Keep A Peek

In between pauses of suffocation, there are stolen little glints of ecstasy. There is nothing symbolic about my wanting you to be inside. Really, nothing. I categorically put on various masks of defence, the occasional frown is perhaps the only one you noticed. But there is so much more than that. On the brim of explosion I suddenly recall this one time when we were both right there, on the exact same spot, sipping tea from two cups and sitting 2367 meters from eachother. That picture is sacred to me even then. But 4376 heartbeats later and here we are. The contours of your body threatens to engulf my sanity but all I could do is quiver. And ponder. I am trapped in a mindless quest to find out the sources of my obsession and bemusement, the alpha and omega of this operation seems like a chapter out of a tragicomedy. The beauty of oblique indulgence lies in its expandable possibility of positive reinforcement. The funny thing is I don’t crave anything beyond the dangerous volatility of verbal reassurance. But damn do I love your eyes when you utter those forbidden words. Soft and encrypted, hard and dancing.

It was a strange feeling. When I looked into the crowd and was swept over by an immense need to cry. I stood frozen in time, frozen in my sudden urge to reach inside myself and yank out my heart. The thundering beats, the florid lights, the melodic swaying, the sweat and the smell. If I’ve tried I could have captured them. But the missing note will still be missing. The moment felt incomplete, it couldn’t even justify tears. “You can fuck me but you can’t have my soul” The singer bawled and I jumped and yelled along. Stamping on feet and clapping on hair. Arms in the air and eyes wide shut.  The mimicry felt like a mockery but was soothingly so. The little sparks of neon light were accentuated to a point where I could only laugh at their helpless extravagance. Everything was vulnerable and strong, confusing and unraveling, big and small at the same time. I wander the two spaces of my bipolarity and wonder what is it like to be pined down in a singular dimension. Perhaps then lights and sounds could reach inside me. Perhaps then lyrical moments could touch me. Perhaps then being held from behind could disarm me. Perhaps then it’d be easier to cry.

There will never be a wrong time to say this, but I really do think you are shaping up as a fine young lady. There are still some kooks and kinks burrowed somewhere under that impeccable camouflage of yours which perhaps you’re still figuring out how to refine, but if there is one thing I am allowed to tell you, it’ll be this - nothing that could be taken away from you you cannot learn to live without. Preconceptive fear included. Are your preemptive measures against failure stopping you from taking risks? You’re a tough lass, you’ll suck it up just fine. Don’t silent the rebel in you, I like her. You are fickle and impulsive, too loud, talk too much and have the tendency to be self-righteous. I’d ask you to tone down all of those traits but you already know that, don’t you? You care too much and too abundantly, I’m still undecided if this is a gift or a curse. You know that voice in you that tells you to be rational and cautious? Yeah. Don’t listen to her. When you worry about being too fiery, too fast, too furious, bring along some friends, they’ll cushion the impact. They’ll hate you but they’ll still love you because they are awesome. And what the hell happened to your penchant for mischief? You should get back your groove of getting into trouble, just for the heck of it, y’know. Before you’re too old and too jaded. Sometimes I think you are a tad too … squarish, you know what I mean? Let loose a lil, you owe it to yourself. Your dreams and ambitions are too precious to be traded with money or status or any of those societal normalcy bullcrap. You’re not cut out for that. Read more, write more, sing more, play more music and stop eating crappy food. Celebrate your wit and spontaneity, but wish upon yourself also the wisdom to live and let live, the capacity to embrace kindness, the magnanimity to forgive humanely faults and the courage to laugh in the face of danger.  Live a little, breathe a little, dance a little, love a little, laugh a little and you will be just fine. I’m not going to wish you a smoothsailing year ahead, but I do wish you the strength to overcome all adversity, the tenacity to piss in the wind and the guts to stare down the barrel of a gun. Oh and, stop biting your nails.

Happy birthday.

I think it was two years ago. The feelings have blurred along with the distorted wholeness of my memory of it, but I remember the foot rub.

In the midst of extreme fatigue and the heavy weight on my shoulders from being the single director and possibly the only sane one left after that nights event, I was sullen, angry and frustrated even after the concert ended. No sense of achievement even after the torrents of congratulatory wishes, or maybe I had, but was too numbed to feel it. The only remotely human feeling I had left was the prodding pain in my feet from running around the entire day in high heels. I fell into bed without removing the heels, and just wanted to pass out and sleep off the pain and the nagging emptiness that was too empowering for me to ignore.

He climbed into bed and lied next to me. The lights were still on and I can hear our breathing echoing against the wall. The thing with me is, I turn silent and shut down under extreme emotions, or the lack thereof. Sensing my reluctance for any form of verbal communication, he waited. The prodding in my feet ensued and I waited. And then he did something unexpected. He switched off the lights, removed the blanket from my body, took off my heels and socks and started massaging my feet.

Now under normal circumstances that could have been sensual and possibly conjured up foreplay-like images in my head. But that night, that night it felt different. It felt different because it was such a simple gesture that came just when I needed it. It speaks to me of understanding, accommodation and affection, and it was beautiful because it was pure. It tore down the layers of camouflage I had unwittingly built around me and I felt liberated. Suddenly the politics, the mind-games, the anxiety, the under-appreciation, the power play and everything that was consuming and eating me up inside just blurred into the background. The world feels right again, and I was reminded again of the very reasons how it all started, and why I am here. And why we are.

A good relationship has a pattern like a dance and is built on some of the same rules. The partners do not need to hold on tightly, because they move confidently in the same pattern, intricate but gay and swift and free, like a country dance of Mozart’s. To touch heavily would be to arrest the pattern and freeze the movement, to check the endlessly changing beauty of its unfolding. There is no place here for the possessive clutch, the clinging arm, the heavy hand; only the barest touch in passing. Now arm in arm, now face to face, now back to back — it does not matter which. Because they know they are partners moving to the same rhythm, creating a pattern together, and being invisibly nourished by it.

- Anne Morrow Lindbergh

The truth is, one day you wake up and realize your life is on autopilot. And it has been so for a long time. It seems like somewhere in your sleep you left behind that restless disobedience and decided it was time to let some clichéd world-weariness set in. What was nothing more than a nuisance to your rational mind before has now become you and you seem to wear the new skin pretty comfortably. What happened to your claws? You have always been a non-conformist, but for some unfathomable reasons, you are more willing to thwart your principles now. Hey I’m not saying this is a bad thing. But a little bit of spikes here and there would have been nice. Are you still afraid of the same things you were afraid of 5 years ago? Or even last year? Do you still believe in the same things you believed in? Or are you too jaded to care about silver linings anymore? When was the last time you cry? Sometimes I worry that you are too smart for your own good. Do you really think you have the world and its people figured out? You don’t seem too sure sometimes. You have some pretty awesome friends ya know, so do yourself a favor and make some effort to keep them. Maybe someday you will learn that vulnerability is just human. Baring your flaws can be endearing and to fret over spilled milk is stupid. You should learn to please yourself before you please everyone, because trust me, it is harder. Have you satisfied your wanderlust? You are too young to stop searching. Stay curious, stay foolish. I like that about you.  And for christ’s sake, change your toothbrush at least once a month. By the way, what’s up with the snoopy pyjamas you’re wearing right now? It looks silly on you. But y’know, please yourself.

Knowing your warped sense of humour, I think you will like this:

Happy birthday.