LeaveLetter.

I am surrounded by leavers... People who leave, don't stay...they just go... walk away!
There are various kinds of leavers, my excessive mulling has made me realise.

Some leavings we have no control over... Like when someone leaves because they're dead... I suppose not many people like being dead and more than a few wouldn't want others to die... That's one inevitability that everyone has to deal with and that is probably the one that angers you the least.

Maybe it is also the fact that leavers of this kind don't threaten to return and dig up stuff that would annoy you about them leaving, which would make you want them to leave anyway...

There are others who have been forced into leaving by how annoying you are... Some leave because they Love you too much... Some because they Love something else more than you... It is the call of duty to some and the habit of flakiness to others... Some are afraid they'll get stuck in one place forever, others are there far too long and are forced to eject by the consequences of their own steadfastness.

There are those who leave just to come back. Like your father does when he leaves for work and returns home in the evening. You know they'll be back, sooner or later...

Memories of leavers are much easier to hoard and cherish than the objects themselves. One can afford to be delusional and smooth over the short comings and remember just the good parts. It makes one's life seem quite bearable in hindsight...beautiful even... 

One might seem like the victimised waitor... But one does realise one is as much of a leaver as the next person...

Being self centred makes one an unconscious leaver...

One leaves when it is uncomfortable... One also leaves when one gets too comfortable...

One also leaves for the sake of leaving... Because there's somewhere to get to...

The Me, Next...

July 2008,


Lucidity often heard of, not unknown but fleeting...

The fracture elusive
But with its painful evidence omnipresent
Where? one can't tell
It becomes the person with the 'ality'

Coining big words to mean, to forget the
Next instant
To describe what it is like
Strung by a springy cord
Swinging between
scorching dying deserts and Edens of everliving waters
The nucleus and the fringes
Love and Indifference
Within a lightening of a moment.

Groping in blinding light
To grasp one true emotion
to hold on to reason (of theirs)
But All is true- as true as the scarlet
Traces on this hand and the smile in ones eyes.

Truth is the problem
The unstoppable powerful elation and the dreadful bottomless concavity
Abyssmal sometimes turned upside down to be the dizziest of heights.
Terror, stillness, silence, chaos
All in one moment at one time
One imagined that would be Amore
But that's not it...Its something else...
 I am afraid to be a widow.

To smell, they say is as good as it is to taste,

To savour, and to experience all that one has to offer and more

At a level that is notches above the physical,

Spiritual almost...

To submerge into the richest

And the most secret depths of the mystery of

The object or subject...

To find answers as passionate as the questions

That you are forced to confront,

When you Smell...

If only I could smell you now,

I think I would find the perfect answer.

Or would I...?