Myrrah

It was a Friday night. March 23, 2012 in Mumbai. Myrrah was about to turn 23. A pretty young lady who had a scripted life so far. All that she touched ever turned Gold. Born to a Rich Business Owner, You could say she was one of those born with a Silver spoon, if not a Golden one. Myrrah stood there on the window of her 10th floor apartment. Her family was out for vacation. Well Myrrah was used to spending most of her birthdays alone. In fact, most of her usual life as well.

It was a fairly large house for those days. 3 Bedrooms , 1 for each member of the family and a large dining room and Kitchen, 2 Toilets other than the one in individual rooms. One for EACH. Mom, Dad and Myrrah.You could say it was a dream for most people to think about such houses. Mumbai was growing up to become a serious competition to worlds largest Metros. It had the juvenile exuberance of a 20 something raging youngster who is itching to experience the higher pleasures of life in every sense of it. The time when you are raring to do great at work, break out of the old school family traditions, hang out with "cool" friends, lots of sex, drugs and booze. One could be forgiven to think Myrrah had a similar life style. NOT. For she was the Yan for all those Yins out there. Mumbai women had really come out of the closet and started to express themselves freely.

Myrrah was the type who liked to be on her own. Not that she felt she was superior because of being blessed with a fortunate life. But because she felt she didn't belong anywhere. A hollow feeling through her soul sucked her emotions in like a black hole. For a 23 year old she was cold as ice. A Lady of good taste who loved her wine and music. She was working towards getting signed up with a record label to get out of that house which "A Business Man" owned in her own words. She was edgy and looking to break free. Her room carried her attitude. "You win some and you lose some." "Life is never really fair, Fuck whoever who said it is". Those two messages engraved on a rock hung in Myrrah's room. Her room was painted in white with murals of Shiva painted on all walls in different poses. But there was one thing common, An open third eye. It was intentional. Myrrah had Painted those murals.

Myrrah stood there on the window with her glass of wine a Fratelli Sauvignon Blanc. Her Favorite. She had just got out of shower. The moon light touching her window and illuminating her room just enough. All you could see is the silhouette of a Sexy 23 year old in a Backless evening dress. The kind of gorgeous women you would call "Greek Goddesses" or Even "Nymphs". The most beautiful women ever in Greek Mythology. Her White dress only added to that setting. It was long evening gown and back less. The kinds you would wear to Oscars. Myrrah loved to dress up for herself. She had Her favorite music playing at the back ground. some classical western music she usually danced to. It was 11 minutes past 1 already and Myrrah had started to dance. It was something Myrrah did every day since she remembered. Dancing at 11 past 1. No body knew why And No body bothered.

"Tonight is special" Myrrah told herself and led her hand forward and walked out of the window. All she left for her parents was a Polaroid picture of her kissing the air. The Picture read "Dastaan and Me- Happily Married"

Wander Lust 2- Nomad Warrior

Jacob was a young man. Free willed. Free Spirited. Did everything he liked. The one thing he never did was to hurt another human being but for his mother and wife. His mother knew he was a divine soul but a flawed genius he was. And his wife knew, Her husband was the source of envy for many other women.

There was something about Jacob that attracted everyone to him but at the same time, there was this air of reverence, fear and respect too. One that kept people from telling him how much they appreciated him. As if they were in a state of trance looking at that free spirit. Everybody wanted to be him but knew they could not get half as close. Every mother wanted a son like him, but for his mother. Every single woman wanted to feel him deep within.

He played with kids, talked to the sea, conversed with the animals and was innocent as babies could be. Jacob was one of the last of his kinds. A Nomad Warrior. The kinds that travelled to protect people they didn't know, they didn't care if they died in the process. His father had died in protecting a tribe like that and Jacob was the last of this league. His bruised back, Broad Shoulders, Tanned Arms and that scar on his face were all testimony to the fights he had fought for others. Fights he didn't really need, fights that didn't really do him any good but he still fought them. For he was a guy that stood for justice, for truth, for what he deemed right. Being Manipulated was what he despised, Manipulating someone else was sinister to him. Defeating a guy like Jacob was improbable. He could kill with a cold stare or his bare hands. Death was not really something he feared.

He was a warrior that travelled throughout his life. It was just another journey for him But it changed her life forever. After a hard fought battle, he sat there on the beach. Enjoying the sunset and basking in the glory of yet another victory, when his eyes fell on that beautiful blind woman. She was standing right there looking at the sunset. Her hair dancing in the wind. Without a second thought, Jacob walked up to her and held her hands. Nobody around them seemed to bother. For they were all mesmerized by the sight of their Blind Princess Sophia and this stranger who matched up to her Aura. Sophia was 17 then. There was something about Jacob, when he held her hand, All Sophia could feel was a sudden rush flow through her body. Every ounce of skin on her and every drop of blood wanted her to Feel Jacob. Jacob too was in awe of this tender 17 year old girl who had managed to breach the cordons of his heart instantly.

Sophia asked no question, And Jacob never said a word but they made deep passionate love all night. And the next morning, before she woke up, he was gone. He had to fight so many more wars, save so many more lives. He kissed her forehead and left the palace. Never to be seen again.

Nobody ever saw him again. Not even Sophia. Well she never really saw him did she? But she had felt him like no one else had ever! And to this day, her hollow eyes look for him everyday in hope that he would one day return. All she remembers of him was the mystical feeling he left her with which she tries to find in every man that comes to her.

Wander Lust

She stood there on the beach. Her skin soaked in the salty waters. Everybody there couldn't figure out what was more beautiful..Sophia or the sunset. Sophia sure was as Gorgeous as they get. The Types that will steal your soul and possess it and let your mortal selves be alleviated. She had a reputation. Which one never spoke about but everyone some how knew.

She had devoured many a man but never did any of them ever feel deceived. They all knew what they would get. Or did they? For each one had a story to tell, but one thing remained. The feeling of sheer liberation they all felt. As if they had touched an elevated soul. Their wives knew they had been to Sophia but they never complained either.

The one thing Sophia was not, was a Prostitute. For she never slept with men for money or for Kind. Sophia was rich enough to live all her life without having to worry about money. Afterall she was the Princess of the city. Still she remained single. Many a befitting Princes tried to woo her but all was in vain. All she wanted in life was to touch as many souls as she could and she chose the best possible way. All she asked was that if the Men went to her, they had to admit this to their wives. Yes. Only Married men were what Sophia liked to "Heal" according to what people said.

Truth be told, that all the men that did go to Sophia had changed for good. Sophia had bettered them in some way. The reason to this, unknown, unfound. But May be it was their search for unbounded lust that was quenched by Sophia. Or May be they could never ever be close enough to quench her search for lust.

Story of a lonely son

I held his hand and walked along

No fear whatsoever                                                                                    

In him I always bestowed upon

My trust which was blind

He took me places and taught me things

Showed me the meaning of emotions within

He taught me to love and live in peace

He cried and worried even if I would sneeze

I didn’t know who he was and why he cared

They told me he was my dad.

I never understood what that meant

And found his love too cagey

I fought with him as I grew

Hurting his heart and shredding it through

He never complained and kept his faith

He believed his son could never go bad

His trust in me was never ending

And with him I kept fighting

Over the years, I realized how much I loved him

But it was not until I had lost him

I didn’t realize what I had lost

He took with him a friend, philosopher and guide

Now I wish he would come back to me

I would love him and express it free

One thing in his lifetime I could never do

To tell him how much I loved him true

I wish I had said it before                             

Dad I love you and now I wish you were here