Category: love

  • Loving Noir: A Meeting of Souls

    Loving Noir: A Meeting of Souls

    Loving Noir

    The streets of Chicago pulsed with life, but Kayra hardly noticed the thrumming energy around her. Dressed in a flowing golden saree, her heels clicked softly against the pavement of the Riverwalk. The warm breeze danced along her skin, lifting the edges of her pallu as her husband, Maes, draped his jacket over her shoulders. His gesture was comforting, grounding, yet her heart beat erratically, stirred by an undercurrent she couldn’t name.

    She looked up at him, his warm, kind eyes gazing back with unwavering devotion. “What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice steady and reassuring.

    “Just… how far we’ve come,” she replied, smiling faintly. It was true. Maes had been her anchor, her safe harbor. He was her now, her always. And yet…

    Her thoughts scattered as they reached the bridge overlooking the shimmering water. For a moment, time seemed to still. A man stood at the edge of the walkway, his silhouette sharp against the backdrop of the city lights. Her breath caught, her hand instinctively clutching Maes’s arm.

    “Noir,” she whispered before she could stop herself.

    The man turned at the sound of his name, his dark eyes locking onto hers. The air between them crackled, as if the universe itself held its breath. Kayra felt her knees weaken, her past rushing to the forefront of her mind. His gaze was the same—piercing, magnetic, and devastatingly familiar.

    “Kayra,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city, yet it echoed through her entire being.

    Maes glanced between them, his brow furrowing. “You know him?”

    Kayra hesitated, but Noir stepped forward, extending a hand to Maes with an ease that belied the tension crackling around them. “Noir,” he said smoothly. “An old friend.”

    Friend. The word lingered in the air like smoke, taunting her. Noir’s hand was firm as Maes shook it, and Kayra’s heart ached at the sight of them together—a man who held her present and a man who had once held her soul.

    “We should go,” Kayra said quickly, pulling Maes’s arm. She couldn’t endure this. Not here. Not now.

    But Maes was nothing if not gracious. “Nonsense. Join us for a drink, Noir.”

    Kayra froze, her mind racing. Noir’s lips curved into a faint smile as he nodded. “It would be my pleasure.”

    The bar was intimate, dimly lit with flickering candles casting shadows on the walls. Kayra sat stiffly, her fingers wrapped around her glass of wine as Maes and Noir exchanged pleasantries. She barely heard the conversation, too aware of Noir’s presence, the way his eyes lingered on her, burning through the space between them.

    “Chicago suits you,” Noir said suddenly, his voice low, directed at her.

    Her throat tightened. “Does it?” she replied, her voice barely steady.

    Maes glanced at her, then at Noir, sensing the tension but unable to decipher it. “So, how do you two know each other?”

    Kayra opened her mouth, but Noir spoke first. “We met years ago. A chance encounter.” His gaze held hers, unflinching. “One I’ve never forgotten.”

    Her chest constricted, her breath shallow. The wine in her glass rippled as her hand trembled. “We should leave. It’s late.”

    Maes frowned, concerned, but Noir stood, his movements smooth and deliberate. “I should be going anyway,” he said, his tone calm but his eyes telling another story entirely.

    Maes extended a hand once more. “It was good to meet you, Noir.”

    Noir shook it, his fingers brushing hers as he reached for his coat. The touch was brief, but it sent a shiver down her spine. As he walked away, he turned back once, his gaze lingering on her. It was a look that spoke volumes—of unfinished stories, of love unspoken yet deeply felt.

    Kayra watched him go, her chest heavy with emotions she couldn’t name. She felt Maes’s hand on hers, grounding her, anchoring her. But her soul—it was still with Noir, somewhere in the space between what was and what could have been.

    This was just the beginning. A collision of past and present. A spark reignited.

    Would Kayra surrender to the safety of her now or risk everything for the fire of a love she thought she’d lost forever?

    The answer lay in the pages ahead.

  • Focused Manifesting

    Focused Manifesting

    What book are you reading right now?

    I generally don’t have the patience to sit down and read a book cover to cover.

    I take my time absorbing it, breathing in it and completely internalizing it.. that is.. if I really like the book.

    Here I am only talking about non-fiction. That’s been my genre lately.

    So going back to this book I am reading – Focused Manifesting.

    I picked this book around a time when nothing was working for me. No power of attraction. No amount of meditations. No amount of mindfulness techniques. To an extent where I had completely given up on life and had even stopped trying to push through my dreams.

    It’s usually these times when a good book finds you. And that’s how Focused Manifesting found Me.

    A few things that resonated in this book that have not really been written about anywhere else:

    • Effect of Pendulums – These are social, economic and existential factors whose combined effect acts as a moving pendulum that could affect our better judgements during our manifestations for ourselves. Eg: Family pressure, peer pressure, etc. This resonated with me a ton given I had just changed my living situation from living by myself to living with my family. Because of this change the social pendulum s had started acting against me.
    • Emotional Inertia – This one was a game-changer for me. I was caught in a past that was non-existential. But the emotions that I had gathered and stored into my psyche (emotions from the past) still had a combined effect on my present which was a huge obstacle in manifesting my dreams for the future.

    I am still reading the book. But one thing I know for sure.. the right book had finally found me.

  • San Francisco

    San Francisco

    If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

    There is something about this city that draws you in. She takes her time with you. Tests you patience and puts you through her own path for you. But she does grow on you.

    I have lived in this city for over a decade and in this time I walked through the uphill downhill streets of my life exactly like the streets of San Francisco.

    While I was not made to feel welcome by its people right away her and me had a thing of our own. She showed me the world through her own lenses.

    There were times when she made me feel lonely, but even then she made me feel absolutely connected and in love with her.

    There is no other place I’d want to be as much as I’d want to be San Francisco.

  • Just Before Dawn

    Just Before Dawn

    Loving Noir

    The night sky draped over the forest like a velvet cloak, its deep hues speckled with shimmering stars. The air was cool, humming with the subtle rustle of leaves as a gentle breeze threaded through the trees. Kayra, with her serene presence, moved gracefully along the path that led to the heart of the forest—a place where time seemed to pause and the ordinary was laced with magic.

    Noir had always been an enigmatic presence in her life. Their first meeting was fleeting, like a shadow slipping past in the dark, yet it left an imprint on her soul. There was something about his eyes that spoke of distant storms and quiet nights; a depth that pulled at her own hidden corners. They walked separate paths, their lives brushing against each other only when the moon shone full and bright, casting silvery light across the world.

    On this night, the moon was especially luminous, bathing the forest in an ethereal glow. Kayra paused by the ancient oak tree, its twisted roots clawing into the earth like a guardian of secrets. She ran her fingers along the bark, feeling its roughness against her skin—a grounding sensation. She was waiting, though she wouldn’t say it aloud. Waiting for the presence that seemed to always find her under this moon.

    Then, she heard it—the barely perceptible sound of feet brushing against the undergrowth. A figure emerged from the shadows, taller and lean, moving with a kind of elegance that belonged more to the wind than to any being. Noir.

    He stopped a few paces from her, his dark eyes catching the light. They stood in silence for a moment, the space between them thrumming with an unspoken recognition.

    “Kayra,” he said, her name rolling off his tongue like a prayer. His voice was both familiar and foreign, like a song remembered from a past life.

    “Noir,” she replied, a soft smile curving her lips.

    There was no need for small talk. They knew the essence of each other, woven through glances and moments that spoke louder than words. Noir stepped closer, the warmth of him radiating through the space until it wrapped around her like a cocoon. She met his gaze, unflinching, as though daring him to read the uncharted depths of her heart.

    He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. The simple touch sent a shiver down her spine, a reminder of how raw their connection was. Time felt suspended, the night holding its breath as if afraid to disturb the sanctity of this encounter.

    “You always come back,” Kayra whispered, the vulnerability in her voice betraying the guarded exterior she tried to maintain.

    “I never really leave,” Noir replied, eyes darkening with a mixture of longing and melancholy. His hand traveled to her cheek, cupping it as if she were made of glass.

    In that moment, the world seemed to dissolve. The worries, the fears, the questions that gnawed at the edges of their minds—all fell away. What remained was the magnetic force between them, undeniable and unyielding.

    They stood there, under the watchful eyes of the ancient oak and the benevolent moon, two souls recognizing themselves in the other. The forest, their silent witness, whispered with approval as if it, too, knew that some connections were written into the fabric of the universe.

    And as the first light of dawn threatened to spill over the horizon, Kayra lingered in the embrace of the night, their hearts silently vowing to find each other again.

    Noir exhaled slowly, a breath that carried the weight of years, of lifetimes. His thumb brushed her cheekbone, lingering there as though memorizing the curve of her face. The shadows of the forest seemed to pulse, shifting around them as if protecting this stolen moment. Kayra leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut for just a second, savoring the electric warmth that passed between them.

    “It’s always like this,” she said, opening her eyes to meet his. They shimmered with unshed emotion, a glistening edge that spoke of both joy and sadness. “I feel you even when you’re not here.”

    Noir’s expression softened, the hard lines of his jaw easing as a wistful smile ghosted across his lips. “You and I, Kayra, we’re threads of the same story. Even when we’re pages apart, we’re still bound by the same spine.”

    The poetic truth of his words stilled her. She had tried to convince herself that this connection was an illusion, a trick of the mind conjured by moonlight and the lonely whispers of the night. But every time he stood before her, flesh and blood, the undeniable truth resurfaced.

    A sudden breeze stirred, carrying with it the scent of jasmine and wet earth, and Kayra shivered. Without thinking, Noir moved closer, his arms encircling her shoulders. The touch was firm yet gentle, a promise that he would hold her, even if only for this fleeting time. She felt his heart beat against her own, their rhythms aligning in a way that made the rest of the world seem silent.

    “Tell me,” she said, her voice barely audible, “why does it hurt so much when you leave?”

    Noir looked down, eyes shadowed with a torment he had never fully spoken. The moments of connection between them were always sweet, but the partings left a chasm that echoed long after. “Because every time I walk away, it feels like tearing apart something that was meant to be whole,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “But I come back because I can’t stay away.”

    Kayra closed her eyes again, this time to steady the surge in her chest. She knew this feeling—the intoxication of being known, of being seen. And she knew the ache that followed, the quiet void that expanded when he was gone. But tonight, she let herself bask in the moment. She tipped her head up and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, a whisper of contact that spoke of acceptance, of an unspoken understanding.

    The night continued to deepen around them, the moon now high in the sky, casting its silver light like a spotlight on two souls who had found each other in the labyrinth of life. The forest remained still, as if paying homage to a love that defied boundaries, a connection that felt as old as the stars themselves.

    In that stolen space between heartbeats, between moonlight and shadow, Kayra and Noir held each other, knowing that whatever the dawn would bring, this moment was theirs. A fleeting eternity where neither needed words, where the language of touch, of breath, and of heartbeat spoke louder than anything else.

    And so, as the first bird sang the arrival of morning, they stood entwined, caught in the delicate web of love, loss, and the inevitability of longing that defined their story.