Flowers and Lights (ii)

You are the flowers, and you are the lights. Maybe you’d notice this time.

Everytime I’ve looked at you I’ve seen you four shades more beautiful than you’ve ever called yourself to be, and I’m one for words but I’ve failed and flawed at telling you this. Maybe because the sun sets at different times in the places that we’ve left off to, or maybe because there’s too many airplanes between us, but I’ve shredded your memories into a little more than a million pieces and slid them across different pages so that everyday when I turn one more page I remember one more thing I forgot about you.
We once made plans to try and figure out the rest of the world together but out plans didn’t come to play- so many reasons behind it, so one day we couldn’t see each other anymore and you boarded a plane headed to a place you had wanted to grow up to go to. Soon I boarded a plane too, one that took me to a place I had only recently looked up in a world map to find. We had spent all our time wishing we’d spend every new year together, and every birthday making model airplanes but the years went past us- one, then two, and then three.
I see you today after so long, long enough that it was once ordinary but also long enough once for it to be longer than we’d ever want it to be.
And then you see me. Not much has changed when our words spill out to make a heap of unanswered questions, forgotten stories and wisdom beyond what time allows. It takes a few minutes to let the presence sink in but even the years, even all the equations and bubble chambers we placed between us had never been enough. One day we sat under the cover of a waterfall in a plot of space we had come to call a rain forest, and then we walked past four biomes and into each others’ lives. And years we’ve spent wondering how the girl with more medals than she could count met with the girl who hid behind books and words, the only escape she knew. But there weren’t medals to our story, nor were there books written about us. Somehow this became your biggest victory and the story I could never get enough of.
Because when we sat down together one morning with two glasses of orange juice and a tray between us, when we sat down between two continents and a water bottle, when we sat down between a stack of books and a hundred questions, we became more than the left out questions we couldn’t figure the answers to. We became more than four shades and twenty tints. We became our biggest secret: flowers… and lights!




Flowers and Lights (i)


I’ve never been able to hold up an entire conversation with you. I’ve heard  a lot about you, but a little from you.  We’ve lived inside the same story for quite some years and at times we were even on the same paragraph someone chanced to read. Sometimes even the same line or sentence! You’ve been a hundred stories to me.
I’ve looked and overlooked and looked again to see if you’re alright and you’ve seen and overseen and seen again how I wasn’t. We were too afraid of the voices we heard through telephone lines to confide in each other the stories we were certain were true but chose not to believe in.
I see you admist the flowers and lights today… but I also see the hundred stories you left bookmarks for me to read from. I see you as a champion, but I also see you ten feet underwater making your way to the title. I see you as the break through of all of everything but I also see the break in you, I see you on the headlines but I also see your name scratched off a list so much so that there’s not a trace of it left behind. I see ten thousand smiles, and I also see ten thousand tears shed before hand. I’ve seen you sparkling so many times that I’ve lost count, but I’ve seen you humble and out of the spotlight way more many times.
And then you see me, all thorns and shadows looking for an ending to a story I never began. You’ve heard a lot about me, but a little from me. And in that moment I notice how all the excuses to all the conversations we slid past have made a story of their own. We’ve read one hundred stories of each other but this was the one hundred and first. Because when you balanced a tray and stood in the awkward distance between me and the rest of the world, you told me in all the words you didn’t speak that it was alright to be exactly me.


Random Update (V)- Yeah, my life’s interesting

It’s been a while since I made a random update of my life on my blog, and so here’s my fifth random update to mark five years of my wordpress existence. Life, right now, is good. I’ve learnt a lot of lessons and I’ve made a lot out of my life, and people and words still fascinate me the most. I’ve been at my books for the past 30 minutes trying to figure out the toxicities of several different drugs for a pharmacology exam I have in four days. Things have been chaotic, but life has been smooth. I still somehow make time for my writing, though sometimes it gets really tight and I have to cut down on my hours of sleep, but I’ve been told that nothing comes easy. I’ve got dreams I’d like to follow and I’m working on them. I think you should too.