Rantings of a sane mind

This year I am not there with her to spend the New Year's eve. But she'll be home tomorrow. I know that I'll be seeing her again. I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The most wonderful of all things in life, I believe, is the discovery of another human being with whom one's relationship has a glowing depth, beauty, and joy as the years increase. This inner progressiveness of love between two human beings is a most marvelous thing, it cannot be found by looking for it or by passionately wishing for it. It is a sort of Divine accident. - Sir Hugh Walpole

Sometime back, someone had asked me about the chess incident. He asked is it right that I had to stop playing because she didn't like losing. I think he is wrong. When a man loves a woman, Can't keep his mind on nothin' else. He'd change the world, For the good thing he's found. There are somethings that someone might do for love.

The past couple of days, she has not been in my mind. I don't know whether to feel happy or sad. One half of my heart says that I am doing fine, while the other says that I am missing her. Je ne sais pas ce que je devrais faire.

The day after Christmas, I really missed her. The incident at the church and a meeting with a few of my friends brought back painful memories. Memories of friendship and pangings of love. Getting into a bus to go home, I noticed a girl sitting across the aisle. In my mind, I felt it was her sitting there. Her small mannerisms reminded me of her. I could stop noticing the girl. I knew the girl was feeling kind of uneasy at my staring. It took a conscious effort to lose that thought and fade off to sleep. I wonder when I will be seeing her again.

It's Christmas. Hurray!!! Joy to the world, The Lord is born. Christmas morn saw me reminiscing about her. Wished I could wished her "Merry Christmas". The floodgate of memories burst open when I was in church. An incident at the church triggered it. I was standing outside the church when I noticed two small kids, a boy of 6/7 years and a girl maybe 5/6 years old. They were looking at each other, thier dresses, thier difference in lifestyles. The boy seemed to from a well-to-do family while the girl was not of the same social status of the boy. I could see the girl looking at the boy with wonder, his clothes, all sparkling new. He had a water-bottle strapped around his arms. She looked at the boy with curiosity. I saw her comparing her clothes with the boy's. She was also well dressed but not as well dressed as the boy. No words were exchanged during these five minutes between them. Only looks were exchanged. The girl's were those of curiosity and the

T'was the day before Christmas. Didn't have time to think about her. I wonder why?

Two days to Christmas, I was tied up in work. I am trying to bury myself in work like an ostrich. But I know that my mind is not always on the work at hand, but on a person somewhere else. The nights are pure hell. I often try to sleep, but it is her I always see in my dreams night after night. I heard a song playing in the background last evening. I accept You from the hands of my God. Ch: You are God's gift to me, a beautiful gift. This gift of love, God has given me. I'm sorry I caused You pain. I'm sorry I offended You. May God wipe those tears from your eyes. May the God heal the hurt within You. From this day we live in love together in the love of our God. You are precious to me, You're my guide In your joys and your griefs, I'm with You Though the song is a religious one, it touched my heart deep within. I felt a calm peace prevade my heart. I listened to the song again and again. Love doesn't make the world go 'round; love is what

I go to sleep trying not to dream of her. I don't want to wake up in the night and find myself alone. I want to let go of her. I know it is hard and it is difficult. I want to get on with my life. But I don't want to let her go. I am not an actor. But now, I am becoming one. I am torn between a choice of being a friend or a lover.

I was distraught because I couldn't meet her before she left. Checking my mailbox for any updates, I found her mail buried under several mails promising quite a lot of things. I had almost sent it to trash before I read it. Nothing much from her, except that she had reached safely. Her friends were very happy and excited because she's spending the Christmas with them. She also sounded a little sad because she will not be home for Christmas this time. I could do nothing but shoot off a reply to her. ..... Christmas is a time for joy. I know that not spending it at home does not bring joy. But Christmas is not always joy. It means quite a lot of things to us than just joy. It means sharing; it means giving. It means having to make sacrifices. It means to remember our souls of our beliefs. I guess I am getting too philospohical here. But don't worry, Enjoy this Christmas with your friends. Get out into the city and enjoy it. Remember what I used to say,"Life life to t

Yesterday was a total disaster. She was leaving that night and I was trying desperately to reach her home on time. When I finally did, she wasn't there. Her mother said she had gone to a relative's place. Waiting for her, I looked around me. Her touch could be seen everywhere in her house. From a painting that hung on the wall to the precisely arranged flowers on the table. God, how would my home look if she looked after it. Her photo albums offered a glimpse of her life down the years. I hadn't really noticed how she had changed over the years. I found it difficult to believe that they were pictures of the same girl I knew. Maybe it is true that love is blind. She always looked lovely whenever she wore skirts. Her room had the presence of an intelligent woman. Books lay neatly arranged in shelves with academic related ones on one shelf and other books on another. An elegant crucifix adorned the top shelf. Her desk too was arranged so neat. I recalled her saying that

Unlike last year, we will not be together this Christmas, I am off to spend Christmas with a few relatives this time. Last Christmas was one of the best Christmases I had ever had. The spirit of Christmas was so much evident everywhere I went. Fun and joy marked those days and nights. It is remarkable how the songs I listen to are also so moody. Here are a couple of songs that I am hearing currently: Blue Christmas and Have yourself a merry little Christmas. I'll have a Blue Christmas without you. I'll be so blue thinking about you. Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree, Won't mean a thing if you're not here with me. I'll have a Blue Christmas that's certain. And when that blue heartache starts hurtin'. You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white, But I'll have a blue, blue Christmas. words and music by Billy Hayes and Jay Johnson "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" is a really a sad, sad song of l

As we had dinner last night, she seemed to be a little upset again. She looked so lonely, lost in her thoughts. My queries were met with a sad smile. She said nothing. She didn't want to. Sensing her discomfort, I quickly steered to other topics. I asked her idea of a dream job. "I want a job that is only between 9-5. No extra work, I want to come home and enjoy the household work." "A 9-5 job. No extra work. Nice to hear. But is it practical? What about your career?" "I guess that a job like that would also mean that I cannot be a career woman." "No, you can be one if you learn to balance your professional and personal lives." "I want me to give my best to both lives." "Certainly, but there may be times when you might have to forgo any one." "What does that mean?" "The boundaries of personal and professional lives are not rigid. They may overlap at times. It depends on how you face

That thin line between us, the line between friendship and love, seems to be a wide chasm. I know I should not cross it. I know I cannot cross it. I want to say that 'I love you'. I want to shout it out loud. But it is one song I cannot sing. It is one melody I cannot play for her. Because I know I am just a friend to her. A mighty pain to love it is, And 't is a pain that pain to miss; But of all pains, the greatest pain It is to love, but love in vain. from Anacreon , vii. Gold. , Abraham Cowley Last night, she called me to know how I was coping with my sickness. I said a single word, durabo . She understood. She always did. Then we spoke a lot about our mutual friends, what I was doing and what she was doing. It really feels good to speak with her for two days in a row. It brings back memories of the days when we used to spend our time together every evening, sharing jokes and stories. After it was over, I realized we never spoke about our yesterday's topic. Sh

Last night, I called her after several moments of indecision. Speaking to her, I found that she was troubled by her work. She is worried whether she is doing the right thing. She has this sense of uneasiness deep within her. I could understand what she was telling. Behind all those problems of her, I could sense her innermost fear of insecurity. She's trying hard to overcome it, yet there have been times when she has let it engulf her. I sensed it in her voice yesterday. Staying in different cities has been beneficial, instead of being detrimental. My feelings have been growing stronger and stronger. I am beginning to understand that there is more to life. It could be said that I am also trying to distance myself from her. I have greatly avoided going to the city where she's living now, despite pressures from all sides. All my best friends and relatives have been pestering me to come there; that I would have a wonderful time there. I had resisted thier pleas till now. But I

It is going to be a hard decision to take, whether to heed my heart or listen to my head. One moment, I am all ready to tell her my love for her and the very next moment, I am confused and scared to see her. Must I be content with watching from afar? This feeling of being trapped between two different worlds frightens me. Some may call it hell. I believe that Hell is not a place, it's a state of mind and body; Hell is obsession with a voice, a face, a name... Hers ... The one thing I had feared all these years was the fear of rejection. I know that she is the right woman for me. But lately the serpent of self-doubt has been nagging at every corner of my soul. The unanswerable question keeps surfacing now and then like a cloud on a warm summer day. 'Am I the right person for her?' She has helped me through my bad days, my sick days and my blue days. Her cheerful voice has brought me succour from the worries of the world. Yet the same voice would frighten me, bring en

I spoke about walking away yesterday. On second thoughts, I realized that I would be walking away from just my emotions. I still harbour my feelings for her deep within my heart. Maybe one day they will come out in the sunshine. This period of indecision seems so hard that I am often torn between the fight between my head and my heart in the words of Chris de Burgh: For we cannot live together, and we cannot live apart, It's the classical dilemma between the head and the heart; ..... And in my heart of darkness she has been the only light, I am lost in love, looking at her face, And still I hear the voice of reason, Telling me to chase these dreams away, Oh here we go again, we're divided from the start, For we cannot live together, and we cannot live apart, It's the classical dilemma between the head and the heart, ... Now the dawn begins, and still I cannot sleep, My head is spinning round but now the way is clear to me, There is nothing left, nothing left to

Down all these years, I have had numerous opportunities to convey my feelings that I had missed. A few times it had been due to bad timings and mostlt it has been due to fear. Fear that she might think that our friendship has been a sham. Fear that she would mistake me as a person who had acted as a friend to get close to her. Fear of rejection. I had feared that one day these issues would come to haunt me. Now standing at the crossroads of my life, I had decided to walk away from it all. I know it is hard to do so. But I guess if it has to be, it has to be. I decided to move out of her life. It is going to be a long and hard struggle. But it is worth it. They say that in love, absence is similar to a wind; it puts out the tiny ones, but flames the larger ones. The one thing that still gives me satisfaction is that I am not totally walking out of her life. I would still be her friend, by her side whenever she needs me. Though now we are in different cities, I hope that the dis

She is an active and hard worker, though her health fails her at times. She perseveres to get things done (unlike me) because she believes 'if she doesn't do it, who will?' She never was interested in dominating anyone nor will let anyone manipulate her. Whenever I think of her, a poem by Lord Byron comes to my mind always. It is titled, ' She walks in Beauty '. It is one of our favorite pieces of poetry. Her soft tresses have captured my mind that I get annoyed when I see other women with similar hairdos. I don't know whether hair can be called beautiful, or not. She used to have such long hair. But now she has cut it down, helped by me of course. Yet still I like the way her hair catches the sunlight casting a golden halo over her head.

I realize that it had not been what some call 'love at first sight'. It started wonderfully with us arguing on whether the shuttle fell within the badminton court or outside. She lost the argument but won my heart. That argument heralded the start of a wonderful friendship. Soon I found that we shared a few common interests like music and books. Even then we had differences on whether Puccini was better than Sibelius, and who wrote better horror, Stephen King or Dean Koontz. They were not difference in opinions leading to arguments, instead different viewpoints leading to better understanding of each other's tastes. Last week, she accompanied me to a music concert though I know she doesn't like soft music. I do the same whenever she wants to hear some 'ear-splitting' music. It was a wonderful evening, listening to music with the lady of my life beside me. If only it could happen on a more frequent basis...

She is everything a woman ought to be. Sweet and kind, pure of mind and beautiful to see. Her countenance is never without a smile or a pout. Her eyes twinkling with intelligence and humour, make me forget the cares of the world. She is also sensitive. I recall the days when I taught her the game of chess. She used to be a very talented and quick learner. Soon she was beating me in every game. I was tearing my hair in despair. I was angry with myself for having taught her the game. One day I decided it was enough. You see I had not taught her everything I knew. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve. That day, as I perplexed her with some Byzantine moves, I was on the verge of victory as she fell into my traps, laid with the cunningness of a Roman general against the barbarians. The final stroke was pure genius. As I made my move, I saw a swift hand strike the board, quick as lightning. The chessmen scattered like a flock of geese on a gunshot. A swift blur of clothing was all

Whenever I see her, I feel a quick heartening of my heart. They say that when you experience fear, you feel the rush of adrenaline and your senses heighten. I have also heard that you experience a similar sensation when you are in love. The writers of yore weren't off the mark when they had described the symptoms of love. There was a brief lull of contacts between us. Our collegiate education in different cities were one reason. I also wanted to see if I could grow out of this so-called calf love. I plunged into my studies. I felt as if I was happy. Those first few months were filled with bliss and the zest of youth. But it was just the calm before the storm. I realized that I was just being untrue to myself. Memories of her still lingered in my dreams. I longed to hear her voice, to see her. Yet deep within my heart, I had this small fear, a fear that I was wrong; wrong for having such thoughts towards my friend. I found that this fear was all that kept from rushing back ho

She's always on my mind. In my dreams and each waking thought. We know that we are friends. But she means more to me than just a friend. Every face I see on the street reminds me of her. It seems to me that she's always standing next to me, whispering softly in my ear. I first saw her when I was ten. She was just a girl who lived in the same neighbourhood. At first, I thought she was just another pretty girl, one of the many women I would come to know in the long years ahead. I was wrong. She caught my mind. I was attracted towards her. Thinking about it now, I realize that it wasn't just a physical attraction; I felt a deeper emotional attachment with her. I would be lying if I said that there was no physical attraction. But the emotional part felt stronger than the physical part. I began my attempts to know her better. I met with success on some fronts and failures in others. A psychiatrist would have just said that I was infatuated by her. Yeah, they could hav