A Late-Summer Night's Dream

Fragrance from a dozen kinds of flora
Tickled my senses alive
The warm summer wind in my hair
Made me want to cry...

This was basically what was running through my head when I sat there, on the rare occasion that I decided to do something nice, all by myself. It was positively scenic- calm, serene, a feeling of peace within myself. Occupied with a good book with a whole bench to myself in the park, with 200 or more people around, I almost forgot their existence. I managed to get this wonderful spot just when I was getting tired of having this old man peering over my shoulder as if i was reading the alchemist's secrets, learning how to get the Midas' touch.

I picked up my bag and walked over to the bench, quickly before it was taken again. Sitting cross-legged, book in lap, I forgot the world, busily buzzing away, right in the heart of the ever alive and moving Manhattan.

It seemed beautiful, but not moving at first. I sat slowly inhaling the fresh perfumes so generously being lent to me by the beautiful white, purple and pink flowers surrounding me. It was a little later I realized how wonderful it really was. Another hundred pages later, I raised my head to find it was dark out, and then saw the faint patches of light streaming on the ground and forming careless patterns where I was. The movie started almost immediately, Black and White of course. A hush fell over the crowds gathered and for those few moments, all I heard was the beautiful opening score of the movie, the summer wind whispering mischievously and the earth giving me a beautiful mental massage with her fragrant caresses. The ultimate romantic illusion.

An hour into the movie, the excitement I felt since that moment of realization was quite dimmed, because of the fact that I, was all alone on that park bench, in my ultimate romantic stage.

It burned out abruptly, when for my mis-fortune, a nearly drunk and staggering man found the need to park his rear on the other end of the bench. The fragrance now turned into the heavy stench of alcohol.

Thirty seconds later, book in hand, I found my way out of the park, disappointed, but thankful for the few hours of peace I had felt in a long time. My Summer Love was rejuvenated.

Coffee and Bottled-Water

This may be a sequel or prequel or not at all related to "Snickers and Ice-Water." I guess I have been bitten by the blog-bug and let's see how long the effects will last.

Since last night I have this curiosity for the species "Femme Anorexic" in other words, starving women in NY (for now)and by Jehovah, I am not referring to the homeless.

I realized that they are all the victims of one thing. The obsession to look good. They certainly do, with flawless skin, visible bones and a bright prospect of acute arthritis in the future. Even High School children.

I observed this particular species on the street, in the subway and lounging about or waiting in front of Julio's for the morning caffeine dosage. There, with the short smart suits, perfectly waxed arms/legs, figure hugging jeans, pointy-toe high heels and the general air of contempt for the chubby and fleshy beings.

Mark you, I'm not pro-obesity, I've been fighting that all my life. But I feel pity for these people, who are so involved in how they look and how many calories they just ingested. They must be quick calculators, because they probably can look at an item of food and calculate the number of hours in the gym they will have to spend, proportional to the number of grams of fat (or should I say trans-fat) they will be in danger of accumulating.

Being thin (or a BOB) does not necessarily mean a sign of health and being chubby doesn't mean you're on a one-way track to spinster-hood. I wish I could convince myself of that :)

After a year or so in the "cheerleader club" (a.k.a thin-women-who-don't-eat-club) I was happy when my mother and elder sister force fed me and made me now an outcast from that club. I missed eating ice-creams and feeling good about it. I resolved that I would remain strong and healthy and possibly single for a long long time, rather than ensure my senior years as an invalid.

Not that I'm a health-freak, because if I was, I probably wouldn't be chubby, and also I would have been poorer than I am, spending too much on health foods. Can you believe you have to pay for the gym, pay for the salads, in general, become poorer to become healthier.

Coolies in India eat healthy if not rich food and work hard, and are probably much healthier than most millionaires with personal gyms, and unlimited salads to die on.

I'm for healthy, even if it means fat. What do you think?

Snickers and Ice-Water

Well it's midnight, Sunday, the end to a less than productive or relaxing weekend, and here I am, typing in yet another flow of thought.

After a marathon of a dozen or so "Sex and the City" episodes, and a quite successful cooking experience, I break my no-chocolate-bars diet with a more than happy heart. It seemed to me, after watching the plight of delicious anorexic women trying to land a guy to avoid boredom, that me trying to get into a shape less than "round" was not really going to help out when it came to the affairs of the heart. Hell if they couldn't be happy even after giving up food and any thought of a normal life, a long forgotten snicker bar (snuggled away in my usual back-pack) and a poor excuse for a drink (ice-water, for God's sake! A single woman with a drink does not have to mean it's a cosmopolitan or a Manhattan for that matter) found themselves in my hands.

My room-mates have long since fallen asleep and I'm the usual nocturnal creature, with the usual ton of thoughts on my mind. Too true when someone said, "Women often think too much, and understand very little." Well at least women are not like men, with minds like bridled horses, flaps over their eyes.

This brings me to think, not without Carrie's influence, the chinkle of ice cubes in my china mug and the taste of chocolate, whether women should stop thinking so much?

I mean, if we didn't worry about every single detail, and be pessimistic and consider every way that something can go wrong, who will and who can?

While the men are thinking toward live-in relationships and we are thinking of the family china, is it that difficult for men to commit (speaking of a majority -- every flock has it's black sheep)? When all they want is the love of a woman, why is it so hard for them to think of just one woman? When women are willing to commit to a relationship every so quickly, why is it so excruciating for a man to say "I love you"?

Mind you, this is in most of the cases. Women, put their heart out on the line hoping that someone will come, swoop them away to a fairy land where everyone lives happily after, and find their hearts crushed by a train on that very same line. Several times before someone can swoop them away, at least to Manhattan.

I'm starting to think that we women are the ones who are wrong. Maybe we should give in to being barbaric and everyone can live like monkeys, with the males "swinging this way and that."

More on this later...

Fire and Water

It's raining, it's pouring,
and the old man is snoring...
another rainy afternoon
for me, far from boring...

Well, there is a thing about the rain that makes me feel so good.

Maybe it is the thought that it is probably one of the purest elements save Fire, which also makes me feel good, in another way.

I like opposing elements, Fire and Water. Born under the water sign and hopelessly in love with Fire.

Water calms me and Fire humbles me.

The sight of either makes me unreasonably calm. Fear? Certainly Not! Respect is more like it.

I still feel small when I stand beside the ocean, and smaller when I am faced with fire. I love to watch the grace with which the waves dance and the fluid motion of the flames.

Water makes me want to write in flowery words and fire makes me want to take over the world. A true inspiration. I wonder what will happen when I am faced with something like the picture. Fire and Water... which emotions will I choose? Shall I sit down and write like a true poet or shall I start scheming?

Maybe I will want to take over the world with words. Like Alexander and Hitler put together, minus the evil nature. Or maybe I'll discover something within me that I never thought could be possible.

These seem strange incoherent words I write; heart encouraged by thunder, mind lit with lightning, ears fed with soulful music, eyes misty with images, sense of smell soothed with the fragrance of fresh and cleansing rain, warmed by solitude and somehow calmer than a sleepy forest.

Incoherent yet coherent.

Wonderful things that can happen on a beautiful rainy holiday. I wish I had the courage to dance in the rain.

Lost

What do you do when you feel that sometimes,

Everything wants to go wrong

One thing’s not done and you stop it for another

And the other one never moves on

It so feels like the world is against

Getting my job to go right

I was the one who was fighting before

But I'm losing my strength and I'm tired

Help me up; help me get back on my feet

Before I fall down, halfway through this feat

Walk me forward just a few steps

Till I get time to clear my head

Feed me love and be affectionate

Tie up my wounds that have been bled

Help me go on to be what I have to be

Before life pronounces me dead…

Time is moving on and I'm growing old

I'm not able to do what I'm being told

How I wish sometimes for a bullet in my head

And then I want to have time to be stalled

It’s so confusing that I cannot see what is real

And I'm so numb that I cannot feel

Even the thoughts that run through my mind

I have to get away to find a place where I can heal

I can’t run because they would surely find

That I am so weak in mind

I just need to buy time so I can continue

To hide what I really am,

To decide where I do stand

To believe that “I can”

To prepare to be invincible

Or at least to pretend that I am….

For my Neice, who brought Poetry back into my life

What is it that makes me love you so?

Those eyes that stare into my soul,

Or the smile that makes me whole?

Maybe it is just you.

What makes me remember you every moment?

Is it the way you play, those silly games?

Or the way you spend moments as days?

It simply may be, just you.

At times when I'm blue, I turn to you;

Maybe because you always lift me up

To a lighter, brighter place?

Or simply because you love me too.

I haven't learned so many things

In twenty years or so

As you've taught me to do and see

Since you came a few years ago.

How is it that you melt my heart,

Without speaking even a word to me,

And you break it up in a moment

Pretending that you don't remember me.

Why is it now that my world revolves,

Strictly around what you say or do?

And why do I come back to asking myself,

"Why is it that I love you?”

Without you around.

[ONE]

There comes a time

When nothing ever seems to fall in place

And then the days grow darker

And the nights turn sleepless and white

Then when I look at the stars

They seem to spell out your name

And twinkle like the sound of your laugh

My mind starts playing those games

Chorus)

These are the times that I miss you the most

Feels like a decade since you’re gone

Your voice seems so close by on the phone

But I’m living the life of a ghost

[Two]

Staring at your pictures on the wall

They try and capture the essence of your smile

Trying to get used to being alone

It’s going to take me more than a long long while

Feeling heartache and my soul is on fire

The days seem to blend into one

Slowly fighting a burning desire

Till you come back, I’m trying to hold on

Chorus]

[Three]

Trying to get a little rest

But that’s not all that easy to do

This seems to be no medicine for my tiredness

Except for every little thing you do

I lie awake till the dawn breaks over

Trying to remember when you’ll be coming back

There is no life in what ever I do with these days

You’re the magic that I lack…

Pure Drops of Heaven

Since I established this blog spot on a wonderful rainy afternoon,
I thought I'd start off with something I had written for the Rain,
on another rainy afternoon.

The heavens weep for their love
For the land and keep it healthy
The earth, as a concerned lover should be,
Raises it's leafy arms to the sky
Trying to catch the tears in tiny hands
Bending and swaying, this way and that
Eager to catch every falling drop
And calls out when she feels the tears
Are choking the love they share so strong
And the heavens stop crying, for the earth.
The earth then smiles and asks the sun
To help dry the tears of heaven
The sun will shine and then again
The earth rejoins the heavens.