Muted Connections

I loved what I wrote yest, I mean the poetry on the mahila. It was inspired from Abandon's profile picture.

 

The unruly hair on the forehead, the eyes that didn't smile and the looks that eats into your soul. Its not the facade that really inspired me, but the expression, the way it spoke a hundred words to me through a picture, silent, harsh almost scalding, almost chiding, almost reprimanding me to be what I want to be, instead of camouflaging the *real* me.

 

It struck a chord with the wild gypsy child. In a language of silence, in a language of muted connections.

 

And then, the clouds dissipated, the humidity came down, the anger boiled out. There was the breeze, before the thunder rains, the silence before the rumbling pitter-patters. It started smelling- of wet earth and musky emotions. I opened the windows of my heart. I felt a shiver run through me. I smelt the heavenly dirt smell. And then a single drop- as heavy as a terracotta pot of water- it plopped on my forehead, slid down my eyelashes, washed out in my tears, and ran down my cheek, the first drop of a rain that came smattering down in downpours, harsh, unrelenting, rough, that it almost hurt me as each drop pelted with a force as sharp as dagger stabs.

 

I am in love with the rains, just as I am in love with him. Both taunt me, just the same- in the same ways. Both hurt me, just the same - in the same ways. Rough, unforgiving, harsh and urgent. There is no wait to be tender. There are no soft touches. There are no foreplays. Just a wild untamed wanton fierce possession - You are mine, No two ways about that.

 

And I give in, yield - to the rain, to you.

 

Over and over again.

 

I hate the strength, I hate my helplessness, I hate my surrender. But I am in love with the rains, with him. No two ways about that.

 

And wait for the next rain, the next pounding, the next pain. And wait for you to love me that way again.

 

For another moment, another word, another picture to inspire me to come again, to rain, to you. Passionately, unrestrainedly. Ready to feel that pain in love, that moment of passion, that esctacy of unremorse. For once again, I will be me. For once again, I will shed the mask of my grace to the world- to the rains that wash me over, to you that take me over.

 

Across the distance, across the vacuum, across the static of untouched touches...take me over, wash me out.

 

Rains and you - and the muted connections.