Thursday, February 16, 2012

Just because you offer to pay the bills,

It doesn’t mean you’re doing anything great.

Just cause you offer to come pick me up,

Doesn’t mean you’re being a gentleman.


I don’t need your money,

Nor do I want a ride in your new BMW.

You can keep all that you have,

Cause I’ve had enough of you.


You go about yelling at every other guy who talks to me,

You act like you own me.

No

I ain’t your Barbie doll,

And you’re not being cool.


You go and brag about your acts to your friends,

You think that’s an achievement!

Go and try that with your mum,

And watch how you get kicked out of your house.


No, don’t put your arms around me,

No, don’t shower your gifts on me.

Don’t tell me that I’m your sweetheart,

Cause you don’t know the real me.


Don’t tell me what not to do,

Cause I’ve got a life of my own.

You can go pick another girl to ride on

In your new BMW!

.....

With this, I'm signing off for now :)

I'll be back in the end of March. Till then, take care. Hope to see you all when I'm back :)


Love and hugs,

Philo =)


Sunday, February 12, 2012

I’ve had boys. Plenty of them.

But none that lasted long. No, we never departed on a bad note. It was always mutual.

The feelings just died down after a point. After parting ways, I would miss the old times, but then a new guy would enter my life and the circle continued.

A smile and a couple of sweet talks - That was all it took for me to get a guy to fall for me.

They all fell for my innocence.

Bad boys were my attraction, and for them, an easy girl like me was an easy pick. When I say ‘bad’, I don’t mean it in a literal sense. You know, those guys with tattoos and muscles who are just laid back about everything and everything, and who go about bashing up the other guys who try to mess with their girls? The Vin Diesel kinds… Yea, that was my pick. The nastiness, the naughtiness, they pulled me in, and I gave in.

But then, they knew it was all just a fling. And so did I. They all just built up my experience, and got me off my innocence. After that, we parted ways.

And I let another guy pull me in.

For them, it was nothing. For me, it all made me feel loved and wanted.

Dependent..

That's how I've always been. And now, I can't seem to let go..

Where am I heading, that I don't know.

....

Listening to: Infinite Arms- A band of horses.

Picture: Google


P.S: Just cause many asked, it's a work of fiction :)


Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The Flower Girl.. (Part 2) :)


The last time I opened up to somebody, was when I was eighteen. That was the last time I was naïve. He broke my heart, naturally. After that, I tied myself to my flowers. People around thought me weird. What difference would it make anyways? I had to earn. My father was paralyzed to the bed. My mother, dead...


I hoped to see him, but he did not turn up. I kept looking around, but he was nowhere to be seen. The strawberry basket lay empty on the table, and there was no camera flashing around.

People came into the shop, and they left. I searched for him in every face, I longed for him to suddenly appear with his camera. I wanted to look at him secretly while he would be lost capturing pictures.

But no, he did not come, and the day passed.


Is it possible to fall for a person within a span of just two days? Was it just the desperation that was

building up within me, or was it something else? I don’t know..

Maybe he realized that I’m nothing but a rotten flower girl.

……


Every Sunday I go to my mother’s grave, and cover it with all sorts of flowers. I sit there and talk to her. I tell her about how hard my father was trying to survive. I then venture into the woods to collect wild flowers and berries. I sit and watch the canopies of the trees weaving garlands from the flowers.


It’s been a week since I last saw him. The shop feels empty. I miss his presence. I don’t water the flowers. I flip through the pages of the newspaper, not interested in reading anything. And then, the exhibition catches my eyes. I don’t know how to react to it. I throw the paper away and close the shop for the remaining day.

But then, as the evening approaches, I find myself sitting infront of the mirror and untangling my hair. My mother’s silk dress fits me perfectly. My hair falls on my shoulders. I tab my neck with the perfume that

lay untouched since ages, and walk up to my father.

“You look just like your mother.” His voice is a soft whisper. I hold his hands and kiss them softly. “Is it okay to let love in, when it’s at your doorstep?” I ask. “You’ll regret if you let it go.”

“Thank you father. I’ll be back soon.”

……

I never believed in happy endings. Fairy tales were just a fantasy.. But when I saw a shadow linger outside my shop, I did hope with all my heart that it would be him..


“I knew you’d come.” He said, as he came closer to me.

“Where were you for so long?” I asked as he took my hand and started to walk.

“You’ll see.” He said.


And yes, I

did see. I saw something that was beyond imaginable.

The pictures hung on the walls. I examined them intensely, not being able to believe what I saw.

I saw my pictures. Pictures in which my messy hair fell over my eyes, the ones in that I held a scissor between my teeth…The ones I were laughing in, eating strawberries, smelling flowers.. And also the ones in which I sat waiting for him to come. Wondering where he was gone.

The last picture that hung on the wall, was of me kneeling down before my mother’s grave, laying flowers before her.

I stand there, not knowing how to react. I just stand there, and when he comes and holds my hands tightly, I melt.

“You never left..” I whisper into his ears.

I told you I would follow your smell, didn’t I?” And then he smiles…taking me into his arms.

.....

I never cried when my mother died. I was too scared that I might not be able to stop. My sadness came out in the form of anger, in the form of detachment…

But with him, I let it all out. I emptied myself to him. He held on to me.


“Close your eyes.” He said.

“Why?”

“Just close them, will you.”


I do as he tells me to. I wait patiently as he opens my hair. I feel him brush the tangles off my hair. He then gently kisses my shoulders and whispers into my ears. “Open them now..”


“How… How could you make a tiara?” I ask, keeping my gaze fixed.


"Your father guided me.” He looks into my eyes, and I’m in for a loss of words.


“Will you ma

rry me?” He asks.

“Yes. Yes I will..” The words come out, before I have time to think. But then, for a change, I didn’t want to think.


Is it possible that just one person can get your heart racing at the very first moment? Yes, it is. Even for someone like me..

........


And yes, the story ends here.. and now I'm out of ideas for a new story!

Thank you for reading :)


Love,

Philo

Sunday, February 5, 2012

The Flower Girl..

The lilies.. They have always been my favourite flowers. When I was a child, my mother made tiaras out of them for me. I would wear them on my head, pretending to be a princess. But then, she left. I never saw her again. Nor did I ever wear a tiara ever again.


The bell rang and he entered the shop. For once, I could not take my eyes off him. But when I realized how unkempt I looked, I took to my heels and hid behind the flowers that lay on the table.

“Well, how may I help

you Sir?” I asked.

“Err…Can I just look around?”

People came to florists to buy flowers. There was nothing to look at.

“I mean, if you don’t mind. I’m a photographer actually. And, I want to click pictures of you. Sorry. Of your flowers I mean.” He looked and me and grinned. I would think that he was a stalker, but then I wouldn’t mind having some company around. “Sure.” I said, and turned away from him, before he could ask me any more questions.

“Just, just don’t touch any of the flowers.” I quickly added and got back to my work.


Is it possible that just one person can get your heart racing at the very first moment? Yes, it is. But then, for someone like me who has always remained hidden amidst flowers, always been scared of letting a man enter h

er life, for someone like me, the feeling is new.

I tried avoiding him. I arranged the flowers, rearranged them when it wasn’t required, watered them again and again, and entertained my customers for longer than what I usually do. But no, that stranger who was going about clicking pictures of my flowers was all I was thinking about. He beguiled me.. I wanted him and I wanted him out at the same time.


“Do you mind if I come back again tomorrow? I can help you around if want too.” He asks before leaving. “Yes, I wouldn’t mind.” I instantly wish I could have taken my words back. But no, I had already spoken before I could stop myself. And he came back the next day, looking

even better than the last time, carrying with him a basket of strawberries for me.

...........

When my mum was around, she would tie ribbons all around my hair, and they would slip down my hair like silk. After she left, I spent my time doing the chores of the house. My hair I left, untamed..


I spent hours, trying to set my hair right, but nothing seemed to work. The harder I tried, the messier it looked. In the end, I just pin it up and wear my daily clothes and leave for work.

As I near the shop, he waves at me.

“Hey! Good morning.” He says. His smile makes my heart flutter.

“I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting.” I quickly open the shop, and let him in.

“This place is beautiful, you know. The smell, it’s so refreshing.” I wish he would stop doing that, flashing me his smiles. “Oh, and here, I got strawberries for you.” He places the basket on the table and sits down infront of me. “Thank you. It was very nice of you.” And then, we indulge ourselves eating the strawberries, talking about flowers and about photography. “Would you like to come out with me sometime?” He asks. Before I can answer, a customer interrupts our conversation, and the matter is buried.

He spends the day helping me decorate bouquets, clicking pictures and keeping me company.

“Don’t you have anything else to do apart from coming here?” I call out to him, as he walked out of the shop.

“A lot. But, a flower girl’s smell brings me back here everyday!” Saying so, he takes off, and I stand there, watching him, smiling.

I don’t remember the last time when I had felt so good.

.............

To be continued :)

To read the male version of the story, check out Rahul's post here :) 'Flower Girl- Male'

Thanks a ton for writing it Rahul :)


Picture Courtesy: Rahul's findings in Google :D

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Safe Haven

The cold wind hits my face hard.

I cling on to him, as he zooms. It’s dark. It’s cold. And I’m numb.

I bury my head into his jacket, and hold on as tight as possible. Closing my eyes, with my hands inside his jacket’s pockets, I take in as much of his warmth as I could.

We don’t say a word. It’s too cold to talk. When I look behind, there are no vehicles.

Ahead of us, there are none either.

It was just us. It was just me, with the only person I’ve ever wanted to be with.

Fast driving has always given me the creeps. But sitting behind him, I wasn’t scared at all.

I let him sweep me away. The moments…they were just magical!

And trust me, when I say so, it really felt like that.

We drive for hours. By the time we reach, I cannot move.

The fog slowly starts clearing, as we climb the cliff. And when I cannot pull myself up, he lends

me his hand.

We stand there, on the cliff, watching the sunrise, letting the warmth reach us, and he still holds

on to my hand. I wasn’t very cold any longer, but with him so close to me, I froze.

We race down the cliff…tumbling over we land up in the sea, in each other’s arms. Everything

was just so perfect, so beautiful.

He zooms again. It was no longer foggy, no longer cold. Yet, I clasp on to him, with my head

buried into his jacket, and my hands inside the pockets.

Everything was perfect. He was flawless. He felt safe.

We’re tired once we’re back. His arms closed around me as he put me off to sleep.

But when I wake up, he’s gone..

It can’t be a dream, can it? It all felt so real.


My phone beeps. It was him.

“I had a great time. Can we do something like this again? I mean if you want to.”

I read the message again and again. It was all too good to be real.

I smile and drift off to think about my moments with him once again..