Dance, Monster, Dance.

With every word he wrote, I became a monster devouring his memories. Those ink stained fingers moved furiously. He seemed upset; it showed through the words he penned down. He didn’t want me to speak. He made sure there was not another peep from me as he stitched my lips shut.  I felt no pain. I was too cold hearted to feel any. I don’t know if I’m supposed to have a heart at all, he’s never spoken about it. It was made of gold, once upon a time. Nonetheless, not even the silence satisfied him. In his solitude, he remembered the words, the sensual voice, and the graceful walk, all that he used to picture me with.  He hated those memories. All he wanted was to forget, forget the fiery redhead he always wanted.

He was madly in love with me. He wanted me to sit upon a pedestal and stay there. He loved how I changed according to his mood and moved along with his beats. He loved how I never strayed away from his fixed thoughts. But, he fed so many thoughts into me that, I was overwhelmed by him. I didn’t want to remain a parasite, leeching away at his soul. Once where I couldn’t stop talking to him was only silence now. When he yearned for peace and quiet, I ambushed him with crass fantasies. I was turning out to be nothing like he imagined. I was an abomination to him. He wanted to shut the monster in me deep down. He wanted to tame me, but I belonged to the wild. I wanted to move along with each thought and skip a few and make new ones. With each step forward I wanted to move erratically. I wasn’t going to be rooted down to a mere pedestal. He tried clothing me in satin and silk and pile embellishment upon embellishment. They restrained me while I soared from one branch to the other. I was that figure leaping away in the moonlight, adorned in shreds of luxury. He kept writing. That was all he could to get rid of my image. Papers piled upon each other on the floor. His frustration and his inability to change me were all too evident in the crumpled pages bleeding ink. Meek I was, long ago. He saw flashes of that ingenuity occasionally as he wrote. Never could he pin that image into a sentence. I transformed into a ravenous monster running wild in his mind, just before each full stop. I had no regular movements, with each step my dance grew more irregular. I couldn’t be relied upon.

So, once again he emptied the bottle of vodka onto his failed attempts at shackling me down and lit the match. I burned and the auburn locks turned ashen. The flames engulfed me leaving the inked thoughts underwhelmed. Burn! He screamed intent on wiping away every image he’d conjured of me. Though, even I knew as the flame crept upon my twisted smile that I’d run amok in his mind once again. As the last flame died down, he seemed to realize that too. So, more papers were drawn, another bottle of vodka opened and I was unleashed. Wild as I was, I danced on those white pieces of paper, splashing ink everywhere. With every word, every drop of ink, he smiled, smiled at the monster he was creating. My lips unstitched, I drained every single thought from him. I danced and danced until there was no immaculate pedestal or no leash to tie me down.

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Dance, Monster, Dance.

I’m your Hutch Puppy.

I’m glad you exist. Okay, “glad” does seem very diluted and washed away. I’m very happy (jumping up and down happy) that you exist and more importantly that we know each other. It sucks that we haven’t met. I really really do hate the fact that I haven’t yet met you and shall cherish the moment when we do. I know I should’ve made time to meet up with you last time I came down. Sitting at the airport and realizing I’d failed to meet up with you of all people made me feel like a right idiot. I know for a fact that, next time (whenever that maybe), I shall come and meet you.

You may not be the bundle of sunshine but it’s been great knowing you. Okay, that sounds like I’m going to die or going further away. I have no idea how you became one of my closest friends. It’s surprising when you think that I haven’t even met you once. I keep bringing this whole thing to the fact that I haven’t met you. Well yea, I’ve lost touch with so many of my close online friends that I’m just astonished you’ve managed to gain a place in my life, where most people I see on a regular basis have failed at. Every time I speak to you all I can think is that, what on earth did I do to deserve you? (In a very very good way :D )

I remember thinking how I’m not worthy enough to be friends with you. Yes, extremely fangirl type moment there. You’re so witty and intelligent and amazing. I kept on thinking why you were even talking to me. I don’t even make sense half the time I speak. Then, you write so beautifully! I love everything you write, the funny posts, the emotional ones…everything. I can’t write a funny post to save my life! I’d love to write amazing things like you do.

To top all that off, you’re a Physics graduate! I don’t get how you can be so creative as well as scientific at the same time. Have to hand it down to you. Sometimes I think amazing just isn’t enough to describe you. How long have we been friends for, over two years? I never thought that I’d actually be so close when we first spoke on that community. Funny how things turn out. You’ve been really helpful throughout these years. When I felt down, you’ve cheered me up. I may have grown up a little talking to you. I owe that to you. I like how you’ve become someone I care and genuinely worry about! I like how you can be so grown-up and so young at the same time. I like how you can talk to me. I like the fact that I’m good enough to be on your LIST!!!! I also love how you’ve introduced me to P.G.W. You know, you are a little too hard on yourself. If only you realized that you’re so awesome will you stop worrying about everything else.

I love you. You’ve been a more than great addition to my life. I don’t know how my life would’ve turned without your witty and at sometimes quite profound contributions to it. I still have all those mails we sent each other. I did manage to read half of it again. There are over 100 emails in my inbox from you. That’s a lot! I must’ve talked to you a lot more than I talked to anybody else. They aren’t even those five lined template type mails. They have paragraphs!!! Yes, in plural.

I don’t know if this has been a proper appreciative post. If not, I’d like to hammer in the nail and let you know that I love that you’re in my life. Don’t disappear from it. I don’t think I’ll ever let go of you. If I was there, I’d probably be like that puppy in the Hutch ads(or is it Vodaphone now?) following you around.

Love you. You are totallie awesome!!!!

 

 

Note: Yes, this had to be posted. I wrote this quite a while back when I couldn’t live being an idiot. At this moment, I do not feel like an idiot for several reasons:

  1. I met her.
  2. I met HER.
  3. I met her and she hasn’t run away.
  4. I know we’ll meet again. 
Also, when I wrote this I had no clue that we’d end up meeting so soon. I remembered how I wallowed in my own inability to meet up last year. This year has been good for so many reasons. I know what 42 means, thanks to her. We actually walked around like friends do. Also, it felt nothing like a first meeting. No awkwardness at all. I guess I have my motor-mouth to thank for that. This has been the best holiday ever. 
If you died from the mush, rest in peace. Yes, I was a giggly little girl when I wrote this. Serious idolization has happened here. 

Entirely dedicated to TotallieMeh. :)

I’m your Hutch Puppy.

Mirror Mirror

 

I’d like to walk about a random forest, singing this in a bewitching voice to that pretty girl. 

 

Mirror mirror on the wall,

Will I kill her or will she fall?

 

Rosy cheeks and raven hair

Hazel eyed, the graceful heir.

Not a fault in her, they’d find.

Set about to ruin my life.

 

The only daughter,

First-born so loved.

Those luscious lips

Flash a pretty smile.

 

Mirror mirror on the wall,

Will I kill her or will she fall?

Mirror Mirror

When I Cannot Speak.

I haven’t been feeling well for a little while now. I don’t know why. He asks me why I’m being moody. I don’t know why. She tries to cheer me up. I just want to curl up and lie somewhere. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. I’ve been excited all this week when I knew I’d spend time with them. Not even his effort into meeting me goes appreciated nor does the amazing coffee nor does her beautiful smile. I just want to go home. I just want to leave them both together and go. Go somewhere far away where there’s nothing to listen to, where no one shall talk.

 *

It’s raining. No, not even this makes me feel better. I step onto the rickshaw. I just want to get home. I feel guilty. I don’t know why. I’m home, yet I feel discontent. Nauseated, tired, I just want to fall asleep and never wake up. Tossing and turning I lie. I don’t know why. Bach. It makes me smile. I shall not be sad. There wasn’t even anything to be sad about. She rings me up. She wants me to cheer up. Not even talking to her makes me feel better. Yet, I promise that I shall be sad no more.

Then, I see your loss. Untimely loss. I don’t know how to console you. You were the one who introduced me to Bach. You were the one who kept me grounded during college. You were the one who clearly set my priorities right. You were the only one there who could scold me and tell me I’m wrong. I don’t know what to tell you. You loved her. You always mentioned her in each of our conversations. You were excited about going home. When you told me she was ill, I did pray, for your sake. As the Brandenburg Concertos play in the background, I still do not know how to console you. I shall not say anything. Though, not because I don’t care. Nothing I say will matter now. I know now, why I felt ill at ease.

*

 

If you’re reading this, I don’t know if I was right in writing about something so close to your heart. I honestly hope you pull through stronger. I know I fail at being by your side and that it wouldn’t make any difference. I know I should just let you know this directly. Though, I doubt you’d want to spend your time doing anything but remembering your mother. Also, I feel I may be intruding especially as I never even met her.  May her soul rest in peace. 

When I Cannot Speak.

White, Green and Red Too

 

Taffeta.

White silk taffeta.

Layers of it.

Enshrouding her.

Hem blending

Into the green blades.

White silk taffeta.

No more it was.

The vermillion curls

Fell onto her face.

 

Golden eyes staring.

Unfriendly hiss.

Claws shined.

Taffeta.

White silk taffeta.

In shreds.

The shadows

Stretch their arms.

Off to the apple tree

In shreds.

 

Heaving the taffeta

Up the apple tree.

Kicks off the slippers.

Poking branches.

Dishevelled hair.

Gentle feet.

Bloody now.

White silk taffeta

In shreds.

 

Leap of faith

From the apple tree.

They fall.

Red and juicy they fall.

She doesn’t.

White, Green and Red

Streaks across the sky.

Vision in white

She was not.

Anything but.

 

White, Green and Red

In shreds.

She was.

Streaks of those.

No longer white.

Green.

Now, Red too.

White, Green and Red Too