longer as the glass between them muted his movements to her.<br /><br />He looked happy.<br /><br />“Goodbye, son” She whispered, uncaring that her farewell went unheard. She spun on her heels and headed out of the door.<br /><br />She leaned for a moment against the door of her car and closed her eyes. Yes, he was laughing. For her, he would always laugh. She opened the door of the car and slid inside. She would always be able to picture him in the blink of an eye.<br /><br />Always.<br /><br />So how was it possible that she would never see him again?<br /><br /><br /></div>Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-2423242594339984602011-03-16T01:05:00.000-07:002011-03-16T01:07:42.552-07:00Stuck<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Love? An over rated four letter world which drives men up the wall with women chasing them to the high ceilings. There is nothing fantastic about love. No major mystery which science cannot solve. Attraction is easily explained by chemistry. Intoxication could not be better defined than the Jack Daniels burning down his throat this very moment. Jack Daniels could in seconds strip love to its barest existence, which was in end effect no existence at all. Then why was he sparing so much thought berating the non-existent entity?<br /><br />Black curls. Damn those black curls! It was those black curls which got him thinking of love. Soft, as if the clouds had abandoned the skies and surrendered to the temptation of framing her face with darkness. Lush like they had parted from the bosom of a turbulent sea. It was those damned curls which tempted him to go back to her. Those curls and those heart shaped lips. Just thinking of the way her full upper lip slightly over shadowed the line of pink below it made him want to kiss her. Again.<br /><br />Her caramel eyes would widen, first with shock and then with pleasure. They would change to a darker brown as shades of desire rained down upon them. Thick black lashes would slowly curtain them from his view as she drowned in the temptation he created. He so desperately wanted to kiss her again. He sloshed some more whiskey in his glass and downed it one gulp. It did nothing to aid the searing fire building within him.<br /><br />He walked briskly to the window. Outside the city lay scattered, its crazy lights blinking in a futile effort to draw the attention away from the madness of its existence. A lot like love, he thought. Scattered, with no idea of where to go or how to go, blinded by momentary flashes of that which could never last. He rested his palm on the cool glass pane. Vapors outlined the contours of his thick strong fingers.<br /><br />He remembered the way they looked against her skin. Brown streaks of harsh strong passion blemishing the cream of her vanilla skin. She shivered at his touch. Not from fright, but from the joy of anticipation. Her skin was smooth, the kinds you wanted to touch forever. He pulled his hand away from the glass. The way he was thinking about her one would think she was the first woman he had ever been with.<br /><br />In many ways she was. No other woman had made him feel like this. No other woman had generated any emotion in him whatsoever. They had been willing means to an end. The biology of the human existence making some moments of life a little more bearable than the rest. She defied science. Science would set a throbbing between his legs, she made his heart thud in his ears.<br /><br />Was he in love? He reached for the almost empty Jack Daniels and poured it out in his glass. The answer to that question could mean the beginning of an end.<br /><br /></div>Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-37770180347340129502011-01-11T22:45:00.000-08:002011-01-11T22:46:03.559-08:00Strangers<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">She woke up to the sound of early morning birds. Her thick dark lashes, sticky from the mascara she had used last night, seemed reluctant to go off each other. Her cheeks lifted in a slight smile. Her smile said she was happy. For the moment at least. She stretched her small body to work off the last vestiges sleep. Her hand touched smooth skin. Still smiling she sat up in bed, dragging the sheet along with her. It crumpled at her waist and exposed his delicious back to her.<br /><br />In the soft glow of the golden dust, his back looked a rich bronze. Muscles rippled beneath his leathery skin as he tucked his hands under his head and settled into a deeper sleep. She could not stop herself from touching that tempting back just once more. His skin was warm. Inviting.<br /><br />Like him.<br /><br />“You look lonely tonight,” he had said. And she had been. It had been a big mistake to come to party. It still hurt to see her ex with another woman. Any other woman. She had thought she was over him. But the loud night with its even louder music was teaching her otherwise. He on the other hand had no issues grinding his hips with the other girls at the club. It sickened her. She sought refuge at the bar. She had never been a heavy drinker and she was not about to start now. But she was definitely tempted to test the theory of alcohol being able to drown all else.<br /><br />And that’s where he had found her. She watched as he leaned an elbow on the bar table and settled his glass more firmly between his long fingers. He had a gorgeous smile. A perfect line of lips encircling perfect white teeth. His right cheek caved into a dimple making him look innocent and sensuous at the same time. Was he really talking to her? Her ex had made it clear that no man with all his parts intact was likely to find her attractive at first sight. And given the way this man looked, he would have better luck than her ex in finding hot women to take home.<br /><br />“I think you could use some company,” he said when she hadn’t spoken. She frowned at him. “What are you drinking?” He pointed with his eyes to her now empty glass.<br /><br />“Martini,” she replied automatically. He raised his eyebrows in either wonder or appreciation, she would never know. He signaled the bartender to refill her glass and settled himself on the bar stool next to her.<br /><br />She had no idea why she was letting this absolutely handsome stranger buy her a drink. Some tiny part of her wished her ex was watching every bit of this. She wanted him to feel like he was missing out on something big by leaving her behind. She felt like she had lost something big when he had walked out on her without a second glance. She shook her head to clear her thoughts of him.<br /><br />“Want to talk about what’s bothering you?” he asked helpfully. He had a voice like rich dark chocolate. It warmed you from the inside.<br /><br />“Spare me the psychobabble,” she replied rudely, annoyed at herself for being lustily attracted to this complete stranger.<br /><br />“Sorry?”<br /><br />“All that bull crap about how talking to a stranger is easier because he is a stranger kind of crap,” she explained lamely. He laughed. A rich sound which left a tingling sensation right down to her toes.<br /><br />“I have a better theory,” he said looking straight into her eyes.<br /><br />“Really?” She challenged.<br /><br />“Sex with a stranger!”<br /><br />It was her turn to laugh. He shrugged his shoulder and took a sip of whatever he was drinking. “Think about it.” He was not looking at her but looking somewhere straight ahead. “There are so many times when words are not enough to express exactly what you feel. Love. Hate. Anger. Frustration. Sorrow. Whatever. There is no exact way in which to say it. So many times when you find the right stranger to shoulder you feelings, but you don’t know how or what to say.” He looked at her, “I say you don’t need words. You don’t need any superficially clamor of meaningless alphabets when you can show what you feel. When in the silence of words, heartbeats talk and breaths mingle to understand, to comfort. It’s magical!”<br /><br />She stared at him. Entranced. Enchanted. He was insane. Every word of what he had said was sheer insanity. Yet it made sense to her. She could not take her eyes off him and he never looked away from her.<br /><br />That was last night. This was now. It was morning. The spell was broken. It was time to move on. Reluctantly she pulled her hand away from his back. She stepped noiselessly off the bed and gathered her clothes. He had not promised her anything more than one night. One night of passion. One night of confession. One night where she had bared her soul to him. All the hurt, all the agony, all the anger there for him to see, to soothe as she submitted her nakedness to him. He had been tender. He had cared. He had heard her silence and he had kissed every last bit of sadness out of her.<br /><br />One night which was everything she had ever dreamed a night could be.<br /><br />She pulled her dress over head and slipped into her heels. A tiny tear slipped down the same cheek which had minutes ago been smiling. After baring herself to him how could she ever treat him like a stranger?<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-83672796940111855382011-01-03T00:39:00.000-08:002011-01-03T00:40:16.715-08:00Winter memories<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> 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mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">It was the perfect winter morning. </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Silver mists flirted with a crimson sun. A purple tinge searing the white skies was a testimony to the fun they were having. Orange leaves rustled their goodbyes. Lifelessly they flitted to the foot of the tree. They crunched, and the tree winced invisibly. Silently watching as the leaf, which was once the reason for his very existence was ground into dust under the unknowing heel.</p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">She could hear the crunch, and she could feel the pain. Yet, she could not stop herself from putting one foot before the other. Crunching, crushing, realizing.<span style=""> </span>If only she could do that with memories too. Memories, which were faded and worn. If<span style=""> </span>only she could grind them to dust as easily as the autumn leaves. </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Memories which shackled her happiness. Like the green heavy moss on the barks of ancient oaks, they refused to let go.<span style=""> </span>And she stood there, just as mute and just as heavy, letting the past creep on her.<span style=""> </span>She was addicted to her past. A past which had almost killed her.</p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Crunch! </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Another leaf ground to the dust. </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Another moment gone. Another past created. Another memory born. </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Are memories immortal?</p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Do they ever die?</p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Crunch!</p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">More dust. </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Her breath danced on clouds of vapor, as she continued walking. The warmth of life mixing with the cold of death creating a new moment… which vanished. She had to stop killing the future before it s time. She had to let hope reside. To live in the past, would mean to die. For one cannot survive in the cycle of that which has already happened. </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">So why did she keep returning to that moment of decision? To that fork where you could choose to live or choose to exist?</p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Her heel clicked against the cobblestone. She breathed a sigh of relief. The crunching leaves were beginning to torment her. This was a new path. Shining, gleaming, black.<span style=""> </span>The winds warned her before they blew the mists away. Naked sunlight streaked through the clear skies and sizzled on her scars. </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Another reminder that this was her second chance. </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">She ran a finger along her cheek, tracing the scar that ran along it. Twenty years had done naught to erase it. Nor had they managed to ease the pain of the memory of its birth. The scar had taken her parents away. The scar had left her alive. </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Was the scar good or bad?</p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">On the horizon she could see the fog kicking up again. A hazy line which blurred the golden edge of earth’s stolen kiss. An intruder. Unwelcome. </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Her head dropped and she sighed. The swirls of her breath danced around her pink, glistening lips. An image flashed through her mind. Blood, hair, rugs and piece of glass sticking out of her cheek. The sun glinted off the glass and scattered a million colors on her bleeding cheek. </p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">She shook her head to clear the memory.</p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Crunch!</p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">She was back under the tree again.</p>Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-91406031222755628432010-12-14T02:31:00.000-08:002010-12-14T02:51:28.665-08:00Whispers of the shadows<div style="text-align: justify;">He was a thief. He stole magic from the night. He wrapped himself in the invisible velvet so tight, that every touch of his mesmerized, tantalized, caressed... He tempted life to surrender every sense to his bidding. He was addiction- of the worst kind.<br /><br />She never wanted to let him go.<br /><br />She had let him paint imaginary stars on the dark canvas of her wounded dreams. She had known, even then, that when she would wake up, the stars would disappear taking him with them. But she had indulged him nevertheless. How could she not? She was spellbound, wasn't she? Captivated by his presence, enamored by his existence.<br /><br />She had known it was too good to be true.<br /><br />He had led her and she had blindly followed. Their dance a final performance on the stage of life. She wanted the dance to last forever. She could not miss a step, for a missed step would ruin the perfection of their moment. Yet with every step, she was closer to the moment the curtain would fall.<br /><br />To dance or not to dance?<br /><br />His smile made his lies so believable, for some moments she pretended with him that they were true. With his smile he created a new world for her. A world he would soon leave. But he never told her that. His smile just asked her to believe in that which could not be.<br /><br />And she did.<br /><br />Without a noise, the magic ended. All it took was the meeting of his lids. He closed his eyes on his world and hers, leaving her all alone.<br /><br />Like she had known all along he would.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-73123725497045086512010-11-06T17:19:00.000-07:002010-11-10T01:21:57.900-08:00La Belle et la BêteA Halloween night was not the best of times to give up the familiar confines of Hard Rock Cafe and end up venturing to some upstart lounge bar called Enter The Dragon in Koregaon Park, he decided over a sip of Jack Daniels. Of course, the fact that Celine Deon was trying to be haunting while singing 'Beauty and the Beast' might have had something to do with it. But in his heart he knew he would have enjoyed it, had he been with Pragya. <br />
<div><br />
</div><div>He kept thinking of their times together. Those knotted fingers, not ready to leave each others' comfort even when an upright septuagenarian of the society would clear his throat loudly every time he passed by on his evening walk. Those stolen kisses, that seemed to start for a moment and lingered on forever.. It was kind of funny thinking of those times in this environment- the romantic images providing a stark contrast in his mind to the visual inputs he was receiving at the moment, surrounded by devils, vampires, death eaters and what not!!</div><div><br />
</div><div>"Pragya!" He called out as a silken touch on the back of his neck brought him out of his trance like state. </div><div><br />
</div><div>"Oops! I am so sorry" </div><div>This was a woman in a black, off shoulder gown who was dressed up as a vampire.</div><div><br />
</div><div>"It's ok" He muttered as she floated away towards the bar.</div><div><br />
</div><div>This girl was interesting, he thought. She was not really a mirror cracking beauty, though she had an exquisiteness in features few others could have hoped to match. Her cheekbones were the defining feature of her face, or were they? The blue of her eyes stood out in contrast to her fair to a fault complexion. But there was something that struck a jarring note. Her face seemed pale, almost chalk white. But what was the point thinking about her, and he returned to his drink.</div><div><br />
</div><div>"Would you mind terribly if I shared the table with you?" Again the same girl. "There is no table which is vacant, and since you seem to be alone....." She trailed off.</div><div><br />
</div><div>"It would be a pleasure" He somehow stammered.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Now that he had an opportunity to study her, he tried to take her details in without ending up ogling at her. His attention was drawn to the ring on the middle finger of her left hand. The ring was made of silver, perhaps. But it was not the material which fascinated him. He was hooked up by the design on the ring. It was small, yet intricately carved. It could not have been a demonic beast, could it??</div><div><br />
</div><div>"Umm... I am Bella" She was saying.</div><div><br />
</div><div>"Oh! Hi, I am Vivek."</div><div><br />
</div><div>"So you are not really deaf. I have told you my name four times in the last ten minutes..."</div><div><br />
</div><div>How did I end up in this place, he was thinking. As he lay between the sheets after a night of passion, their bodies pressing together, he could really not recollect what led to what and they ended up at her place. What he did recollect, though, was an array of figurines of beasts of all kinds of ferocity in the hall, in the living room and here in the bedroom too..</div><div><br />
</div><div>Now, she was asleep, and he could study her at length. But still, he was fascinated by the beauty of the ring... He took her palm in his hands. It seemed so delicate, so... fragile. He looked at the ring, and the beast in the ring seemed to be looking back at him... It gave him an awkward feeling. Pragya's face flashed in his mind. But he willed those thoughts away.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The ring seemed to glide down her finger as he tried to take it off. She seemed to be waking up. On an impulse, he decided to put it on, knowing it would never fit him. Why, his little finger would be larger than Bella's thumb! But the ring fit, snug!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Bella turned towards him, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Strangely, the kiss seemed to leave a cold sensation. He tried to speak, but could not. </div><div><br />
</div><div>"Vivek. That is your name, right? I think you would fit well on my V shelf. As such, there are only three of them there."</div><div><br />
</div><div>He could not move, he could not say anything. He seemed to be losing all his senses.</div><div><br />
</div><div>"Thanks a lot for one more year of youth, sweetheart. And you were not too bad in the bed, either!"</div>The Sagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346022747650047906noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1420937514941411881.post-75272119897818233632010-10-29T11:42:00.000-07:002010-10-29T12:10:20.012-07:00Drunken Experiment<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Its not like me to get personal on this space. Normally it is my imagination which springs wings and takes flights of fantasy into the unexplored world of human emotions. Words just splash themselves on an invisible canvas and a new love story begins with the tender laces of black and white.<br /><br />But that's what usually happens here.<br /><br />Usually, when I am not tempted by goofy possibilities. When my natural instinct to write overrides my basic instinct to be me. And today is definitely unusual!<br /><br />For the very first time, I have turned to the keyboard in a sense of blissful stupor. Some might call it being drunk, I think of it as being alive. All my sensed working beyond their optimum capacity. Its a little after midnight. I can hear the clock eerily ticking above the annoying clacking of my keyboard. Like the mighty hands are ticked off at being subdued by the incessant click of the puny keys. I, though, am silently pleased. I dont even want to count the number of times that horrid ticking has kept me awake at night, fueling my imagination with nightmarish thoughts!! Serves them right! Go tick away!<br /><br />There is a slight wind blowing right outside my closed window. And I swear I can actually see it move. Its like angels have dressed in black and crept out of the high heavens for a midnight fiesta outside my window. Their noiseless feet move gracefully across my rusting balustrade and every now and then I can hear a giggle or two.<br /><br />I am not imagining it!<br /><br />The winds ought to be cold at this time of the year. There is a definite drop in temperatures. A cold chill runs down my spine as I summon this thought. Goosebumps taint my dry skin. But I swear that guy in the red T-shirt standing next to his black CRV has sweaty palms as he helps his drunken date into the apartment. I can almost smell his thoughts.<br /><br />And gag on them.<br /><br />Yuck!<br /><br />I can hear him too. Waiting for me to join him as we close our eyes on another day together. I can hear him getting impatient to fold me in his arms and let me loose only when a new day has dawned upon us. I can hear him waiting to tell me, that tomorrow is another chance to create a lifetime together, so lets hurry up and seal today!<br /><br />I love listening to things he never says!<br /><br />Unfortunately I hear them best only when I am drunk!<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Beauty and the BEasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06566815740726997780noreply@blogger.com6