18 Mar 2011

where do you go?

She stood in front of him, naked, stark naked.

Without clothes, without masks, without hallucinations, without a single thought running in her mind.
She stood naked in front of him, stark naked.

She had always been too much to take, too pretty to look at. Too large to grasp onto, too plain to be gorgeous, too complicated to understand.

She had always been like this, always naïve, clinging on to him with all her force, yet, somehow she was far, far away from him.

There she was, naked, in her true form, in front of him.

She had always been like that; she came too strong on him. She told him how obsessed she was with him. How fascinated she was with his lips, she was jealous of the cutlery he used, she had once told him.  She was vulnerable as a child; she got hurt, made a face and walked away, not once, many times over. She had done that. Yet, she always managed to find her way back. Unlike other 3 month wonders she had lasted. He was not sure how, he never asked her to leave neither forced her to stay.

There was no way back, she knew. He had made it clear to her, he knew that she knew. 
He called her stupid. Yet, deep down he was scared, scared of the strength she had. 

She could destroy him.

Somehow he knew she wouldn't, it was not his destruction instead her annihilation that he was afraid of.  

She stood there naked;

She had given him more than he had ever asked for. More than he wanted, more than he could take. He was guilty. 
Guilty for his un-acceptance of her; guilty for the atrocities she meted out on her identities.
He kept standing, sitting, resting, covering up yet never moving.
She asked a lot of questions. Everything about her asked him questions.
He didn’t know answers to them himself; some he just didn’t want to answer.

She was persistent.

He wasn’t helping.

He wished she would just stay, not ask questions, just let time flow, and not rush.
He wished she would let him be. 
Let him understand himself first; let him know where he stands before he could tell her where she stood in his life.
Let him make up his mind,gather enough strength to let her go; enough strength to let him cut loose off her.

She stood there naked in front of him, she scared him.
He finally held her, for he was afraid she would collapse.

She slept in his arms. He was awake. He kept wide awake. 

He keeps wide awake.



  1. how the fuk do u know wat we feel ...??
    tats the one thing i thot i had to my advantage tat i cud atleast pretend i was brave ...
    how the fuk do u know this ...

  2. i don think all gals know tat this is wat goes on in our minds if we haven realli made the move first
    they don know right tell me they don know

  3. Reminded me of a scene b/w Roark & Dominique in 'Fountainhead' . Strong , passionate , haunting. Nice.

  4. @amn: do i know?
    i dont know if everyone knows this.
    not too sure.

    @BA: =)

    @Mayank: wasn't Roark. For sure.Could be a Keating.

  5. Just the scene. The symbolism ... As for the guy - his weakness in understandin his n her strengths - point to Keating ofcourse.

  6. Had she been a fighter
    fought for right