You could get with that guy,
he dances well,
his smile is nice,
he looks great,
and of course he understands you,
in his own way
I could get with that girl,
she’s interesting,
she looks good,
the future would be rosy,
and on paper you and he,
her and I,
would make great couples,
BUT.
(there’s always a ‘but’ with me)
it would be predictable,
it would be safe,
and she wouldn’t love me,
(the way you love me)
and he wouldn’t love you,
(the way I love you),
and I’m the best at being me,
(which you like),
and you’re the best at being you,
(which I like),
it’s that old fashioned love,
the hopeless romantic in me thrives,
the dreamer in me dreams,
the spirit in me floats,
(he can’t make that happen, and she can’t I’m pretty sure,
anyway, he’s just surface level great,
and if you dig a little deeper, to the deepest depths of his soul,
he couldn’t connect to you like I do)
and you don’t see your reflection in him,
that’s the reason why we’re here!
the grass is always greener 20/12/2009
insatiable primal desire, irrational hunger and need. 20/12/2009
lights out,
hearts racing,
I stand with you,
hear our breath hasten,
eyes closed shut,
you bite your bottom lip,
and then your lips part,
I pull you towards me;
hands hold you close,
desire draws us closer,
you feel me,
we lay,
we unite,
no words,
but no silence,
whispers in the darkness.
And I love when you reach for me,
I love when you yearn,
and I’m lost in you so deep,
and I can’t make sense of this anymore,
grace and beauty;
crash against insatiable carnal instinct,
magnetism,
steamy hot air,
the atmosphere charging by the second,
as we touch,
as I feed my insatiable hunger for you,
as we breathe,
as I look at you,
as I gaze in to your soul,
I keep you locked with me,
connected we stay,
passionate embrace,
content never again to see the light of day.
Tonight 03/12/2009
A poem by a friend, written about her late fiance.
The soft voice, the comforting smile,
The laughing eyes, each night in my dream,
You call my name, you hold me close,
And for that moment, we’re a team.
I see our children, fruits of our love,
As I close my eyes and sleep at night,
And there you hold them tender and close,
And at that moment, life feels right.
When daylight creeps into my bed,
Into my dreams, into my world,
The image vanishes, it disappears
And once again, life is cruel and cold.
I realize that I’m all alone,
The stinging tears and intense pain,
A panic rises from deep within me
And the truth hits me all over again.
I yearn to lay right by your side,
And on my cheek feel your soft hand,
I’d happily die for just one day,
So I could visit heaven’s land.
I know, my love, your life was unfair,
I could always hear God was calling your name,
But I also know that on one distant day,
You’ll hold me in your arms again.
You held, loved, and protected me,
You taught me all about the meaning of trust,
No-one will care for me the way you did,
But why is life so damn unjust?
Our bond is powerful, conquering all,
And though we are physically apart,
The fusion of our souls can never be broken,
A long time ago I gave you my heart.
So know I’ll always hear and feel you,
Even if you cannot be seen,
And so, my love, my beautiful love,
Tonight I’ll see you in my dream.
Chetana Kaur Brar, November 2009
What if? 01/12/2009
I can think of many things that make me happy, also things that make me angry or sad. I can think of the things that people do for happiness, also the things we do that can cause sadness or pain. I can think of why ‘happy’ is such a cool place or state of mind to be in. But there lies a problem I think.
What makes ‘happiness’ such an elusive state of mind or ‘being’ that we have to be reminded to ‘be it’ to achieve it, to work towards it. How is it that we just can’t ‘be’ happy? Is it the case that happiness is something that you have to toil to get, to appreciate, to pursue? Can you get it without having aspired to do so, or even, have people stumbled upon it by mistake?
It almost seems as though I have to change my life to be happy; let me explain; there’s the car, the house, the clothes, the lifestyle, the money, the future, the present. For example, if I don’t drive a car I can’t get around (well I can walk but successful people don’t walk do they?) Without a car I’m immobile, I can’t rush for that dream interview, that life changing moment as I’m rushing to get to the train station to meet the one I love, and even that dream job is unattainable as I’ll never get there on time. Then there’s ‘living the lifestyle’, of course you have to realise that ownership of my 4 wheels gives me the ‘freedom’ to go anywhere I want (at the speed limit dictated) anytime I want (as long as I don’t have work or respect other commitments) and stay for as long as I want – forever maybe (well as long as work, commitments, finances, and annual leave allow) because that’s what a car represents right?
And then there’s little things like clothes, you know how good it feels to buy clothes, to look good, to be admired for what you wear to set trends even. If I don’t look good, people can’t possibly know what my personality is really like (the individual’s garments and accessories are of course a fast track, short cut signal, a subtle communication to the masses symbolising my personality and its many intricate levels) What if they look at how I dress and what I wear and decide that I’m someone that’s not worth talking to, or that my choice of jeans over trousers means that I may not be the type of person that is intellectually able to hold a conversation with them? (If I wore a shirt and a tie that would at least get a right of audience, I’d at least command a couple of minutes of chat.) What if they decided that I was unworthy of their love and attention because I didn’t take the time to coordinate my socks with my shoes?
And there’s the small issue of money. We’re told from a very young age that money gives us the confidence to know that we can do anything we want (within budget) as happiness is about choices; money gives me the choices to be as happy as I want to be. If I have money I can travel the world (depending on how many days holiday I have left from work and I can afford it) and meet whoever I want (depending on what I’m wearing, my image and whether I fit in to that social circle) and live the dream. Also I can attract the best women and therefore partners and therefore secure the best future for my dream life (because clearly the best woman in the world are reserved for those with the highest social status, maybe there’s a positive correlation with the amount of intellect and personality and the level of love I can feel with the amount of money that I have too. Maybe that’s why rich people and families are always so picture perfect, because they earned it.)
So by doing all these things (this isn’t an exhaustive list by any means, it’s a few of the ‘everyday’ issues that must be considered in the pursuit of happiness) and physically achieving the best I possibly can, I can achieve my desired mental state of happiness.
I think I’m beginning to understand now, I think I’ve been doing it wrong by convincing myself that in spiritually pursuing the desired state of happiness I would ultimately be at peace. And it must also be wrong in thinking that I would attain happiness by understanding my inner feelings, the way I act and why I act in that way or indeed understanding my thinking and behaviour.
I appreciate that I’ve been thinking crazy, now my spirit and soul must be reeled in and made to understand timescales and targets and the feelings that I have must be quantified and understood and replicated and mass produced and maintained at their optimum stock level. How could I have not understood that my creativity is something that cannot just be appreciated? It must be channelled in to an appropriate form of expression, one that can be capitalised on and marketed and cultivated, where the hell was my business sense? I was so close to losing it, this is clearly how to be human, that was a close call!!!
If I think about happiness and attaining that goal, you know, to be happy all of the time, we might say that without the other feelings, negative for example there’d be no appreciation of the ‘good stuff’ or enjoyment of it. But what are we when we’re we’re not happy or sad or angry and what are we when we’re in that horrible place called comfortable or content? And what’s that place called?,
you know, the one where you’re your just watching t.v, or just walking to the shops to get your lunch, or driving to and from work? Or even when you come back home and you’re making tea in an empty kitchen? Is it bad that we’re not ‘anything‘ at those times? Are we supposed to be ‘something‘? Part of me is almost forced to feel kind of sad that there’s not a party going on in the kitchen, and there isn’t a dog or a cat or kids that come to meet me at the door and there’s not something cooking in the oven or a glass of something chilled awaiting me as I put my feet up to relax and feel the warmth of everything I’ve worked hard to create. I say ‘made to feel sad’ because if I think about it I’m not. It doesn’t make me feel anything that I don’t have that type of existence, and that includes the car, the lifestyle, the money, the everything, I feel kind of guilty that I don’t want any of that. Is that bad? Is it possible to be ‘happy’ all of the time? Without the goals that society wants me to have, the rules that I need to follow to be considered a successful, functioning member? I don’t know. And ‘Is it ok to just be normal?’ Well our own versions of normal?
And what if there wasn’t any pressure to act and feel a certain way, in certain environments and places. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen if we decided to act HOW WE FELT, not even in our hearts, but exactly how we felt in our bodies and minds on that first recognition of emotion, of feeling, no matter how crazy or irrational it may seem to the masses should our thoughts be projected mercilessly out through some alien technology,
Do you know what I mean? No? Well like;
like, if your inner dialogue suddenly says;
“dude I just want to keep my mouth shut all day and just see how people react around me”,
or
“I just want to sing this song in my head at the top of my voice in this room,
just because it’s awesome and I have the urge to”
or
“on this crowded train I want to involve everyone in conversation and just see if everyone,
if they all talked to each other could actually get along” what would that be like?
Why is it that people are considered social pariahs if we strike up conversation with anyone? Do I have to carry a sign saying – “I don’t want to hit on you, I don’t want anything from you, you’re not gonna be stuck with me if you have conversation, and I’m not crazy” What if you could talk to someone and be excited, and have a joke, and have a laugh and enjoy their company, and giggle, and just have fun and that could be purely platonic. And you wouldn’t have to think about what people thought as you’d know that your intentions were really pure and that people around you wouldn’t judge you on their perception of right and wrong, morality and immorality. What if you could do any of these things and act in any kind of manner that didn’t hurt anyone, or harm or offend anyone. What if people could just talk to each other, and if they didn’t like the conversation they could move on without any pressure or harm or love lost? What if we could just live, without being judged or categorised or written off without people actually taking time to know us and what we’re really about. What if all that mattered was our naked soul and people learnt to shed all of the filters put in place by years of abuse, misguidance and exploitation and we were able to recognise ourselves in each other. As one.
What if?
(what if I could write this without questioning my own sanity!)
Everyone falls in love sometime… 24/11/2009
We don’t choose who we fall in love with,
yet we choose who to commit too,
who we share ourselves with,
who we relate too.
We don’t take the risk
(with people that might be worth it),
for fear of the unknown,
for fear of getting hurt.
And we don’t even consider it a risk;
when we get involved with just ‘anyone’,
And it’s not a gamble when we get with someone;
knowing it isn’t love.
We don’t think twice,
when we believe we’re in control;
and there’s no real problem,
as there’s no real challenge.
When we know we’re ’settling’,
We knowingly choose who to do that with,
we have the ‘comfort’ of knowing where we’re going;
that at least we played it ’safe’.
So do we really have a choice?,
as to who we fall in love with?
Why not? Why not just risk it all and just fall in love,
surely we’ve tried everything else…..
moment of clarity… 24/11/2009
Have you ever been so overcome;
by a feeling so powerful,
a yearning so deep within;
that you couldn’t believe it could be true;
that it could have happened so simply?
Maybe you questioned how it happened;
how you suddenly came to hold your fate in your hands,
Then you may have realised;
Or had the thought that your destiny had always manifested within,
Unleashed by the flash of brilliance;
that gave you an eye opening glimpse;
of the liberation of self awareness,
Maybe you realised that really, over the years,
your happiness was only ever yours to lose?
That you are, and always have been in control.
one 24/11/2009
He talked to her,
oblivious he’d lost himself,
unaware of when.
Where his words came from he did not know,
what he talked about?
well, he had no time to consider,
it’s just that the communication flowed,
that they both connected,
that they felt comfortable,
the feeling so familiar.
he looked at her at times and just fell silent,
she appreciated that and reflected the feeling back,
sometimes they spoke with hands on heart,
to convey sincerity,
to understand and portray the depth of feeling,
to connect,
to steady the beating,
to calm the breathing.
when they could talk no more,
they both realised that;
they hadn’t many questions,
and they needed no answers,
the universe and all of its mysteries;
didn’t have to be understood,
it was enough to have felt it,
it was enough to share that feeling;
with her.
i forgot how good, how easy life can be 08/11/2009
The person that I had become,
wasn’t apparent at the time,
sleepless nights,
tasteless food,
joyless laughter,
forced smiles.
Amongst that I told myself,
that it was life,
it was a test,
it would make me stronger.
where were the saviours?
where were my parents even?
The person I had become,
lost ability to understand;
friendship,
love,
warmth,
sincerity.
Goodwill,
honesty,
purity;
I couldn’t trust anything.
I secretly lost my trust in everyone (the more I felt alone),
I lost my trust in me.
Sleeping tablets,
suicidal thoughts,
depression; despair,
sadness,
loss,
tears.
Rejection,
failure,
confusion,
unfamiliarity,
alienation,
all manifested in the heart of me.
Life became a waiting game,
when would it end,
when would it stop hurting me,
I didn’t have the strength,
or I didn’t reach the depth of stupidity,
to close the book, to sever my soul.
Life is now limitless,
like a baby I’m amazed; I learn each day,
I imagine like a child,
I dream like I’m a teen,
I’m fearless,
I forgot how good, how easy life can be.
change the world – who are you not to shine? 03/11/2009
We all have so much power,
yet we can walk with a perpetual mental crouch,
lets unleash it,
lets believe that one word from us;
embedded into someone’s consciousness,
can grow into a thought, a feeling,
a revelation, an epiphany,
in that way we can influence,
we can inspire;
in that way we have the power to change the world.
We can change reality,
we have the ability,
we were born with limitless power,
to spread wisdom,
to spread happiness,
to spread love.
When we’re negative;
We can be without aforethought;
especially when we’re having a bad day,
so why not try something else?
why not dream that we hold the key?,
why not believe that in one sentence;
with a positive perception,
or a positive experience in life,
that we can lift someone with that chink of light,
maybe its darkness they were in,
maybe they just couldn’t see the sun because it was too bright,
maybe they just needed us to help them focus.
What if we were meant to be the tool to crack any limiting beliefs?
Why not liberate people with new perspectives,
opening eyes to roads and avenues never considered before,
at least then, they can decide,
and if they decide to stay, at least they considered a change – right?
I don’t want to preach, I don’t want to force opinions or beliefs,
I believe in freedom of thought, of words, of actions,
I believe in the choice in deciding not to act, not to change;
But….
I believe that if you can touch someone’s soul,
then you’ve left something of a legacy,
part of you has been eternally perpetuated;
in that transference of energy,
it will resonate,
it will flourish,
the butterfly effect.
It happened to me,
I felt connected,
it made me human again,
it made me spiritual,
it made me understand;
that all that we have ever accomplished,
that all that we have ever known,
is the smallest fraction of what we could be,
I believe that,
I know that,
I understand that.
And I have to make sure that in writing these words;
that you know that you can trust that voice in your head,
the one that whispers that you were meant for greatness,
that you deserve the best that life can offer,
that you are worthy of love, of admiration, of success,
ignore any advice or comments you may receive to the contrary,
please trust yourself.
Follow your own heart,
and your mind can’t argue with your will,
who are you not to shine?
waiting to exhale 31/10/2009
I missed you the first time I had to leave you,
But it felt nothing like this,
Nothing like this,
It would be easier to rip my heart out of my chest,
It would hurt less,
I need you here with me,
We have to share life together,
It’s running out,
How can I wait?
Every day gone is a day wasted,
It’s a day I didn’t have with you,
Eternity isn’t enough,
It’s not enough,
I feel alive when you’re with me,
I’m better, “harder, faster, stronger”
(remember our joke?!)
I tell everyone about you,
They’ve met you already,
Through the glow you radiate within me,
Your already familiar to them,
And I know that each day is a blessing,
And I’m so glad your back in my life,
But my foolish heart is impatient,
And it will continue to be,
Until you’re here by my side.
andrea’s amazing grace 31/10/2009
She took to the stage,
Closed her eyes,
And breathed in,
She absorbed the atmosphere,
The expectation.
As she exhaled,
The room became still,
The audience’s minds cleared,
And before she even sang,
The crowd were hypnotised.
Her eyes opened,
She sang,
The voice that resonated,
Melted every expectation,
Entranced; the audience listened intently.
They journeyed with her,
Riding on every note,
Her vocals, like honey,
Drenched their souls,
Filling the cells of their honeycomb minds.
And when she praised god,
I was left speechless,
by her strength,
devotion,
and power.
looking for your face in the crowd 30/10/2009
after we stopped talking
(because we didn’t break up;
we were never together),
I thought of going back to the places we used to go,
to the place where we first met,
but then i thought about how it would feel to be there without you,
it wouldn’t be the same,
it would be shadowed by the hope that in every bar, restaurant and club,
i’d meet you by ‘chance’
i thought about how it would feel, how we would feel;
when we actually did see each other,
maybe the flash, shock and surprise of the moment;
would overexpose the memory, leaving us to start where we left off,
maybe we’d look in to each other’s eyes,
overcome by the emotion,
and no matter how hard i tried to fight it i’d breakdown,
or you’d breakdown and one of us would comfort the other
but maybe i’d just be numb,
as i’d have hardened up to the hurt i felt before,
and whether my heart wanted to let my emotions run free,
my mind would be convinced not to trust you
i couldn’t tell you how many times,
i thought about going back,
how in a world of billions of people,
i would look around in fear and in hope that i would see you,
at the back of my mind,
how ever ridiculous it would be,
i hoped that just by thinking about you,
i could bring you closer to me.
flickers of your presence haunt me in my present 30/10/2009
another year on,
i’m still hurt by you,
flickers of you haunt me,
when they appear;
no respect, no caution, no fear,
physically easy to run,
to stay away,
mentally its a strain,
its been the longest time,
since i saw you last,
time is irrelevant,
slow or fast,
i carry the burden,
like a secret shame,
i cant let you into my life again
your not a part of me now,
you may never be again,
let me live my life,
allow me closure,
stay gone.
i’ll convince myself,
more so,
as each day passes,
that i’m better without you,
and that what he had wasn’t true.
“do you ever wake up reaching out for me” 24/10/2009
He lay in bed, content and happy after the night out they just had, it had been an entertaining evening and he had enjoyed laughing and joking with her friends. They were both now back to their home, ready for bed. The door to the bathroom was ajar and every now and then he could glimpse her, he could hear her brushing her teeth, and occasionally words would break through the brush strokes; ”babe, it hasn’t been 7 years, it’s been two minutes!”.
He smiled to himself as he teased her for taking so long, it had only been two minutes, in fact it had been less,
but he already missed her touch and already longed to hold her again. He couldn’t make sense without her being there, he needed her, he looked forward to just laying with her, rubbing noses while they talked about anything and everything.
Several years later she finally came out of the bathroom and sat at the end of the bed, smiling as she did so. In the moments he had waited for her, the long day and excitement of the evening had caught up with him, he felt completely relaxed, he kept on disappearing in to momentary micro sleep and woke to see her smile beaming intermittently through his eyelids into his dream scape. She rubbed his aching feet and sent him in to deep relaxation, straight to sleep.
He jolted out of sleep grasping frantically for her in the moonlit room. Something in his dream gave him a feeling of panic, a sense of urgency, he pulled her near and held her so tightly. It felt as though she was about to be forcibly removed, taken away from him, he from her. It felt as though her life was hanging precariously in the balance as she teetered precariously over the cliff edge. Like he had an initial strong grip on her hand but now, he had started to lose grip, as she was slipping and edging away, up until the last agonising moment of contact where the tip of her finger and the tip of his threatened to break contact forever.
She looked into his eyes and saw the panic in his face. She kissed the uncertainty away, she embraced his fears. He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, her face, he rested his forehead against hers as they both held each other tight. He told her “I thought I’d lost you”. She understood, she lost herself in him, she knew he would never hurt her, never drop her. He understood, he lost himself in her and knew he would never let her go.
the lip curl (stunned in to submission) 24/10/2009
she threw her head back,
burying the back of her head in to the pillow,
arching her back,
looking up at the ceiling,
her eyes rolled and her eyelids flickered,
as she did so he caught sight of her lips,
they were spread slightly apart,
her top lip assumed the most incredible position,
it curled in to the most evocative pout he had ever seen,
it drew his gaze to the expression in her eyes,
there he was stunned,
at the depth of emotion in her furrowed brows,
the profusion of sensation;
that battled to be recognised,
through their only avenue of communication,
her face,
how could such a small canvas contain it all;
the passion of the artist, the brush strokes, the colour, the depth,
he was transfixed at the picture he beheld,
he wanted to slow it down,
to listen and feel,
he wanted to savour every sensation,
to listen for every nerve firing, every pulse, every twitch,
in every muscle,
they lay there together stuck in time,
their heartbeats, breathing, soul’s locked.
put a spell on you 24/10/2009
I saw you,
I noticed you,
as you passed by,
for a second,
I almost lost you in the crowd,
I willed you to look where I stood,
as if you did,
I could then approach you,
and then we could talk,
and if it went well,
tomorrow we could talk again,
and I’d learn – by getting to know you,
what it would take to make you smile,
I’d listen to you,
I’d mentally note everything you ever said,
and when you weren’t there,
in the time in between,
I’d play our conversation back in my head,
as I would feel alone,
but until you stop,
for now I’ll watch,
as you pass me by,
until you notice me,
each time,
I’ll exhale slowly and sigh.
“when I’m weak, I draw strength from you” 24/10/2009
she sat on the chair next to me,
my head dropped on to her shoulder,
my eyes closed,
my breath slowed,
her soft skin soothed my stresses away,
I blended in to her body,
I didn’t want to leave,
I didn’t feel weak as I had done before,
I felt safe yet strong,
I felt at home,
It felt as though she existed only for me,
I sank in to her serenity,
into the sanctity;
of the security she gave me
words behind bars, poem from prison, the rose that grew from concrete 16/10/2009
A poem written by the writer whilst he was incarcerated. This poem left me in awe.
Isolated in my cell, that’s right all by myself,
no-one to watch over me in sickness or in health,
going by slowly; the days, weeks, the months, the years,
I refuse to cry, there’s no-one to dry my tears,
but ignore the sorrow and madness takes over,
you start losing control, as if your not sober,
you’re drunk on the acid that runs through your veins,
on the poison created in your mind, your brain,
trying ever so hard to remain sane,
there’s invisible forces playing with me, mind games,
I see a whole lot of faces that I know are not there,
I try and converse, in return they just stand and stare,
and when I turn the lights off its like I’ve been buried alive,
which is true in a way because to the world, i’ve died.
When I go to sleep I’m like a knight in armour,
with sword and shield,
riding horseback for the battlefield,
because the images my mind conjures up in a deep sleep,
are my biggest enemies which I cannot defeat.
In my dreams my mind is always making death threats,
I wake up in my bed drenched in cold sweat,
I dream that my soul is travelling the world,
watching God’s creations, oceans and waterfalls.
Gazing in to the night sky, watching the moon and stars,
constantly aware that i’m trapped behind bars,
In my cell where the walls pulsate, they breathe my name,
I’m trapped inside them just like my mind in my skeletal frame,
my head is full of evil sins and bad deeds,
and just like bacteria it grows, it breeds,
it multiplies by two as time goes by,
growing in numbers, in strength and in size,
but my mind is mine, why doesn’t it do as it’s told?
it’s like my minds developed a mind of its own,
I’m always battling with it, to keep it under control,
it’s decided by itself to go to self destruct mode,
ready to explode, and I’ll only know my fate as the story unfolds.
I can’t predict the future, I can’t tell my fate,
and I’ll never know what’s in store, until it’s too late.
By Ni-Jack.
icky girls + my experience of women up until the age of 15 and a half + obscure movie references 15/10/2009
Icky Girls
I’ve always thought about what my experiences with girls (and indeed women) as a child, boy, teen and man has had on me growing up (if that ever happens for us guys). And the effect this still has on my life. I don’t really know what I wanted to do with this but I know for a couple of weeks I wanted to write.
So here it is; a selection of experiences; importantly the one’s that make me smile. I started writing and the rest is the stream of consciousness that followed. It made me realise a lot about my life with the benefit of hindsight!
So, if you’ll allow me, I’d like to make sense of my understanding of girls as a therapeutic exercise and really, I would like to blame many people, everyone else but myself. Firstly though, I’d like to blame Bollywood, Hollywood, Music and importantly immaturity, oh and parents (I know it’s not really their fault but it makes me feel better, and the likelihood that they’re gonna read this is zero – so ha!)
Fatal Attraction
When you’re younger it’s a feeling that’s so simple. Take me for example, the first time I realised that I liked a girl (that means ‘like’ as in fascinated and I want to be next to you; because we’re having the type of fun that for some reason didn’t happen in all male social circles) was when I was around 5 or 6. Yes ridiculously young (it actually started earlier but that wasn’t fun or exciting).
Runaway Bride
We had just left class for the lunch time break – it was on the school field (not the front car park) as it was summer time. Then this girl who I’ve never even talked to before pushes me – for no reason! So I chase her (what was I going to do when I caught her I don’t know, I hoped she wouldn’t slow down) We continued the epic chase, I stopped chasing and remember that she chased me. At first I ran like my life depended on it. Then I slowed down because really I wanted to be caught, and then I remember letting her push me over to the floor and pinning my arms down. And you can guess what happened next!……I closed my eyes…..and she spat on me!
Now, that wasn’t what I expected, if Bollywood taught me anything (or from what I could understand as a 6 year old) She was supposed to kiss me, or you know give me an innocent peck on the cheek then we should have shared a momentary glance of love and then a dramatic look away borne out of conflict because we were from warring families or from different castes or class. But that didn’t happen. (I knew there were problems ever since we first met twenty minutes earlier, in fact when she pushed me I knew she didn’t really mean it. Maybe she wanted to push someone else and I just happened to walk in to the path of cupid’s arrow by mistake. Maybe she had pushed someone the day before and she just felt like getting over her recent ‘relationship breakdown’ by pushing me, you know getting back on the wagon or whatever the expression is, me being her rebound push)
Castaway
After bearing the scars for many years I think I was 8 and at a new school (fate must have played a part in removing me from my troubled love life) I immersed myself in to my vocation at the time. I read as many Asterix books as I could find in the library, ticking off the pictures on the back cover as I did so, I read spy books (I always wanted to be a spy) and I obsessed over the way of the Ninja. I was generally a child whenever I didn’t have other pressing matters. Anyway, Garfield books and my life work of drawing spaceships weren’t going to finish themselves. (My proudest spaceship was the one with a tractor beam, I remember drawing it now in class as the teacher talked about something or other and I passionately perfecting the lines on the squared paper. What was the tractor beam reeling in? A briefcase of course. At that time it made perfect sense, now that I think about it a brief case seems a little out of place in the far reaches of space.
Where was I? Right,
Never been kissed
The ‘official’ first kiss was with my girlfriend at the time. Let’s call her Loretta (sounds much more glamorous and foreign than it was but it’s only because she reminds of a mouse due to her teeth, and I’m sure there was a mouse in a Garfield book I was reading at the time) We ‘went out together’ (at that age going out with someone was great as it never involved any going out), for a week. I think. I told her that I had a present for her (things really don’t change as men get older do they, oh god) and I kissed her on the lips and ran away. In hindsight this may have turned out completely differently as technically, that was an assault of some description (I hope she forgives me and legally I think it’s too late for a conviction.)
Love actually
Rapunzel. I remember looking at her long blonde hair; growing up watching Bollywood and being an Asian male teaches us that only long hair is attractive. It took many years to break the programming and stereotypical behaviours and ideals that I had picked up. I remember thinking oh my god she’s so pretty and falling for her straightaway, my life experience was limited at that point so I hadn’t learnt the finer aspects of lust, flings, rebounds, fatal attraction and the other shades that colour this area! So it was love or not love (and she played the flute, I thought that was amazing). She had a great smile and I started work straightaway by pretending not to like her (again no change for men everywhere – “don’t signal intent! It’s too obvious!”).
UB40
Brianna. We stayed at their house for around 2-3 weeks in the summer. This was probably around 8 ish I would think. I remember when we first met her mum told her to take me to the park (we were the eldest kids so we could go on our own) She asked me about school and friends, I asked her – we seemed to have a very grown up conversation. I remember we liked each other as the days went by and that we spent every minute together playing. She was so much fun and I remember thinking that I was going to miss her terribly when my dad turned up in his dark blue Nissan bluebird (he’s had 3 of them to date)
Notting Hill
Cinderella. Eventually as the seasons passed (I think I was in Year 5 so I would have been around 9-10ish) I found myself at the perfect time and place to ask her. It was genius, I had to return a book that I borrowed from her and that involved me going to her house (god do guys do nothing original?!) So I put on my favourite outfit which I had received as a present from my uncle and auntie when they came to visit (all of my clothes were presents at that age, well the good ones, my dad insisted on me buying all my clothes from one department store, John Lewis, the same shop, time after time, year after year.) I walked that final bit to her house, in my green jeans and green shirt and my side parting and my white trainers in the summer, boiling hot, in need of a drink, thinking I should have cycled. And when I got there – there were other people there! from our class! This was the first social environment I had been in, I didn’t plan for this, I was just thrown in. We watched T.V, ate crisps, played in the garden and when the guys were having ‘man time’ us men folk messed around on the electronic keyboard and attempted to play pool (the table was a little high).
Cinderella part 2
I remember everyone had left leaving only me and her. We talked and we realised that yes, we liked each other, this was meant to be and that she was amazed as she never even knew that I liked her, and I was shocked because I never thought that I even had a chance. And then we both decided to ‘go out together’ (but clearly not go out anywhere as we were 9-10, come on!) And then I said I need to use your phone, “it’s nearly 8 o’clock, it’s dark outside, my mum’s gonna kill me!” I walked home avoiding all main roads (in case dad saw me and killed me first) and snuck in to the house telling mum that I had been at the restaurant; this was the one anomaly, the only place where time of day or night was irrelevant.
When Hari met Sally (see what I did?!)
So I remember sitting in year 7 (this was the top of the food chain, we were 11-12 and ready for secondary school in a year, we acted like mini teenagers as we had homework) and somehow ‘going out’ with erm lets call her Sally. Sally made me happy, she made me smile, she made me laugh and I got on with her like no-one before. I don’t know why we broke up or how we got together but I remember (I’m sorry Sally and God) my girl and male friends telling me that I could do better (little did I know how many times this piece of advice would surface and haunt me over the next lifetime) So I finished with her after school, convinced that I could do better and that as a 12 year old man I deserved better god damn it! That evening, I missed her terribly and I knew I’d made an awful mistake, I called her at home, she was at her sisters – I called her sisters and I told her “I miss you, I made a terrible mistake, lets ‘go out’ again!” she laughed and called me an idiot and we did, and we had fun.
American Pie
Cinderella girl would eventually scare the bejesus out of me. I innocently took the phone call one day in my mum and dad’s bedroom and she told me that she wanted to ‘go further’. Being only 12 and not even a teenager I was overcome with shock, horror and absolute fear. I smoothly with a slick response responded back to her request to go further with; “what?! touching?!!” I was scared. I’m sure that even if she did want to go further any thing that she had ever dreamed of up until those fateful words were said would have disappeared! I thought I was going to die. It was the second most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to me! I eventually thought of an escape and told her that as we were going to different schools we could no longer see each other regularly we should break up, so we did. Phew.
High School Musical
Prior to secondary school, girls were always something that me and my best mate were interested in, and we talked about openly. But then I got to secondary school. At 13 I found that my new best mate and I wouldn’t openly admit to each other which girls we did or did not like. In fact it even seemed completely unnatural a proposition at that age for some of the guys to even touch a girl out of choice in any context, the dreaded ‘lurgy’ had clearly been a battle many pre-pubescent boys had fallen prey to.
Some boys even reacted with furious anger and great vengeance at any suggestion of liking a girl and conversely at any suggestion of being gay! It’s weird now that I think about it as the constant ribbing you would get if your mates knew that you liked a girl would make you cannon fodder. Imagine them broadcasting your insecure childish desires to the whole school for moral and aesthetic judgement.
The Lady and the Tramp
Mellissa. I remember being in English class, looking across the room and seeing her. She was pretty too and it made me happy to be near her. My friends dared me to ask her out (actually I had engineered this in a stroke of genius, I started the ‘dare game’ and eventually I said “I bet you guys wouldn’t ask someone out”; I knew they’d bounce it back to me immediately) so I went over and asked her, and she said yes (my heart jumped) and that was it. Secondary school had started well. I must admit, I found it strange going out with a girl that didn’t like Mcdonald’s and Coke but liked sandwiches and water (I remember telling my friend we’d never work because she was the poshest girl in the world.).
Love actually
Aside from a few flings in between after many years of going crazy; you know the spiral of decline; drinking milkshakes and fizzy drinks with no real regard for my health or well being. Abusing chocolates, sweets and once even trying to smoke a cigarette (but I just couldn’t understand it, it made you cough and tasted horrible) that was it, everything that was on my mind. Oh and I’m sorry for what you’re about to read;
The Lady and the Tramp part 2
This will haunt me for the rest of my life and I would like to make peace with er Mellissa right now. I’m sorry, I know we were 12 and I apologised when we were 13,14,15,16 and 19. Possibly 17 and 18 but I don’t think so as you had a boyfriend. I dumped Mellissa after hugging her in the classroom at break (with her friends there who said “aaah you two are so sweet together”) by putting my head round the door and saying “your dumped”. My mates had dared me. I felt awful. Peer pressure gone wrong. I was too embarrassed to go back. Mellissa is married now and extremely happy and excels in her work. Thank god. That’s not to suggest that I was that influential in her life that it would impact and resonate forever BUT that’s how big a deal it was for me and how ‘not nice’ it was to know I had done that. Phew.
This is pretty much it, me before 15, the ones that mattered anyway. The rest I’m sure will follow some day.
scribbles in the sand 07/10/2009
and smash down the walls.
