In Lots Of Vehement Emotions


The setting was perfect. The mild breeze over the vast blue lake was rustling the canopy of the tall trees around the terrace of the lakeside restaurant. The wooden bridge connecting the restaurant and the far side of the lake sat in the periphery like the finer details of an artist’s masterpiece – greatly intensifying the overall beauty. The sky was a palette of yellow, orange and red, with the sun moving away to mark the onset of a memorable and gratifying evening.

Everything had to be perfect, and I reiterated that to the manager multiple times. He assured me with such competency that it almost settled my jitters. I took a deep breath, tried to calm myself down when the manager said with a twinkle in his eye, “Sir, she’s here.”

I turned, and there she was. Dressed like a dream in motion, she walked with the grace of a queen, yet she seemed to carry a carefree hop betraying the child within her she chose to share only to some. The bashful smile on her face didn’t help her cause, as the entire place arranged itself around her. Nothing seemed to contain her, yet you could find her in every small part of my being. As I looked at her approaching me, the manager and other people faded away; the noises around quietened, and we were alone. Alone in that magnificent setting, just me and her.

“I could look into your eyes,
Until the sun comes up,
And we’re wrapped In light and life and love.
Put your open lips on mine,
And slowly let them shut,
For they’re designed to be together oh.
With your body next to mine,
Our hearts will beat as one,
And we set alight,
We’re afire love!”

I still remember how it all began, she being the apex with me being the base; she was the flower the florist kept for his beloved while I was the one never sold. It sometimes happens that the ladder turns into a circle, bringing two ends of a spectrum together which gives a rather interesting image. I found myself closer to someone many dreamed to be in the vicinity of. Talks, sharing, aid, advice, support, infatuation, addiction  – all followed. I cannot say when did the emotion develop; maybe it just clicked into existence the same day we met, like one of those secret treasures in video games that you desperately need but you don’t know you needed it. Keeping an eye on her whenever she was around transitioned from my pass time to my habit. The feeling of warmth that spread through when she smiled at me, and the utter dread of having displeased her greatly after some erroneous incidents led to the realisation – that I had dropped into the mythical abyss about which the writers penned, the poets wrote and the singers sang. I felt a new lease of life, a new direction to heed my boat into, and my heart had a new found outlook wherein the world was richer, brighter and happier. The ficklest of creatures had fallen prey to the most savage of predators, the lightest feather had dropped from the dove and landed on me. Years and years of hitherto unknown bounds had been broken by a carnage, and I got a freedom I didn’t know I could have.

“So you can keep me,
Inside the pocket
Of your ripped jeans,
Holdin’ me closer
‘Til our eyes meet,
You won’t ever be alone!”

I never knew the onset of a ‘relationship’, it just seemed that we unlocked each other – two complete souls finding their complement. We were both each other’s pillars, hands that clasped which would be impossible to separate in the fiercest of storms. She dug me out of my muddy waters, replenished me when I thought I was drained and made me believe in myself. Piece by piece, she took the pain to rebuild the shards of a broken soul, taught it that the world blossoms when the heart leaps, and that every night, however dark, has an end. She taught me that a fish cannot drown alive, and that a bird cannot afford to be afraid of heights. Inherently, we both taught each other the valuable lesson – to give everyone importance, but to set only the choicest few as priorities.

“Loving can heal,
Loving can mend your soul.
And it’s the only thing that I know (know),
I swear it will get easier,
Remember that with every piece of ya,
And it’s the only thing we take with us when we die.”

We sat there, she beaming away, and I merely comprehending her the way a child watches on at their heroes. I could listen to her speak all night, all day, all year, until I ceased to exist. She made me feel high, intoxicated me to the level no amount of drinks could. She put her hand over mine, and raw current passed through my body. She talked, I listened. I reasoned, she objected. The fact that we could brew up the most meaningless conversations amidst the most intellectual debates made us uniquely us. But more so, we could share moments of silence – beyond the brash and impertinent notions of conversations –  and still exchange tons of our talk. Her eyes had a spark that reminded me of the power she could wield, instantly smashing you into smithereens if you made a crime; yet they were deep and soft; she had the natural feminine kindness which would be exponentially enhanced when filled with yearning and desire.

She was a source of light, and I was the shadow. She was bright, illuminating, and I was dark, refrained. Yet we weren’t like other lights and shadows, which ran out of fuel and things would be over. She was the sun, and I was there wherever she graced her influence. And in the night, when the world threatened to turn it’s back on her, I would gladly be the moon to reflect her light and to show the world what it was missing out on.

“Oh you can fit me,
Inside the necklace you got when you were 16,
Next to your heartbeat,
Where I should be,
Keep it deep within your soul.”

People often have perceptions of their better halves, and I certainly did – adjusting, remodeling and redesigning after each dent it received. Sitting with her, I silently wondered when did I ever perceive such a colossal piece of grandeur. Then I understood I did not, the more I observed her I added a new stroke on the canvas, a gentle chisel on the final features of my sculpture, making them nearer to reality. Little did I know that my perceptions were a mirage of myself and my wants, and she is the reflection of myself and my needs. She found me, I found her, with each of us still being us – just a little more familiar. That is the entire purpose of the eternal quest – to know us better via the heart and soul of a chosen one.

“We make these memories for ourselves,
Where our eyes are never closing,
Hearts are never broken,
Time’s forever frozen still.”

The sun had set, and the bright moonlight reflected across the lake, shimmering along it’s boundaries. We walked, hand in hand along the wooden bridge, silent, enjoying each other’s company and taking in the beauty nature had decided to bless us today with. How I wished it would start to rain, but that would make things a little too perfect. At the end of the bridge, under a small lighted boulevard along the bridge, she abruptly came to a stop and turned to me. With a characteristic mischievous smile glamouring in the faint orange light, she put her arms around me and leaned in, and I was only willing to oblige..

“When I’m away,
I will remember how you kissed me,
Under the lamppost,
Back on 6th street,
Hearing you whisper through the phone..”

My eyes opened. It took me a few minutes to get my bearings and to grasp the fact that it was just a dream.
“Someday, man,” I smiled to myself, reassuring my sighing heart. “Someday, we’ll be there.”

Quote Lyrics from Ed Sheeran’s ‘Photograph’ and ‘Afire Love’.
tangytuesday Tangy Tesday Picks – Feb 16 2016!


  1. That seamless cycle of hopes and dreams.
    A literal illustration of the quote, “Hope is a waking dream”; other than the ofcourse, the intensity of pure love.
    I grudgingly LOVED the end!
    P.S: My day started with reading this and i could have never asked for more. *Always a fan*!

    Liked by 1 person

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