Passion on beach

Seas tell a unique story,

long romantic walk,

kissing in the wild,

open crest of waves,

azure sea and breeze,

blue sky fading slowly into grey,

white sand,

footprints leaving a mark,

imprint of pleasure and moaning,

fellow travelers swaying to the tune,

laden with shades of uncertainty,

marooning on love and lust,

trees rooted on sand,

standing alone,  

offering shades to lovers clicking moods and moments,  

Selfie talk on social media,

joy to intimate and honeymoon lovers,

Silent night,

unbridled pain and passion,

ushering into lovemaking,

someone shall wait in the breezy night,

interspersed with emotions and fluttering wind,

worries shall end,

naked skins merging into each other,

consummate and escapade tale,

bearing a secret,

we shall never tell,

Forgetting it ever existed,

nestled inside a hotel room,

watching hues and views,

nature carries a price in an idyllic destination.

Mirage at cusp of darkness

Dry leaves,

drenched in a patch of mud,

deserted forest,

birds squeaking,

 legs lolling in quest of destination,

yearning for the lone wooden ship,

growing small and disappearing in distance,

 flowing in the still water,

silent glances of travelers,

 Pain,

defeat,

dim hope,

leaving present memory behind,

vision of opening eyes to a new world,

wait is longer,

chased by batons and arms,

no dignity left perhaps,

moon losing its sheen,

eruption of darkness,

a mirage at cusp of darkness.

Breaking away from Emotions

Human emotion is defined as carrying multiple factors such as physiological arousal, expressive behavior and conscious experience. The various reactions to sensations be it, fingers accidentally burnt by the stove, feeling of love, intimacy or sex, pain, heartbreak, tears and first instinct of getting angry if we were deprived of dinner whittles down to our emotions as human beings.

What if we could break free from our emotions affecting the brain and pushing us to behave in a more logical way than the other? Being emotionless would imply not responding to any known thing and to guard the self against pain or happiness. Highly unlikely since emotions offer us stability and the ability to love in better ways as humans for we certainly don’t want to become robots or vultures in human form, destroying lives. I am intrigued on bringing a possible disconnect between the emotions and the brain. Perhaps, we wouldn’t feel any pain or hurt.

The various emotional depths are explored by the James Lange Theory of emotions explaining that an external stimulus leads to a physiological reaction, triggering emotions. The fear that rages inside us of falling ill some day or being hit by a car and not finding love after being rejected zillion times makes us insecure. How many times have we heard a friend telling, ‘I don’t feel anything for him or her’? A tale of being emptying the emotional cup after going through upheavals and being filled to the brink that there is no feeling left inside us for that ‘special person.’

I often wonder about the possibility of tired souls undergoing healing after being drained emotionally and being asked to empty everything like this glass of water to experience something fresh inside to chuck out the accumulated garbage inside. Is there something called good emotion or bad emotions, good break up or bad break up and good love or bad love?

The social conditioning or behavioral compass triggers us to react in one way when a pesky relative would call out of the blue and propelling us to act in a cold manner. What if the person offers us something that we love having, in that case, Alphonso mangoes? I bet, it will alter our reaction and makes us wonder what pulls our emotional trigger inside the brain. Such altering behaviour can be quite effective on reactions and how destroying misplaced ego can help us save many relationships, stay calm and can work pretty well to diffuse unnecessary conflicts that acts detrimental to both our mental and emotional health.

It culminates into the last point, the Cannon-Bard theory of emotion enumerated on the experience of physiological reactions and emotionally linked without zilch feeling.  For instance, one may feel pain owing to bad food consumed the last night rather than anger. This addresses the main argument on disconnecting the self from emotions where the theory weighs on emotional responses occurring in a fast manner for us that it becomes tricky to deduce whether they are products of physical exertion or the fear in front of lurking danger appearing in the place of a tingle sensation to run away as the immediate reaction.

Often, a matter of cause-and-effect, emotions are interlinked to the flesh or how disconnected we become with our inner state of being which is increasingly complex to assess. There may not be a clear-cut assessment in separating ourselves from emotions which is a near impossible thing but can happen over fleeting seconds. No, we cannot dissociate emotions but in a moment, a pain may trickle over rather than emotions. There was a time when it was hard to imagine living without this girl but now, her mere sight doesn’t arouse anything in you because sensation and emotions are quite flexible in adapting itself to your new environment.

Flash Fiction: Love Climax

White skirt sat on the near perfect skin and fluttered by the breeze as the pair of legs plodded to plonk on the lone bench in the park. A colorful hat hid the pretty hair like the forced smile hiding the pain on Neha’s face. She switched off her handset and flung it in the lake. He never came! She was numb and furiously flailed her legs in the air. The broken heart vowed not to love ever again. A strange sensation tightened her chest like an evil force on a rampage and she passed out on the bench.

A gentle kissed touched her cheek, stroking the long hair and dripping saliva felt on mouth. She slowly opened her eyes and saw him standing in front of her. It cannot be a dream, the lake, wind and the park, she enthused. He smiled and bent on his feet, gently holding her hand. “Sorry for making you wait,” he said. “I missed the train that went in flame. Love conspired for us to be together.” She got up and hugged him tightly, exploring every nook of his lip, caressing his face and kissing his eye. “You are mine forever. Nothing can take you away from me,” she beamed.

Fiction: The impermanence of everything

The door yanked open. A ruffle of wind in burst almost pushed the skinny body jerking upward and backward, the balance tilted just in time by the semi brown classic shoes, hand glued to the wall. The legs became numb and a burning sensation rippled through the skin as cold wave seeped through. Mike lost his way and wandered aimlessly like the night's vagabond, emptying a bottle of Vodka quenching his thirst and warming the body in the frozen winter. Alcohol washed all the pains and troubles of a broken marriage.

A floor littered with fags end, crumpled papers, alcohol bottle whose stench wafted in the dimly lit room and thick dust which would make anyone ran away. He liked it that way, the obnoxious smell of everything, the tiny bed lying in a corner and black and white TV in this garbage called a room. No one to make love to after the wife of ten years slapped the door and a lawsuit on him for his alcoholic ways or the apple of his eyes, the only two-year-old daughter adopting a new father to disown her legitimately, natural one.

The saga continued uninterruptedly like the monsoon in the city for days, weeks and months, cheap alcohol, cigarette, drugs and a new girl every night. The doting father has turned into a pleasure seeker, destroying every moment of his life every moment till the monsoon washed the entire building that crumbled and collapsed. Like every resident of the old building, there was no sign of Mark who the world told swam in blood coalesced into the angry water to meet his end. He became history. The heavy rain washed his pain and trauma which no alcohol, fags or women could do.

On the banks of Vanarasi, sat a white man adorned with wooden amulets, flower garlands and ring as the conch blew for the evening arati lighting up the old city. An old friend could recognize the fresh face behind the unkempt beard and dressed in saffron robe who whispered into his ear, "Dead to the world, how can you fool me, Sadhu Mark?" The Sadhu remain unaffected and gently touched the shoulder of the stranger, "You may be the friend to a certain Mark who died six months ago in the heavy rain. Nothing is permanent, my son and belongings are just an illusion, sex, love, life, and property. Bondage is the biggest lie. Go ahead for the arati."

The Sadhu went into his world of trance and no protest from an old chum would perturb him from his task. He was a changed man with a new identity, sprinkling blessings on travelers and visitors. The saffron-clad religious man got up, trotted his naked feet and took a dip in the Ganga.

L-word

Love,

simply woven word,

right in the tapestry of thoughts,

encircling the universe,

fragmentation of feelings,

over abused,

faking it,

albeit reducing to nothingness,

L-word,

is what we need,

spinning strength and emotional balance,

loving like there is no tomorrow,

plagued by uncertainty,

pain reflects the harbinger of hope,

too real,

forsake everything we have,

in its name,

be real,

they often tell,

narrating tales of angst and pain,

firm up in the chasm of real emotions,

 driving us to the path of belief,

feel it inside.

Vishal

 

Burden lost to smiles

Dark alley,

Serenaded by a line up of muddy thatched and bamboo structures,

lesser humans call it home,

feeble light surfacing,

cattles grazing on burnt grasses,

peasant life,

cut off from modernity,

and humdrum of city life,

dwellers squatting on mud,

under the roof of jamoon trees,

wrinkled faces,

children drenched in a pool of mud,

clothes slapped on hardened stones,

aspirations lost in translation,

nursing wounds of destiny,

no modesty to wear on the sleeve,

rummaging through the barren soil,

to feed hungry stomachs,

cooing of birds in the night,

a humble lullaby to the ear,

timid smiles and grins hiding pain,

unburdened by guilt,

happiness is heavy barter to trade for.

 

Longing and lost on dark boulevard

A seemingly lost road,

unfamiliar boulevard and lanes.

Fazed and disjointed,

I long for a home,

something to call my own.

Craving for new friends,
 a woman to share my life

Momentary love

Isn't it traded on the market of hearts?

A courtesan for company,

nursing tears and healing wounds,

listening to deep dark secrets and whining.

After all, I am paying for company,

in exchange for an ear to listen and tender shoulder,

unbound caress,

adventure frill.

Making love behind the dark walls at night,

admiring tall buildings,

a silent and stranger lover,

we crave for company,

Closed mouth dipped into each other,

healing pain and distress 

rubbing salt on wound of separation 

It isn't just love that ordinary mortals seek,

but exploration of the mind and body,

to quench the thirst.

Encounters in an intriguing city

It may not last an hour

but who cares?

as long as it cuts corner and close gaps.

Love

V