Virgin Rains

If there was something, I couldn't find faults with, it was this. The pristine emotion essential to human existence and its continuity thereafter; LOVE. Not the kind you share with your parents, your siblings or your friends. The kind which dazes the senses and suddenly, the centre of your world decides to shift. The kind which commands care, compassion and as an added benefit, physical intimacy. "So there I was, reveling in the joy of the new found first love, getting drenched in the rain while the surroundings didn't seem to matter any longer. There's little that compares to that feeling of a hazed delight. That love at first sight, reciprocated with the same intensity. A walking fairytale that the two of us were invited jealous stares wherever we went. At sixteen, I had what people crave for their entire lives; a love that would last eternity and beyond. Love and music, combined with chocolate, sweetened the air while my perception changed and I could see the t...

To my love of the days when I loved you for I no longer do, I think. To the memories that I hid behind the curtain of that fogged window, I see you and I there. Behind that curtain, through that misty window, I still see you. Out there drenched in the rain, lie the times I regret, I think. The times spent being ripped apart and put together again, Many a moon have passed between then and now. My love for you fades and yet grows for those days, I think. The nights and the moons are the same outside the window, We are not. I see you and I meeting, A small series of serendipity leading us there. That, the moment of unexplained desire Still makes my heart pound. My fingers seek yours, entwine them, Hold our amalgamated souls. The reminder of all the divinity I understood. Through the hazy window I see, I do not love you anymore. But without you I wouldn't have known, The spaces between the spaces unexplored. I wouldn't have known the heartaches, But...

There are these places that I frequent, these thoughts that I revisit, and these experiences that I recall and relive. These are parts of me, the places that I have internalised, the thoughts and experiences that made me. It is ironical that I have chosen to remember the trauma quite well, that my thoughts romanticise the pain, the places I go back to aren't attached to happy memories, not anymore. We exist to find happiness, that life itself is a great pursuit of contentment. We seek out bliss in the petrichor, in the rising and setting sun, in the sunflowers facing it, in the waning and waxing moon; that universal search joining all of humanity in invisible ties. And I have opted to break those ties, constantly preserving the trauma and seeking out some more and more.

A crime doesn't hide itself. It finds a way to manifest its existence and her guilty appearance was proof enough of her crime. Guilt perhaps is the most conspicuous exhibit of the crime committed, of the violation of law of nature. Her demons did not let her sleep at night. The day was bright but the night was especially cruel; the sky thundered and rain lashed at her window reproving her, even nature reminded her of the deviant that she was. She opened the windows to calm the whipping rain but made way for the chilly wind which entrapped her, suffocating her in the comfort of her own room. The noise of rustling trees, the horrid silence of the streets and the looming specter of her sin haunted her. She could not lay in her bed and sleep peacefully like she had done a night before, not disturbed by the sounds the outside made, not bedeviled by ghost of her act. Her bed, marital bed had failed to provide a good night's sleep, for it had been defiled. It now stood...

It was raining that afternoon. She loved the rains, they can be diabolically haunting and at the same time arouse love or a maddening desire. And the continual rains in the past month had initiated a phase of unaccounted gloom. Or maybe her own melancholy was reflected by nature. She was not overtly attached to him, or so it seemed at the beginning. However, as time passed, their affection deepened. There couldn't have been two people anymore different than them and yet together, yoked by some inexplicable bond. Perhaps she wasn't completely conscious during those moments but even in her current state, one thought possessed her, to be with Harsh. She could hear him calling her. Naina.... in his soft hypnotic voice. His voice always comforted her but today it induced a sense of restlessness. She grew increasingly uncomfortable reminiscing the time spent with him. Those memories seemed an eternity away. A tear rolled down her cheek as the gravity of her situation dawned up...

Ambling around on a moist afternoon Reminded I were of a tale, was it last June? Must be so, a reality surreal than dream Unparalleled it seemed, the story which now I repeat. There he was, not the prince charming of books Wrapped in mist, standing in the unknown. Dared I not venture there alone Fickle was my resolve, I entered there soon. He did croon for me, made me swoon Cliches seemed alive. His aura was such, I did fail to see, I did not know him. Not much. Day and night morphed into one, So powerful was the delusion. How I loved to hear him speak Of his fantasies and experiences, of the worldly knowledge. The deepest of his secrets he used to tell, The fairest ideas he flocked. I poured out my heart, so did he. Was it love? Love must it be. He was standing there again. Charming. As I moved up to kiss, he turned away his lips. "Why did you step back?" I asked. "Why did you come closer?", he wanted to know. And it came back to me, ...