Hello...

She was a ghost. At least that's how it all started. Nothing tangible about her. It's all too hazy right now, her silhouette. Her contours remain pretty much the same. But she is probably the first ghost to have dived into the Lazarus pit to emerge in human form. A gorgeous human form. It took a while for it all to happen. But goodness. That's some use of nature's elements.

I've seen boys turn into men. I've seen men turn into boys. The latter more often than necessary, But watching a girl turn into a woman is a sight in itself. 

Back when she'd been a ghost, she called me to the terrace so that we could watch the moon together. I reached the terrace, only to watch her jump off the ledge. I ran to her in the futile attempt to save her. But then, little did I notice that she was sitting right behind me, with her back to a wall, laughing at my despair. I don't remember exactly how mad I got her sick idea of a joke. Maybe she read my inhibitions. Or maybe I just got ahead of myself. But that was all! I wanted no more of her. That's what I had decided was best for either of us. 

She said to me once.... "You had me at "Hello" ". And to be honest, I knew that. Somewhere deep down, I was petrified by the very prospect of having been taken by her at first sight. But I knew for a fact that that could never be the case. She and I? Who was I kidding? Little did I know that I'd gotten my facts wrong. Horrendously wrong. If I were to leave a "moral of the story" towards the end of this post, it would be this... "Never say never."

But this ain't the end of the story. From what I know, nowhere close. 

Fate kept throwing us at each other, one way or another. Either that, or it was us throwing ourselves at each other. There seems to be some sort of a tacit agreement somewhere that apparently makes it all possible, all while making it look like it was supposed to happen the way it did. But we kept denying ourselves to each other. It seemed more convenient that way. Who would have known what things were snowballing into? Quite surely, there's still not a creature that knows what things have snowballed into. Moving on...

Women, I tell you. There are very few things in all of creation that are more intoxicating than these creatures. Apart from your passions, there are few things that can make you feel god-like. There are also very few things that can make you feel worse than the lowest scum in existence. But then that's the whole point. You never realize how it feels to be god, if you can't feel the agony of a destitute. 

The Scent of a Woman, now here's something that has an entire movie dedicated to it, and still remains an enigma. Not that anyone's complaining. It's nothing like anything. (Sorry, Micromax! That line is a lot better at describing the best aroma, instead of some gimmicky bunch of fancy gadgets.) You can breathe her. A whiff is all it takes. The scent shall keep you up all night. It could put you into deep slumber. It can drive you into a killing spree, and also bring tranquility to the tumult inside, all in one go. A panacea? Not quite. But whatever it is, bloody hell, it's potent!

My ghost was being resurrected as a woman, right in front of my eyes. Then again, we watch. We don't see. Another one of those sensory impairments, albeit a bit unlike Sherlock's "Watson, you see, but you do not observe."

If I were to start observing, which I often do, I can strip this creation down to bare bones without having to touch her clothes. You should see her heart pounding then. It's a very serene sight. As a matter of fact, nakedness is very beautiful. Very natural. There's no burden of having to hide anything. No need to suck up. Things automatically boil down to the way they ought to be. No more layers to sift through. Nothing to peel off. It's all there, right in front of you.

The mutual denial stayed in place longer than planned. Actually, a lot longer than it should have. Something snapped. Next thing we know, all hell broke lose. 

You see, that's what happens when you try to stop things that aren't meant to be stopped. Everything just goes berserk, squandering every piece of the puzzle, each one of them, so intricately put in all the wrong places, so as to leave the bigger picture an undecipherable piece of work. 

But the deluge that comes and smashes everything into smithereens, somehow manages to solve the entire jigsaw to reveal the map to the treasure trove....

She's alive. Hiding somewhere.The little red cross. Little does she know that the map's with me.