Arabian Kisses
Look at my view, what would you see?
Is it the sea dancing with the sand?
The fishing boats upon the sea at night creating their magical city of lights?
The sea breeze flirting with the palm trees?
Or would you look up to the star covered sky and be overcome with the omnipotent all?
Yes I am surrounded by all this beauty, yet the only beauty I see is her staring back at me.
Romance has once again found me, love it seems is all that surrounds me.
Holding each other in a divine embrace will be the only memory needed from this heavenly place. If magic moments leave us with a sense of awe and transcendence, then let this be the greatest illusion of all.
Journey
Sea green colours
Visions of palm trees
Star crossed lovers
My dreams get the best of me
Sandals in hand
Feet in the sand
Being on a journey
Exploring the beat inside me
Fixing the skin I wear
Turning my smog to clean air
Breaking shackles
Getting rid of the evil and pain
This sacred warrior roams free
No longer in captivity
The Boy
There is a boy named Shushi exhaustedly hanging from the side of his canoe made of large tree branches. This canoe is bound together by yellow rope; his paddle, two pieces of wood. He is hunting for treasure. Profitable treasure.
Shells.
Shells to sell to tourists in the lovely town of Pondicherry. He has been doing this all morning. Paddling off the shores of the Indian Ocean, diving into the ocean and searching for the best shells he can find. He tells me he wants to be an adventurer and sail the seas.
So he searches for shells to sell to some day buy a real boat, and live his great adventure.
Watching Shushi tirelessly search for his shells I pray he finds a chest full of gold and gems. After all don’t all adventures deserve a tale or two?
Showing posts with label short story.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story.. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
In the Toronto Airport
In the Toronto airport, while waiting for my flight back home, I struck up a conversation with an Indian man in his 60s. He was on his way back to Calgary from India. Excited by this, I told him that I too was coming home from India. I casually asked him what he was doing in India. He told me he was in Amritsar (Punjab) with his wife because his niece was getting married. He had to come back earlier for work (he runs his own pharmacy), but his wife was staying a few weeks longer.
My family loves her, she is the eldest so everyone listens to her. She is very loving and giving.” He smiled with joy after the comment. I gave a little smirk.
“How about you? Why were you in India? Getting married?” Insert awkward laugh from me.
Then, and I don’t know why, I lied.
I told him that I actually was going to move to India for work, but that I am in love with a woman in Vancouver and that I am going back to ask her to marry me. A romantic lie yes, however what he told me next was a little crazy.
“Sounds familiar,” he said.
“Oh really? You know someone?”
“Me,” he said.
Honestly, I was not prepared for that answer. He told me that many years ago he went chasing after a young lady in Vancouver. She was white. He told me that after he finished school his family thought it best for him to come to Canada because of the better opportunity at the time.
“It was the ‘70s, so basically the thinking was I would make more money and help the rest of the family,” he told me -- which is a very common story of that time.
So he came to Canada to become a pharmacist and that’s where they met.
“Her name was Michelle, Michelle LeClair.” He went on: “Her family was originally from Quebec, but her parents moved to Calgary.” Her father worked in oil.
They met during school orientation. “She thought my accent was funny; I told her it was attractive,” he joked.
Slowly and secretly they started to see each other and fell in love. “Like all young people do,” he grinned. Trust me this guy was like an old Indian Paul Newman or how I would envision an old Indian Paul Newman to be.
They dated for almost two years and then midway through university she switched schools and moved to Vancouver -- something about UBC being better for her career.
Of course, he was heartbroken.
Of course, I was sitting next to this man thinking about how my lie got him telling me his love story, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was supposed to hear it.
“That summer I felt like I was in one of those Bollywood love stories, very sad, and listening to sad Bollywood songs,” he said.
“What did you do?” I asked, like a five-year-old.
“I jumped on a bus and went to Vancouver!”
The scene started to form in my head. I could see this handsome Indian man sitting on a bus with a flannel shirt and bell bottoms while Love Somebody by the Bee Gees played in the background.
“I went to the UBC and started looking for her. I had not seen her in months so I was very excited! Finally I see her in the cafeteria.”
My heart was screaming about this romantic movie moment.
Then he said: “I go to her and she is surprised to see me but very happy, and in that moment I don’t know what came over me, but I ask her to marry me.”
“Young love can make us crazy!” he added. I was sitting at the edge of my seat waiting for him to finish.
“We walked outside and talked and she said that we couldn’t get married because we are from different cultures and her parents would never accept me and that it was best if I go back to Calgary.”
Crushed.
Here I was starting to think that his wife in India is a woman named Michelle. That two people could look past what makes them different and saw how similar they were. That they fell in love and that’s all that mattered.
But no. He jumped back on a bus the next day and came back to Calgary, heartbroken. He told me he finished school, went back to India, got married to his wife Kiran, had kids, and lives a very wonderful life.
“So I hope she says yes to you,” he joked, while I laughed awkwardly, feeling bad that I lied and feeling bad that there was no happy ending.
“So tell me her na—“
“That’s such a sad story!”
Yes he did ask her name, and yes I did talk over him.
“Not entirely,” he said, “I wouldn’t have met my wife if she would have said yes.”
I gave him a half-hearted smile and after a few silent moments he told me what I think is the best part of the story.
“About two years ago, I went to a wedding in Vancouver. A friend’s son was getting married to a white girl... And guess who her mother was?”
“Michelle?” I sounded like a teenage girl.
He nodded yes and my heart exploded. He told me that he went up to her, spoke to her and asked her about life. She said that she finished school and became a teacher, met a very good man and had three kids; her daughter who was getting married was the middle child. After a little more banter he finally asked her: “How did you let her daughter marry an Indian?”
She told him that one day there was a knock at her door, and when she opened the door she saw a young Indian man standing there.
“But all I could see was you,” she told him.
The boy had come to ask for her daughter’s hand in marriage.
“She told me that she never met him before because her daughter thought her husband and her would not approve, and her daughter ended the relationship months before. She believed it wouldn’t work because they have different backgrounds.”
He went on: “She said that when he asked her all she could say was yes, because she wanted her daughter to be happy with whomever she chose to be with.”
He was very happy to hear that and he told me that as she was about to leave, she turned to him and told him that although her husband was a wonderful man, he was too. He grinned at me and my heart went wild!
After a few pleasantries Sagar left to catch his flight.
I sat there thinking about what I just heard. Ideas like the laws of Karma and lessons we must learn kept going through my head. I thought that Sagar loved Michelle, but their love story was a lesson for Michelle, who thought that they couldn’t work; that you have to try and give your all in love, because our failures in love can be our or someone else’s lesson; that all stories of love, no matter what ending they may seem to have, will give birth to other love stories, and because of that there will always be a happy ending in our future.
But most of all I thought I gotta get back to Vancouver to marry a woman. ;)
My family loves her, she is the eldest so everyone listens to her. She is very loving and giving.” He smiled with joy after the comment. I gave a little smirk.
“How about you? Why were you in India? Getting married?” Insert awkward laugh from me.
Then, and I don’t know why, I lied.
I told him that I actually was going to move to India for work, but that I am in love with a woman in Vancouver and that I am going back to ask her to marry me. A romantic lie yes, however what he told me next was a little crazy.
“Sounds familiar,” he said.
“Oh really? You know someone?”
“Me,” he said.
Honestly, I was not prepared for that answer. He told me that many years ago he went chasing after a young lady in Vancouver. She was white. He told me that after he finished school his family thought it best for him to come to Canada because of the better opportunity at the time.
“It was the ‘70s, so basically the thinking was I would make more money and help the rest of the family,” he told me -- which is a very common story of that time.
So he came to Canada to become a pharmacist and that’s where they met.
“Her name was Michelle, Michelle LeClair.” He went on: “Her family was originally from Quebec, but her parents moved to Calgary.” Her father worked in oil.
They met during school orientation. “She thought my accent was funny; I told her it was attractive,” he joked.
Slowly and secretly they started to see each other and fell in love. “Like all young people do,” he grinned. Trust me this guy was like an old Indian Paul Newman or how I would envision an old Indian Paul Newman to be.
They dated for almost two years and then midway through university she switched schools and moved to Vancouver -- something about UBC being better for her career.
Of course, he was heartbroken.
Of course, I was sitting next to this man thinking about how my lie got him telling me his love story, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was supposed to hear it.
“That summer I felt like I was in one of those Bollywood love stories, very sad, and listening to sad Bollywood songs,” he said.
“What did you do?” I asked, like a five-year-old.
“I jumped on a bus and went to Vancouver!”
The scene started to form in my head. I could see this handsome Indian man sitting on a bus with a flannel shirt and bell bottoms while Love Somebody by the Bee Gees played in the background.
“I went to the UBC and started looking for her. I had not seen her in months so I was very excited! Finally I see her in the cafeteria.”
My heart was screaming about this romantic movie moment.
Then he said: “I go to her and she is surprised to see me but very happy, and in that moment I don’t know what came over me, but I ask her to marry me.”
“Young love can make us crazy!” he added. I was sitting at the edge of my seat waiting for him to finish.
“We walked outside and talked and she said that we couldn’t get married because we are from different cultures and her parents would never accept me and that it was best if I go back to Calgary.”
Crushed.
Here I was starting to think that his wife in India is a woman named Michelle. That two people could look past what makes them different and saw how similar they were. That they fell in love and that’s all that mattered.
But no. He jumped back on a bus the next day and came back to Calgary, heartbroken. He told me he finished school, went back to India, got married to his wife Kiran, had kids, and lives a very wonderful life.
“So I hope she says yes to you,” he joked, while I laughed awkwardly, feeling bad that I lied and feeling bad that there was no happy ending.
“So tell me her na—“
“That’s such a sad story!”
Yes he did ask her name, and yes I did talk over him.
“Not entirely,” he said, “I wouldn’t have met my wife if she would have said yes.”
I gave him a half-hearted smile and after a few silent moments he told me what I think is the best part of the story.
“About two years ago, I went to a wedding in Vancouver. A friend’s son was getting married to a white girl... And guess who her mother was?”
“Michelle?” I sounded like a teenage girl.
He nodded yes and my heart exploded. He told me that he went up to her, spoke to her and asked her about life. She said that she finished school and became a teacher, met a very good man and had three kids; her daughter who was getting married was the middle child. After a little more banter he finally asked her: “How did you let her daughter marry an Indian?”
She told him that one day there was a knock at her door, and when she opened the door she saw a young Indian man standing there.
“But all I could see was you,” she told him.
The boy had come to ask for her daughter’s hand in marriage.
“She told me that she never met him before because her daughter thought her husband and her would not approve, and her daughter ended the relationship months before. She believed it wouldn’t work because they have different backgrounds.”
He went on: “She said that when he asked her all she could say was yes, because she wanted her daughter to be happy with whomever she chose to be with.”
He was very happy to hear that and he told me that as she was about to leave, she turned to him and told him that although her husband was a wonderful man, he was too. He grinned at me and my heart went wild!
After a few pleasantries Sagar left to catch his flight.
I sat there thinking about what I just heard. Ideas like the laws of Karma and lessons we must learn kept going through my head. I thought that Sagar loved Michelle, but their love story was a lesson for Michelle, who thought that they couldn’t work; that you have to try and give your all in love, because our failures in love can be our or someone else’s lesson; that all stories of love, no matter what ending they may seem to have, will give birth to other love stories, and because of that there will always be a happy ending in our future.
But most of all I thought I gotta get back to Vancouver to marry a woman. ;)
Friday, July 5, 2013
One Poem of India
Strait out of India with a soul on fire.
prosperity blooming like a lotus flower.
From meditation to yoga with a new definitions of God.
Found heaven in my skin no more feeling odd.
A new Deva emerges, does that sound blasphemous?
Believing in ones self should not come with a ceiling built over it
If me gives birth to we, and we teaches me.
Then like a eternal circle at all ages we are pupils.
No longer will I live in one way of intellgience.
The Galaxy inside me has had it's own big bang.
No Theory is needed I understand theI am.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
I gotta Quote for yeah!
When you put up a Quote do you actually read it?
Do you let the words resonate in your heart?
Or do you read it because it sounds good?
Does anyone every notice that quotes contradict each other?
You will read ones about Unconditional Love and the next day you will read one about how if someone doesn't treat you right then they don't deserve you.
It makes sense to me. Words that speak to you are words to live by.
But are you living by them?
Did you wake up today and love unconditional?
Did you look in the mirror and tell yourself I am someone important?
Did you finally and I mean FINALLY tell someone what you always wanted to say, because if you never saw them again at least they would know how you feel about them.
After all
You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough (May West)
I don't dislike Quotes, I love words, but only if I really need to say them, use them.
Words like actions need a reason.
So when you put up your next Facebook/Twitter quote or write it down on your vision board/Journal/wall etc. ( I do all of this)
Maybe ask yourself
When I am in bliss will these words come to mind?
IF I drink from sorrow will these lines be the food to my soul?
When I look upon a loved one does "IT" click?
I could end with a Quote but I would be happier if you read what I wrote
And you can Quote me on that. :)
Do you let the words resonate in your heart?
Or do you read it because it sounds good?
Does anyone every notice that quotes contradict each other?
You will read ones about Unconditional Love and the next day you will read one about how if someone doesn't treat you right then they don't deserve you.
It makes sense to me. Words that speak to you are words to live by.
But are you living by them?
Did you wake up today and love unconditional?
Did you look in the mirror and tell yourself I am someone important?
Did you finally and I mean FINALLY tell someone what you always wanted to say, because if you never saw them again at least they would know how you feel about them.
After all
You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough (May West)
I don't dislike Quotes, I love words, but only if I really need to say them, use them.
Words like actions need a reason.
So when you put up your next Facebook/Twitter quote or write it down on your vision board/Journal/wall etc. ( I do all of this)
Maybe ask yourself
When I am in bliss will these words come to mind?
IF I drink from sorrow will these lines be the food to my soul?
When I look upon a loved one does "IT" click?
I could end with a Quote but I would be happier if you read what I wrote
And you can Quote me on that. :)
Friday, January 4, 2013
Words have Power.
Everything all at once.
I am already dead and dancing as a three year old.
I still sing in my room in the basement and live on a sun soaked beach in solitude.
She is telling me it won't work.
"Munish we will end up together."
My one true love married another. My parents keep me safe from harm, now they tell me there is something wrong in my head.
My brother won't talk to me. My infant sister grasps my finger for the first time.
Alone at a bus stop.
Surrounded by Friends. Kids laughing with me.
Friends shedding tears. Living in Routine.
I 'm 60 roaming Eastern streets. I m Thirty and with my Lover
"Daddy I wanna come with you."
She ran away from me again.
All I know is that there is no End.
Speeches on the street, on a Podium, live on T.V.
Alone asking why you didn't believe in me.
When I am gone you will cry for me
Five years old and I want my mommy.
I fought my Dad
My friends Don't understand.
She walks next to me Lovingly holding my hand.
Waking in the middle of the night kissing her forehead
My brother does not love me he wishes me dead.
They yell at me that I was never there.
My brother looking me in the eye telling me I make the world care.
Past. Present. Futures.
Love.
I am already dead and dancing as a three year old.
I still sing in my room in the basement and live on a sun soaked beach in solitude.
She is telling me it won't work.
"Munish we will end up together."
My one true love married another. My parents keep me safe from harm, now they tell me there is something wrong in my head.
My brother won't talk to me. My infant sister grasps my finger for the first time.
Alone at a bus stop.
Surrounded by Friends. Kids laughing with me.
Friends shedding tears. Living in Routine.
I 'm 60 roaming Eastern streets. I m Thirty and with my Lover
"Daddy I wanna come with you."
She ran away from me again.
All I know is that there is no End.
Speeches on the street, on a Podium, live on T.V.
Alone asking why you didn't believe in me.
When I am gone you will cry for me
Five years old and I want my mommy.
I fought my Dad
My friends Don't understand.
She walks next to me Lovingly holding my hand.
Waking in the middle of the night kissing her forehead
My brother does not love me he wishes me dead.
They yell at me that I was never there.
My brother looking me in the eye telling me I make the world care.
Past. Present. Futures.
Love.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Moments form a book never Published part 2
I am lost in space...
Ok maybe I am not.
I am in fact exactly where I need to be drifting in space a soon to be extinguish star. When I was a human I never thought that even a star would have consciousness, then again as a human I thought animals and plants where inferior to me.
My shine is slowly fading, particles that once made up me are now drifting into space.
Pieces of me fall into other stars, suns, planets..galaxies .................cosmos.
Well I forget again? Well again at the last moment of physical life will everything comeback to me? Living it seems in any form becomes so important to any being.
I am a falling God. A blue being. In some solar systems I am worshipped as a God, in others I am nothing, but my energy belongs to every form, particles or molecule that I have come into contact with. For in these last moments I understand that I am the all.
Soon I will slip into the next unknown more enlightened that I was before.
A man is standing in a ocean, the sun shining brightly down upon him and angel comes running splashing next to him...it seems like eons ago.
I have burned so bright for millions of years, but time is no longer linear.
I live in die and the same time. Letting go and living in the moment that is what becomes of us all. I can feel the shift my existence here slowly ends on to new beginnings
" Daddy I want know about that star?"
" My lovely we will learn as many as we can, in fact we will start with the most important one. You."
"Hehe, you're silly Daddy."
Ok maybe I am not.
I am in fact exactly where I need to be drifting in space a soon to be extinguish star. When I was a human I never thought that even a star would have consciousness, then again as a human I thought animals and plants where inferior to me.
My shine is slowly fading, particles that once made up me are now drifting into space.
Pieces of me fall into other stars, suns, planets..galaxies .................cosmos.
Well I forget again? Well again at the last moment of physical life will everything comeback to me? Living it seems in any form becomes so important to any being.
I am a falling God. A blue being. In some solar systems I am worshipped as a God, in others I am nothing, but my energy belongs to every form, particles or molecule that I have come into contact with. For in these last moments I understand that I am the all.
Soon I will slip into the next unknown more enlightened that I was before.
A man is standing in a ocean, the sun shining brightly down upon him and angel comes running splashing next to him...it seems like eons ago.
I have burned so bright for millions of years, but time is no longer linear.
I live in die and the same time. Letting go and living in the moment that is what becomes of us all. I can feel the shift my existence here slowly ends on to new beginnings
" Daddy I want know about that star?"
" My lovely we will learn as many as we can, in fact we will start with the most important one. You."
"Hehe, you're silly Daddy."
Friday, November 2, 2012
Moments from a Books never Published
I hadn't seen her for years.
She was still....a Goddess.
When you are first trying to get over someone. You hope that the next time you seen them they will look horrible or be unhappy. It Selfish I know, even sad, but you let those thoughts manifest in your head. Still, there she was across from me, glowing as if a spotlight followed her around. In a few moments she would see me, in a few moment I would know if she still.. Nevermind.
"The Eye is the gateway to our soul." That is what crossed my mind and also is it eye? or Eyes? I don't know. All I knew was that the moment our eyes meet I'll know.
I thought about pretending not to see her, but I love her. I told her years ago that my eyes are always searching for her.
How the hell could I look away now?
It doesn't matter, there is no way she could be single. I bet the man beside her is her husband or Companion. They look great together, I bet they have beautiful babies.
Does she have kids?
When we were together, I use to dream about a cute little chubby boy with jet black hair, and her eyes.
Shut up and get this over with.
Everything gets brighter. I am living IN time.
Either this is a magic moment, or am going to faint. She notices me. All of a sudden it's half a decade ago, and I am opening up a door about to meet a girl coming from Yoga class. She's here to pick up a book from my New Age roomie about becoming a Vegan.
I feel like I am staring.
Cause I am
But so is she.
Before anyone says a word we are in love again.
Did we even stop?
If I where to say this to her she would call it corny, but it's what she loves about me.
I am trying to Vocalize a word that sounds like a greeting, but before I get a chance to put my foot in my mouth she says, "Hi."
This time I hope there wont be a Goodbye.
She was still....a Goddess.
When you are first trying to get over someone. You hope that the next time you seen them they will look horrible or be unhappy. It Selfish I know, even sad, but you let those thoughts manifest in your head. Still, there she was across from me, glowing as if a spotlight followed her around. In a few moments she would see me, in a few moment I would know if she still.. Nevermind.
"The Eye is the gateway to our soul." That is what crossed my mind and also is it eye? or Eyes? I don't know. All I knew was that the moment our eyes meet I'll know.
I thought about pretending not to see her, but I love her. I told her years ago that my eyes are always searching for her.
How the hell could I look away now?
It doesn't matter, there is no way she could be single. I bet the man beside her is her husband or Companion. They look great together, I bet they have beautiful babies.
Does she have kids?
When we were together, I use to dream about a cute little chubby boy with jet black hair, and her eyes.
Shut up and get this over with.
Everything gets brighter. I am living IN time.
Either this is a magic moment, or am going to faint. She notices me. All of a sudden it's half a decade ago, and I am opening up a door about to meet a girl coming from Yoga class. She's here to pick up a book from my New Age roomie about becoming a Vegan.
I feel like I am staring.
Cause I am
But so is she.
Before anyone says a word we are in love again.
Did we even stop?
If I where to say this to her she would call it corny, but it's what she loves about me.
I am trying to Vocalize a word that sounds like a greeting, but before I get a chance to put my foot in my mouth she says, "Hi."
This time I hope there wont be a Goodbye.
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