Life, Love, Waves, Roses and other crazy things

I have stood by the sea shore for 25 odd years. The waves come in and if you are near enough, it plays against your feet, flows through your toes and hums a sweet melody in your heart. But then, just as soon it comes in, it goes away leaving behind a memory and a yearning for more.

Love had always been that way with me. It comes in, wets my feet, flows through my toes, hums a sweet melody in my heart and lights a fire in my soul. But then as soon as the music starts and the fire ignites the wave flows back extinguishing the music and the fire in my heart and in my soul.

And so went my life, I thought. And so it is. Maybe I need a boon from God. A special boon requesting that the waves stop and always play within my toes and in my feet, a boon so that music doesn’t stop and the fire always burns.

A boon is needed right? I intended to stop the waves and confine it around me. I wanted something for me. Maybe it’s selfish I thought. Maybe it’s selfish to ask for got to confine the waves so it’s always with me.

But then is it selfish? I am not asking for the whole ocean. Just a wave. All I want is to say that I have a wave which is mine in the little part of the world I call my own.

And maybe I need God’s boon for that.

But then I met her. And my whole world changed. It wasn’t a boon I learnt I needed. But rather I needed to find the right person.

It was funny, dystopian, crazy and interesting all at the same time. From afar, she gave me the green signal that she will be mine; she will the  wave that will sing forever in my heart.

But then, when I go near the green signal turns to red and she pushes me away. I was confused. But then it was only later I understood that even when you stand at a place where the wave is always present, the wave ebbs and flows. It flows in and flows out. That’s the case with her as well. She flows in and flows out. But then she’s the wave that always stays within my heart. Just like a wave.

Also, She’s a flower. A rose to be exact. I once read a poem somewhere, which said that a rose never gets plucked. It gives itself willingly. If you try to pluck a rose without it’s consent, it pricks you with it’s thorns. But then if a rose agrees to come with you it will give itself to you and it will make you spellbound in the beauty of its blood red petals. She was like that a rose which came willingly to me.

It’s easy to be clichéd. It’s easy to tell her she’s my happiness and sadness. It’s easy to tell her she’s the major part of my life. It’s easy to say that my life and death is determined the blinking of her eyes and movement of her eyelids. But then that’s clichéd. And she’s anything but that. Truth be told, she will laugh at my face, if I say something along these lines.

And as she became mine the whole meaning of what the world meant changed. A one track mind started seeing the other lanes on the road. I learnt there’s life beyond the sunset and the end of a party. There’s life beyond ambition and life beyond yourself.

I know this though. I know one lifetime is not enough for me to understand who you are, touch  your soul and make it fully mine. Knowing me and how much I love to speak and write, I know that the rest our lifetimes is not enough for me to tell you the depth of my love. That will not stop me though. Nor,  I know will it stop you. My words, your kisses and our actions will keep showcasing what we are to each other till the end of time maybe.

Also, let’s be clear on something though. The smile of hers can knock a guy down. Its not about the way she smiles. It’s about the way her face lights up. It’s about the way her eyes turn wide open, her cheeks glow and her full lips split apart to showcase those perfect teeth. But those are just the physical attributes of hers. There’s something else which makes her smile different. It’s almost angelic. It’s like an aura which she projects. An aura which makes everyone around her get that infectious smile.

The above is an ramble. Yes I agree. Love is an confusing animal at the best of times, but in the hands of over thinking, over analysing human love loses all resemblance of sanity.

So what’s the crux? You got the girl. You got to own the metaphorical wave that you wanted in the beginning of this prose. And you got to do it without asking for a boon from God. What else? You may ask.

There’s so much more I will say. First of those will be, what’s the new boon I will ask God?