Hymeneal Orbit

They lay entangled in each other’s arms; their bodies warm and sated in the icy cold weather. The bed sheet rucked up and blanket crimsonly tired.

‘I love you,’ he said, caressing her hair.

She inhaled deeply and smiled stroking his handsome chest. They had been married only recently and were beginning to be each other’s comfort.

‘I am truly falling in love with you and I believe you feel the same for me,’ he said, propping himself up on his elbow, ‘you are like a garment to me and I want you to be mine. You know… eh, I was wanting to make this commitment with you that very first evening we made love.’

She was lying straight on her back now, wholly focused. Her hair a beautiful mess.

Kissing the knuckles of her hand randomly, he continued, ‘Like the garment as it hides your scars, I want to hide all your faults; as it comforts you, I want to be your solace; as it beautifies you irresistibly, I want to glamorize you too; as it makes you happy and gifts you pleasure, I want to do the same to you; as there comes no barrier between you and your cloth, I too want not the smallest of hindrances between us; as it protects you entirely, I want to harbour you from pain and in the times of trials, I want to screen your grace, your life, and your property; I want to be your wealth sufficient for you, I want to be all you need for your body and soul, as your garment does it to you.’

By the time he ended, she was yawning lazily and smiling frenetically. She hunched up and locked her lips with his’ as there was no other choice left. He was surprised but not too much to not respond.

‘I think I would like to be your garment too.’ She whispered and kissed his ear softly, then buried her lips into his neck. Before drowning into a soothing sleep they made love once more . Listlessly. Happily. Satiately.

Happy Reading. Hope you all be the best garments to your beautiful partners. ūüôā

P.S The impulse to write this piece was the chunk of verse 187 from Qur’an of Chapter 2 which says ‘They (your wives) are clothing for you (the husbands) and you are clothing for them’. What was astonishing were the realities of the relation between a human and the cloth he wears, plus the way this idea shapes marital life. Great metaphor! God’s notion!




A mid-morning significant chaos

Ah! Now it’s been a long time since I wrote anything here… or anything at all. Whenever an idea hits me, I ignore it by giving myself the old same-lame excuses that ‘this is no better idea’, or ‘this is not my thing to write about’, or simply-clearly that ‘I’ve no time at all to write up anything.’

These are not totally invalid excuses because the fact is that I’ve become really bad with ideas. Here comes my big-bad mistake again! I am out of practice actually (a lazy sigh). And literally-truthfully speaking that I have not much free time on my hands. In addition to the can-be-ignored sufferings there comes a cannot-be-ignored suffering that is I am painfully-profoundly ill. Those¬†grey¬†allergies are gnawing once more at me; that rock immune system is slamming down… No! actually it’s dancing around just like the local rattling police (Haha!).

This world was no better place already and the following neither helps¬†it¬†or¬†me¬†much:¬†I’ve been assigned 3 prescription drugs twice a day, another 1 in the mid of the day, nasal spray, nebulizing drugs twice a day, natural medications which, particularly for me, are steam taking and gargles, and worst of all is abstaining from almost all of my favorite food like pizza, biryani, pakora, samosa, spaghetti, french fries, snack, juices, cold drinks, various kind of chaats, chocolates… The never ending list goes on. With all this there is desert-like university where I’ve to spend half of my day mostly useless. This is just as traumatizingly-boringly sad as it sounds.

So, with this, results come: I want to be a world-class writer but I don’t want to write; I want to be a really good student but I don’t want to study, I want to be a perfect friend but I am no longer faithful enough, I want to be a good daughter but I don’t want to do anything for that, I want to be a thoroughly healthy sexy lady but I don’t want to be obedient to doctor. So, I get aggressively-irritatingly tired of everything. My heart goes tired and my soul wretched. No more hopes. All inspirations lost away. Even though the world and everything is not so horribly-terribly bad but some how suddenly it has become that much bad for me. May be this is the sickness symptom or the upshot of the tedious lifestyle .

Then there comes the famous GOD. I am angry with Him one moment, and the other moment I am saying sorry to Him. Seems like I am confused. ‘Aaah! Enough!’ I scream silently, ‘I don’t want to live anymore God because I think I want to meet you now and do nothing else.’¬†But loving-darling God has nothing to say or rather nothing to show. Seems like He doesn’t even wants me to die… at least not for now… not so soon.

He waits patiently until I am unable to take it any longer and there He comes. It’s not big or utterly inspiring… it’s nothing at all. But what He shows clicks. Clicks my heart at once and I am no longer the whilom being. I feel new, better, and somewhat healthily sexy. That wholly miraculous thing is a post on BookRix by B. He writes:

You wait for marriage, within days excitement is gone.
You wait for Newspaper , in an hour the news is old.
You wait to grow up and enjoy, the youth is gone in no time.

We can deny it but this is the truth.
Exceptions are there of course.

Eww! That is depressing. Not attractive at all. But my not-so-close-but-a-good-friend J.C comments on this post of B which makes the dark clouds shine around me, Her comment says:


You wait for marriage, and within days the adventure becomes more real with the chance to make each coming day better than the last.

You wait for the newspaper, and within an hour you’ve not only caught up on what’s happening, but have gotten a smile from the comics, and are ready to kick back with a lovely cup of tea and the crossword.

You wait to grow up and enjoy, and if you’re determined to remember that anticipation, figure out how to do just that, but with the added bonus of increasing wisdom with each passing year.

This, too, is the truth. :’)

Ah! What a beautiful-delightful change in perspectives! And what a refreshing-sharpening slap to the heart! (Claps for Ms. J.C)

Most of you must be thinking that such a dumb-ass Aruha is to be inspired by such a typical comment on the most shitty depressing post. But just as is the reality of this world, let’s be real serious, is the reality of the reality beyond reality. It’s basically all about the Power of¬†Perspectives.

You cannot live happily if you are the seer of the reality of this world. Seriously, it fucks you up awfully. Let’s take an old example: if you see a bird flying and you believe it’s because of its wings you yourself will never be able to fly because you don’t have wings. On the other hand if you are the seer of the reality beyond reality that means your perspective belongs to the greater degree of reality then you’ll be able to fly higher than the birds because then you’ll believe that it’s not the wings which make the birds fly rather it’s their believe and courage. And if you have these two attributes in you no one can stop you from caressing the sky.

It’s all about how we see things… about perspectives. We need to mould them highly and carefully. This world is a better place, it only takes right eyes to see that.

I am still cheesily-messily sick with a little of my world shattering around me but it’s okay. Just as with every other one, God is also with me – and what else do I think I need? – and I am ready to face this world again. I am no more confused and looking ahead is beautifully enthusiastic.

Well… I think it’s time to say goodbye. Have a miraculous day ahead! And Good Luck with your perspectives (Wink).

And eh! Listen my charming-hard working readers…¬†I am intensely-humbly¬†thankful¬†to you for giving my weird yet sometimes vital words your lovely precious time.

. Bookrix is a really nice website for budding writers. Here goes the link: http://www.bookrix.com/
. For privacy concern I’ve used the initials of the names of those I’ve talked of.¬†