Watching you sleep

Watching you sleep

Here sleeps a girl with a head full of magical dreams, a heart full of wonder and hands that will shape the world

– Sleeping Beauty

Damn, you are so beautiful. My angel, my beautiful angel. Heaven only knows how many a hours I have spent beholding your tender face, kissing you in your slender slumber, caressing you with every gaze. I have never seen anything, natural nor divine that sis but half as beautiful as my lovely dear. You are but a little piece of heaven god left with me.

For those among you, who by superiority of your intentions are well on your way to let the authorities know that a certain creepy stalker is on the loose. Stop! I pray. I ain’t no pervert nor a creep (that may be up for debate) . I am but one such rare breed of a guy who is so in love in with his wife that watching her fall asleep in you arms is the one thing he looks forward to most everyday, One who just cant help buy gaze at her face and melt as snow at when the slightest hint of a smile dawns on her face.

Time is a strange thing, when you are in love. One could hardly believe how it flies and how it morphs around you. I can but hardly believe that it has been over 7 years since when I first met her, 6 since I first kissed her and eternities since I started loving her and of course 1 since we married. I have known her forever, from lifetimes before and will for lifetimes hence. Even now, every single day I feel as if it was just yesterday that we first met.

Those moments have become so magnificently romanticised, like the balcony in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet our places are no more just blips on the maps but stuffs of lore and serenades. Our stories have been told so many times that they are are now much myth and some essential fact.

I don’t want to write another ode to my beau, have I not written enough of that already. But then for what avail is this piece written, but for the being another ode to she; my love, my muse.

Her

 

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Have I told you about March?



What is March to me is a far better question than who is March? Do I know march and how do I know march are even better questions and quite frankly I can’t answer the later duo, simply because I do not know the answers to them. March is an enigma to me, a bewildering and mind blowing puzzle. The truth is that she never existed and if she did her existence was more ethereal that the mirage in the mid-day sun. She exists and she doesn’t at the same time, She is and she is not at the same time, yet she persists like a ghost upon my memory, entangling me into the abysmal oblivion of not knowing who she is and why she came into my life and whether she came into my life at all or is it all nothing but the delusions of a deranged mind?


Any story or any sentence about March must be abstract and shall only be abstract not because I intent to protect the identity of an otherwise domineering public presence from stigma but because she is as elusive to me as she is to you by these abstract words. Her existence for me is just as abstract and doubtful. There are times I scrutinize my sanity for what had happened that fateful day when destiny played the tune of fate going rogue.


I saw her, her eyes pierced into mine like the splinters from a shattered shell. Hungry for vengeance they struck me deep and painfully in the depths of my tattered heart. I cried in unheard agony when the heavens itself must have turned deaf that day. Then she smiled at me her smile spreading inside my body like death upon a famished being and bestowing me with a warmness of the ultimate awareness. Alas disappointment again waits for me, the most peaceful of seconds ceased to exist soon enough as all good things. She came and she went in a fragment of time that was far too small that between dream and reality the lines began to blur.


The truth is that I do not know whether I had lived through March or not, I do not know whether March is an enigma or a truth like the lives under the sun. But what march was and what I know March to be, is that march is the beacon of light from a domain unknown that signaled to me that all is not lost and life is yet to exist. March showed me in the twilight between life and death, between despair and hope, between dream and reality that my destiny is yet to be written and my gardens of love are yet to see the spring.


More From this Series : My Long Love Story
January
February Part I
February Part II

The Many Dreams of You and Me

Every single night its in your dreams that I cherish, in the long voyages that we take through uncharted waters, in the beautiful strolls through gardens and boulevards from very pricey magazine pages. The colours and the emotions that we share and cherish are truly remarkable. Though I expect nothing less from a beautiful dream, you’re here presence makes it unimaginable magnificent. Dreams that I have are all so wonderful so are the ones I believe you have, but the ones we share like our heart and our soul are sure to be unworldly.
Its been a couple of years since I met her, I still remember it be on a very ordinary day in a very ordinary chemistry lab, She came and stood next to me , she turned and she gave a smile that told me that we are meant to be. But the blind idiot I was made sure that nothing happened for the many days to come. It was certainly not the first time we have seen. Studying in same class seeing would not have been a problem. As days went on and on, our hearts grew closer and closer, the cold winters made us come close in search of warmth and the sizzling showers in envy, the scorching summer in search of shades and finally the spring in search of love. 
I do know that every one tells it, but I promise you this that what I tell is the truth and nothing but the truth. I do believe with all my heart that I knew her way before the first time I  laid eyes on her petite being. I assure you I have enjoyed the taste of her delicate throbbing lips way before in generations unknown to me. Her being is not strange, not any stranger than that of myself. May be this is what they call ‘LOVE’, may be this is how being in love is, If it is so and this is what I get from being in love and being loved, then I require the warmth of no stranger bosom than that of beloved one.
When she walked into my life at the time of great crisis, A time when I have had lost faith in all the worlds love, I trusted no one not even god for that matter, sinking into the depths of despair, alas! those were the dark days. Her touch was the guiding light that led me ashore, when romantic voyages after voyages failed and I was no better than a sinking soul. I am no great lover but at the moments I despise myself I keep telling my wounded soul, its not all that wounded. But much latter only I realised that had I not made those mistakes I would never have been able to see the right things, when it appeared before me. Had I not seen the darkness and experienced the piercing thrones I would never have realised it when I saw the rose bloom before my very eyes. Love does happen but so is it a search, it’s a special journey like none other, it will show you what that is that rightfully belongs to you and you rightfully belong to.
I am no great lover and mess up a little a lot of times, but I have done no such thing that by which I had betrayed her. It weights down my neck a duty to remain faithful. I know that a girl like her deserves much more and what I have is too pure to be in such dirty hands. But I see no reason to let go, call it lust call it selfishness, for she is mine and I indent to keep it that way for eternities to come. I do wait for the days that are ours to live, and the dreams that we share are ours to realise.
          A tribute to my other half.
 ” You have taught me love and how to love, in your hands i blossomed and in your love I grew and in you arms I wish to die”

The Story of a Kiss




” The day was dry, moments wary ,
and then there was the kiss.
The sun shone and clouds gone,
and there was the Spring
Butterflies had come, birds sang
and then there was the KISS. “




This is the story of my very first kiss, of how our lips wrote a new story. The very first of our secrets was born that day, when my lips touched the soft skin of her cheek and the next was born when hers made the slightest impression upon my temple. To lock your lips in a frantic desperate kiss may be exciting, but this was exquisite. The kiss was classy, so was her smile, the way her eyes lit up and the faint lines on her face popped up adding the lightest rosy tinge to her pale face. She was beautiful as ever then.



The details are the part of a very precious memory, something that will be remembered no matter how life turns out to be. Those were moments of decision, the moment when you decide is it the one you will live with. I have heard from somewhere that when it comes to love whether you are going to go the length no matter how long it turns out to be is the true test of your love. Kissing is sure the way to find that out, Kissing is not just about passion and tongues getting twisted in a cannibalistic macabre, but it is the like the dew drops settling upon the rose petals even without waking up the little flower.



I do miss the days of these prince princess kisses !



The thing that most specifically appeal striking to me about my first kiss is that it were at a time when we were still more of friends and less of lovers. May be cupid saw his chance then and moved in, as i discovered the most beautiful girl in the world as she cuddled by me. These kisses were more than just kisses, they were exchanges, excahnges of soul and feelings and some mystical bond was strengthening slowly in the deapths of our hearts. We were getting bounded by a bond stronger than anyother, yet so invisible. Thus the kiss had grown and had united us in one



As I sit now and write about it, I can see the events of that wonderful day unfold before my eyes, like a movie being played back. I can savour the scent in the air and the ambience that were set that day. The details sit at the cosiest part of my heast to write about, but one thing can be told. The kiss was magical, too good to be true. The smile that broke after that, striking a curve through her delicate lips and the way her eyes lit up and wetted those were the things for the most precious of my memories. I still remember her face that day like it was just moments ago. Those were time when moments stopped and universe howered. 




True love may meet but once and to have it is one thing but to recognize it when it is right there, in front of you is another. They call it star crossed and we call is ‘kismet’. Love is always adorable how it pans out affects anything and everything around you. you see flowers and butterflies you have never seen before, its not that they were not there but you were too narrow to notice. Love widens you up and a kiss can tell you whether you are in the love you want to be in.




Ever since my first kiss and the love of my life ( not the first one ) I have had the most bedazzled life ever. Yes, Mine is still a short time on earth but i belive life is measured not in years but by the life lived. Belive me when I say my last year with her was the best I ever had and it still looks to get better only. One year, It just has been one year but the spark is not gone and it feels like its been ages since in love. Wow! wonderful was what that kiss did to me.



This is the story of my very first kiss and it is not going to end anytime soon. As new stories are wriiten and new character are born I should tell you this. Keep your eyes open wide and heart wider, you never know when your star croosed other choses to pay you a a visit.