Love – Anand Prakash

Love in Winter

January 21, 2020 No Comments

Love is thrown out of window. It shrivels in winter. When the lovers realize the mistake, they get out in winter to look for the thrown love, all they found is a tree stripped of leaves and weighed down by the snow of expectations.

The tree of love had never been stooped so low.

Poetry

Road to Slaughter

November 13, 2018 No Comments

Road-to-Slaughter-Sheep

Poetry

Vapor of Insanity

November 12, 2018 No Comments

Vapor-of-Insanity

Stories

Love: it’s meaning and possibilities

August 4, 2017 No Comments

She loves me and she’s just perfect for me.

Really?

His mind vacillated between these two extremes. How can he be sure about what SHE wanted?

Stendhal wrote in “On love” in 1822 about this doubt and said this was what perpetuates love life. For past seven years, he struggled to understand this simple concept which had been widely circulated in the web and in books. He read a lot of books but he hadn’t read the books he should have. How could he have known this? At this point in his life, his mind had only acquired this: a strange ability to phrase the confusion in form of a question, which can be looked upon. Before this, his mind was a complicated Sudoku or tough Zigsaw puzzle and of course, he wasn’t any good at both of those things. So, when he opened the book, he was roughly 200 years late. Better late than never, right? What is love then? Love is like dying while living and living while dying: the moment of bliss will be followed by frustration. This momentary bliss is the life, he seemed to be telling us. He enumerated different phases of love: admiration, acknowledgement, hope, delight, first crystallization, doubt, and second crystallization. If these different phases of love would have followed the same pattern, life would have been easy. He had this doubt that what would happen if these phases either cyclic like life cycle of parasite or these phases were out of order and worse, what if his words might mean a totally different thing tomorrow.

His doubts amplified and frustration grew. He wasn’t sure anymore.

She loves me and she’s just perfect for me.

Really?

His mind vacillated between these two extremes. How can he be sure about what HE wanted?

Stories

Of Series

June 18, 2017 1 Comment

Of Love: never talk to a man bitten by a dog (rabid or otherwise) about the dog love.
Of Suspicion: the lady checks the glass window of the car which her husband had just shut and thoroughly checked.
Of Anxiety: am I the one who listens to every damned whistle of the night watchman?
Of Caste System: don’t undermine my struggle just because of my caste. Mine and yours can’t ever me matched. And nor should they.
Of Red Tapism: a recently recruited professional is transferred overnight to his desired location for which a permanent professional has been having sleepless night for past five years. You should see his face – it’s not flustered with guilt. He’s proud of his, so called, connections.
Of Bluntness: feeding milk doesn’t make you a mother, women.
Of Long lasting Memory: to plant the statue of their parents in a courtyard, weathering the sun in summer and cold in winter. They must have also thought of birds: where would they defecate, if not on the shoulder of their parents.
Of Respect: playing national anthem before a screwball comedy.
Of Rules and Regulations: under the tree, the crushed grains of flour are sprinkled daily on ant hills. This is how people to do away with their sins. The ants emerge from the ant hills to get their breakfast, unconcerned of the moving soles. It used to be a feast for ants but now they were a feast for the soles.
Of New Beginnings: they talk about what you should do. There are two ways to read this situation: either they don’t want to do anything as they have not done anything so far in life or they want you to learn so that you will not become like them.
Of Happiness: you surprise your loved one. When they look at you with a knowing glee, you did that for me, not said but understood, that’s when a conversation starts to happen between us.
Of Negativity and Irritation: work addled brain seeks out a vent.
Of Cosmetic: the moment I smell the popular fairness cream, I know some girl is around the corner.
Of Religion: if you are able to get a group of some fifteen to twenty people with you (however you get—fool them or bribe them—it doesn’t matter), you can even walk naked on the road.