A Thousand Years

So you lost someone you loved. 

To time, to crime, to science,  to space.

You should know that this was not the first time you loved them.

You have loved them multiple times before.

This was not the first time you both stumbled through circumstances to meet each other again.

And you both felt it faster, each time through.

And all it took was two sets of two pairs of eyes

meeting through the layers of lost lifetimes and stolen glances

and hands held among expressions of love.

and the unrelenting tide of waiting,

to set your world on fire once again, brighter than before.

So you lost someone you loved in this lifetime.

In some other lifetime, it ends differently. 

In some other lifetime, it does not end.

*Hugs*

The Unforgiving Night

Essaouira, Morocco, October 2016

Because I cannot sleep

I write 

Amidst sighs of anticipating the agony of tomorrow. 

Because I refuse to weep 

I write. 

Squinting at the city lights I crave to borrow. 

Because I have no reputation of an omnipotent god 

I write. 

No miracles or granting wishes power in my kitty 

Nor have I been known to be a tyrant 

Thus I write 

Even when revenge would have been befitting 

Because every decision comes at a cost 

I write

While the hush of the wake weighs down heavy 

Harrowed by the vestiges of the love that's now lost 

I write 

Disarmed and Unsteady. 

For theLove of Tiara's and Smith&Wesson's - Part 1

I have possessed four of them so far, at different ages, gifted by different people, and with different sensibilities involved, but every single one of them, have made me feel like an heiress every single time i have got'em. 

Yes, Heiress :) - The kinds who acquires it when inheriting isn't an option :P

TIARA #1

ICKY-POO

Self Acquired

From a railway station i believe, where my impatient eye caught its cheap plastic chin-sty glint and pointed at it with my chubby fingers, mumbling -  "Muje Chaiye".

 My folks were in their - "say no- then negotiate" phase (which they never really seemed to outgrow till date), so quite a bit of drama, and 25 bucks later, i finally got my hands on it and clutched it as if my life depended on it.

The ULTIMATE  three way Tiara, it was. No wonder i was totally kicked about it.

A Click of a button and it lit up with snazzy burst of Loud blinky colors while "kambakq ishq hai jo" gave it the final touch of crass royalty. I named it Icky Poo and loved it to death.

Its was like living the Tiara Dream :D

The dream did not last long. It lived it's last magical moments at some kiddy party(most probably mine :P) where a bunch of annoying kids took it upon themselves to use it to push prod and eventually break it, much to my teary attempts which ended with me furiously bawling (yes, i cry when i am wayy to pissed). I have looked for a similiar thing since then, but couldnt find anything quite like my Jhingalala Icky-Poo Tiara.

TIARA #2

3rd MONTHIVERSARY (YEP, I NAMED IT ON THE OCCASION)

Was from a someone i was dating. So,one day he randomly crept behind me, covered my eyes with the palm of his hand, and in complete Bollywood ishtyle, intertwined a bunch of Balloons and a smallish dirty looking box in my open hands. A sucker for surprises, I was smilling like a nincompoop, anticipating all sorts of things that it might have. He had me beaming gleefully at the Balloons itself, until my eyes almost popped off at the shiny piece of prettiness that the box held. Yes, i got the crazies. No, He dint look surprised. In fact he had a satisfied expression, as he looked on at me acting like a loony 5 year old mad clown while over the next 15 minutes i took regular turns in jumping about the entire place, wearing it the whole time and humming lightly to sitting quietly in awe at what had just happened.

Much later, I found it hurt all over (read : snapped into two) as i unpacked after our shifting and fould it in a very precarious state. 2 Cellotape bundles and lots of disgruntled comments from me later, i salvaged what i could, keeping a mental note of carrying it on myself if i ever shifted houses again. 

My exquisite Princess-Crown

It still reminds me of that day.

It still makes me smile.

TIARA # 3

PRINCESSA

My adorable Sister, gifted me this tiny tiara crown that was so beautiful that I almost cried, first emotionally and subsequently due to the sudden realization that i now possesed an absurd no. of tiara's for a 20-something Science Graduate. Needless to say the latter reason wore off in minutes.

I wore it on my away-from-home-in-a-distant-land Birthday in Japan.

My Tiara crown with my Magic (I got proof, so non-believers, you can suck it) Wand.

Jealous Much? :D

TIARA # 4

BABEL

Handmade, with pearls and patience and love by two of my awesome Friends.

Gifted on my Birthday this year. It came with a Delish cake and everything. Made me go into a verbal diarrhea of "wtf, this cant be handmade"  in amazement until i realized it was all mine, and that was all that mattered. WOOHOOO it was SO sassy and elegant in all its pearly white glory :) Ofcorse it brought out the retard kid in me. Yet again.

One of the best Gift ever. Pearly and Priceless.

I still have it and it figures, along with my wand ofcourse, in my things-il-grab-in-case-of-a-fire-list! 

Yep. I am cheesy and i know it . LOL

But no matter how much i love myself in the whole Tiara glory, for me, the ULTIMATE Princess-de-elegante will always remain Princess D. Nobody could carry the tiara off quite like her. Maybe because Both were equally equisite and therefore complementary to each other.

                                           Amen to your Immortal Beauty

                                                                 

                                             

For the love of Tiara's, Wand and Smith&Wesson's - Part 1..... To Be Continued

FairyTales

 A Beautiful Princess.An enigmatic Prince,
An Enchanted Palace. A majestic King
Whimsical Subjects. A viciously seductive Villian and of-course the Knight in shining Armour
Delicate. Flowers. Vintage. Magical. Sparkle. Dainty. Lovely. Colorful. Natural. Candles. Love. 

There is a part in all of us — a sliver of innocence left from our childhood, lying dormant — that comes alive when we read a good story, watch a movie, or experience art.

That  part that still believes in fairy tales.

I adored fairy tales as a child. 

I still do, actually. 

Mysterious dark forests, wishing wells, enchanted princes and poised apples and glass slippers not to mention, adorable animals who speak – what’s not to love? I think I always felt, curled around a volume of Hans Christian Andersen or the Grimm’s collected stories, that there was a little bit of magic hidden away at the heart of every story.

Of course, they come with thier share of darkness too. I remember sobbing over the fate of the Little Mermaid, who for all her efforts couldn’t make the man she’d fallen for, love her back. And then there’s the gruesomeness – the evil king/queen ravaged by jealousy/greed with heads rolling, feet cut off, eyes put out. In some ways, these are probably the original horror stories which have survived the decades of editing and euphemising in order to make it more child-friendly. As a child, though, I don’t remember ever being troubled by the physical violence in the tales. It all happened, after all, in a land far, far away .

I love the older darker cruel-ler gruesome tales as much as I love the cheesy ones that end with happily ever after (but I loathe that I do, but as I was weaned on Grimm and Disney, it’s ingrained). 

What I love is that fairy tales are that they are living and evolving.  They are survivors. They change to suit society’s needs. Originally they were cautionary tales warning both adults and children alike of the dangers in the world. Each tale would change with each reciting as the storyteller would embellish and adapt the tales to suit the audience and keep them enthralled.

The thing that has remained with me the most from my childhood love of these stories, though, is that sense that there is a little bit of magic hidden somewhere within them. Fairy tales, once unleashed, take on a life of their own ..  There are still some paths that, once started down, you never know where they might lead . . .

RUSH.

Sometimes, when we are not noticing, life tiptoes up from behind us and sweeps us off our feet in the most unexpected way and before we know it, we find ourselves flying. Only to realize that the lead up to our lives upto that moment was with the sole purpose to experience that one moment.