Brown Eyed Girl

Those eyes...
Brown, deep and beautiful.

Those eyes...
That smiled at me from across the room, the first time they met mine.

Those eyes...
That danced like burning flames of desire when we danced with the sand at our feet on that starry night.

That cried when we had a lovers spat and walked away for a while.
And that twinkled with glee when sunny days returned in our lives.

Those eyes...
That naughtily winked when we pretended to be strangers among friends and family, telling a white lie.

Those beautiful brown eyes...
That now encapsulate my crimson dream.
And makes it her vision.

They'll always belong to my best friend and lover... those deep beautiful brown eyes.

Puzzled

When he didn't know who else to speak to about this, he went up to his best friend.

He knocked on her door. She opened the door and he walked right in. They hadn't spoken for a long time and now that he had come up to her, she knew he was in an awry situation.

So they got straight to the point. "What's going on? I know you are here 'coz of her. But now that she's gone, its too late for you to be taking my advice or looking for answers."

He didn't think she'd say anything else, than what he already knew. But he just wanted to put his word forward. So he sat her down and talked. He told her how much he was in love. How she had turned his world around and made him a responsible man. But then she was a world renowned artist and he was just a small time entrepreneur. "She is rich and famous.  I have a successful business but what do I have to offer that she can't have?"

"It's not about stuff, you idiot. It never is", she growled. "Why can't guys get that? Stuff is a substitute of what we accept when we don't get what we want."

"What do women really want?"

"We want to matter." she said. "We want to be the most important part of your world. We want to know you'd be lost without us, that you ache when we are gone and count the hours for us to return. We'll give you our lives forever, if you just make us believe that."

- Note this is not entirely an original write-up but parts of it are an extract from a novel I read. Due credit to the writer for the same."

Did You Miss Me?

I sat by the phone waiting for you to call.
But not once did you decide to dial me.
I patiently watched the day go by.
And gave up when night began to fall.

You were out with friends as they celebrated a special day.
The festivities began and the music started to play.
They were playing a love song,
And everyone picked their partner, to the ballad they'd sway.

And that's when you felt my absence.
Sitting before the bonfire, smiling at yourself.
Wondering what I had been doing all day.

You wished I'd be there too, so you could hold me close.
And dance to the melody, whispering the lyrics softly in my ears.

But I wasn't there.
I was home that late evening, lying in my bed.
With my head on my pillow.
Closing my eyes, imagining you were right here.
And then wondering if you were sitting by the warm bonfire, by the sea.
Saying... I miss her dearly. 


- Inspired by Dan Seals Addicted (painting by Fabiano Parez)

The Midnight Date

It was a busy night for her. Diners continued to pour in despite it nearing closing time. At Not Just Jazz by the Bay on Marine Drive, the band was playing slow rock music. The cool winter night was the perfect setting to wine and dine at a restaurant by the sea. 

She was tired and yet she kept serving drink after drink, with the same warm smile. Her only motivation for now being the extra monies she would earn working two shifts, to fund her dreams. Working the day shift just didn't seem enough anymore. Living alone in the big city has its own disadvantages. But she made up her mind not to sell her dreams short, not so early. Besides she liked working here. Her love for music and being exposed to different genres every time a new band played there was making the second shift of work less stressful.

That evening too, he was there. Standing across the road, wearing his winter coat and dark glasses, looking like a shadowy figure, afraid that she would see him and recognize him. In all these years, it was her that had inspired him to follow his dreams. She had been the catalyst who had changed his life in so many ways. So much so that her determination inspired him to chase his dreams and make them real. No wonder he became successful in such a short time. At that time he felt he was merely imitating her, because nothing else could explain how someone who didn't know where his life was going became a more responsible adult. Her friendship was a blessing he thanked God for every night. 

It was heart-breaking when he had to go abroad for a new project for a year. In that much time, her world had crumbled. Personal failures and financial crisis had shattered her and she had no one to turn to. It took her so long to pick up the pieces and start all over again. 

He had returned to Mumbai about a month ago. The first thing he did when he got back was get in touch with her. After several attempts to reach her on the phone, he dropped by her home. That's when he found out that her house had been sold. No one knew her whereabouts now. 

Then one evening after a client meeting, as he walked out of the restaurant he saw her walk in. At first he couldn't believe his eyes. Was it really her? Or was it the single malt that was triggering his imagination? Before he could walk up to her, she stormed into the staff room. He quietly walked away, not wanting to embarrass her. 

Since then he spent every evening that he was free at the ice-cream parlor across the road so he could catch a glimpse of her. 

Tonight, not once did she step out. As her shift ended she wasn't left with much of an appetite. She went to her locker to retain her bag when she found a box with  her favorite orchid. A little note was pasted on the top asking her to open it and try on what was in it. She was about to throw it into the trash can when a fellow server walked in. "You have to at least open it, trust me." She denied. Then he told her the truth. Someone had given him this package to be delivered to her. "Trust me, it's safe to open it". 

She opened the box and found a beautiful peach chiffon flowing gown and matching stilettos. He left her and told her to change into it and step out. 

As she stepped out, he looked at her in awe. No one in the world could look more radiant that night. The guitarist was playing her favorite tune as he walked up to her. A little table was set up on the pavement right next to the sea with candles and some wine. He hugged her, kissed her hand and gently placed it on his shoulder as they began to waltz under the stars. She was speechless. He simply whispered "Happy Birthday Love. I missed you." 

--- paintings courtesy Carrie Graber

I’m not sorry that I loved you

I’m sitting at the piano can't put my fingers to these keys.

As I start playing something I realize it’s your favorite song.

I see your photo in the picture frame that stands in front of me, reminding me of evenings with you here.

When I'd compose tunes while you'd play the guitar.

Words came to me so easily, as my inspiration was so close to me.

Those deep eyes, that radiated color stronger than the fire lit in the fireplace.

The musk perfume that filled the room.

The sound of your voice that reverbed in my head long after you were gone.

Every song I composed, all the sonnets I wrote

Didn't you see they were meant for you?

They've lost all meaning,

Now I can't sing those melodies,

I've lost them all, now that I've lost you.

You are leaving town to chase your dreams and I can’t bring myself to say goodbye. 

The words I longed for you to say,

I don’t hear them and you don’t hear my pleas to stay.

At the terminal, one last time I hug you.

Silently you whisper those words, say you are taking me along in your heart,

And you'll be back when the journey ends.

Suddenly ...  I’m not sorry that I loved you.


-- Inspiration from Danielle Steel novel .. HRH 

........

I see a glint in your eyes. A need, a want.
To be cared for, to be pampered and to be loved.
You are looking for it everywhere around you, but fail it see it in me.

I am right here, shadowing you. You realize the same, but fear. Fear that what we have would be permanently destroyed if you acknowledge this feeling. So you tuck it away, hide it so no one notices it. But how will you succeed in keeping the truth away from me, your soul mate.

A long time ago we surpassed those barriers. Now an invisible bond connects me to you. One that gets stronger with each passing day.

The world, fate and life may have other plans for us. We don't dare challenge those forces that decide our roles. Yet we reach out to each other. So many times just standing in the corner, smiling at you. Letting you know I'm there. Letting you feel comfortable, telling you that the worst will soon be history, that you will emerge out of this, stronger.

You ask me sometimes through your gestures and other times through the look in your eyes, why this distance between us?

You look deeply into me, knowing very well that even I don't have the answer to your question. All I have is a comforting heart. A presence that will linger until fate decides to give up it's intent and let our souls be one.

Brewing

People often ask me "where did it all begin?" For a long time I thought I had the answer to that question. But today when someone new asked me the same question and I smilingly told them about me and you, I realized the answer I was giving was something I came to believe was true and right.

I think even I was finding it difficult to decipher when it all began. What was the exact day this all began? Was there a special moment in that day when we both knew that someday we would be at this beautiful juncture?

I recall that day. That busy evening when we accidentally bumped into each other in the corridor and I clumsily spilled my coffee on the floor, not before a few drops of it made their way to your lime yellow shirt leaving a nasty stain.I apologized; you smiled back and flirtatiously said to me, "it was worth it". Our first encounter and you were flirting already. What was I to deduce about your attitude nature from it?

That day I just smiled and introduced myself and apologized again. Caught in knots, I walked away not knowing what else to do.

In our corridor meetings after that, we would just exchange smiles although I have to admit I wanted to make conversation. On so many occasions that you would see me with a coffee cup in my hand, you would gesture to me to clutch the cup harder, then smile and wink. That was all the interaction we had for the longest time, until one day you noticed I hadn’t once walked up to the coffee machine to give into my addiction. As you went past my desk, I looked up and you noticed me. How did you read my mind when no one else around me was able to understand what was going on? A few minutes later, my phone was buzzing. It was a text message from an unknown number asking me to step out of the office. On an already bad day, I decided nothing could get worse so I stepped out just to see who was texting me. As I walked out the door, I saw you standing there, with a decaf in your hand and an extra ounce of concern in your eyes.

On a day when everything was going wrong, at least one thing was going right.

The decaf worked liked a magic potion; we were having the most pleasant second conversation. Was it that day that I noticed the smile line that appeared on your cheeks? The way your eyes lit up when I teased you. Yes it was, but we didn’t speak about that. You just kept complimenting me knowing that it would help me feel better. After all, I was just an ordinary girl among the special ones. Being the silent observer all this while you had come to learn so much about me, I doubt most others knew.

So many coffees and plenty of conversations later I knew there was something between us now that was drawing us close. I was getting attached. Not only to the attention I was getting from you, but also the affection that came along with it.

Why did it take a misunderstanding, a fallout of sorts for you to realize that there was more to it? This was more than friendship, this was affection, and this was love. Why didn’t you walk up to my street and knock on my door that day to tell me what you felt?

You really did have to pick a rainy night when you were two drinks down to drive up to my street, knock on my door and ask me to let you into my home and back into my heart. That special evening, were we sure that it was meant to be? I’d say no.

For deep down inside, we both knew that it was the first encounter of ours. The spilt coffee was totally worth it…

The Ordinary Girl

" She's just an ordinary girl", his friend exclaimed. "Why are you even thinking about her? We are on a holiday and you have better things to focus on.."

He heard him alright. After all, this was his best friend, giving him advice to stop thinking and start acting. But in his favourite club as the music started to get louder, he started  to get claustrophobic. Something wasn't making sense here. He felt lost in the crowd, so he finally stepped out and started walking towards the beach, his only getaway for now. He would sit there for a while, to sort the thoughts in his head. To find the answer to the question his friend kept asking him that evening. Why was he thinking about her?

After all she was just a simple girl. Someone he'd not known for too long. She was what someone would call a Plain-Jane. A girl who had few colors in her closet and wore no make-up except for the kohl in her eyes that brought out their hazel color. She took no effort to look pretty and made no attempt to draw attention. And yet when she walked into the room, her presence would bring a glow in there. A feeling of warmth, like he was at home, a home he dearly missed. Her perfume reminded him of the smell of the flowers that his mother would bring home after a hard days work. 

Her childlike laughter was so real, unlike those of the women he met on lonelier nights on boring dates. Her work of art was a reflection of her warm persona. The beautiful pastels, the bold brush strokes brought life into the portraits she did. That's how it was so easy for her to impress him. 

So that evening when he asked her out, she politely declined and only after much insistence agreed to. That evening and many more that he spent with her were magical. One of those quiet evenings, as she handed him an early birthday gift. She asked him to open it only later, on his birthday. And on that same night she told him she had to leave. Go back home. She gave him no choice but to let go.

So here he was on the eve of a new year of his life, celebrating with friends yet unhappy. Where was this feeling coming from? Why was he looking for her in the crowd at that club? 

He decided to drive home, to open the present she had got him. As he tore open the paper, he found a small wooden framed portrait of himself standing at the porch of her home. A scene she had captured on canvas, of the day he came home the first time. 

That's when he realized that to the world she may have been an ordinary girl. But to him ordinary was special.