Love. Love. Absoulte Love.

I have always wondered about the power of love. The enigma, the strength and every other form of breathing passion it beholds. It can basically soar you so high that you feel on top of the world or drive you so down, that you will be able to see right up your ass and feel that kind of pain. Oh, love. Stop daunting us, you eternal mystery.  

It is the kind of emotion- – (or wait? With the power it holds I wouldn’t just call it an “emotion”. )

It is the kind of affection, appreciation, exhilaration and devastation that will conquer it all.

Your exhausted friends (case in point- S and N) will travel in the heat, dust and summer with you, for you and helping you shop, decorate and  bring to life something beautiful for someone they have never really known but someone who means something to you. Tear-jerking if you ask me.

Their love came across with their effort. And oh, I am so grateful. Love you, guys. Love. Love. Absolute love.

                                                                          ***

Where do I even begin about you?  You and I are a deadly combination, baby.

I will go out of my way to places you never thought I would. Anything to make you smile—because “you have a smile that could light up this entire town”.  Here on the web world- I love you, Mr.

“Some love stories have blood on them.”

Basically, when I saw her drop to her knees and let out the coldest moan I have ever heard- I knew that this was the face of a victim. A victim of cruelty. Cruelty that has sufficed through our minds, hearts and blood vessels, splattering on to the face of humanity. That is what I would call spitting on my fate.

Kurbaan follows a couple on a journey of love and destruction. It doesn’t seem odd to use the two terms together and it is definitely not the first time we categorize them in the same box of jewels. But love and destruction come alive in the deepest and most dramatic manner in this movie and take my word for it- you may be realized of the most tragic flaw that that exists amongst us humans- misunderstanding.

People and places get crushed in the midst of misunderstanding. There are no voices of reason but only screams of terror. No vibrations of love, only the ground shaking with disbelief. When there is fear, there is no freedom. When there is terrorism in comparison to love. All our love stories will someday, somehow and always have blood on them.

The American’s will never truly understand the Muslim’s. The Muslim’s will never truly read the American’s right and in this game of misunderstanding, lives of people- you and me will be meshed together and humanity will watch the darkest cloud rain over its head and I am sure that this is the rain of fire. Fireworks in the sky, my baby kiss me goodbye.

Authors personal note:  

When I Google-d ‘Kurbaan’ the movie, whatever that came across was a shameful 0.08 seconds of Google-ing. “Kareena Kapoor topless”, “Latest photos of Saif Ali Khan and Kareena Kapoor”. Have we missed the bus?  

DEFINETLY! Movie of the year. It tries to capture love in the most contradicting of places- terroristic hate. You have to watch it. You should probably want to watch it.

Don’t leave it being underrated- go buy that ticket. I know you want to.

Breaking up with the universe.

Sometimes writers spend hours, months and years dreaming, dreading and doodling over what is that they really want to write about. In those times they believe that there are many other fabulous and completely self assured writers nicking away credit. So, truely correct.

 Also during those times there are appropriate assumptions about how we have completely lost that divine relationship with the universe that transmits super writer powers. Hello, Universe? Are you breaking up with me?

This is a writer’s block. Commonly known as I-am-fucked and nothing in my mind or life is clever enough to make you want to throw your bra at me. Sigh.

Creep.

Can you bring back the hour of the night?

Weight is dragged down the allies and in pain it shrieks away.

But he smacks the victim with a razorblade- commanding it to be quiet.

Swaying in the cries of the casualty, he is dancing in the glory of his prey.

 His right hand never travels away from the soar but the left is motioning in the air.

What a beautiful dancer.

 Take note of the whispers of the wind and on whose beats he discos without care.

I couldn’t think of anything else.

So, when you look out the window and see nothing but the moon staring back,

Remember, recollect and realize it’s the memorabilia of our love that shall last.

 

And when the rain trickles down your window pane- subduing you in a melody so blue

Remember, recollect and realize- I am somewhere down the road negotiating with the clouds to surrender and sunlight make you shine- breeze all new.

 

I shall demand the stars to twinkle,

I shall sway the trees to laugh.

I shall hold your bleeding heart close and you can make mine go beating static-rapid-fast.

My, beloved- my daily-fix: I shall make our love last.   

War.

Take my over coat, dear girl and embrace- embrace the conclusion.

The war isn’t outside but inside my heart.

It’s breaking my heart.

Oh. It’s breaking my heart.

 

For I wish, I had a beautiful explanation: for I wish we could be the lucky ones.

Turn to the angel.  Pray.

They are taking me away- turning me into the glistening night.

 

She seeks me and she has them all seduced- they all fight.

They all flow: ignorant rivers of blood.

What do they desire? A want so supreme that has crushed the lovers between: the soldier and his strength.

Where is the glory, now?

 

There is something about the way I am leaving- there might be no music to dance to.

The way there is no light to guide me.

There might not anything to look forward to.

No sounds, no scent, no sight, no touch- nothingness.

 

See shame like a thousand deaths- shine like a million myths- smile.

Death is coming: she is calling me.

I am afraid. I am afraid for you.

Should we call it just another day?

Should we call it just another day?

I love them beautifully broken boys with mystery in their eyes: who look away when the sun shines and find comfort when the moon ditties- in rhyme.

Step, step they think before they leap or they don’t indulge at all- for them it is the consequence that don’t matter- the interest is merely in the pain involved.

Oh, my beautifully broken boy why tempt me much? Reverse, forward, presses play and then deny me touch?

Mind, Body and Soul.

On a cold winter evening, with a scene of the mountains and the twinkling sky behind us- we heed of the roaring trains- waiting to collide. And when they do: the sky roars, the earth trembles and the fire springs- bow down and take notice: love has arrived. This is the feeling. 

The feeling is of yearning. I want to bed a complete stranger, I want to fall in love with a complete stranger and for me he can be eccentric and for him I can be charming. Merry, merry- won’t it be?

 

Swinging in his thoughts, I shall go high and low. He will go high and low.

I will dance for him. Anything-Everything: Like the wind, the blowing tender wind- I shall sway my body to polite, coy music or for when he feels bad- I shall be the vicious storm- demanding, seducing and sweeping him off his feet. 

Mind, Body and Soul- lets collide.

 

Oh, but what about the times. Have you not heard?

Animal eat Animal- Flesh and Bones. 

With profound beauty, with profound knowledge, with profound desire we come together like two planes soaring in the sky. And when they collide- it’s the most powerful, beautiful and rapid destruction. Ah, trashed, beaten, broken we will fall out of the sky like fireworks. Our lovely ashes will fade away with the wind and of course, the memories will drown in the oceans, burying themselves deep.  

 

We shall laugh with each other, at each other. We shall laugh together and then it will become faint- apart. 

Mind, Body and Soul- wrecked.

~Ruku Taneja (ChangeRed.)

 

 

                                                                                                                                           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For, hello, I am consumed with desire.

You are beautiful and the kind that cannot be defined.

You shine brighter than the solar star and are deeper defined than the moonlight.

For you are everything I am not.

 

You are exuberant in your passions and lethargic in your sorrow.

Strangled in your thoughts and plunging in your heart- I want to be.

I want to lay- I want to rest- I want to play.

Oh, my sun-kissed loveliness.

Sing to me.

~Ruku Taneja (ChangeRed.)

 

Addicted.

For if you ever have the time and you yearn to redefine. You know where to find me: Inside your heart, in the hollows of your memory and flowing through your veins.

You be the addict, I will be the shame. Your cocaine. 

~Ruku Taneja (ChangeRed.)