Twenty-fifth on Seventeenth

Friday, October 17, 2014

Eleven Fifty-one PM, IST

Dear Diary,

I purposely kept this until the last-minute, for I was waiting for her all this while. We had voluntarily agreed to have a date today, a date I was much looking forward to. We were supposed to meet when she would have been exclusively mine, wash me over with her fresh thoughts, and put me out to wide-reaching attention. Alas! I believe this was a bit over-anticipated from my end yet again, for this is not the only time she has disappointed me.

I waited for her hoping she would at least remember me during some part of the day. I know she likes to take her own sweet time while she scribbles away, only for the reason that when she finally comes to me, she gives me something in a shape I can’t refuse and even then dissatisfied with parts of it, works on it, where each effort just seems better as compared to the previous one.

Now that I look back, I knew I was destined to be born to her someday, for I have been there with her all my life, suppressed and unrecognised. Thanks to that guy she met more than two years back. [Did you know that they are married now?] He was the one to bring me out of the water. He was the one who encouraged her to maintain me. Oh, she was very skeptical of me in the beginning, for she didn’t know how people would react if I were to be displayed in public. I wondered so too the same way back then. But did I care to protest, when she bought stuff to me and displayed it in a way that no one else has done to me all this while? I have loved her since then, and if anything else, it has just grown with each passing day. I am glad I wasn’t born to anybody else than to her, for I don’t think I could have stood anyone else’s scribbles encroaching my space.

If any regrets, there is just this wistful thinking – I wish she had paid more attention to me, and taken care of me the same way I feel about her.  Here I am, waiting bare-naked and all-out for her … a tiny part of me does wish that she resonates with the same urge. After all, I didn’t expect that I would celebrate my twenty-fifth portion without her presence. She didn’t remember me when I turned a year old [which is almost a year and a half back now], though a tiny ray of hope inside me couldn’t help wondering if she would remember me at least this day. I guess I shouldn’t have been hopeful.

Oops! I hear my maker logging in. She didn’t forget me today after all. Was I too early to post this?

PS: Shades Auf Grey celebrates its twenty-fifth post today, the seventeenth of October, 2014.


What’s this Dire Crave to Stay Lonely?

What’s this dire crave to stay lonely?

In this surreal world with an adventurous life

Filled with colors and sights myriad

And engaging populaces, unfamiliar or the next of the kin, all alike


What’s this dire crave to stay lonely?

For the insides spin on indeterminate dreams and ingenuities

Waiting to be discovered and tipped out

Lack of time and space, or is it all about priorities?


What’s this dire crave to stay lonely?

When the folksy clan more than seeks an opportunity

To meet, make merry and shower their unconditional affection

Festivities or routine, irrespective of the distance, abode or city


What’s this dire crave to stay lonely?

Dictating the shortage of privacy and independence

While the unsavored sweetness of doing nothing

Combines with forced management of your day, a boon or a penance?


It’s that dire crave to stay lonely

For it is the driving lack of social quotient, or so to say, having run out of it

In search of a chance to be alone with yourself

With some time off to withdraw into your casing, and be self-lit


It’s that dire crave to stay lonely

For a chance to exhibit your extremities boundlessly

The mood swings — from being a gem-of-a-heart

To the brazen-slash-through, however for a moment, unremittingly


It’s that dire crave to stay lonely

With the someone you consider your soul mate

They who not only pretend they understand you, but in all fact of the earth, they do

The one who stays by you, while your yellows, blues, greens, and reds abate


It’s that dire crave to stay lonely

Only just to keep the craving of belongingness alive

Amongst strangers and the next of the kin

To love, be loved, and float high on a social jive


Pray tell me, is this

A sadist obsession or a self-generated masochism?

For, for sure, as baffling as it gets

Yet rainbow-y enough while one looks through a prism