On A Bad Boy Note

Life is a journey, of stranger experiences... and so is ‘blood’. When we know and accept that what comes ahead, would always be much more than what we already know. There is no point resisting the pursuit of knowledge as it is an outcome of a humble acceptance of one's lack. This realization just instills a ‘craving’ within us, only to learn more. I knew, that one day I will die in its cursed pursuit, but I will still continue trying. It's just the way for me to be alive, at least for as long as I am living. Isn't it all about being and feeling alive, so is ‘love’, so is ‘blood’, and so is life. Imagine a life full of stories. It would be much like the diary of a traveler. It would be just so beautiful to watch the world, and then witness it again. Like drowning in the ocean which swirls in every eye, the bubbles twinkle while the deep water trickles down as tears. A rich life is an ocean of stories; traveled in the depths of the world and collected like pearls in an oyster shell. "Uday you fuck like a tiger", Anita moaned in peace as she cuddled. We cuddled naked on her balcony, shameless and callous, yet in ‘love’. ‘Blood’ brings its own gifts. I looked at the tall distant buildings overlooking the sea. The cloudy sky and the rampant wind smothered our conversations. "I love you Uday", she whispered. My hands slowly caressed her naked body while my thoughts caressed my uncertainties. I marveled on the series of strange events which we call life. "Why are you smiling?" she asked curiously. "I was wondering how I reached here, on your balcony. When I look at these tall buildings, I wonder about the stories behind each of these windows. I feel that Arabian Sea is nothing but an ocean of stories. Look at me, I was a confused boy who came down from the hills. And now I am here, naked with you, in the lap of the sea", I said caressing her buttocks. She kissed me again. "You look so gorgeous", I mumbled staring deep in her eyes. "I always wonder, what our story would be like?" she smiled. "Two naked lovers, shamelessly loathing themselves in front of the sea", I grinned. Blood once tasted can never be forgotten. And if you just discovered that what you tasted turned out to be your ‘blood’, then you will always yearn to taste it again. Sometimes this yearning can reach a point that it can possess you, driving you crazy in its pursuit. Only to discover that no gratification can ever satisfy this thirst. This thirst also begins to define our lives as knowingly and unknowingly we would always find a way to be around it. Soon, a previously experienced restlessness replaced every bit of my system. I knew I was burning for Anita, and the alcohol was taking me back to those days when I tasted my share of ‘blood’ with her. Tucking inside my bed, the moments of losing innocence came back, re running her glimpses. Though my sloshed eyes could barely open, but the detailed clarity of those moments spent with her were fresh. I felt her lap on which I often rested my head and her breath, which was so addictive. All I wanted was her, as somehow finding her is eventually turning out to be the purpose of my life, and perhaps my sole reason for survival. Is the pursuit of ‘love’ also a fantasy? Every fairy tale ever told to each one of us is more or less about ‘love’. It appears like we are born on this planet only to find ‘love’ and thus that would remain our pursuit for the rest of our lives. The entire experience of the human race throughout ‘time’, eventually juices down to one feeling called ‘love’. ‘Love’ like ‘blood’, connects each one of us. Thus we all are nothing, but a universal connection of ‘love’. From cinema to music to art, everything beautiful, whether good or bad has to do something with ‘love’. Like the entire mankind has spent their lifetime just experiencing various shades of it. Its influence drives us, pursuing our virtues and vices only to understand what we truly love. What do we ‘so badly’ want? With whom do we want to spend the rest of our lives? And thus life is nothing but a journey of ‘love’, paved with good and bad experiences. But the only question which intrigued me for quite some time still remains unanswered. “Whatever that happens to us in our lives, is it our destiny or is it our ‘karma’ returning our deeds?” Human beings are born travelers, and they undergo two kinds of journeys in their lives. One within the world, and the other traveling within one's own self. My journey within the world was tainted with a bad omen. The omen of the ‘dark dream’, which conveyed my blissful deeds and its consequences. The last few glimpses were my worst fears. The ‘dark dream’ had changed something inside me, it had smothered my innocence that night. It thus became a regular toil for me to sleep at night. For many nights I struggled with my conscience. The worst part, I couldn't talk to anyone about it because in a social context, I was ‘wrong’. When the roads of the world appear constricted, traveling the roads of the soul gives the way. The journey within my own self remained to be traveled. I had no clue about such a journey then. But on one out of many such nights, I discovered a new shade of ‘red’. On a bad boy note... So confused... What to choose And what to leave. A million paths And my heart deceives... Its own master... Smitten by beauty, And eaten by loath... On a bad boy note... It was my pride Or just my guilt, Good on fire, And bad in the quilt... And to my down My head did tilt, On a ‘Whatever’...