the long search

When you have nowhere to go, go back to yourself.

The Storm Outside

I stood there just outside the gate and watched the storm beginning to rage. There was a strange sense of anticipation in the air which made me anxious; almost unmindful of the strong wind and the rain to follow.

I looked at the house for a moment and then searched for my cell phone in my jeans pocket.

“Would you open the doors?” I said when she picked up the phone.

“Oh! You are already here?” She asked, a tinge of surprise laced in her voice. She probably was not expecting me so soon.

I reached early, I told myself. All my life, I have been late though. I always had a strong feeling that I should have been born in the ‘50s but it too was delayed. By two decades, I think. Terrible.

“If it’s begun to rain, it must be me at your doors. I am the Rain Man, remember.” My reply smacked of my self-obsession.

I pushed open the gate and reached the porch. She was not there yet. I stood there in front of the main door. The creepers and climbers had grown longer on the wall, almost covering an entire side of the entrance gate. Soon I could feel little drops of rain on my body. Oh! It’s raining, finally. This has been such a long dry spell.

There was no sign of her yet. I stood there, looked up at the evening sky fast turning dark with clouds getting low. The wind was getting stronger, the rain drops bigger. I stood there waiting for her. Several minutes passed by. Several memories came rushing back.

“How long have you been here?” she suddenly appeared from inside the house.

I looked at her for a few moments. I looked at those deep dark eyes. “A little while ago,” I replied.

“Come on in,” she said.

For a second, I wished she had not showed up. It has been an age since I met her last. My yearning to see her, for a moment, appeared more powerful an emotion than that of the joy of meeting her.

I stepped forward leaving the storm raging outside.

I will meet you yet again

I will meet you yet again
How and where? I know not.
Perhaps I will become a
figment of your imagination
and maybe, spreading myself
in a mysterious line
on your canvas,
I will keep gazing at you.
Perhaps I will become a ray
of sunshine, to be
embraced by your colours.
I will paint myself on your canvas
I know not how and where –
but I will meet you for sure.
Maybe I will turn into a spring,
and rub the foaming
drops of water on your body,
and rest my coolness on
your burning skin.
I know nothing else
but that this life
will walk along with me.
When the body perishes,
all perishes;
but the threads of memory
are woven with enduring specks.
I will pick these particles,
weave the threads,
and I will meet you yet again…. Main Tenu Phir Milangi by Amrita Pritam


WarmSunshine 25 June 2009 at 16:53  

This is definitely not fiction :)

I loved the narration. Good one :)

Agnes 25 June 2009 at 17:54  

I like how you tell stories like these. I love the rain!

Who is "she" -- my curiosity is killing me!

Keshi 26 June 2009 at 08:39  

Loved it. Totally. WOW Im mesmerised by the way u neatly weave feelings into stellar writing.

I wonder who this SHE is though...:) lucky her!

**Maybe I will turn into a spring,
and rub the foaming
drops of water on your body,
and rest my coolness on
your burning skin.

That was too beautiful! I could almost 'feel' it happening to me, as I read it.

Nice image too Soul.


Talking To My Soul 26 June 2009 at 12:51  


Ah! How can you be so sure, Emm? May be I am good at fiction? What do you say ?

Thanks dear for the good words and for always arriving on this space.


Talking To My Soul 26 June 2009 at 12:58  


Heyyy thanks so much. But you got to be "alive" to know my story and allow all of us to read your great writing. This means Mr Curiosity can die.

I too love rain and it is finally raining here.


Talking To My Soul 26 June 2009 at 13:06  


Kesh, I am so glad you liked it. Thanks for those good words. But you are being far too generous, aren't you? All I try to do is keep it simple and I hope I manage to.

As regards the poetry, Amrita Pritam will always be one of India's finest poetesses. Her words are simply scintillating.

Thanks for always being here.


Trevor Penn 27 June 2009 at 00:49  

I have to echo the above sentiment. Just love the post. Brilliant!

Talking To My Soul 27 June 2009 at 17:10  


Thanks, mate. I am glad you liked it.

Thanks again.


REG 27 June 2009 at 18:38  

I would enjoy reading the next 299 pages of this story.

Talking To My Soul 28 June 2009 at 03:43  


That was almost hilarious. Next 299 pages of the story??? I wish I knew.

Thanks for remembering to drop by.


Kulpreet 28 June 2009 at 09:52  

Hey man, I am moved. This calls for a standing ovation. And I am standing. Also the picture is fascinating. It can win a competition if I a judge. Seriously! Can I use it for my next blog post. I will give you credit for it. Let me know. Cheers and God bless!

Talking To My Soul 28 June 2009 at 14:54  


Heyy Kulpreet, I am moved by your response, man. I really am. Thank you so very much arriving on this space and liking it.

About the picture, I found it from I am sure you too can use it. It's a great one.

Thanks again.


Kulpreet 28 June 2009 at 17:54  

It is indeed a great picture. Sorry, I though it was taken by you.
Will visit the site and download. And thanks for visiting. Take care!

Talking To My Soul 29 June 2009 at 03:41  


I wish I could take such pictures. But I will. Very soon.

You too take care and do return. Thanks.


Keshi 29 June 2009 at 07:17  

**But you are being far too generous, aren't you?

it comes from the work I read here...



Talking To My Soul 29 June 2009 at 10:40  


Flattered I am. And thanks.

How have you been MJ fan?


Keshi 30 June 2009 at 12:36  

Im good :) tnxx!

And u busy-bod?


Pine 30 June 2009 at 19:13  

"For a second, I wished she had not showed up.".....

wonder if the storm inside your body blew stronger than the storm outside.....

She must be very significant, whoever she is :)

Great writing!! Like it very much!!

renaye 30 June 2009 at 20:31  

i like the poem.

Talking To My Soul 30 June 2009 at 23:33  


Good, Kesh. I am no busy-bod? Just some work.


Talking To My Soul 30 June 2009 at 23:35  


Some storm it was, Pauline.

Thanks for the appreciation. How have you been? In Aus or moved already?


Talking To My Soul 30 June 2009 at 23:36  


Thanks, dear. I liked the poem very much. It is very very intense in its tone.

How are you doing?


Adisha 3 July 2009 at 08:41  

Wowwwwwwwwwwww !!!! It was amazing ... Seems like from personal experience ... very well written and touching ...

Talking To My Soul 7 July 2009 at 14:29  


Heyyyy Adisha, thanks a ton. About the personal experience side, well your guess is as good as mine.

Thanks again.


Just call me 'A' 8 July 2009 at 12:01  

lovely post soul...i kind of see a correlation between the storm outside and inside.....of nature and of man...althought that could not necessarily be what you intend to paint here.

Talking To My Soul 8 July 2009 at 21:52  


That is what I intended to paint, A, and you got it spot on.

Long time, no see. Welcome back. Thanks again.


Keshi 14 July 2009 at 05:42  

guess ur long silence means u r being a busy-bod again :)


Talking To My Soul 14 July 2009 at 22:48  


I am travelling, Kesh. I hit the road with some old friends. I am in Chennai now, Pondycehrry then, and some other place next. Wanderer for the time being.

Will be back by weekend. How have you been?


Fallen Angel 19 July 2009 at 18:18  

Wonderfully Woven !

I adore the way you narrate your muse's...natural and yet so catchy .


Add Topic 20 July 2009 at 00:41  

Hi! Just blogwalking. I have cool topics back at my site. See yah there! ;)

Add Topic™

Kindly visit my other blogs aswell:



Talking To My Soul 21 July 2009 at 18:21  


Thank you so very much for visiting me. And also thanks for all the good words.

Do return. You yourself have a flair for writing. I saw your blog. That's terrific.


Talking To My Soul 21 July 2009 at 18:23  

-->Add Topic

Heyy thanks for visiting.


WarmSunshine 22 July 2009 at 01:05  

Sib, when's the nets post coming in? I'm waiting!

Keshi 23 July 2009 at 12:15  

good to hv ya bak sir ;-)

Im ok...nothing new. Maybe I should go on a lil break too..what say?


Talking To My Soul 23 July 2009 at 15:04  


Coming soon, girl. Soon.


Talking To My Soul 23 July 2009 at 15:06  


Thanks, dear. Me glad too.

About you taking a can and must but what will happen to us readers of Viva Forever...


Keshi 24 July 2009 at 07:01  

hehe rem my break last time? about a month off from blogs. maybe I should do that ha? then again, Im not ready for it yet. lol! so dun worry. :)


Talking To My Soul 25 July 2009 at 04:20  


Ah! That's assuring. So, stay.


mystic rose 25 July 2009 at 05:50  

Passing by, and I must stop to say this is lovely!
Did you translate it then? The poem. I've always wanted to read Amrita Pritam, but reading Hindi is daunting.

Talking To My Soul 25 July 2009 at 13:30  

-->Mystic Rose

Thank you so much you arrived here.

Even I find Punjabi difficult to grasp. That's why I chose the English translation of Ms Nirupama Dutt.

Thanks again. Do return.


Rick 25 July 2009 at 21:41  

Just surfing around when I found your blog. Impressively introspective work. Glad I found this and will be back.

Talking To My Soul 26 July 2009 at 23:01  


Heyyy thank you so very much. I am glad you liked it and would return. All I can say I try to keep my thoughts straight and simple. Guess, I manage...

Thanks again.


mystic rose 27 July 2009 at 01:32  

NO, ofcourse not :).

Talking To My Soul 29 July 2009 at 15:44  


Thanks a lot.


Silver 29 July 2009 at 16:01  

Oh my. I love your writing expression.
It's good stuff.

Gayatri Shenoy 30 July 2009 at 13:31  

You've got a way with words. Very well written.

Talking To My Soul 31 July 2009 at 14:35  


Heyyy, thank you so very much there. I am happy you arrived here and did like the post too.

Thank you again and do return.


Talking To My Soul 31 July 2009 at 14:37  


I am so glad you think so, Gayatri. I just try to keep things simple. I guess I manage.

Thank you so much the good words. And, thanks for arriving. Do come back.


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About this blog

If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, then all possibility of life is destroyed