How would I like to be loved?
It is a very difficult question
Because, though I appear, at first glance
To be "The Guy Next Door"
The reality, I assure you, is entirely different
Firstly, every individual is different
Secondly, I am autistic
And finally
There is so much about me
That you will get to know
Only if you are a good friend of mine

How would I like to be loved?
Well, let me tell you
Love is not all about candlelight dinners
Nor is it about *** in the bedroom
It is about being there for each other
No matter what
If I truly love someone
I would be ready to go to jail for her
Of course, not if it is for something ethically wrong
But you get the idea

How would I like to be loved?
If you have seen the Tamil movie "Thiruchitrambalam"
Then you would understand
If I were to say
That I want someone to love me
The way Nithya Menen loved Dhanush
In that amazing movie

How would I like to be loved?
If you've seen me at my worst
One of those days
When I am in one of my rages
And keep shouting and breaking things
Or I lose my focus at work
Due to all my insecurities
Rearing their ugly heads
Or I simply drown myself in my thoughts
Refusing to come out of my bed
Or I cry like a child
Drowning myself in a tidal wave of self-pity
And you still love me the same
As you did when I was at my best
Then it is indeed true love
Enough said

How would I like to be loved?
When I hear one of Harris Jayaraj's romantic melodies
And can instantly relate to it
I know that I am in love
And that love is real, not reel

How would I like to be loved?
If you ask me how was my day
And I go on and on
Droning about the technicalities of my work
Or cribbing about various issues
Such as candidates, clients or my boss
And you never tire of listening to me
Then I know you are truly in love
Also, if I keep asking you how was your day
Every single day after work
And you never once tire of answering such a mundane question
If that is not true love
I don't know what is!
And on that note
It's time to wrap up this little monologue
And return to hard reality

i sank into you so easily,
did I think it would hurt
any less?

i fell
so **** hard
i hit the floor
and shattered -
messy broken pieces
cradled by
copious coping mechanisms
and
erudite discussions of self-love.

Kiss the Sun
and
feel the fire
consume flesh
that weeps,
decays
for love,
starved and starving

so

willing to risk it all
for a future
that
feels far and foreign
like some forgotten
(or perhaps, mad?)
dream

juggle life and death
only to spiral
deeper
into the past
into the present
into emotional volatility
like
the withdrawals my heart endures
away from you
and
the pain of longing,
having longed for nothing more
than your touch;
addictive personality prevailing,
sinking further
into lovesick madness,
I turn to the past for answers:
memories attack like zombies
rising from dew-laden graves,
bursting
through time’s barrier
between the now and then...

i see myself
grasping someone’s thumb
i feel love
for the first time;

i see a girl
smiling at me -
she kisses me
awkwardly
next to a green ladder
and
i can’t respond
because
i don’t know how;

i see an arm around a shoulder
in the back of a Dodge van
and
a sweaty highschooler
asking for a girl’s
cellphone number -
did he save her life
or did she save his?
time slips
through them like
knives
cutting ribbons
out of clear paper
and
centuries rust
like the forgotten bike
in that groundhog’s shed;

i see a sweater,
hear a voice,
and my heart colours
the sky
with every shade
of the love
i cannot yet admit
i am feeling -
she is better than me,
of this i am certain,
which is perhaps
why it hurts when
she is so far
and
i already make myself
feel so small.

i see myself,
alone,
young,
afraid
how powerful my love
feels
when i let it go -
while no one’s watching
and
it has nowhere to go
but inward;
a tree falls,
hidden in the dark -

lay in the snow
and
cease.

my heart beats red:
blood-pulse-rhythm
beat beat beating

beating beating
beat

doomed
to love
and
cursed
to care

a fate
only human.

Your love is like the horizon,
perceived no matter where I stand,
unclear which world that it lies in,
in and beyond my outstretched hand.

Your love is like that distant line
where heaven meets the earthly plane,
the beginning of my sunshine
that bounds a limitless domain.

Your love is like the horizon,
connected wherever I go,
comfort I idealize in,
the only constant that I know.

Your love is like that distant line
that never will recede from view.
Surrounding me and only mine,
I’m there in the center of you.

Before the finch sings or the rooster crows,
before eyelids raise or the sunrise glows,
before the sky transforms from midnight blue,
I’ve already begun my thoughts of you.

Before the alarm’s ring has hit my ears,
before the fog of sleep in my head clears,
before the grass is soaked with morning dew,
the day has started with my thoughts of you.

Before I extricate myself from dreams,
before the birds bathe in the dawn’s sunbeams,
before the coffee calls for me to brew,
my heart and soul begin to call for you.

Before I can arise from where I lay,
before everything that starts my day,
before anything else I have to do,
my day’s begun with loving thoughts of you.

Spinning, turning from night to day,
the world goes around and around.
“You’re wrong! The Earth is flat!” some say.
They’re wrong. You make the world go round.

Each day the sun will rise and set,
with songbirds as the morning sound,
all might seem calm and still, and yet,
your love’s making the world go round.

There’d be no stars and no night sky,
no constellations to be found,
if we couldn’t bid the Sun goodbye,
and you didn’t make the world go round.

The world greets me each day anew.
Time passes though I hold my ground.
Time itself seems derived from you,
because you make my world go round.

Did you know when you woke today
that I would fall in love with you?
That your eyes would be seductive
sirens attracting me to you?

When you delicately opened
your lips at dawn to breathe, did you
know that first breath would draw me in
to your heart and deep love for you?

How many times were you to smile,
not knowing how much I’d love you?
Were you truly that unaware
that pure beauty is to see you?

How many years have passed till now,
my eyes waiting to behold you?
Did you know this moment would come,
searching for beauty, I’d find you?

She’s in my field of view.
So what am I to do?
I’ve nothing much to say,
but cannot look away.

This beauty caught my eye.
It’s pointless now to try—
though staring is a sin,
I’ll sin and take her in.

This beauty sits so near,
that my world stopped right here.
Now life’s very essence
is simply her presence.

Perhaps I’ll see her smile
if I sit here a while.
But if she won’t it seems
I’ll see her in my dreams.

You are my goblet of fine wine,
deep and full, aged to perfection,
plump red lips as grapes off the vine,
tastes mixed in perfect complexion.

Like wine that one drinks long and slow
to sense every subtle tone,
each sip brings something new to know,
our encounter is all my own.

I’m drunk on your complexity,
calmed by your scent before I drink,
yet moved by your intensity
until I know not what to think.

My symbol of celebration,
the proof of the Vintner’s daring,
cause and effect of elation,
your love is my perfect pairing.