Destination: Luxurious Decadence of Orgasmic Peace



So the year ends!  A lot … and I mean A LOT happened this year.

I traveled through geographies (continents really), traversing breathing taking vistas to world-views, 
feelings and realms – it wasn’t a roller coaster ride, No! 

More like sailing.  On steroids.

Time runs marathons. I stop. Panting doubled over – catching my breath – at the beauty and clutter of all of this. Life, as it happens. Each moment defining the next.

As we began this year - with exploring the impulsive moments; playing dress up for New Year’s Dinner Date and impromptu drive for a bite at Mumbai’s Mondegar – I told myself I would be more present. 

More showing up – less careful planning and my list here feels like a pat on the back – more or less. Because first time in years did not finish my Reading Challenge 

I did a highlights timeline of these 12 months and it literally just fills up one page and I know I could write a book if I wanted to. But. Am Lazy and well Am a Memory Hoarder.

I don’t yet want to put it all out.

This year for the first time - felt like it was mine!  My time. My mindfulness.
My growing into myself year

Tiger Heart and Swan Vulnerability. Nagging doubts and the bourgeois vanity.

Gratified in knowledge that I could set pulses racing and turn heads and be completely grounded. 
Content that I could get giddy with adrenaline for blood and not be jaded.

Blasting the walls of my comfort zone – the cocoon no longer served its purpose - I met some amazing new people and learnt the topographies of new stories. The way someone’s nose crinkles and the way someone else’s laugh lifts off and how one person’s eyes light up when they talk about their children and how the other one’s dances when they talk about their passion of wine and yachts and the shift in the air when someone wants to kiss you or is about to confess something silly.  The easy camaraderie of colleagues to tense awkwardness of dates. 

The realisation that the little things still move or outrage me, was humbling. It was heartening to know – I could still make mistakes – too trusting sometimes, cynical in other moments. It was lovely to connect with the core, which still believed in the larger good of humanity – with a pinch of salt, of course! J

It takes commitment to show up every day – to show up in time to work on the person one is. It takes every fiber of one’s being in taking up responsibility to connect and to be detached. 

In accepting the dark and the light – all at once.

And in the year to come - I vow: 

·       To be vulnerable and

·       To keep the core resilient
·       To Learn
·       To make the remainder of this life a work of art

And… even with broken heart, perhaps despite that

·       To believe in Love – because really, what else is there?


Adios, 2018! You were a sine wave. You were glorious.


Copyright © Neerja Yadav



Because...



my desire for you
grows your hunger,
blink the night away
in a mad dance of inertia
of slow building tempest,

the ink of the your touch
tattooed on my skin
the smell of you 
stuck in my head 

spell-laden eyes

break them or don't 
go ahead

here i am
hopelessly entangled
in your bed... 

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

d.é.j.à. v.u. - a window ajar is a prelude to the joy of being limitless

I once began a love affair with Roark, the unapologetic almost a scruff silent ‘masochist’ of a man. Ask my teenage self and then ask again my 20s and even 30s – the answer would still be a wide dewy eyed , bobbing head, clamped hands YES!

How does one get over that first throes of limerence? The first object that literally self explains the all mystical hidden meanings of Love?

The simple answer is one doesn’t!  And thus begins the undoing. 

The little things, the inconsequential, the arcane of tiny items.

It was early 2000s and all through the decade when my brain and self were mutating into an alien life form of itself.  The pull to star dust, the will to self destruct and conserve growing into their own beings together; friends even – all of this co-existed with negotiating a rising career, detached and destructive relationships all around; I was going through people unaware of them – unaware of the self, too

Have never had a chartered map for my direction of travel operating on tenets of intuition and doing the right thing in here and now.  I know where am I going – I just don’t ever know the route. A la Han Solo and his Millennium Falcon.

More so during that decade – decade which was a ringing resounding echo of loss,  of love, of  moments shining brilliant, of nights as long as nightmares, of  unadulterated joy of being kissed and abysmal hurt of being abused – of turning into a baser version of self and hating it.

And then I grew up relentlessly, unwittingly, despite it all. And I fought, fought hard to undo the ongoing ravaging of baser version to grow into a better one; fought hard to keep the faith and naiveté  - it was Fightclub times n.

No. Am just another girl next door who sees dimensions beyond the crowd.  

There is no Roark – there can't be ... Roark isn’t real – A game theory of Prisoner's Dilemma at work!

And there's more - always so much more left unsaid than said


Am not good at putting everything down - what am good at is algorithms and being a living fossil of memories. 



Note to Self: Stupid self deprecating humour almost always bomb. Enjoy the EOY Staycation! 




Copyright©Neerja Yadav

switching contexts

Pic Credit : Insta


 
“I guess that’s what saying good-bye is always like–like jumping off an edge. The worst part is making the choice to do it. Once you’re in the air, there’s nothing you can do but let go.” Lauren Oliver,  Before I Fall 

And just like that ... he left.  The deep honey brown eyes trying their best to get a read on me - and it took all of me to stay sane, stay dry-eyed - a hint of trickle threatening to ruin the veneer. 

I turn and I fled - shut that door. Something garrotes everything in me and I can barely manage to blink.  

Curled inside a love-made blanket with my feet tucked in I can feel my breath catch in my ribs.  I’m always close to tears, this week. 

The time is both luxury and limitation. 
I want all of it, this glorious mess called life and love. 

Do I dare dream?


Copyright©Neerja Yadav

vAmPIrE hEaRt


An empty page, coarse paper sheet, I pick up a graphite pencil. 

From fugue i find myself in this time and space. This zone. This could either be a beginning of creation or chaos. 

Like a dervish am both the whirlpool and getting sucked into another one. An off kilter flight, nose-diving here, near missing the Snow Mountains, there. 

It's a maze of clarity am lost in. 




The morning light filters through the white and blue sheer curtains painting zebra-stripes on the whites and the creams of the wall. I haven’t really slept a calm wink and yet I need these few minutes willing them into an hour at least… uninterrupted to be with myself! 

Pocketing these moments greedily. Contemplation, perception, a hungry conversation with self… a hunger for creation, the hunger for chaos, a hunger... insatiable. 

The house is humming with early morning snugness and sleepy sighs.

I would give anything for a perfectly normal average girl-next-door! And, stop these crazy loops, unintended. Falling off routine and everything else like on a slider… I always hated those sliders even as a kid… no control!

I let myself create the wildness on the paper, the incongruent images and lines, a few scattered sentences…

One day - am trying to get the sessile sustenance click with wilderness of my heart. 

One day - soon


Copyright © Neerja Yadav