Unicornucopia

I just can’t get enough of ‘love’. Every morning, some say, I wake up with a smile; I know I wake up wondering (with a smile), how many are going to love me that day and how much are they going to love me—that is my elixir! Shouldn’t that be the case with everyone?

Sometimes we forget; I do too—we forget, what a few loving words can do, what wonders, what miracles… I wish I’d never say anything unloving to anyone; but I do, many times.

Sometimes I wish I could live at the airport, and every minute of every day of every week of every month of every year, my people would come and meet me, on repeat, with gargantuan love, and never tire of doing so. 

Sometimes I wish I had six pairs of limbs, a much bigger mind and an even bigger heart, so I could do everything that everyone wants me to do for them, not seek anything in return, and seal the deal with a big, massive hug.

Sometimes I wish I wouldn’t tire of songs like ‘Happiness’ and ‘Don’t worry, be happy’, and listen to them on repeat all my life.

Sometimes I wish that Rajkumar, the mongrel who lives on my street and whom I love dearly had a horn on its head, and could fly. Then again, he is equally amazing without all of that.

Sometimes I wish I could imprint on every person I ever met.

Sometimes I wish for my son to have been born at the same time as me; I wish we could grow up together.

Sometimes I wish for a whole lot of things that cannot come true… but its all right.


*Reference: ‘Twilight Series’; Imprinting is the involuntary mechanism by which shapeshifters find their soul-mates.

Unicornucopia

Salto, Jump

No one seemed to know the street my hostel was supposed to be on. So, I kept walking along the edge of the mountain and along the edge of the water, looking for signage. When I reached the end of the town, I saw it, written in bold orange letters ‘Jump’—that was the name of the hostel.

I walked into the reception area and this beautiful girl called Sol sat there. She had the warmest smile and her dark skin glowed under the sunlight that fell through the window. As she was greeting me, a man walked into the reception. He stared at me, smiled, and said ‘Hola’. ‘Hola’ I said, and looked away, feeling very nervous. His helper who was close behind him asked him, ‘quién es ella, who is she’. The laundry man shrugged and said ‘Alguna guapa, some pretty girl’! Sol looked at me and smiled. Something like this had never happened to me before. I felt more nervous.

When she was done with the laundry man, she walked me to my dormitory that was called ‘Blue Light’. The ceiling glistened like the most beautiful lake under the spell of a warm winter sun. Suddenly I didn’t feel nervous anymore. I settled in, unpacked, and then went out to look for some food. After eating, I went back to the hostel and sat in the common room, looking out onto the sea.

Soon, night fell and the empty common room starting filling up. There was something about these people—they all seemed to be buzzing with nervous energy. I waited patiently.

As the clock struck nine and the sky turned completely dark, Eduardo walked in. ‘Hola Amigos’ he said. ‘Hola’ everyone chorused. Eduardo was dressed in a diving suit, zipped only till his waist. He zipped it up fully and said, ‘Vamos’. The word whipped the crowd into a frenzy and before I could understand what was going on, they were dressed and out into the balcony. I followed them and saw the last of them walk down the steps, into the water and then swim to a spot a few hundred meters from the hostel… the spot was lit—blue. ‘Sólo tienes que seguir la luz azul, Just follow the blue light’ I heard Eduardo shout to no one in particular.

Sol came running into the balcony wearing a diving suit, smiled and winked at me, and then swam away.

When they were all in the blue light, Eduardo shouted, ‘Ahora’ and everyone dipped into the water for a few seconds and then jumped… into the air.

I went back inside, found a diving suit in the utilities room, threw it on quickly and ran out. As soon as I started swimming, a hand came and grabbed mine. ‘Vamos a la luz azul, Let’s go to the blue light’ said Eduardo, his eyes the same colour as the light. I smiled.

When we reached the blue light, I began to feel completely weightless. Eduardo put his hands on my waist and pulled me into the water. I looked around… enchanted apparitions played the most beautiful violin pieces to the world of the dead, which looked like a big, happy park in the throes of a mild, windy summer. Only instead of green grass, there was the blue light.

‘Salto, Jump’ said Eduardo, tugging on my hand. We threw ourselves into the air, without much effort… and then we flew.

Salto, Jump

This Dance

This Dance

Stranger

Is for you

Your symphony, my ecstasy

Since that day in the rain

I can taste this dance

Can you?

Will you care if I made you the father, the maker

Of this thing that I can taste in my mouth, my being

My blood flows—to this dance

I’m writing this down on blank paper

Like never before

No words, no lines

Just you and me

And this dance

Do you care?

Your image

Puts me in a trance

And I ascend

Like I’m possessed

There’s a demon

In me, of you

And I hang

By a thread

For I don’t know if you like this dance

Its cabaret, its contra-dance

Its sensual, its personal

Listen to my beating heart

It swollen and overfull

And it’s moving only and only

To the beat of this dance

Can this be true?

I can smell you

Your eyes

They’re innervating me, drugging me

With the thrill, the rapture

Of this dance

Will you dance with me?

This Dance

Oh, she's only 17!

I had posted this photo somewhere else a little while back. At that point of time I was listening to the Kings of Leon album 'Only by the Night' on repeat... and for some reason when it came to naming the photo I could only think of 'Oh, she's only 17' from the track '17' on the album.

Someone did question the name and said, 'Why, why, why?' and I kept thinking 'why can't you leave the poor title alone'.

Newho, if you can come up with another title for the picture, I'd be happy to hear it ;)

Oh, she's only 17!

an ode ... or not !

here's an ode

to some good weather

to this unproductive stage

to the numbness

to the things that don't scare me, when they should

to other things that scare me, when they shouldn't

to love

to laughter

to pain

to desire

to waiting in vain

to all that jazz

and everything else under the sun

come back...

an ode ... or not !