Past, it's time to say goodbye

Past, in memories you last,

long, like humming an old song.

You only last,

where you have been cast.

You are so heavy,

and much taxes you levy.

You occupy space,

making the rest scarce.

Past, you cannot stay,

how many times will you and I play.

It's time for you to go,

life is paused, begging to move on.

You were a friend,

yet nothing you can alter or mend.

The door is held open for you,

it's time for you to go through.

Past, this is goodbye,

my wings are open, waiting to fly.

This is our last kiss,

even though treasured, yet one I will not miss.

You are now free,

pause, breathe and forever release me. 

I sense your presence gone,

with a tear and a smile, I welcome dawn.

I Am

I am not the action but the thought,
I am not the flower but the fragrance,
I am not the tear but the pain,
I am not the smile but the joy.


I am not the touch but the passion,
I am not the food but the hunger,
I am not the success but the potential,
I am not the failure but the fatigue.


I am spirit in journey,
I am unmeasurable in measurable,
I am endless in less,
I am the universe in verse.

Little girl without a plan

Little girl without a plan,
for all things she can.

As a blessing she was born,
not a taboo, curse, victim or pawn.

Equal to a man they say,
let's not compete, is her prayer.

In the garden she plays,
making the most of everyday.

Complimenting the other is life,
wonder why we grow up to strife.

Wealth and fortune we amass,
letting the small things slip and pass.

House, car and things we own,
each day to greed we are prone.

Where has the little girl gone,
between yesterday and tomorrow she is torn.

First for love she left greed,
now greed grows like a seed.

Joy of childhood was  clear and spoken,
today things that matter are best unspoken.

The girl without a plan just ran,
without cares of making a plan.

Today she runs in her mind,
here and there, taking sides.

What freedom it used to be,
stretch, yawn and free.

Paint any dream or dance along,
write or simply sing a song.

Without a plan she learnt to live,
today much is against her will.

I seek to meet this girl again,
beautiful she is, yet plain.

As years gone by, she hides inside,
every time life tossed her, side to side.

The little girl will always stay,
open the door, let her out to play.

In the garden free again,
nature alone releases the pain.

Refresh and revived she will be,
to write a new chapter for all to see.

Let's go visit her someday soon,
hopefully catch her chasing the moon.

Lover's stare

I am warning you,
don't  lock eyes you two,
for every time you stare,
desire's intent is to pair.

The eyes are the cause,
for silent sighs and pause,
time prolongs its stay,
each time lovers stare.

This could be a chance,
or simply a fleeting glance,
of passions to be written,
or a drifting moment of two people smitten.

The lovers stare brings together,
but people may choose another,
depends on what you allow it to be,
time spent together or simply lets just see.

Ideas

Ideas are brewed before actions are set,
like every dawn is conceived at sunset.

They fills the head,
thoughts are spread out on the bed.

Soulful ejaculation,
rushing forward without thought or reaction.

They roam in the veins,
without value, merit or gain.

They are free in space,
yet they define their own pace.

Ideas lead to thought,
when pursued or sought.

Thoughts define direction,
here is the start of action.

Action can always be caught,
it depends on the plot.

Only ideas are born free,
for every thought and action we pay a fee.

The journey from sunset to dawn,
is like going from conception to born.

Woman

Silly I can be,
but that does not define me.

Smile I may,
but that does not mean I won't say.

Cry I can,
for loss, pain, struggle and man.

Want is in my thought,
since imagination cannot be caught.

Desire the wicked sire,
I choose to forgive lie and liar.

Ambition; hello crazy,
don't presume looks makes everything easy.

Attention, you mirror reflection,
every flower blossoms with affection.

Words for you I yearn,
I learn and discern.

Family is my soil,
for them I change, adapt and toil.

Love you are my mush,
I stay, I am in no rush.

Strength you are my shield,
behind you miracles I wield.

Many roles I play,
in each I choose to stay.

Deep like the sea,
in my eyes all things you can see.

Born from my own ashes,
at times from wet lashes.

Giggles and giving keeps me going,
in life I keep sowing.

Who am I,
what makes me, me.

I am a maker,
despite being a taker.

The path and the traveler,
the stone and the builder.

I am woman; simply she,
a part of mankind, that's me.

Joy

Joy is an emotion,
that creates visible commotion.

Fills and flows,
sorrow it overthrows.

Strength and force it has,
to subdue ocean, stone and all crass.

Selective about its choice,
deaf to the rebelling voice.

The heart leaps,
we smile even though we weep.

Mind seems free and brave,
heart again learns to crave.

Generous is its feel,
A gift; God's own seal.

The world seem small and clear,
the birth of dreams without fear.

Charged and geared we seem,
 we walk, glow and beam.

Oh Joy is so wonderful,
it makes life beautiful.

Teaching us to live in the now,
it is here and it's wow.

Healer it can be,
yesterday gone to the cleaner thankfully.

A new leaf is turned,
for those hurt and scorned.

Meant to be felt, not spoken,
God's gift, a happy token.

Once again hopes are grand and lit,
time has come to rise out of the pit.

Look around it's at the door,
for no one knows what God has in store.

Love

Love is not a fruit of common sense, 
nor is it punctual; arriving on time,
It's selection process is even worse, 
wrong man or woman, wrong place and time.

Like a lazy dance that continues even when the music stops, 
or without medication going long days, months and years,
without commercial reward people continue to stay,
like repeat offenders returning to the same cell, day after day.

Love is not for the wise, 
it's the friend of fools.
Yet both fool and wise are the same, 
making excuses tall and lame.

Love never claimed to bring joy, 
it's claim is that it wakes up those who are asleep. 
and for those who don't sleep, 
they will have plenty of time on hand for retrospection and to weep.

Love is not a student of order, 
it unsettles all plans made before.
It's a companion to addicts, 
making them twist, cry, whine and plead before the verdict.

Glorify it or condemn it,
Love won't visit if it's not your time, 
and won't leave before you have done your time, 
that's as simple as it gets.

You can't find Love if you are not selected, 
and Love won't leave you if you are, 
you pine and plead to feel those joys, 
or pine and plead for the pain to stop.

The wish for Love should be made with thought,
parental guidance should be sought, 
both of human and God in this case, 
before the lightening strikes in your personal space.

Nobody can outrun destiny,
we meet it in strange places and with unknown people,
a moment of Love even though tiny,
is a gift, a miracle.

No matter the risks the fruits are ripe,
taking one through karma, emotions, connection and all other type,
each time a new lesson, we grow,
for each of us reap what we sow.

Sticky rice

Food is a representation of who we are; smell, taste, texture, all tell some tale about the person.

For those whose passion is observing, those who love to watch the curse of the spectator is that they must look even when they want to look away.

The urge to look is so strong that it drags the spectator to moments, as if the person is sitting alone in front of the big screen watching people, things and situations happening around them.

Spectators learn from others, the fabulous many who cross us each day, people we may know but largely strangers, whose lives at sporadic moments we looks at or into.

Sticky rice is the vast majority of people, urban and rural mix, who are exposed to lasting damage, far worse than the effects of radiation. Our exposure is beneath our skin, under our breath and over our souls. Our exposure seems to have imprinted on us to be carried till we live. We are exposed to Data, Freedom of all sorts, Internet, Porn, Music and all things fast that keep the crazy alive in us. 

We are all pressure-cooked, which binds us to our starch. Some flavored with mustard or sesame oil for smoothness, others with fish oil and others in vegetable stock, but in the end, we are all sticky, pressure cooked, steaming hot and end up in a wooden box. The invention of the pressure cooker may have been good but each one of us has had to pay the price for our time in it, the whistles are only temporary release. The longer we are in the cooker, the stickier we get.

We are sticky rice, served with gravy, veggies or meat to make the meal taste better, but if you look at us, we don't taste all that bad just as we are, the add-ons are only frills for taste, variety and eating experience which keeps changing but sticky rice stays, day after day just as it is.

We are the modern age global citizens and the choice of eating mannerisms seals our fate; defining how sticky rice will be handled or how smooth the experience will be.

There are clearly three distinct eating mannerisms, above the others if one is to go by majority.

Eating with fingers

This is the basic category, which the Alpha people use. They are the people of skin; they fondle, caress, squash, dig, forcefully tear or separate and feel everything with all senses as they eat things with delight, relishing every morsel. They also suck and lick (fingers of course) while they enjoy each meal. These people are close to their basics and despite feeling the heat of steaming hot sticky rice on their skin, they stay focused on the meal and the delight it brings. 

Sticky rice is in for a roller coaster ride of lick, suck, squash and squeeze and stands exposed to the pressure of being taken and used for as long as there is an appetite. Alpha people are non-pretentious people they make no fuss about eating or anything else.

So if sticky rice wants to have a nostalgic moment of how it must have felt at the first Big Bang, it would be now and with the Alpha people. The finger people are thankfully not extinct, but to them a meal is just a meal, no more.

The Fork people

Often termed as the metal people, they come in different combinations; two pronged, three pronged and four pronged. Small F...ks and big ones too. They do what they know best: poke. Sometimes superficially or deeply but poke they must, as they prick and pick food. 

The heat of sticky rice does not disturb the fork people as metal can deal with it, no matter how hot the meal is served. When they can't balance on their own the fork takes the assistance of the spoon, which works well to spoon more and more till it's all polished off. And if there is any hindrance the knife is always there to cut bits and pieces. 

This entourage works best as a group, a threesome, so don't enter expecting to play with one, the other two are always laying close on the same table, on standby. 

The metal people are prim and meticulously, more focused on the elegant eating experience.  They don't spill, lick, suck or burp. They are dedicated to the art of f...king, poking and ripping without making a mess. They might dip sticky rice in various sauces for flavor, rain some pepper or paprika to add to taste, even give sticky rice a blow till it's cool but they will eventually poke and cut all the way till the end. Finally, they will dab the napkin to erase all lingering traces of sticky rice. Here sticky rice will only be a good meal, one among many.

Since the Fork people are clear about everything from start to go, choose to eat sticky rice with a four pronged f..k at least top of the line is a better than the small f…k.  Can't imagine the capability of the tiny two pronged fork; tiny to hold and barely can it fork the many tits and bits of the morsel. 

No matter the selection of fork, they still remain metal people; poking sticky rice or tongue, it's all the same. The elegant eating experience will always be more than the taste and flavor of sticky rice.

Chopsticks

Chopsticks come in two distinct sticks, both the same equal length, individual yet when held together picks bits of the sticky rice, without squashing or poking. 

No matter the big or small pieces the sticks together can pick them up just as effortlessly. The sticks hold, dip and carry sticky rice with ease. What a pleasure to be laid out for chopsticks irrelevant of being a Sushi Californian roll or simply a pile of sticky rice. They are not prickly nor do they tear at the rice and they always end each morsel as clean, ready for the next morsel.

The wooden sticks feel the heat and know the starch yet the journey via the path of wasabi or soy to the lips is a smooth one. 

Both the sticks know their role to make it happen, they work together as a single unit; one minute separate, next minute one singular instrument.

Chopsticks are the stick people they don't belong specifically to any age, gender, class, caste, creed or religious orientation. Nor can they be classified as metro, homo or heterosexual. They are simply people who are not jaded or classified, they have courage to hold their own and stand separately as well as work as a unit without intimidation, unlike the fingers or forks which are bound together and need to work along with each other without a choice. Chopsticks retain their individuality yet understand collective effort. 

The two sticks are like Ying and Yang they know how to balance karma every time they meet as a unit, making it an enjoyable experience to eat sticky rice, gravy, veggie with or without sauce. They don't poke, cut or slice. They pick, hold, carry, and dip sticky rice, relishing each morsel as a unique moment.

We are sticky rice and delicious just as we are, what we all need is a partner in the journey to make the eating experience delightful. So choose whatever works best for you, the table is laid, you are served and the choices are right before you. 

What you choose will define how you will be had.

Bon appetite. 

Mirror, mirror on the wall

What does one think when they see a shattered mirror; is it broken? Or is it fragmented, displaying multiple reflections of the person looking into it?

An unbroken mirror reflects a singular reflection; complete, composite and whole as a unit. It reflects the present location where the person is. So the mirror is considered functional for use and is retained.

The canvas of each life is quite similar, we begin unexposed since we are still to unlearn what nature taught us and learn what the world teaches us, so our canvas is blank. It’s reflects holistic emptiness.

Through the years the canvas gets painted bit by bit with many sections contributing to filling it up as a single unit; a composite holistic reflection. Despite each section having a story of its own, these stories are lost by the grandeur of the complete work of art. The voice of each section is hushed up by the brilliance of the end product in the present moment.

The limitless experiences are what contributes to our individual canvases, the unique sections which get missed if we perceive life in totality or define it by one section; age, gender, martial status, social strata, achievements, failures, etc.

Seeing life as a unit, we often applaud ourselves for merits earned or criticize ourselves for failure. This is but a synopsis; being fit - looking fab, achievements accumulated professionally or children produced in the cycle, shelved projects, failures but what we don’t notice is the challenges faced, tears shed, price paid, compromises made and the devastating storms one might have faced to get to the point where they stand today. The holistic picture makes us skip the finer details of these many beautiful sections of the canvas, despite them staring at us.

At the face of looking at someone, it is impossible to tell the wear and tear, the suppressed sadness or restlessness, the phobias and traumas that are being carried with them each day, the loneliness they dread which waits daily for them like a dutiful spouse, the longing and arousal that text them hourly, the desperation and shame of wrong decisions which they duck each morning but yet it looks over their shoulder with each firm handshake with which they meet life. The violation of innocence, the scars of loss, the tattered idea of love and its tiresome quest, the fatigue of trying daily yet being stuck in same patterns or indifference which like a cold winter refuses to allow the return of spring.

We also miss the giggles of hope that spill over in each smile, the tip toed jumps of luck and chance, the tug a war of infatuations, the heat and coolness of ambition, the breath of spiritual calling, the comfort of dependability from unnamed relationships, the guidance of the universe that keeps one ticking, the mentorship of repair that comes itself from damage, the management of time which is taught by all things and people who have chosen to leave.

There are so many fragments in each person making it impossible to know, see and acknowledge their presence by seeing a composite unit; the holistic canvas.

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall, wonder what you see at all”

The shattered mirror is the mother of fragments; she holds the different pieces, in their space. The fragments hold their fort with dignity for each experience, irrelevant of good or bad, have led to making us who we are today. Each experience is unique and  wholly responsible for the mark it has left. Without those experiences the canvas would not be complete.

So despite what the world considers functional and non functional, it is in the non-functional shattered mirror that the true self of the laboring artist is seen. With each fragment the holistic picture of our soul comes together.

When we smile at those broken bits, it seems as though each memory and moment is smiling right back at us in gratitude. It is in that moment that we feel blessed for each of them and despite their time passing by, they hold us together as a composite unit. We can visit them anytime for strength, learning, joy as we take our journey onwards. The sky at night has millions of spots of light that make the black blanket a work of art, so are our fragments that make us a work of art.

We began life with a blank canvas, since the purpose was for us unlearn nature, learn life and then unlearn life. The intention is not to look at the mirror as non-functional, to be replaced. But to know that these countless experiences cannot be credited to any one person but belongs to all. If a catastrophe did not visit then one would never know the capacity of our strength, which is needed to counter the effects of that catastrophe. Fragments color our world or else we would continue to be a blank canvas and there would be no reflection staring back at us.

Find time to appreciate your canvas for when you enjoy the masterpiece that you are, you will be a curator capable of seeing the work of art in all.

Mirror, mirror on the wall; life is our canvas and how to live it, is our call.

Salutations to an old friend : Self

  

The only one who has been with you from the first cry,  through each lie and till the last sigh is self. 

Why is beating others offensive but beating oneself called introspection.

Why is criticism of others called cynical but of oneself called the wake up call.

Why is deserting others cowardice but deserting self: selfless and enlightened.

Why are we moved by others tears but our own is a sign of weakness, detox or some theory of catharsis.

Why do we comfort others but never take a moment to comfort ourselves.

We spends days, weeks, months and even years rejecting, judging, torturing, accusing and hurting ourselves over and over again but find no place in our hearts to forgive ourselves for falling short of our own expectations. Why is it so easy for us to be harsh to ourselves? Doesn't the world dole out a fair share of that to us through life that we need to join that party.

When the world closes in on us and everyone has gone to their own place of comfort, who is with us in that dark moment. When the silence creeps in on a dark endless night whose breathing can we hear. When nobody believes in us, who vouches silently that we have it in us to give that last shot a try. When rejected, ridiculed and reduced to a sad joke for others amusement, who defends our broken mind and heart. Who gives us the warmth to start all over again; Self.

Nothing and no one will matters the day there is no self.

Yet the harshest we are to self : critical, unaccepting and often crueler that what others can ever be to us.

My friend,  you alone walk with me through all storms.

You alone survive in me each day and zealously fight for me since the first war cry that patched us two together.

You alone suffer besides me and rejoice besides me, we are one: spirit,  body and soul.

You alone are with me in the darkest hole of pain,  failure and rejection.

You deserve better at least from me.

For when the world stones me,  it's always you and me but what's worse is when I stone you, it's always you and never me. 

I blame you for aging, for being less than another,  for never keeping up, for losing your touch and sometimes for never giving up. There are moments when I wish it would all end but it is in those moments that you have always shown your unconditional love and have stood the test of time and shown your capacity to endure and overcome whatever life swings our way.

You hang on and on till the very end.

I know you today and see you for what you are my best friend. I humbly acknowledge you and cherish you. You are my only miracle, the only mend I will ever get.

Cherish self for it is your only companion, constant and stable, unwavering, unchanging no matter what comes your way, no matter season, time or place.

It is your only gift.

Happily ever after........Living in the moment..........Happily ever after

  "There is no such thing like happily ever after", we have heard this numerous number of times. The concept is laughed at, scorned, toppled or presented as non-existent. 

Discussing a sensitive subject like this can even get one, butt lashed or sore faced.

At the start things always seem simple and it is in simple that extra ordinary seems achievable; the impossible dream as they say.
 

Childhood dreams and girlish fantasies are lovely; unspoilt, uncorrupted by the reality of change. Most girls have gone through this phase. Having said that, each one of us has had a different version of what our knight in shining armor looks like, the ultimate fairy tale marriage and our individual concept of happily ever after.

We dreamt it so why be embarrassed or fake that we didn't, just because we are all grown up now. Most of us have played house-house; hosting make believe tea parties, got our dolls married, etc. and for those ladies who did not, please don’t think less of us, just because the vast majority of us did. It doesn't matter if we were girlie or tom boyish, what mattered is that we all had secret dreams and fantasies and enthusiastically waited to live our dreams as soon as we could grow up. 

Some of us had simple dreams while others went out all nine yards. The romance novels, girlie gossip, coupled with male attention and promises to die for, have led women to believe that this dream will happen for them, even if it did not happen for others. With fingers crossed teenagers have pledged to hold on to this eternal dream; Happily ever after.

Idealistic views are definitely a great way to begin; aim for the treetop without an iota of doubt in mind. At the beginning intentions are always good and effort is always given its best shot.

It is the years that follow and experiences which sometimes are not pleasant that result in a wake up call; maybe all is not so well in paradise.

Times, when boyfriends do not listen to what we feel; feeble words, ineffective communication, lost en route from heart to lips. Times, when the list of men pursuing a lady is more for her outer beauty and the inner beauty and child in her is never noticed. 

Times, when lust is convenient and love is a lot of hard work. Times, when love has to be parked since there are bills to pay. Times, when struggle, resistance and calculations get the better of love. Times, when the magic has long gone out of the window. Times, when competition makes one so insecure that they stop loving and start retaliating. 

Times, when money is a far more fashionable ride than choosing the boy next door who knows everything about you, yet he is never in your line of sight. Times, when infidelity breaks the heart. Times, when one is tired of heartbreak, rejection and loneliness. 

Times, when we run out of excuses to console ourselves let alone go looking for hope. Times, when destiny takes away a partner. At all these times, happily ever after seems only a rusted thought, than the energy it fueled us with at the start.

We doubt our dreams, we doubt ourselves.

Pain, loss, suffering, disappointment, failure, rejection are batch mates from a school called: Dull Day. They have an unsettling effect on all and often lead us far away from positivity and hope, into dark places where vision, thought and action seem disjointed; everything is unclear.

Wear and tear (Dull Day Curriculum) is a process of life. A baby has to kick and stretch to grow, the muscle tears and repairs when we work out and the caterpillar has to die for the butterfly to be born.

It is important to hold on to ones dream but not match it with a name or face of a person. Destiny the mastermind, will take us to that dream sadly or gladly, to a partner individually right for us but that person may not be the one we are with right now. The pain of not getting what or who we want is what hurts more than the fading away momentarily of happily ever after. People spend months even years, before they can get themselves to let go and move on. Delay incurred, is eventually delay of your own train from reaching its destination on time, it's really up to you.

One may try many covers to fit a box but only the right size will fit, so the person trying can either break the cover or the box by forcing it to fit or keep trying till the right one fits.

The above example is no different from finding love. We work hard to make our partner or ourselves walk the course but at some point it either breaks the partner because they get tired of trying to fit in or break ourselves in frustration of not being able to make it happen. But with the right one it simply fits.

That does not mean that with the right one there won't be challenges or adjustments, what it means is, it will be a team effort towards a common and rewarding goal. Good intentions is the first pledge of love, the want to give a part of oneself voluntarily, the want to share ones life, the want to make space for the other; self driven motivation and not forced action.

The perks of wear and tear (Dull Day Graduation Certificate), is that the abrasions of the heart and soul is actually what brings us to this fabulous place called living in the moment, taking a day at a time and seeing people for who they actually are, than who we want them to be or expect them to be. In this place of self awareness and awareness of others we open ourselves up to the sun hence, it seems as though it's shining brighter, actually it's not, its simply shining like everyday but since we are not wearing shades of preconceived ideas, notions and expectations, it seems brighter.

Nature serves us unlimited opportunities, we meet numerous people in our one human lifetime, let alone the lives the soul has journeyed over perpetuity; some people end up as friends, some as healers, some as mentors, some as confidants and when you least expect it you will meet the right partner for you, in the here and now.

This person can be many things to us, a friend, lover, soul mate or twin flame. The one thing this person creates over the list of other things that connects two people is a sense of peace and harmony; a feeling of complete. The feeling of completeness is more in togetherness, a place of rest. The magical point to note is that this person is a result of our journey through the good and bad to get to the present moment in our individual life, no matter what that place is, irrelevant of abundance or deficiency, it’s only centered on being aware and present in the moment, in the here and now.

Once we are living in the moment, each moment is the present and each day of the present is continuous which in all actuality is ever after. Being open to life attracts life and life itself is joy, no matter how short or long.

To be alive in soul, spirit, mind and body is the greatest achievement for any human being. The simple things are the greatest, yet we learn their value when we are at the brink of deprivation, loss or deficiency. Everybody breathes from the day they are born till they depart, it's common to all, given to all mankind freely yet for someone with respiratory problems, the greatest gift is to breathe without effort. Similarly, connecting in harmony through love with our creator is a given, yet when we lose our way, the return journey is the greatest achievement.

Therefore, if living life wholly is about happiness and happiness if lived in the moment is present continuous, then happily ever after does exist and it is wonderful to experience the same.

The past is gone and yet it has given us so much, wisdom being one gift above all other things, it's this wisdom that makes us appreciate today as a wonderful gift, priceless beyond words or value. Living in the today everyday, is ever after and there is a little bit of love in each day. Gratitude opens us up to the limitless fountain of love and like the morning it fills us with brilliance.

"Dreams are not negotiable" Paulo Coelho

So ladies hold on to your happily ever after and live in the present everyday till the empty frame has a happy picture staring right back at you. Nothing is ever erased by nature, only recycled, repackaged and sent right back.

Look out for what’s dropped off in your post box, for the next time you go checking....you might be surprised.

Till then hang in there, the seasons keep changing.

Why reserve a table if you aren’t going to dinner?

These are challenging times that we live in; the earlier days competition for a man's attention was between secretary, girlfriend, wife, mistress and/or the closeted gay lover. Mostly hushed and back door in nature (pun intended) and rarely embarrassing, as women didn’t have access to internet, customized phone bills, friends to keep tabs or Facebook / Twitter to share and forward information.

It's okay if there is trouble in paradise once in a while, but choosing to live in chaos and trouble all the time is quite another thing. The dynamics today seem changed; it’s so refined that there is no grain left for a girl to derive good old-fashioned pleasure from dating and courtship.

  

Arranged marriages are still prevalent to preserve blue blood and family wealth. Irrelevant of gay or straight, the average age of marriages in India is 21-28years and since according to law, gay union is a criminal offense, gay men and lesbian woman remain closeted and like straight people they too take the plunge to please parents, dancing with pretense to uphold tradition.

For those who don't classify in the above category, there is dating sites, dating friends, lovers of friends, others husbands and wives and all combinations one can creatively think off, with the hope that one day they might hit jackpot with someone. 

Nobody wants to die alone nor sleep alone which is one of the reasons for the desperate searching, trying, exploring to satisfy ego, heart or simply the vacant mind. All this screams of the fear of the unknown and the thought of the coldness of old age shakes up everybody.

Interestingly, there is another group of people; those who don't seek a permanent partner or relationship, do not want to procreate nor seek the company of others for more than a brief period. These people know their needs and have a small black book to ensure their needs are catered to, as and when required.

These liberated people have invented the concept of need based, convenient sex, available on call or through any means of communication available, simply to stay in touch. One would have to assume that these modern thinkers come from a place of trial and test to have formulated this option as a result of errors observed, noted and/or suffered over the years. 

Considering the choice of convenient sex, it would be safe to assume that such people are medically certified to ensure that there are no medical repercussions for the participants involved at a later date.

This fraternity of happy people have redefined social networking by spicing up the sex, taking the pressure of responsibility off the handbrake, making orgies, blows jobs, finger fucks, fondling or french kissing just simple regular options on the menu card of what one can expect on ones first date or hook up, without emphasis on terminology or classification, since the outcome of getting laid, is of relevance and not the means used.

The best thing about this fraternity is that they are available online, offline and at remote site as well. Accessibility makes the offering simple and whatever is simple is popular for them; there is simply no need to make any extra effort, it's simply casual.

This group is fast growing but these participants were once simple minded, zealous and pure hearted dreamers, like all those who have not suffered the destruction of dreams nor seen the shattering of hopes, but they got tired of wasting their emotions on relationships which cause grief than joy; broken marriages, a live in gone sour, tired of waiting for Mr/Ms Right, etc.

These people chose to stop hoping and preferred to rather barter their dreams for a few moments of pleasure; something to take the mind off the wounds of the past.

Easy is good and the tough is best avoided. It's simpler to be told where to take the turn, than try new routes with challenges. Why aspire for a diamond when a crystal will also do. There is no need to aspire for special when mediocre is readily available. Better to have 50% than work towards 100%

What is our world coming to, the ever-increasing cynicism and defeatist attitude is alarming and depressing. Isn't life meant to be fought for, no matter what. Does one simply throw in the towel before the game has even begun or if the going gets tough? What’s with the population of quitters growing at such a fast pace. Are men and women becoming machines preferring to stop at the next available sex pump to fuel in every time there is loneliness, disappointment, failure or difficulty in ones relationship?

Is there a need for ten penises to have an orgasm? Is porn and casual sex replacing love and genuine intimacy? Can it really be fun to have relations with a person without emotions involved? Can physical intimacy alone be good enough to warm ones heart? 

How did we become so detached, distant and clinical? Why did people allow themselves to give up so quickly?

Is our generation filling up with cowardice daily, that with each blow that life gives us, we run into a hole where emotions, morals and values are tossed out since there is no room for them? A place where it’s easier to give up than to fight to set ones house back in order. 

Is this the moral fabric of the world coming our way? Are normal, sensitive, caring people with character becoming a novelty? Is falling and staying in love now going to win the next Nobel Prize because it is becoming rarer each day. Really!!!

Is there no room for love anymore or must people survive on alternates like porn, dildos, gigolos or community lovers for pleasures.

The taste of joyful pleasures, in the arms of a man with whom there is connection and love seems to a tall order from where we are today.

It's not necessary to name connection but it's important to have one. The joys of want and desire are not bad, when two people devour each other because their souls are knotted: body, mind and heart, all in harmony. Do such relationships not exist anymore or have men become rabbits. 

Is love only a forgotten fairy tale today? From the way it seems to be going, love is soon on it’s way to becoming a profanity than a word of affection.

How did we get here?

The very men and women who broke people’s hearts have set them up to become victims of alienation and compromise. The things that broke them now threaten to lead them. The things that offended them are now the values they embrace. Can they even see their own reflection in the mirror anymore or have they changed completely or is the mirror shattered.

How did we come here, why did no one notice the pain, why did no one care enough to reach out and mend the damage at its inception.

How do women who still hang on to hope, get through times such as these?

The good men seem taken a long time ago and a huge majority are happily gay. That leaves us with the rest. The particular rest who are defensive to gentle suggestions refusing to allow love to pass through the entry door, let alone reach them. Who are drunk in the stupor of weak choices and averse to being shown the mirror.  Who blast the music so loud, that they never hear the sound of their hearts. Who prefer intoxicants, causal conversation and humping, lest the thumping of the thoughts in their subconscious may catch them off guard, taking them off their course.

These evolved men are toilet trained to stop the tears, abandon memories and have sadly closed the door so tight that its impossible for any outsider to push it open and reach their hearts.

It's sad to see the victory of pain and the defeat of happiness. It's sad to see dreams tossed, since the eyes are no longer interested in looking for anything other than what's in line of sight. It's sad to see opportunity wasted each time one more person gives up. 

What are we choosing and why?

If there is no intention to sit down to dinner and start with a new beginning, then why reserve a table. 

To begin something new a few changes need to happen, the first being; leaving behind the burden of the old school bag, dressing up with an open mind, wearing a good fragrance of mystery despite the predictable erection, which is evident and yet essential every morning. Finally one would need to turn up leaving their self-created gated fortresses to meet a person midway if not all the way.

Should an opportunity be given a try, dinner can actually lead to an interesting beginning.

There is always hope for the brave but it is the coward that coronates everybody other than himself, making tall claims which he cannot deliver.

Open to life rarely comes with accolades or any guarantee of a happily ever after; we all fall, make mistakes, wrong choices, lose some - win some. But the one thing that open to life comes with, is preservation of ones soul, hope and belief, that as long as we walk forward, destiny will meet with us midway. Good things happen to those who are open to life, but sadly it takes its own time to happen and sometimes we have nothing to do but wait for our moment in time… but that’s better than wasting opportunity or selling oneself short.

Ladies, believe and hang in there, you never know what the new dawn will brings.  The wait might be over quicker than you think, so don’t give up. When it’s the darkest in the night, it is then that it is only moments before the break of dawn.

Don’t compromise; you are not a product of low self-esteem to use your body like a commodity. Use your body for fun and exploration but not as an act of desperation on account of advancing age, loneliness or compromise.

Life is a result of abundance given to us for eternity; the world is in existence till we are in the light. Do not choose a life of deficiency just because you have to wait for Mr. Right. You may be surprised that when you cant wait anymore is when he comes along. There is no GPS or road-map to find Mr. Right yet when the time is right destiny will make paths cross and the magic will happen.


It's always when you are about to give up that you are closest to reaching your pot of gold.Don't give up, just because others have or others tell you its an impossible dream, for those who never wake up at the break of dawn, it's difficult to explain what a spectacular sight it is. It's the same thing with dreams, they are yours and they are priceless, don't give up on them because others don't see it's beauty like you do.

Every princess has to kiss a frog or two, before prince charming comes along. True love will climb the castle and rescue the maiden, for in love no hurdle seems a hurdle and impossible is always easy. Sitting on the fence and looking at others lives will never give anyone any answers until you jump in and have your own experience.

So what if you got it wrong, the relationships that did not work out have taught you exactly what you want. So don’t give up just yet.

It better to love and lose than to choose to abandon self esteem and become a fuel tank at a sex pump, you never know when the pump runs out of gas, then what...

Stop, think and then choose…….. 

Why reserve a table if you aren’t going to dinner.