Love love and love!κappa

Well, I had realised long back, love was not for me, reason-
I was too busy climbing trees, mountains, scaring & chasing fishes & meows.
I had bruises and a bleeding heart for all whom I lost were dear to me, and even when I sit alone, a tear or two trickles down me. I was broken.
If love was actually there, why did it not be when I needed the most, why those hands left me which I treasured the most.
I decided love was not for me, so I grew up loving me, learning all skills to survive in the hard strong mountain breeze,
in the snow, in the dimness and splendid white lightness of the mountains I now called home, if I did not make it good in the world.
I then came to know about degrees, my zongpa told me, they could help me too, to fetch a few bucks.
I did that too.

“One day, you might be the ones taking care of some such kids like me, or return to the world, find your home, find your man, and never turn again to us,” he said.

” All I want is happiness for anyone who touches my small boat.”

He threw me out in the snow, “learn strength, learn all that it takes to survive here. Come back only if you end up a failure, alone or lonely, broken more, beyond repair.”

He closed the door, I was five, I waited until my mother took me in her arms again.

But, kept on being naughty, to an extent that I began being like a shadow.
Each hand which was once there, slowly withered or vanished as though they were sands on my fragile skin.
I lost hope, took a job, I knew since the first I could not do it all my life, I waited, because I was in a new big city and life was more chaotic.
I tried being a part of the chaos, tried learning it,
but a girl who usually went well with everyone, making others laugh,
seeing others happy as it seemed at one time to be her one of the many hobbies, seemed so lost.
I was more lost than ever, ended up not making a single friend, telling no, seemed hard in this world.
I realised here in the garbs of this city that I was a woman, had never felt it till.

But, when I met him, I thought maybe that is why I was made to realise my gender? may be!!!
False people, false emotions, I was tired, ready to quit.
It was so hard, even if I did not like a man, and I said no, yet I was not heard, yet, I had to feign and take a long route to a simple “no.”
I could never say that I was not interested in men here, I found no true eyes, no true souls.
Just, when I had made up my mind, I was about to quit to return to the wilderness,
I had to go out of the city for my mother to meet a doctor.
Just, when I had planned the mountains, I met this face, I felt I knew long just at the first meet.
It was a ridiculous idea for me, one who, was so well trained to move alone, could even think this? I thought to me.
I negated it, with a waver of my hand, and I met him again and again, and each time my heart grew fonder.
I began missing him, I was so shocked at this, I had stopped myself missing long.
My heart beat ran high, every symptom appeared like those I saw in friends long gone.
I am still thinking of moving to the mountains, but now I am like a pendulum, wavering back to that point where I yearn to see him once at least in the day.
Could it be true, could such a beautiful thing happen to me, or was it a dream, a conjuring or a yearning of a heart which has been damaged by the years of madness it survived.
Trying to live, trying to not let people go away, trying to fight every point, trying to hope,
False relations, false people, false destinations, mirages, what little faith remained was killed by the city, I came to find hope.
Should or rather, could I dare to dream again, or was it a mirage that would just prove to be so?
Was it the final stone to knock me rock bottom, was it the one with which I would know pain completely.
Because it has always been pain that completed me and not joy ever.
Saved by an old alchemist, another grand dad who could not see a child in pain, who taught my Heart to turn pain to joy, and sadness to happiness, the one I met in one of my vagabond trips.
Is he an answer, I still don’t know, I am waiting to know.
But with this little hope, I seemed to be alive again, now I did not know what to do with my little hope?
So, I though of focussing on what I could do to earn a living in a way I deemed fit.
I still think of the mountains and if we are ever together, I would ask him if I could ever visit lands, I long left, if he would let me climb again?
If he wants to join me, I would hold his hand and walk close.
Till then, I would try to earn to provide for people I consider my own,
I hope only, to make it happen. Because, after years of practicing self conversion of energies from one form to another, I finally met the one, I waited long for, I finally did not have to transmutate.
Joy arose on its own or came from him I did not know.
I wanted to stay close to him, work something that could give me the space to be with him, be with my loved ones.
Only to leave him and my loved ones, at times, only for the mountains, if he and my chosen few did not wish to run with me to them always.
I want to look and feel normal again, I want to stop, I want to stop romanticising pain, want to think it to be normal.
I want it all to last till the very end! But, got to wait to see if it is a joke or a brute effort of some brutal force to break me down further.
If so I need to still hold the post strong, ready to be bruised more till death finally sets me free rather.
I got to see, I wish all my sceptical thoughts melt to nothing one day if he chooses to walk in, will he? why would he?
If he doesn’t, I need to sigh, nod my head, transmutate the sorrow to joy again, and move on, to be the captain of my ship further in guffawing at the creator.
Hope…Love…hard to hope..easy to love…