Life, Musings, Misadventures, Epiphanies by Arun Raj

Her curls stranded in fidgety fingers “Your words by no means pardon deserve.” He takes her arm – reluctance showing, “My words match not my heart’s pleasure.” Her qualm reserve striking a frown, “Your failing resolve is my heart’s displeasure.” He to goes down on his knees - in a light laugh, “Bequeath your heart - unto me, & I pledge otherwise.” A ray of light settled her eyes to a long blink, “So you promise – to never let me down?” Raising himself, his eyes – sparkling in hope, “To my best breath – till it lasts with strength!” She stood along in a silence, “There is a meaning to the words I say.” And He - in his pleading best. “Hidden in that evasive smile of yours.” In a claiming stance, she holds his arms, “And in every word I wish the audience in you.” - Arun Raj Note: The woman always has the last word.

Eve teasing, as I see it, spans from simple eye-balling (staring), to more verbal confrontations and physical assaults. I see eve teasing, in the Indian context, as stemming from the sheer ignorance of the aam-Indian household's stigma about sex. The hypocritical nature of post-colonial Indian ideologies juxtaposed with globalization presenting alternative worlds to our 'conservative' junta, distorts the craving / need for understanding the most basic of our instincts – the need to breed, pure hormonal drives. The suppressing of such hormonal drives and not being able understand feelings I deem as a latent motivator to the expression of these drives through media like brothels, dance bars & eve-teasing. This instinctive drive making men vulnerable to such deep cravings and drives them to explore these feelings. This craving is natural and equally certain to be possessed by men from the most refined families of the societies to the men of lowest end of income levels. It&

Notice - far away, a distant shrill Cry of a child - a mother await. A taken signal, a beggar child Awaits a giver - generous and fly. Wishful thinking - a child in catching stance: 'I shall be the hero, with this one in hand.' 'Dare you!' A kindergarten tot to another tries; To climb a tree or be called - loser shy. A returning father, his wage in hand Hopes a day - better shades than gray and white. A labor hand - tired on a strenuous day; Dreams - 'When I would not have to work!' A working mother, rushes home Thinking wild: ‘All my chores, and a family's wails.’ Standing by - her children, counted three! Each hand and arm full of trying screams & moans. Two lovers pass - unfazed by life, Their chemistry loud, resounding of objective lies. A few friends’ standby - catching a smoke, Telling tales - an expedition in the recent past. Standing in ovation, to a politic try; A keen crowd in loud hope - A better tomorrow! A fight breaking - a shallow cause, A

I could not have been clearer in thought than this morning. The reality sparkled as though the first ray of a dawning sun - evident of a new day's beginning. Beyond all the random clutter that spread across the vacuum of my incomplete life's distorted reality perceptions, it now sparkled clear. Every breath I took in I reminisced about what I had become – a resounding lull sustained with endless logic and reasoning. And in the lull, I stood helpless - What could I do now? In my inability to take a heart's stand on a truth that now appeared as clear as the purest form of faith - I lost her! I had failed myself! Time was one enemy - a tough adversary, always at its fighting best. I lost the silent war that we all wage with Time that builds false bridges between life’s desires and truth. In time I lost clarity of desire and truth, in time I lost strength, in time We lost faith. And thus, unlike every morning I knew today, I was waking up to a disturbing emptiness - without he