petit-prince

I love Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and I love this image and I especially resonate to these lines… You have to know what loneliness is to really feel these words….

Today is rather weird… The first thing I did today was, I get into the elevator with the CEO of my company and I happily introduced myself and giggled with him as we went up to our offices and all the while at the back of my head I was thinking, “I was 3 mins late for work and I’m happily chatting with the Pres” and I want to put it on the record that it wasn’t my fault, as the bloody train was late. For whatever reason, my trains are running late since two weeks…

I saw my friend at the gym, and I haven’t seen her in like three weeks or so and she told me that she had lost a baby (8 weeks) and even though she keeps saying it is good that she lost it as they are financially not able to, I can see the pain lurking in corner of her eyes and it was a kind of blah look and while she is right about her situation, I think it is painful to lose a child no matter how tiny it is and I felt her pain as I lost a baby too and no matter what or how long ago it is, the memory still stays fresh.

I gorged myself on lemon bars; I often want to call them Turkish delight, you know C.S. Lewis’ the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe… I still have my bundle of those books…  At work, I convinced my coworker to get me some lemon bars from reading terminal and I have been craving to eat some for a while now and yesterday, I was telling the boy I like how much I love lemon bars… and this whole infatuation of mine with lemon bars took on an avatar and so, I told my friend to get me some….

also confession: i so desperately want to ask this object of my affection, the boy I like, to go have dinner with me… so we can giggle more and make fun of each other more… it would be awesome I think, but I am not sure what God would say. I know God likes us to be happy as I feel that he is as unhappy as I am. Maybe it’s my wish. Anyway, I know God always makes me know when I am doing something wrong and Aaaaarghhhhhh.

To a certain degree, the things I write here have become impersonal or more like journal entries. I don’t name people so you, the reader, won’t bond with these characters… I have exchanged them to their characteristics and to the ideas of them. Names and human characteristics have been exchanged for the space between people, for how I personally am moved by skin, by language, by touch — by everything that falls around love, that isn’t directly the object of my affections. I like it this way because then while sharing my experiences I still have that uncrossable bridge between me and you… With my friends I talk explicitly, or as a matter of factly; as after all, I am a scientist. I down play the workings of my heart with everyone. But you, the blog readers are ok as you are anonymous.. To the comfort of the anonymous I’ll write of everything that moves me but won’t go into details about things that are dangerous to put into words. That’s how I’ve always been, tho. I keep myself closed and I distance myself with other human beings. Call it defense mechanism or just being arrogant; Apart from the boys who don’t exist anymore, there will never be another person who will hold me up against the light and see every facet of shanthi, every color and every hue that I can become. When these boys died, they emptied me of my essence.

I often think of us as “The Little Prince” (Le Petit Prince) and that there are so many little island worlds we all belong to respectively. We hold so many planets in us and we won’t let any other human beings to land on it or let alone visit. And that’s so lonely a feeling.

What I would like is to find one human who can soothe the ache of wanting to discuss every molecule of my life. I want to be able to touch someone’s arm or shoulder or knee and understand the fear that consumed them in their childhood, the happiness of their freedom, the way they fell headfirst into love for the first time. I love stories.. and I want to know how each of us accumulate all these worlds, all these stories I wanted to live and have lived and the dreams…. All the dreams, I had carefully weaved…

I think what I desire the most is understanding, that falls deeper than words into a space between two humans that can’t be touched by language. The boy I like, talked about this the other day how someone he knew talked about how we communicate with each other…. I am not much for communicating my heart matters…what I do is I rip out my heart and use it as a pen and scribble myself out into words…

How can I explain to someone the sound of an ocean beneath a moonlight beam… you need my heart for that. I suppose I’m yearning; nay I’m coveting… There are certain people who are so in tune with the subtle nuances of my being. There are certain people who I can tell are hurting just by how they hold their hands on their lap or press their lips. But still, there’s always something missing. I may just be looking for something completely selfish. I may just be looking for the basic and primal human relationship. It’s just lonely, I think. I’m just lonely, I think.

Actually I am lonely.

But the thing is this ! Still, still and still I’m hopeful.

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