for a girl named Peace:“How much can we ever know about the love and pain in another heart?"

Ka’s snow trail

“It’s amazing how you can speak right to my heart, without saying a word…” Ka sleeps for awhile after his night work. He wakes at the sound a song in his heart and three gentle knocks on his door. He knows it is An. She would knock and then go back to the dinning table where she has prepared a mug of coffee and a croissant for him. She sits across the table, leans her upper body over, one hand touching her hair, with open up face, smiling, her hauntingly beautiful super-large eyes looking intensely into his eyes and says, “Do you feel connected to me?” She wants a serious discourse at breakfast, “will you acknowledge and take care of my needs? Am I safe with you?”

He has from the beginning done a research (on the scanty information he managed to get and also based on observations and listening to her conversations) on her without her knowing. She has the personality type called, INFJ (introverted, intuitive, feeler, and judger). The above questions are her way in asking, “Do you love me?” She knows he doesn’t want to say the three words. So she asks differently. He answers, “I have educated myself on how you operate so that I can be sensitive to your needs and respond appropriately and effectively. I will protect you.” (He speaks his own love language.)

She says, “I know from the beginning you are different, very smart, in fact, super-intelligent. You value your own alone quality time as top priority. When you give me your quality time I know I mean something to you.” She is uncannily right. She can speak right to his heart without saying a word if she wants to. He actually prefers to hear her silent voice because it is clear and pure and honest and connects direct to his heart.

She knows he is an INTJ personality type. They both share the introvert, intuitive and judgement ways of looking at and treating life. But they differ on a crucial difference: he uses his mind (think) an she uses her heart (feel) to decide important matters such as relationship and the communication of love language. From the time they first met they knew the chemistry that set them apart from the rest. He sees signs of her interest in him. She lingers. She finds ways to be around when he is around. She bakes croissants for him and cleans his room. She sits right next to him even when he sits at the short end of the table, just wanting to be in close proximity to him.

“I think about you a lot. I can lie awake for hours just thinking of what you have said to me and what it could mean.” She sees signs of his interest in her. “We have not yet known each other then and you have given me a highly sensitive and creative gift specifically customized for me on my birthday, the photos of me and my dog you found on the internet data base, and a poem of Rudyard Kipling on “the power of a dog”. He knows it stunned her and opened her heart to him.

“But why did you do that even then, without knowing me at all?” She asks. He cannot tell her he can read her heart. From their first encounter, he has read the depth of pain in her heart encrusted in hardness by layers of continuing betrayal by a closed one. And her eyes, those sad eyes staring at him within the first ten minutes of their encounter, crying out in silence, “Help me!” His heart heard and understood her heart language instantly and clearly but he couldn’t tell her how much his heart can feel the stabbing pain. He becomes vulnerable in this connection.

She is right when she keeps asking him to use his heart and not his mind. “The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of… We know the truth not only by the reason, but by the heart.” – Blaise Pascal

“Do you feel connected to me?” She asks again. His heart says, “Yes, I do.” But he remains silent. It is a tool that he uses for assignments and not for personal gain. He has broken the rule by connecting his heart with hers and feels for her deeply. He has fallen hard. “I will protect you. I will do everything I can to protect you.” He continues as if casually, “You know, after my assignment here -finish writing this book, by May I will leave here and travel to the distant sunny coast. If you are free by then, will you care to join me?” He has included her in his future plan! Another risk-taking love sign (breaking the rule)! She looks at him unbelievingly and shakes her head slightly, “I don’t know. I have already made other arrangement including a very important appointment in a far away land.” She seems distancing. He tries once more, “Anyway, I will work out a schedule and maybe you want to take a look just in case there are changes.”

She says, “Ok, but no promise.” Then she says nonchalantly, “I am leaving for good in May. I will not come back. My assignment is over and there is no new assignment so I must leave this country.” Is this a test for him? “Is this guy for real?” (Her heart says.)

“I see,” he replies calmly, “I have another year here before I can leave and not return. I will take a three months’ break in May-July and return to this house in August. ” He is telling her classified information.

“Well, it’s only January. May is a long way off. To be honest, I am tired of talking meaningless stuff and I have to work now. After all, I have set aside so much time talking to you when I should be doing something urgent. I have deadline to meet, you know. Good day.” She leaves. He sits until he hears her car engine starts to run. But it is turned off instantly. He walks to the kitchen/garage door and it opens and she is there. She says, “Sorry I forgot just now. I want to say that I really appreciate you coming for me like the super-hero in Marvel’s comics. Thank you. I wish you were one.” Then she leaves.

“How much can we ever know about the love and pain in another heart?” He speaks to his heart silently. His heart does not answer to such a trivial question. He sighs. When he looks out of the kitchen window he sees a trail left by something on the snow. What or who could that be? He switches to his alert mode. (To be continued)

for a girl named Peace: Immersing oneself in the problems of a book is a good way to keep from thinking of love

Ka’ s snow land

He is not programed to love the way human love. That is why he has chosen to be a writer in his earthly pass-time. He lives in a small sparsely furnished back room. An occupies the beautiful master bedroom suite which she decorated tastefully for herself. The middle room is now empty. Ka doesn’t sleep the way others sleep. He goes to bed early and gets up at midnight and writes his book or works on his true assignment on the four wind. He doesn’t know what others do during the evening and he is not interested. He was trained in the etiquette of earth people before he got born into this world. He knows people eat dinner, drink, converse on unimportant matters or watch TV and then go to bed around midnight. He can do them when needed but they are of no relevance to him. He takes an afternoon meal and goes for long walk during which he talks in his own language which is instantly transmitted to the source-receiver in his own realm. He receives messages downloaded the same way from the outer-source-transmitter directly into his heart. When he returns to the house he has a shower and goes to bed in the early evening.

Ka is writing a book for earth people. It is about “Essence and Matter”. It is a good book because it is problematic. There are words that he has in his language that earth people do not have. For example, he is writing this story between An and him now as a book inside his book to illustrate the vast difference in definition between the love he believes in and the love An attempts to profess. What he used to think as straightforward has become very complicated now. How can he reconcile the two extremes? How can he avoid getting hurt or hurting her?

One significant word keeps coming up and demands to be defined and resolved. The word is “Possessed”. An defines love as possessing and being possessed in body and in soul. He defines love as not having to possess or be possessed. To him, love should be left free and pure of motive and agenda. He doesn’t look for reciprocation for love. In his language Love is giving. Love is not exchanging. For example, he gives her his love without the intention for an exchange with her or to get something in return for his benefits. In his realm, no one possesses anything. There is a solemn covenant made when two persons decide to love each other and be life partners. They may live together and share things and lives together. They may not. And they remain faithful in love for each other in essence regardless of the space and even time that may separate them. There is no divorce. There is no adultery. There is no affair outside a marriage covenant. There is no consummation in the physical realm.

In the earth realm, marriage without physical consummation can be annulled in court, even though physical consummation does not mean you have a particular love relationship between two persons secured for life in today’s promiscuity. In Ka’s world the covenant made in spoken words is the consummation. For example, if he says in audible sound to An, “I love you” and she accepts his vow of love, it is sealed and engraved into his and her heart and it is irreversible until the death of one party. The wise and more responsible thing to do is not to say anything unless you really mean what you say and is committed to keep it “forever” (until death do part).

Ka knows his book is boring and even borders on absurdity to a normal earth man or woman. “What kind of love is that? Weird!” They will exclaim in disbelief and laugh it off as a means to gain cheap publicity. Of course, he doesn’t intend it to be read by the mass audience. He only wants An to read it and keep it. Perhaps one day when she is very old she will think back and remember one snowy season what happened between she and a man from another realm and he is real and his love is pure and real even though he cannot say to her he loves her. And he cannot even touch her hand (with love in his heart) for a second without getting his heart seared. Maybe she will remember how her whole life was changed because she read this book one day out of pure love for him.

“I read a book one day and my whole life was changed.”― Orhan Pamuk, The New Life

One day she tells him she is working on the various topics that successful role models in the society can teach the young people about. She lists some possible professions and lifestyle practices. Then he adds, “What about how should a man treat a woman?” And her countenance lights up, “Why didn’t I think of that, yes, that is definitely the most important subject to teach!”

Perhaps that will be his next book. Looking through the blind, he notes that the snow has stopped and left an entirely different world outside. Colorless. Haunting. Like the seared love patches in his heart. (To be continued)

for a girl named Peace: does love make one a fool or do only fools fall in love?

a snow-painted land

He hears the piercing siren in his heart. He knows she is in danger. And she is crying out to him for help in his spirit. He sees her lying in a pool of blood. It is in the imminent future. Just as he sees her dancing with a strong, broad-shoulder man in a club. Those scenes have not yet happened but he sees them. He has a choice to make. It takes nine hours to fly non-stop by a commercial air-plane. Her time is seven hours ahead of his. It will take him two hours to get to his airport to catch the next flight. He can take a military plane anytime using his classified status. But he won’t.

What else can he do and is wiling to do for her? He can get there in the blinking of an eye through his super-human ability but it would mean having to give account later for misuse of power and worse, arbitrary changing of his station in the four wind. On the other hand if he travels by mere earth flights he will not be penalized.

He feels his heart in his throat, being pulled by an invisible string towards the unknown of hers, somewhere in another continent. He can see the helplessness and fear in her eyes biding him to go instantly.

“Tell me then, does love make one a fool or do only fools fall in love?”
(Orhan Pamuk, My name is Red.)

He decides to be the fool and opens his briefcase. In an instant he is there at her room door and he knocks. She opens and pulls him inside. “Quick, we have no time. That bully is coming shortly to take me to a dinner and a dance.” She says in one breath. “I know.” He smiles. She hands him her packed suitcase and holds on to his free hand firmly. In another instant they are back in the snow land house. The whole house is filled with the brilliance of his smile. He doesn’t know why he is smiling. It lasts only an instant and yet the happy effect lingers like forever.

For an instant he holds her hand and squeezes it. Then he lets go. That momentary bliss burns a sizzling pain in his heart. The housemate has moved out around the same time An left. And now there are only the two of them. An makes him a cup of coffee. They sit across the dinning table and look at each other. She looks deep into his eyes and sighs, “The sadness returns so soon.”

“You know I will come for you?” He asks. She nods. “I always know.”

“You know about my time machine and my ability to see beforehand and prevent bad events?” He wants her to admit she has hacked his code. Who is she? He begins to be cautious.

“Did you put those pictures into my vision? You dancing and lying in a pool of blood? Virtual images. ” He remains his cool, having switched back to his above the neck mode. He knows next to nothing of this woman whom he loves. He wishes he is writing a fiction. And this woman is a mere fictional character in his story.

I know all about you. She narrates like she is the fiction-writer herself. I have known you from the first ten minutes I met you. Ka, what makes you think you can hide from me and not let me find the real you? Yes, you are a writer as you say you are. You write into the hearts of people. And so do I. No, I don’t need to hack code. I use a higher power. It is called love.

“It may not happen in the first instant, but within ten minutes of meeting a man, a woman has a clear idea of who he is, or at least who he might be for her, and her heart of hearts has already told her whether or not she’s going to fall in love with him.” (Orhan Pamuk)

Believe it or not, I love you and that’s all I need. I know my beauty and worth. I know your super natural ability and power and you yourself told me you were different. No, I don’t do high tech. The bully pervert is real. My potential predicament is real. He is my ex-husband, a highly qualified and famous expert in socially exalted field. I married young and thought that he would lift me up to his pedestal but instead he delighted in crushing me to pulps in the mud. It was a bloody divorce. I went back to settle some outstanding financial issues and he is thinking of taking advantage again.

How did I know you would come for me and rescue me in time? I operate in love. Love doesn’t fail. You do not fail. Because you too, operate by love.

Ka suddenly feels immensely happy. She is back and she loves him.

“Happiness means being close to the one you love, that’s all. (Taking immediate possession is not necessary.)” (Orhan Pamuk, The Museum of Innocence)

I love you, An. He says inaudibly in the silence of his heart. But she answers as if she can hear his heart, “I love you too, Ka.” The snow has come again and started painting outside. (to be continued)

another attempt: the windows are open

from where we stand, on this street, the windows are open

windows are open
blue screen: windows open

windows of opportunity
open daily
to hearts that tally
and not give up

patiently
perseveringly
waiting for the break

dawns always break
at the first ray of light

come alive
a call
so still and quiet
yet you hear it
high and wide

many years ago
he heard
and passed it by

now the call
again so faint yet vivid
come alive
at this first ray of light

the windows are open
from where you stand

where our lives meet: a poetic attempt in blue

there is a quiet space where our lives meet

window of quiet space

where we meet though not often
there is always space

where you rest your soul
and I rest mine
behind a pale blue glaze

quiet
does not mean tired
often it’s a triad
you and me and space

why blue?
you ask

a task?
a mask?

neither
hither and thither
though our souls may flutter
as two young turtledoves
prematurely caught
and set
on each side of an ancient blue vase

posing in a quiet space
one looks in while the other looks out

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

afar and near in perspectives: two pictures

afar lake tahoeafar junction
I chose these two pictures because of the rather interesting perspectives. USA is full of interesting scenes even though I took these pictures at random. The people too. They are apart and dynamic and yet blend into the static presentation as parts of an integral whole. I can imagine individual stories in each small segment and yet I acknowledge that the sum total makes it a unique striking picture! The advantage of bigness of space —— near and afar.