hindsight.

hindsight = a powerful teacher as all of life gets revealed and you just finally get it.

so it has been ages since i wrote last.
i lost my beloved green friend May 28, 2011.
that floored me.

i went through the motions of living my life. but the essence of my existence that was HRH IggySingh got reduced to nothing other than sequential steps that earned me a daily wage, made my Mom stop worrying about me, and got me up and about like a normal human being.

the components of my happy soul = my daily routine of waking her up, and singing to her, bathing and playing with her, worrying about the weather for the day, intensely praying for big blue skies and an iguana-sunshiny day, her gentle sneezes that would lift the deepest corners of my heart into the most genuine warmth, the head bobbing, and dewlap flaring, the way her eyes would follow me around a room, the way she would scratch at the cushions whenever she turned in her sleep, her waiting for me to cajole her into eating, her walkabouts as she explored the same floor space with the fresh spirits of new possible adventures in the making, her acquiescing to sit on my lap so i could cuddle with her, her rewarding me with laying her face against my heart beat, hugging me while i told her how blessed and lucky i was to have her.

all gone.

and it took months and months of brain numbing activities to finally be able to talk and write about her without collapsing into a puddle of liquid. so here's an ode to my green friend. you came into my life so unexpectedly and shared 8 wonderful years of love, life, laughter and tears with me. never once were you judgemental and you never held a grudge even when i felt i could have done better. and for all it is worth, i still look into the corners of our sitting room, hoping to see you get up to greet me.

2011.

it continues being a great start to the year. i spent 11 days with my beautiful parents, and had the best Xmas and New Year's ever. they were so welcoming of my green iguana, it touched me to my core. and then i came home to wonderful clients.

back again up North, on the 3rd. and i am so looking forward to it. i hope 2011 and the upcoming year of the rabbit is a happy, ang-filled one, with lots of individual and group prosperity, excellent health, and many loving moments.

God Bless, one and all. and i welcome love into my life this year. i am ready.

so when one hopes?

does it ever come true? the one i dream of... did he exist, even then? and will he never appear again? or is it of a future unrealistic state that i envisioned?

it used to be that i wished upon God and all the stars for a man that would be just mine. brave and strong. loving and dependable. like the Heathcliff of old, passionate and enduring.

and now, i wish for hot days, and pure sunshine, for my green friend :)

crossroads...

just when i am on a roll, i am back here, wondering about my career all over again. although this time it is relatively drama free, as in "i" decide, still to have to make a decision again so soon.

side-bar: so i found all the letters that "Khalil Gibran" wrote to me when i was sequestered at Uni. volumes worth, they were racy, sweet, poignant, witty and most of all, highly welcomed. we didn't even so much as kiss, yet the sudden invocation of that 1mysterious summer... worth a bottle of your finest malt.

i just want the universe to know, demon free, i have lost my edginess, and hence my fetish for writing about the dark. gimme a niche already??

lelia awakened...

she had been asleep for hundreds of years. and then finally she had been awakened. to her surprise a mortal man had come for her. he was tall and lean, and hard in his muscle tone, yet she sensed a great vulnerability in his approach towards her. his mere touch awakened the yearnings that had lived deep within her belly. she remembered what it was like to be a mortal woman.

she shook her head gently, confused and trying to remember. her deep slumber had been induced by her new father, Ismay. when she had been unable to assimilate the yearnings that the night brought on, and her conscience did nothing to dissipate her kills, as it had naturally happened in her makers and their brethren. instead she had felt the guilt of taking a life almost as immediately as the gratification of feeding on the mortal.

she had tried to keep to the untouchables. the ones that even the priests would not bless. those that swept the streets, and lived in the shadows, the ones suffered the poverty of having no status in a cruel society, the ones that embraced death, as it would start their kharmatic cycles yet again, and hopefully to a better place. yet with each fresh feed, with each mortal she exterminated, that last heartbeat caught deep within her throat chocking her, and it resonated in her soul, and she found herself wandering for days at end after carrying the burden of their deaths, inviting the final death for herself as she grew slowly insane.

that is how her new father had found her, sitting in the streets of Calcutta, awaiting the morning sun, ready to embrace her final death, and he had to use every ounce of his inhuman strength to subdue her and to house her secretly in the labyrinths he knew would be untouched for the next centuries to come.

her new father visited her often, ensuring her capture was inescapable. he kept her well fed, and eventually he gave in to her howling demands of feeding on animals only. she slipped peacefully into a routine of survival then, salving her mind with the justifications that they were not human kills, and that men were safe from her.

and now this man, he stood before her in the great moon. he was magnificent. his chiseled features, his warm torso. he rolled her out of her chains without flinching, and at last she was free from her silver shackles. she stood up slowly, savouring the feel of being on her feet. she stretched luxuriously, feeling every bone in her back, and then Lelia blinked carefully into the soft glow of the candle light.

"what brings to you here, and to awaken me..." Lelia drawled, fascinated.

~a fictional piece by amreeth~

paid my bills...

in a short 30 minutes this morning, and loving it! i actually am breaking "even" and God knows how i have waited for this moment.
hence the struggle to keep away from that credit card binge i can feel in the pit of my stomach, every time i think of that pink Brietling.

onto other matters... i am soo looking forward to tomorrow morning and to starting my day and to heading out to visit my dear dear friends. i know that we are truly the cluster of souls that God put together, with careful consideration, and i look forward to the continued healing.

and to jump again... i am thinking of that novel, the one that has lurked just behind my membrane, all these decades, just waiting to be discovered and to be fleshed out. to be introduced to the endless minds and imaginations of like souls. imagine what it would be like. to finally get published.

i think though, the one constant genre that i could really produce, would have to be under a strict pseudonym if i stick to it... imagine the familia reading my erotica? hmmmm!!! but then again, maybe i have lost that slant altogether and may have to reinvent myself.

exciting, the possibilities...

one sided...

it is amazing how i have carried around a one-sided love affair for well over a decade now. my backbone of who he will be, the one, has completely washed out of any future life choices i may make now.

i have carried around this image of love, and of his face, and have chapters dedicated to how my soul mate will find me and how i will find him right back. and now, it has all come down to romantic love being just a fantasy.

my Dad was right. in life, you can't just wait for the fireworks to light up your sky to know for sure, and to get the move on. maybe there just aren't the fireworks to begin with, and that Bollywood has killed the real life opportunities that i have dismissed, waiting for these unrealistic signs. i know that Dad probably meant the magic will be in your heart, but if you get too busy looking up at the sky for the brilliance, you may miss the murmurs of their exploding deep within.

i think that one can hope with all one's heart and soul, and kiss all the frogs in the world, and yet the prince you imagined would be holding your hand at 42, he still sits in the romantic comedies you DVD, always a tissue box away.

real life heroes, they just don't dance like Shahrukh Khan, or flash their pearly whites like Matthew Mcconaughey, or flex their rain soaked muscles like John Abraham...