Muhabbat ki haqeeqat - II

muhabat aik afaqi jazba ha. is k beshumar roop hoty han. ik insan ki dosray insan se muhabat,dosto ki muhabat,behan bhai ki muhabat, ma baap ki muhabat, aulad ki muhabat, aur SAB SE BARH KAR MAKHLOOQ KI APNY KHALIQ SE MUHBBAT. ye sab muhabbaten han jo insan karta ha, karta rahy ga. Ghor karo to in me koi be-gharz nahi ha. insan kitna hi be-gharz ho, magar kisi dosray insan se muhabat karty huay mukamal tor par be-gharz nahi ho sakta.koi gharz na ho to tanhae door karny ki gharz to ha. Akyla to koi nahi reh sakta. insaan mashrati janwar ha. to taluq rakhny ki gharz to aik bari sachae ha. DOSTI KA BHI YAHI HAAL HA. koi HAM KHAYAL, jo acha b lagta ho. is se mil kar bat kar ky dil khush hota ha. Gharz to Hue na. aur ikhtilaf ho jaiey ,,,, sangeen nouyat ka ikhtilaf ho jiaiye to ADMI is dost ko chor dyta ha. koi aur dost talash kar lyta ha. Bhai dost se bari zarurat hota ha. Ak bohot apna, jo har kary waqt me sath rahy.... hamara dukh bantay... tasaali dy. Lakin aj kal bohot kamm bhai bhai hony ka farz pora karty han. aur muhabbat , ye to bohot mushkil se milti ha. ya milti hi nahi.
Maa baap se aulaad ki gharz hoti ha, bulkay is ki had nahi hoti. aadmi ko itna kuch milta ha maa baap se. wo in se muhabbat na kary to kia kary aur KHUDA ki MUHABBAT! wo to ha hi MOHTAAJ ki muhabbat jo wo is se karta ha, jo is ki har zarurat pori karta ha. wo maa baap se BARH KAR KHAYAL RAKHNY WALA HA. ZARURATEN PORI KARNY WALA HA. Bss MAA BAAP KI AULAD SE MUHABBAT SE SE MUKHTALIF HA. Magar nihayet be-gharz hony ka bawajood gharz se bilkul paak wo bhi nahi ha. BAAP ko aulad se aik masoom c gharz hoti ha k wo is ki nasal ko agay barhaiye ga, marnay k bad is k nam ko zinda rakhy . Haan maa ki muhabbat bilkul be-gharz ha, is ka bss chaly to aulaad ka har dukh khud ly ly aur usay dukh se mehfooz kar dy.

KHALIQ KI ALLAH KI MUHABBAT hi sab se khalis , sab se be-gharz aur baak muhabbat ha, kiun k isay kisi sy kuch nahi chahiyey. wo sab kuch banany wala ha har chez ka malik ha. koi usay kuch dy nai sakta, isay na hi zarurat ha. lakin humen us ki rehmat aur barkat ki zaruat ha.

Muhabbat admi ALLAH se kary ya is ki makhlooq se, wo ibadat hoti ha. shart ye ha k wo Paak mohabbat ho aur muhabbat karny wala har pal ye yaad rakhy k isay aur is k mehboob ko ALLAH ne banaya ha... Ehsaan kia. Aur yahi nahi, in k dilo me muhabbat b isi na daali, warna wo yek-ja nahi ho sakty thy. Ye to ALLAH ka ehsaan ha. Is KHAYAL K SATH MUHBBAT IBADAT HO GE. AUR IS K BAGHER HAWIS.


Ishq ka sheen by aleemul haq haqi

Muhabbat ki Haqeeqat - I

Muhabbat karnay waly ko apny mehbob se koi gharz, koi talab nahi hoti. wo to apnay mehboob se badlay me kuch b nahi mangta. muhabbad bhi nahi, iltfat ki aik nazar bhi nahi. wo to bss muhabbat kiye jata ha , kiu k muhabbad aik khud kar jazba ha, jo dil me khud ba khud ubharta ha. to muhabbat karny wala to muhabat karny par majbor ho jata ha. wo koi shart aed nahi karta. ye muhabat nahi k mehbob jawab me muhabat na dy to usay chor kar kisi aur se muhabat kar lo. YE to PHIR karobar HUA.

Upper wala khayal ki tarah kisi ko muhabbat bhi somp dyta ha.

muhabbad pak aur buland jazba ha. aur ye mehdood bhi nahi. ma bayty se muhabat karti ha, Banda mabood se muhabat karta ha. muhabat kisi ko kisi seb ho sakti ha. KISI MARD ko KISI AURAT se ho sakti ha. LAKIN Muhabbad ki Bunyad JISM KABHI NAHI hota.  Is ki buniyad achy ausaaf bhi nahi hoty. Mehboob ka zahir bhi nahi hota, kiu k muhabbad lafani jazba ha. Admi borha ho jaiye to JISM dhal jata ha. Muhabbat kabhi khatam nahi hoti, chahy koi burae b samnay a jaiye. chahy Jism dhal jaiye, chahy Insan mar jaiye.

Insaan dosray insaan se sirf muhabat hi kar sakta ha, lakin insaan ko ALLAH se muhabbat karni chahiye kisi fani shye se nahi, KABhi ISHQ nahi. kiu k isht to Sirf Aik MABOOD ALLAH se hi ho sakta ha. Aur jis ko ho jiaye wo khushnaseeb ha.

lines from Ishq Ka Sheen by Aleemul-haq-haqi

Memorable quotes for Jane Eyre

Jane Eyre: [narrating] My name is Jane Eyre... I was born in 1820, a harsh time of change in England. Money and position seemed all that mattered. Charity was a cold and disagreeable word. Religion too often wore a mask of bigotry and cruelty. There was no proper place for the poor or the unfortunate. I had no father or mother, brother or sister. As a child I lived with my aunt, Mrs. Reed of Gateshead Hall. I do not remember that she ever spoke one kind word to me.

---

[last lines]
Jane Eyre: [narrating] As the months went past, he came to see the light once more as well as to feel its warmth; to see first the glory of the sun, and then the mild splendour of the moon, and at last the evening star. And then one day, when our firstborn was put into his arms, he could see that the boy had inherited his own eyes as they once were... large, brilliant and black.

---

Jane Eyre: I should never mistake informality for insolence. One, I rather like; the other, no free-born person would submit to, even for a salary.
Edward Rochester: Humbug! Most free-born people would submit to anything for a salary.

---

Mrs. Reed: [introducing Jane] This, Mr. Brocklehurst, is the child in question. She is the daughter of my late sister's husband by an unfortunate union which we in the family prefer to forget. For some years she's lived in this house.

---

Dr. Rivers: You keep your schoolroom uncommonly cold, Mr. Brocklehurst.
Henry Brocklehurst: A matter of principle, Dr. Rivers. Our aim is not to pamper the body but strengthen the soul.
Dr. Rivers: I should not have thought that a bad cough was any aid to salvation, but then I'm not a theologian. Good day, sir.

---

Edward Rochester: I put my requests in an absurd way. The fact is once and for all, I do not wish to treat you as an inferior, but I've baffled through varied experiences with many men of many nations and roved over the globe while you've spent your whole life with one set of people in one house. Don't you agree it gives me the right to be masterful and abrupt?
Jane Eyre: Do as you please, sir. You pay me 30 pounds a year for receiving your orders.

---

Edward Rochester: Are you always drawn to the loveless and unfriended?
Jane Eyre: When it's deserved.

Jane Eyre - A Love Story Every Woman Would Die a Thousand Deaths to Live!

The movie begins in Gateshead Hall, where a ten-year-old orphan named Jane Eyre is living with her mother's brother's family. The brother, surnamed Reed, dies shortly after adopting Jane. His wife, Mrs. Sarah Reed, and their three children (John, Eliza and Georgiana) neglect and abuse Jane, for they resent Mr. Reed's preference for the little orphan in their midst. In addition, they dislike Jane's plain looks and quiet yet passionate character. Thus, the novel begins with young John Reed bullying Jane, who retaliates with unwonted violence. Jane is blamed for the ensuing fight, and Mrs. Reed has two of the servants drag her off and lock her up in the red-room, the unused chamber where Mr. Reed had died. Still locked in that night, Jane sees a light and panics, thinking that her uncle's ghost has come. Her scream rouses the house, but Mrs. Reed just locks up Jane for longer. Then Jane has a fit and passes out. A doctor, Mr. Lloyd, comes to Gateshead Hall and suggests that Jane go to school.

Mr. Brocklehurst is a cold, cruel, self-righteous, and highly hypocritical clergyman who runs a charity school called Lowood. He accepts Jane as a pupil in his school. Jane is infuriated, however, when Mrs. Reed tells him, falsely, that Jane is a liar. After Brocklehurst departs, Jane bluntly tells Mrs. Reed how she hates the Reed family. Mrs. Reed, so shocked that she is scarcely capable of responding, leaves the drawing room in haste.

Jane finds life at Lowood to be grim. Miss Maria Temple, the youthful superintendent, is just and kind, but another teacher, Miss Scatcherd, is sour and abusive. Mr. Brocklehurst, visiting the school for an inspection, has Jane placed on a tall stool before the entire assemblage. He then tells them that "...this girl, this child, the native of a Christian land, worse than many a little heathen who says its prayers to Brahma and kneels before Juggernautthis girl isa liar!"

Later that day, Miss Temple allows Jane to speak in her own defence. After Jane does so, Miss Temple writes to Mr. Lloyd. His reply agrees with Jane's, and she is cleared of Mr. Brocklehurst's accusation.

Mr. Brocklehurst embezzles the school's funds to support his family's luxurious lifestyle while hypocritically preaching to others a doctrine of privation and poverty. As a result, Lowood's eighty pupils must make do with cold rooms, poor meals, and thin garments whilst his family lives in comfort. The majority become sick from a typhus epidemic that strikes the school.

Jane is impressed with one pupil, Helen Burns, who accepts Miss Scatcherd's cruelty and the school's deficiencies with passive dignity, practising the Christian teaching of turning the other cheek. Jane admires and loves the gentle Helen and they become best friends, but Jane cannot bring herself to emulate her friend's behaviour. While the typhus epidemic is raging, Helen dies of consumption in Jane's arms.

Many die in the typhus epidemic, and Mr. Brocklehurst's neglect and dishonesty are laid bare. Several rich and kindly people donate to put up a new school building in a more healthful location. New rules are made, and improvements in diet and clothing are introduced. Though Mr. Brocklehurst can not be overlooked, due to his wealth and family connections, new people are brought in to share his duties of treasurer and inspector, and conditions improve dramatically at Lowood.

The narrative resumes eight years later. Jane has been a teacher at Lowood for two years, but she thirsts for a better and brighter future. She advertises for a governess and is hired by Mrs. Alice Fairfax, housekeeper of the Gothic manor of Thornfield, to teach a rather spoiled but amiable little French girl named Adèle Varens. A few months after her arrival at Thornfield, Jane goes for a walk and aids a horseman who takes a fall.He is rude to her and calls her a 'witch' but she helps him back on the horse. On her return to Thornfield, Jane discovers that the horseman is her employer, Mr. Edward Rochester, a moody, charismatic gentleman nearly twenty years older than Jane. Adèle is his ward.

Rochester seems quite taken with Jane. He repeatedly summons her to his presence and talks with her. Adèle, he says, is the illegitimate daughter of a French opera singer, Celine, who was his mistress for a time, though he doubts Adèle is his daughter. That same night, Jane hears eerie laughter coming from the hallway, and upon opening the door she sees smoke coming from Rochester's chamber. Rushing into his room, she finds his bed curtains ablaze and douses them with water, saving Rochester's life. Rochester says a matronly servant named Grace Poole is responsible, yet does not fire her, and Grace Poole shows no signs of remorse or guilt. Jane is amazed and perplexed. But by this time, Rochester and Jane are in love with each other, though they do not show it.

Soon after the fire incident, Mr. Rochester departs Thornfield, reportedly to the Continent. He returns expectedly with a party of high-class ladies and gentlemen, including Miss Blanche Ingram, a beautiful but shallow socialite whom he seems to be courting. The party is interrupted when a strange old gypsy woman arrives and insists on telling everyone's fortunes. When Jane's turn comes, the gypsy tells her a great deal about her life and feelings, much to Jane's surprise. Then the gypsy reveals "herself" to be Rochester in disguise.

That night, after a piercing scream wakes everyone in the house, Mr. Rochester comes to Jane for help in attending to a wounded guest, a certain Mr. Richard Mason, a queer Englishman from the West Indies. Mr. Mason has been stabbed and bitten in the arm, and a surgeon comes and secretly whisks the wounded man away. Again, Rochester hints that Grace Poole is responsible.

Jane receives word that Mrs. Reed, upon hearing of her son John's apparent suicide after leading a life of dissipation and debt, has suffered a near-fatal stroke and is asking for her. So Jane returns to Gateshead, where she encounters her cousins Eliza and Georgiana Reed. Eliza has become a self-righteous puritan. Georgiana, much admired for her beauty in London a season or two ago, has become plump and vapid, always moaning about her love affair with Lord Edwin Vere. Eliza, out of envy, had prevented their marriage. The two sisters despise each other and are barely on speaking terms.

Although she rejects Jane's efforts at reconciliation, Mrs. Reed gives Jane a letter that she had previously withheld out of spite. The letter is from Jane's father's brother, John Eyre, notifying her of his intent to leave her his fortune upon his death. Mrs. Reed dies in the night, and no one mourns her. Eliza enters a convent in France, and Georgiana travels to London, eventually marrying a wealthy but worn-out society man.

After Jane returns to Thornfield, she and Rochester gradually reveal their love for each other.Though Jane accepts Rochester's proposal of marriage, she is plagued by doubts about it. She feels she is Rochester's inferior and continues to address him as "master" even after they are engaged. Her forebodings deepen when a strange, savage-looking woman sneaks into her room one night and rips her wedding veil in two. Yet again, Rochester attributes the incident to Grace Poole.

The wedding goes ahead nevertheless. But during the ceremony in the church, the mysterious Mr. Mason and a lawyer step forth and declare that Rochester cannot marry Jane because his own wife is still alive. Rochester bitterly admits this fact, explaining that his wife is a violent madwoman whom he keeps imprisoned in the attic, where Grace Poole looks after her. But Grace Poole imbibes gin immoderately, occasionally giving the madwoman an opportunity to escape. It is Rochester's mad wife who is responsible for the strange events at Thornfield. Rochester nearly committed bigamy, and kept this fact from Jane. The wedding is cancelled, and Jane is heartbroken.

Back at the manorhouse, Rochester explains further. Under pressure from his father to make an advantageous marriage, and lured by Bertha's vast inheritance and personal beauty, Rochester had as a young man married Bertha. When Bertha became openly insane, Rochester locked her up in Thornfield and departed for a life of sensuality in Europe.

Rochester then asks Jane to accompany him to the south of France, where they will live as husband and wife, even though they cannot be married. But Jane refuses to give up her self-respect by becoming a rich man's mistress, even though she loves him still.

But she does not trust herself to refuse a second time. In the dead of night, Jane slips out of Thornfield and takes a coach far away to the north of England. When her money gives out, she sleeps outdoors on the moor and reluctantly begs for food. One night, freezing and starving, she comes to Moor House (or Marsh End) and begs for help. St. John Rivers, the young clergyman who lives in the house, admits her.

Jane, who gives the false surname of Elliott, quickly recovers under the care of St. John and his two kind sisters, Diana and Mary. St. John arranges for Jane to teach a charity school for girls in the village of Morton. At the school, Jane observes the interactions of St. John, a cold and stern man but a truly devout Christian, and Rosamond Oliver, a beautiful but silly young heiress. Jane comes to believe that the two are in love, and boldly says so to St John. St. John confesses his love but says that Rosamond would make a most unsuitable wife for a missionary, which he intends to become.

One snowy night, St. John unexpectedly arrives at Jane's cottage. Suspecting Jane's true identity, he relates Jane's experiences at Thornfield and says that her uncle, John Eyre, has died and left Jane his fortune of 20,000 pounds. After confessing her true identity, Jane arranges to share her inheritance with the Riverses, who turn out to be her cousins.

Not long afterwards, St. John decides to travel to India and devote his life to missionary work. He asks Jane to accompany him as his wife. Jane consents to go to India but adamantly refuses to marry him because they are not in love. St. John is not cruel or hypocritical like Mr. Brocklehurst, but he does not respect other people's feelings when they conflict with his own. He continues to pressure Jane to marry him, and his forceful personality almost causes her to capitulate. But at that moment she hears what she thinks is Rochester's voice calling her name, and this gives her the strength to reject St. John completely.

The next day, Jane takes a coach to Thornfield. But only blackened ruins lie where the manorhouse once stood. An innkeeper tells Jane that Rochester's mad wife set the fire and then committed suicide by jumping from the roof. Rochester rescued the servants from the burning mansion but lost a hand and his eyesight in the process. He now lives in an isolated manor house called Ferndean. Going to Ferndean, Jane reunites with Rochester. At first, he fears that she will refuse to marry a blind cripple, but Jane accepts him without hesitation.

Speaking from the vantage point of ten years, Jane describes their married life as blissful.

I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth. I hold myself supremely blestblest beyond what language can express; because I am my husbands life as fully as he is mine. No woman was ever nearer to her mate than I am: ever more absolutely bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh. I know no weariness of my Edwards society: he knows none of mine, any more than we each do of the pulsation of the heart that beats in our separate bosoms; consequently, we are ever together. To be together is for us to be at once as free as in solitude, as gay as in company. We talk, I believe, all day long: to talk to each other is but a more animated and an audible thinking. All my confidence is bestowed on him, all his confidence is devoted to me; we are precisely suited in characterperfect concord is the result.

Meanwhile, St. John has gone to India as a missionary and dies there. However, some claim St. John does not die in the scope of the book. Jane writes, "I know that a stranger's hand will write to me next, to say that the good and faithful servant has been called at length into the joy of his Lord. While his death may be implied, it is never clearly stated.

Rochester eventually recovers sight in one eye, and can see their first-born son when the baby is born.

Page last updated by thats_evolution, 9 months ago

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Manzile Apni Jagah Hai Raaste Apni Jagah

Manzilo Pe Aa Ke Lootate Hai Dilon Ke Caaravaan
Kashtiya Saahil Pe Aksar Doobati Hai Pyaar Ki

Manzile Apni Jagah Hai Raaste Apni Jagah
Jab Kadam Hi Saath Naa De To Musaafir Kyaa Kare
Yoon To Hai Humdard Bhi Aur Humsafar Bhi Hai Meraa
Badh Ke Koyi Haath Naa De Dil Bhalaa phir Kyaa Kare
Manzile Apni Jagah Hai Raaste Apni Jagah

Doobne Waale Ko Tinke Kaa Sahaaraa Hi Bahot
Dil Bahal Jaaye Fakat Itnaa Ishaaraa Hi Bahot
Itne Par Bhi Aasmaan Waalaa Giraa De Bijaliyaan
Koi Batlaa De Zaraa Yeh Doobtaa phir Kyaa Kare
Manzile Apni Jagah Hai Raaste Apni Jagah

Pyaar Karnaa Jurm Hai To Jurm Hum Se Ho Gayaa
Kaabil-E-Maafi Huaa Karte Nahin Aise Gunaah
Sangdil Hai Yeh Jahaan Aur Sangdil Meraa Sanam
Kyaa Kare Josh-E-Junoon Aur Hauslaa phir Kyaa Kare
Manzile Apni Jagah Hai Raaste Apni Jagah
Jab Kadam Hi Saath Naa De To Musaafir Kyaa Kare
Yoon To Hai Humdard Bhi Aur Humsafar Bhi Hai Meraa
Badh Ke Koyi Haath Naa De Dil Bhalaa phir Kyaa Kare

Ek Ajab Si Paheli Hai Zindagi,

Ek Ajab Si Paheli Hai Zindagi,
Sabke Saath Hote Huye Bhi, Akeli Hai Zindagi,

Kabhi Tu Ek Piyaara Sa Armaan Hai Zindagi,
To Kabhi Dard Se Bharaa Tufaan Hai Zindagi

Kabhi To Gulon Se Bharaa Gulistan Hai Zindagi,
To Kabhi Kanton Se Bhaara Raasta Hai Zindagi,

Kabhi Phulon Jaisi Masoom Ho Jati Hai Zindagi,
To Kubhi Gunahon Ka Bojh Ban Jati Hai Zindagi

Koi To Bataa De Mujhe Kya Hai Zindagi ?
Sunaa Hai Chand Roz Ki Mehmaan Hai Zindagi,

Zindagi Ko Chhod Ek Din Jaana Padegaa,
Mott Ko Uss Pal Galen Lagaana Paregaa,

Zindagi Se Chahe Jitnaa Piyaar Tum Kar Lo,
Hoti To Aakhir Bewaffa Hai Zindagi

Zindagi Ne Zindagi bhar Ghum Diye....

:: i leave you in the care of ALLAH as nothing is lost that’s under HIS care ::

Zindagi Ne Zindagi bhar Ghum Diye,
Jitane Bhi Mausam Diye Sab Num Diye.

Life is full of struggle. Life is so very cruel. Whatever it gives it takes the best test possible. In other words it gives only to those who deserves and doesn't give to the person who cannot cope up with its fights.

Jab Tadapata Hai Kabhi Apana Koi
Khun Ke Aansu Rula De Bebasi

We see someone dying or struggling to death infront of us but we are helpless and can do nothing. We have to simply drink that haplessness. We are there. We are useless.

Ji Ke Phir Karana Kya Mujhko Aisi Jindagi
Jisane Jakhmon Ko Nahi Marham Diye
Zindagi Ne Zindagi bhar Ghum Diye

Is this cruel life worth living for. This life never gave us the medicines for our inner wounds. We search our own treatment and apply. Life gives what it has to give. It is we who have to suffer all sorts.

Apane Bhi Pesh Aaye Hamase Ajnabee
Waqt Ki Saajish Koi Samajha Nahi
Beiraada Kuchh Khataaye Hamase Ho Gayi

Life is so very colour changing. People whom we consider our very own become strangers sometimes and in times when we really need them. We can never understand the traits & plan of the time. We are mere puppets. We are nothing.

Raah Mein Patthar Meri Har Dam Diye
Jindagi Ne Jindagi bhar Ghum Diye
Jitane Bhi Mausam Diye Sab Num Diye

You have lots of difficulties to face in life.

Ik Mukkamal Kashamkash Hai Jindagi
Usane Hamase Ki Kabhi Na Dosti
Jab Mili Mujhko Aansu Ke Woh tofe De Gayi

Life is simply a struggle. Its just struggle and struggle. Life is never a good friend of ours. Whenever we meet life it leaves us with lots of snobs and sniffles and tears.

Has Sake Hum Aise Mauke Kam Diye
Zindagi Ne Zindagi bhar Ghum Diye
Jitane Bhi Mausam Diye Sab Num Diye

Very rarely does it gives us chances to laugh. Isn't it.

This is the song which I have been listening to these days. In all the ways the lyrics of this seems so true and appealing. Its totally based on the hard part of life itself. Sometimes it really happens like this. Isn't it?

Aate Hain Chale Jaate Hain

Aate Hain Chale Jaate Hain
Jaane Wale Kabhi Kabhi
Yahan Apne Pyar Se
Logon Ke Dilon Mein
Yaadgaar Ban Jaate Hain
Aate Hain Chale Jaate Hain Aate Hain

Rona Na Udaas Hona Na
Yeh Aansoo Khona Na
Yahan Na Daaman Bhigo Na Kabhi
Paana Hai Kabhi Kuch Paana Hai
Kabhi Kuch Khona Hai
Yahn Jo Hona Hai Hoga Wohi

Yehi Zindagi Hai
Yahan Jiye Wohi Log Jo
Saare Gham Bhulake
Aansooyon Mein Muskurate Hain

Aate Hain Chale Jaate Hain Aate Hain

Chalna Hain Humein To Chalna Hain
Akele Chalna Hain
Koi Bhi Ho Ya Na Ho Humsfar
Raahon Mein Chale Ya Hum Ruke
Ruke Ya Hum Chale
Kahin Bhi Rukta Nahin Yeh Safar

Aana Jaana Lagey Rahe
Jeevan Ki Raahon Mein
Raahein Wohi Rehte Hain
Raahi Badal Jaate Hain

Aate Hain Chale Jaate Hain Aate Hain

Raaton Ke Andhere Raaton Ke
Ghanerein Chhaye Mein
Chhupa To Hoga Savera Kahin
Aayega Savera Aayega
Ujale Layega
Andhera Hoga Hamesha Nahin

Maane Yahan Haar Na Jo
Kabhi Kisi Haal Mein
Wohi Yahan Phool
Kabhi Kaanton Mein Khilate Hain

Aate Hain Chale Jaate Hain
Jaane Wale Kabhi Kabhi
Yahan Apne Pyar Se
Logon Ke Dilon Mein
Yaadgaar Ban Jaate Hain

Main kal bhi chup thee , Main aaj bhi chup hoon

Main aaj bhi chup hoon
Main kal bhi chup thee
Loag kehtay hain kuch to bolo
Apni khamoshi ke band kholo
Main sochti hoon kya boloon
Jo kuch mere dil main hai kis se kahoon?
Un say jo nahin jantay
Jazbon ki haqeeqat kya hai
Rooh kay sannaton main ghulti hooi
Qatra qatra see azeeat kya hai
Jo samajhtay hain ke insaam faqt
Chand ashyaa-e-zaroorat ka hai mohtaj
Yeh mohabbatain yeh rafaqatain
Yeh khuloos-o-wafa ki rahatain
Sab bay mani lafzon ke gharonday hain
Jin main baaith kar insaan
Haqeeqaton se faraar chahta hai
Magar meri soach in say mukhtalif hai
Aur ye he tanao ye he nafraton ka baais hai
Main kal bhi chup thee
Main aaj bhi chup hoon

chala jaoon ga,chala jaoon ga

Teri mushkil na berhaoon ga chala jaoon ga
Ashk ankhon mein chupaoon ga chala jaoon ga

Apni dehleez pe kuch dair para rehnay de
Jaisay he hosh mein aoon ga chala jaoon ga

Mudaton baad main aya hoon puranay gher mein
Khud ko jee bhar k rulaoon ga chala jaoon ga

Un mehallaat se kuch b nahi lena mujh ko
Bass tumhen dekhnay aoon ga chala jaoon ga

Chandd yaden mujhe bachon ki terha pyari hain
Un ko seenay se lagaoon ga chala jaoon ga

khawab lene koi aye k na aye koi
main to sadaa lagaoon ga chala jaoon ga

Every single word is the real, hard and very much felt truth. (STORY)

Every single word is the real, hard and very much felt truth. Of course the names have been changed.

Read it all as it takes time to get going.

Do I still think about her? Yes. From time to time, when the weather is just right, a snowflake of thought passes by and finds a place to settle into an empty vacant space in my mind left behind by a previous thought on another subject. The snowflake stays around for a moment or two. I think about it, what could have been, and then before long it begins to melt away. Untouchable, simply a drop of water that once looked like something else.

Spring 2007

I recall that the morning of the 13th started out a lot like any other typical day at the office. The afternoon however was anything but. I sat at my desk, alongside 50 or so others sat at theirs, looking at a computer screen which sat atop of our desks. We were all watching the same thing. A government minister in a large room full of half drunk people out for a right old �jolly� that day stepped forward toward the overly large podium which almost swallowed her up. The room she was in was a few hundred miles away but we all sat staring at our screen watching it over the web with many wanting to be there. Next to the very big boss arranged in neatly straight tables sat representatives from the ten finalists. Any minute now the winner was going to be announced.

Our team was all there, almost. I somehow seemed to have drawn the short straw. Back at the office I sat and watched it all over the internet. The very big boss smiled more than normal and I could feel the tension rise in the air of that far distant room. Then it happened. The minister began to describe the winning bid. �They involved local people and worked towards producing real world solutions to real world problems�. At first I didn�t give it a second thought but after a short delay my brain started putting two and two together, she was describing our bid.

�And the winner is�XXXXXXXXX�.

I still work there so I�m not going to be that silly.

The office erupted in riotous noise as people cheered and clapped. Everyone stopped work, a few somehow managed to produce a couple of small bottles of something, me thinks not diet coke. A few People looked up from their screens over the partial wall dividers common to modern offices and looked at me with a broad grim.

Thinking back I should have walked out the building there and then never to return. My life would have been so much simpler, so much quieter and I would look a lot younger.

It took a lot to get where we needed to be

We won. That gave us a lot of money, not enough as I would later discover, to try out things no one had done before, to look at ways of using techy stuff to connect people together and then with others like the council and the NHS to name a few. In the trade they are called service providers both statutory and voluntary sector.

The whole thing had gone on for moths beforehand and had really taxed and tested me to the limit on occasions. It had been hard work, long hours all wrapped up with little thanks and lots of expectations on us as �the experts��bloody typical of our place.

For a good few years before we entered the competition our small but perfectly formed team had learnt the magic art of how to get people with no real understanding or skill with technology to use it. �Social inclusion with ICT� they called it. Even today we are still seen as the exemplar programme copied by many. We had taught a granny how to do Sage accounting, an IT illiterate alcoholic how to speak in public places and make sense, a woman to chat with her relative across the planet and everyone of them was scared witless of technology before we found them. Our team had also been quietly going about the business of influencing and guiding internal company policy. Making people think less of �corporate business� and more of �people business�.

It had all been such an uphill struggle. When I first started in 2003 the team didn�t even sit together. We were looked on as a joke, a token gesture, even the big cheeses didn�t really care if our work actually worked but work it did. It�s on the back of our years of skills and experience that we entered our bid based on people not technology, odd really given it was supposed to be about technology.

During the run up to the award we had passed through a grueling series of local and regional finals were other partnerships had competed against each other. It was the first time anything like this had been done it was unheard of. On some occasions the other groups were in the room when we gave a presentation, the whole thing felt very strange.

Our group eventually made it to the last round.

A long time had passed since we started out on the journey. From the start up to winning the competition almost 16 months had passed. The whole thing had taken a lot out of me. I had started out optimistic, enthusiastic and yes even positive but the whole thing had changed me. It would take me a further year to finally snap. For that proverbial last straw to be placed on my back and finally break it.

In essence it was a joint effort from a small core of around 5 people with some help from many more on the outer edges. Many of the contacts I had made in the last few years where used and abused by some of the team to get what we wanted. I for one regret this. It wasn�t obvious to me at the time as I was far too busy to notice. Some in our organisation have a �tell� culture about them. They would use their position to force contributions and involvement. I didn�t work like that. I use an �ask� approach, involve and encourage involvement back in return. This approach has opened doors for me which were often closed to others around me in our organisation.

The Dummy Spitters

Of course when you come first you soon discover there are in essence two types of people in the world when you win something.
The first type come out first, I imagine that�s why they�re called the first types. They pat you on the back wish you well. These people are nice and polite with smiles and drinks and an occasional free lunch in an effort to get on your good side. Now I don�t mind these types. If you play the game well you can get them to commit to future working arrangements which will benefit you both.

It�s the second type which really pissed me off.

During the initial bid stage of the competition, some months before we won, we �did the rounds� asking for help, advice, involvement. In return we would offer a slice of the winning cake, should we win, to those involved in the partnership work. That�s how the deal was offered. Collective involvement for shared benefit, my mantra in life.

Some took us up on the offer many, in fact most, didn�t both with us. We carried out an endless non stop campaign of promotion to raise awareness and tell the whole area what we were doing, asking for help as we went. Now the problem with our area is that there is far too much going on. It�s a happening place. People compete for funds and customers, protect their interests and often get blinkered by their own internal issues. It�s a shame. I spent much of my time moving around the city and see a desire for working in partnership but funds are limited and opportunities are so tight that people often withdraw from real partnership relationships and only really get together to make sure they aren�t missing anything. If only people would treat each other like humans and not money pots. Anyway, soon after we won the second type of person started coming out of the woodwork.

The first ones of the second types were our own people. They complained bitterly that they had no idea of what was going on and that we should have informed them. In truth they were covering there back because they couldn�t be bothered to get involved originally and they didn�t want to look bad in the eyes of their constituents.

I don�t like our bosses. They are big mouthed people who have nothing better to do than to offer poor, biased, uneducated and ill informed advice. I for one am sick of people jumping whenever a boss type says something. We are employed by the company not them. I have only really met a couple who are worth the time of day.

Following closely on their heel were another type of second dummy spitters, other departments.

Now we had spent many moths attempting to recruit many from other areas of our organisation to help out and get involved. It was a mammoth task and we were almost always met with at best a blank stare and at worst a closed door. After we won they started complaining about lack of consultation with them. One team in particular whose job it was to promote development complained bitterly. I suspect because we were doing a better job of connecting people using technology than they were with their old and out of date bully boy methods. I am proud of the work my team and I have delivered. I say delivered because much of the organisation is simply in the process of ticking their own boxes and generating enough paperwork too keep even the most enthusiastic auditor happy. Most staff sit in a crappy office with crappy manager doing crappy mundane things. I had the luxury of making a real difference in the lives of others and I took every chance possible to do so.

Eventually the dummy spitting did die down a little but even to this day the fire of jealousy still burns bright in the heart of some.

Superman to the Rescue

Well some months had gone by since we won and many were starting to ask what was going on. It was a fair question to ask but in truth the wheels just take a long time to turn in our part of the world. Then one day I heard we were going to get and temporary Director someone to �tide us over�� more like �**** us over�.

In he walked all smug and full of apparent confidence with a grin that would make a cheshire cat jealous. He had come to us from a significant blue chip company and was costing us �670 per day. Boy he must be good. His primary task was to set up the top level documentation for the programme, the documents which would outline the vision, the blueprint, the very direction we would take over the next 3 years. This he did very well, they made for excellent reading but it is his disastrous secondary task which will take us a long time to recover from if we ever do. On his travels he had been
Promising everything to everyone, free this, free that, specialist tech staff to some schools and gaming equipment to young people. By the time we realised what he was doing it was too late. It would take us several months to extract ourselves from most of his promises. I really don�t know to this day why he was brought in. His paperwork was fine but for his daily fee I was expecting perfection.

Eventually the permanent Director arrived. What a different type of man he was, he was my hero.

Danny came from an equally impressive blue chip company but seemed to have something in abundance which is normally lacking of people at his level, he was very human.

I could talk to him, he would listen to me and in return we learnt much about each other. By his own confession he had learnt to trust my opinion and respect the work I had done. He would ask for advice on problem issues, help on who to go to information. I also discovered we had a similar sense of humor. We very quickly struck up a friendship which was to help me later on. When my sister in law died I found him to be a great and understanding man and a tower of strength in the office on days when I really didn�t want to be there.

It begins�the pain.

How can death add to your life?

The machine was switched off and a short time later her body gave up and stopped living. My wife�s sister was dead. One day after the 5th birthday of her daughter.

Jo was a lot like her sister, my wife. When I was younger we spent time together talked, played and discussed the meaning of life, as much as teenagers know about life. Jo was a simple person she liked simple things did things in simple ways and led a simple life. Burdened by the lack of depth to her existence she often found herself struggling to keep up with her other siblings in the race from life to death. However, she somehow found a short cut to death and beat us all to it.

Cancer is a bad thing. There isn�t much good to say about it. It comes in many shapes and forms and for Jo the form it took with her was one of an impossible to cure strain so rare as to be almost never studied, she had found her shortcut to death the day she was diagnosed.

Jo had been battling cancer for a long time, almost 2 years in total. In that time there were good days and bad, days when the light of life shone allowing her to enjoy the activities she could participate in. no matter how much her limited physical ability to do so held her back. And then there were the bad days which saw her go inside her mind and become quiet and withdrawn.

The last time I saw her she was one of number of patients in the critical care unit of my local hospital. The ward was full of some very high-tech equipment all with one single aim, to keep a body alive. Around the room there were many bodies, mostly old ones with tubes, wires and all manner of items attached to the disturbingly still arrangement of bodies all laid out around the outer edge of this fantastic medical dream they called a ward. In one of the cubicles lay Jo. Her own body was bloated from the two failed operations which had been carried out on her the previous few days, her face was blue a clear sign that the dialysis machines whirring slowly behind her bed were loosing the battle.

When the time came to throw the switch to end her short life everybody started getting uncontrollably emotional, except me. I stood there saddened by the imminent loss, crying a little but in control. I said to my wife �let her go now� and soon after the switch was thrown she duly went, dying in a matter 6 seconds or so when it finally came. Did she see a bright light, was there even one there? I thought that one day I will find out for myself.

The reason for this outwardly calm persona you may ask? A part of my own former internal emotionally dry self had recently died and had been replaced with a bigger better model able to handle things like this with better ease. I enjoyed Jo�s death, not in a sick messed up way but in a way which helped me remember the person she once was, the person I played with as a young man, the girl I once fancied more that the sister I would marry some years later and the person who enriched my life with her presence whenever we met.

Wave of emotions passed over me, I stood in my quiet mental place allowing the waves to gently pass by making way for others to take their place. I felt sadness I felt loss but I also felt something else. I felt I was really alive and part of the universe.

Our world always strives for balance, hot things go cold, bright things become dark and top seeks to be bottom. The death of my sister in law was balanced by the realisation that I am still living.

Today I am sitting at my computer typing this. The world is fine with me, my wife loves me, the kids hate me, and the DIY is still waiting to be finished months after I started it�all is good in my world.

But it hasn�t always been this way.

The following is my account, as best I can recall, of an episode covering approximately 8 moths of my recent life. I say �as best� because there are moments when time seemed to go by during which my mind simply couldn�t function, it froze. I also say about 8 months because the whole things crept up on me unawares and before I knew it I had real problems.

I have learnt a series of lessons and if you�re a man who finds himself in my position (I have heard many do) then perhaps I can share with you some personal thoughts, feelings and experiences. If I can help you understand my own painful but ultimately rewarding experience then perhaps I can help you avoid some of those little bumps in the road of life, the ones you don�t notices but if your not careful have a habit of tripping you up when you least expect them to.

The first real bit � who am I?

I am in my early forties, very early. I work in a large organisation with lots of staff and have the good fortune to spend much of my time doing as I see fit across the organisation and beyond. It�s a great job it�s a hard job but hey it pays the bills and still keeps me smiling despite the constant exposure to incompetence which you can find in these sorts of places. Now this is the point were I want you to cast out of your mind the mid life crisis thing. It�s just not right and I am well sick of hearing about it. I don�t want to go bungee jumping or swimming with sharks or even buy a bike and cruise across America. So let�s put that to bed now before you continue and get the idea as you read what�s further on. Now I know requesting this is like asking you to not think of pink elephants, and what happens you immediately start thinking about pink elephants, you�re doing it right now aren�t you!

Amongst the many people I work with there is this one person who for no fault of her own became the focus of my thoughts, the target of my internal passion and to my undying shame I plotted in anyway I could to spend time with her when I could have been elsewhere. Let�s call her Rebecca or �Bec� for short. Don�t be silly I�m not going to tell you here real name now am I. In fact all the names have been changed to protect the guilty one�me. The uncomfortable descriptions of events and experiences are all painfully real and in some cases permanently etched into my soul as a result.

I first met her a few years ago when she was in a junior role. I got on well with her manager and spent time in the company of both of them. Over time her boss left and she took up a key role within her own organisation which required her to spend time with me and I with her as I was responsible for part of her development. It worked very well for me we both got along fine from what I could see.

I enjoyed her company, given our respective roles we did spend lots of working time together. We work together very well and we make each other look good to our respective superiors.

Is it worth mentioning that she is much younger than me, perhaps? In saying that it doesn�t bother me but of course as a red blooded heterosexual male I would say that wouldn�t I. Having a younger person of the opposite sex respond to your authority does stroke the ego somewhat. It didn�t feel like ego stroking to me at the time but to my shame I have since realised it was.

We both have partners and from what I can gather she is very happy with hers. She has been with him a long time and they have both gone through some tough times together, clearly a good strong long term bond there then. My own wife is the keeper of my soul, the mother of my children and the reason for my existence. For a woman who never does �keep fit�, has given birth to two kids and eats lots of any old junk food she can find she is amazingly fit. A �fit bird� she is at that and It�s worth me mentioning that I want for nothing from her in all departments.

This apparent blissful environment in which I found myself simply contributed to my false sense of security, a security which I have felt for many years. Life has been good to me on the whole. In the early years as a child it was anything but secure. Today I find it difficult to think of the violence, to recall those times when I just wanted him to sleep so my pain would fade and the bruises would have time to recover. There were times when I didn�t go to gym for fear of showing off those oh so common marks on my skin.

Don�t get me wrong. I am not after sympathy on this. I mention it only because it does come into the picture later on.

It crept up on me one day

I have always liked Bec. She is annoying, noisy, has a big mouth on some occasions but she has a rawness and a certain uncut diamond like quality about her. I see in her someone who has had limited life choices in her younger years, a lot like me really. I also saw her potential and my ability to help her reach it was very clear to me. I have a feeling that most people get to a point in life when they feel the need to lift out of them their experiences of life and impart it to another, perhaps I was at that time in my life. If so it explains a lot.

In my work life Bec is one of the few people I allow to speak to me in what some would call a disrespectful manner. I like to think that she keeps me grounded, a verbal slap in the face to keep me from going up my own arse when my self importance gets out of hand. I work with many but have learnt in life to trust few. I trust her. We share a good friendship a one of mentor and mentored. Lately from time to time roles reverse and I learn something new, I find it amusing, uncomfortable and awkward it also tells me she is learning well.

It�s at this point another key thing needs to be brought to the surface, she isn�t really my type�honest. Look I am a man and as such we are supposed to want to shag anything in a skirt, unless your gay of course but them in that case it may be a kilt, but as a supposedly civilized man I do look at her for a milli second and think of a bit of quick sex but the civilized part of me kicks in and I become a gentleman with her. Come on fellas you know what I mean. You can�t tell me you don�t think the same way when a nice woman looks you right in the eye and smiles at you. In saying that Bec doesn�t smile that much in fact she can be a right miserable cow at times but I put that down the very stressful environment she works in.

So on we went working with each other in many ways over many months in fact 1 or 2 years passed by and nothing happened, we just got on with our working lives. Bec was one of a large number of people I worked with many women. But then one day it all changed. The clouds moved in, my thoughts darkened and things changed, not for the better.

The lesson I leant here is?

No matter how long you have known someone, no matter how you see them you can wake up one morning and see them in a whole new different way. As soon as you start looking at someone in a different way try to think of the cause of it all, there will be a reason for it. You will need it when you start seeing your shrink, who will ask you for it.

Oh f%#k I�m screwed

I started looking at Bec in ways I hadn�t before. I would sit and think of what it would be like to have sex with her, to take her on the spot to be basic in every way, me Tarzan you Jane that sort of thing.

She has a good-ish body a large enough chest to keep anyone busy and a backside which is a little on the large side for me but hey no one has it all.

Before I knew it I was caught up in a downward spiral of carnal lust covered with a heavy coating of fantasy topped off with a sprinkling of mental role playing of the worst kind. Oh what a heavy stomach thumping cake it all made.

I started to manipulate my work to be with her and invite her to events. Anything I could to be with her. It was all legitimate work but as I could choose what to do I often chose in her favour. It all gave me more opportunities to look at her and desire her more and more and more. Earlier I mentioned that I agreed to support and develop the skills of the person in her role, the role she held, so of course I would spend more time with her than compared to others anyway.

I kept thinking of her, of being with her and doing things with her, thoughts I didn�t like but found to my horror I couldn�t stop, and what�s worse I didn�t want it to stop. When she was around I couldn�t function I couldn�t speak. I simply froze. All functioning went out the window like a stuntman in a Hollywood movie.

My inner mind roared with rage, my higher self tried to be calm but it was a loosing battle. I had succumbed to the dark side, it was so dark there. I was scared. Scared of loosing control, scared of what I might say, just bloody scared.

What scared me the most was myself. How can a typically normal person like me, whatever normal is these days, end up thinking and behaving like this? How could I look at someone so differently almost overnight?

I kept thinking back to the many times I have heard people say things like �I would never do that� or �I am better than that�. But there I was changing. Oddly I started remembering episodes of The Hulk, were the mild mannered Bruce Banner would get angry and change into the Hulk. �Don�t make me angry you wouldn�t like me when I�m angry�. It kept going round and round in my head. I was angry with myself for not being able to control and manage these thoughts.

I think of other woman often why not I am a red blood testosterone driven man. I window shop with the best of them but no more than others. So to somehow find myself going over the edge in some way over Bec was disturbing to me.

There was no escape from myself, how can you hide from your own mind. My thoughts began to chase me home. Eventually I couldn�t think of anything else but her. It was getting really bad dudes.

So there I was hormones raging and mind racing thinking of ways to get into her skirt. What was odd was that I didn�t need to do it I didn�t really want to but for some reason my mind kept telling me to think about it. The physical side of the relationship I have with my wife is very solid. I am blessed with being married to a person who must have been a porn star in another life. In truth Bec simply would not be able to compete. This left me even more confused.

The desire for Mills and Boon type bodice ripping and lustful practices in hay fields eventually passed by after some time to be replaced with what I was really feeling. A feeling which started our as sex, and them became love.

Looking back I really feel that I couldn�t reach the killer level, the level I had real trouble with until I passed by the cave man screw anything that moves of the opposite sex level.

Having passed by carnal lust I stopped by something I hadn�t felt before, very close to a feeling I had for another but different in some way. A feeling of caring, a feeling of wanting to be close, a feeling of need, a feeling of love. It was at this point I realised I was ****ed.

Love is a many splendid things as Matt Munro once sang. It warms the heart, gladdens the mind and makes you feel wanted. But when love is only one way it�s bad. Unrequited love is a one way trip to mental hell. A dark place full of insecurity next door to the place called madness and around the corner from oblivion.

Unrequited love is love that is not reciprocated, even though reciprocation is usually deeply desired. The beloved may not even be aware of this person's deep feelings for them. This can lead to feelings such as depression, low self-esteem, anxiety, and rapid mood swings between depression and euphoria. In extreme cases it may even lead to suicide. Being such a universal feeling, it has naturally been a frequent subject in popular culture. (WIKIPEDIA.com)

To give love is a great and caring thing. To not receive any back in return made me feel cold and lonely. Being in love, and its associated lustful desire to consummate it, but not having it reflected back to you and having no one to talk to about it to help relieve the pain is a terrible feeling.

You can be in the middle of a busy shopping centre when the feeling finally finds a way to pour out in a flood of emotion. For me it often happened in the car. Driving along I would suddenly and unexpectedly feel the waves begin crashing over me. My eyes would fill, my brow would crunch up, my mind would drift and BANG there I was alone with my pain and unable to control it. My mind clouded, my thoughts made me dizzy and confused. It felt like some out of body experience was going on in my head, it just didn�t make sense at all.

And so this all went on for many weeks. At first the waves weren�t that big. I would think and refocus for a few moments and move on. Over time a few moments because minutes became hours and eventually whole days would go by were I was a mindless idiot wandering around the emptiness of my own head looking at the scorched earth of it all. Oh the agony of it all.

Of course I couldn�t go on this way for too long. My head could only take so much before something happened.

Then �IT� happened, the day I told her how I felt about her. I don�t know how I was stupid enough to do it (actually I did eventually figure it out but more on that later). I was so stupid it makes me mad to think I could be so stupid. In fact I was so stupid I gave the good name of stupid, a place in Berkshire, a bad name.

It was after a meeting in my office. Everyone had left except Bec and I. We got to talking about something or other and being the nosy type she could see something was on my mind. I somehow started saying things, I couldn�t stop. I told her of how I felt, how if things were different I would hope for this that or whatever with her. Boy I was well stupid at this point.

To her credit she didn�t bat an eyelid, she took it in her stride. She then told me in no uncertain terms her response, �its not going to happen�. I was devastated. With it I felt my heart being torn out of my body, thrown to the ground and stomped on until it stopped beating. My very soul cried out to make the world stop to hold back time to make it all go back a few minutes so I could stop myself�but no it was too late the cat was well and truly out of the bag. She left and I retuned to my desk close to tears, what had I done.

I felt bad, really bad. I had put her in a bad place and given her enough rope to hang me with. What a fool I had been and what a risk I had taken. She now held my career and my life in her hands, what would happen next?

Later that day we spoke on the phone. I was surprised she took my call but I couldn�t go home without knowing where I stood. To my surprise she seemed very calm about it all. We talked in a very civil manner considering.

The lessons I leant here were?

1. If you start getting feelings for someone you shouldn�t be having feelings for be prepared to experience an emotional rollercoaster which will make you loose any sense of reality. You will start to think of things in a stupid way, the wrong way. You will make things up in your head and try to act them out for real in any way you can. It will all feel right to you but it�s only you fooling yourself. Get real fast.

2. It isn�t money that makes the world go round, its sex. Sex is everywhere you look and I mean everywhere. A Barbi doll has curves in all the right places and we give them to our children. What does that say to you about how soon we introduce sex into the lives of our young ones, and don�t give me that �they have no genitalia� rubbish. Ken and Barbi have shape, try telling a kid what the shape means without mentioning sex or reproductive organs, posh words for the tools of sex.

3. If you feel for someone who is already spoken for or perhaps your both spoken for, don�t be tempted to tell her how you feel in some half hearted attempt to �reach out� and make your feelings real in some way. Shut your bloody mouth and walk away.

4. Men are biologically hard wired to think of and look for sex anyway they can. It is the higher function of so called civilised behaviour which holds us back from becoming the base animal we all are underneath. It�s not our fault its nature�s. Nature has somehow made us keep the early primitive part of the brain were all the scary stuff lives, bummer.

5. Men can separate sex from love with ease but this can get us into all sorts of trouble. It allows us to wrongly rationalise our desire for other women. I have heard that the human nervous system functions at almost the speed of light. If that�s the case then from first visual contact to first sexual thought in a male takes about 300th of a millisecond. Less if he�s had a cup of coffee.

My Heavy Burdon

Work can be a right hard bastard task master when it wants to be. If you�re in a job where those who can get put upon while those who cant be bothered get away with it then welcome to my life, work life that is.

I have always tried to better myself by taking on more. By trying to climb the ladder and prove to myself and others just how much I can deliver and how much more I can take.

I am a workaholic.

In my line of business, given my employer, I am surrounded by incompetent idiots who all seem to get away with murder. One day I will find out how they do it. Do they have picture of the boss�s wife getting jiggy with the milkman, or do they have some kind of mind control skill I have yet to learn? The only thing that was certain is that after years of grinding away I was fast approaching the point of collapse through fatigue and sheer exhaustion. There was a glimmer of light. A chance to apply for an internal job which would see me pick up my own small team of staff. With staff comes the ability to delegate and to finally get one of those long lunch breaks I kept seeing everyone else enjoy every day.

The problem with this is that I would have to give up an aspect of my work which was in fact the most junior of all my responsibilities. It appears that a man of my possible future status should not lower himself to do what others thought of as menial work. Over the years I had risen in the eyes of key decision makers in the office. I am often asked to �look into things�, to �sort things out� to �find a way�. It�s what I�m good at, very good at in fact. I currently hold a position which offers me absolutely no power but a great deal of influence. I use it well, I believe, and helped many to prosper in their role and asked for little if anything in return. Because I don�t let people see me as a threat but as someone who can help extract them from **** of their own making, most of the time, I get welcomed in. I love my job it�s the best one I have ever had. I work hard and ask for little in the way of recognition.

If people realised what I did they would think differently of me, so I keep a low profile going about my work knitting together networks, groups and people. Yes it�s all sounding corny about now but you know what, I do it, it works and it makes me feel good about myself and that�s never a bad thing.

But all was not well.

I found my days stretching out ahead of me. You know that old saying �there aren�t enough hours in the day� well it was me all over. In an effort to keep up with everything I started taking work home. Sitting there on my sofa with the laptop I could easily focus on work and completely forget I was at home with the family around me eating their meals and watching the telly. I had a magic curtain which I pulled around myself blocking out all light except that given off from the screen of my laptop.

I dreaded taking leave and avoided doing so at all costs. I managed a full holiday only once a year, for the rest of it I simple took long weekends. When I would return for the full two weeks break it would take almost a month of hard slog to simply get back on the straight and level, such was my workload.

Let�s not talk about improvement to timekeeping here. I have studies Franklin timekeeping the worlds� most effective personal time management system used by many, including me. It�s is simply that I could not physically do everything in a normal day. The ability to make on the spot decisions, prioritise and plan comes as second nature to me. I have a great gut and when I combine my skill and experience with it I make good choices.

I realised one day that I was working in a nightmare of my own creation. The road to work I took each morning was like my own personal road to hell.

A light shone out

By now I was a real mess. My mind was full of bad thoughts about Bec and work was spiraling out of control. My planning skills were simply not there anymore and I was loosing the will to live, at least the will to get my arse out of bed in the morning. It was clear to me I had to do something but what and how was beyond me. My mind swirled with rage angry with myself for getting into a situation of my own making.

Now, I normally talk things through with friends and family, especially my good wife. Of course this was out of the question. So you can imagine all screwed up in the head and no were to go.

Suffering from unrequited love and a heavy workload with no one to talk to places you in a cold lonely place. A place where you can be surrounded by many people and still feel totally alone and on your own mental desert island. As humans we are social animals we welcome the company and interest of others so when you can�t excise your thoughts it begins to build and build and build until�

And so in this really messed up state I paid a visit to one of my long term customers Rio.

You know when you look back at things and can see moments when your life arrives at one of those crossroads everyone keeps talking about? Well I found that mystical cross in the road within the office of a manager who often looked to have a heavier workload than me. Not the kind of place you find a traffic junction but hey life can be funny like that.

Well I was trying to tell her that I may be moving on to other roles and that she would be seeing less of me and more of my replacement as soon as I could move into a new job I was eying up and then a funny thing happened

One minute I was telling her work type stuff and the next I was talking about how we first met and how I was really struck by how different she was and how she helped me learn to look past the outer person into the inner one.

Anyway, so there I was somehow finding myself drifting in my mind away from work and on to other utterly non work related things. Suddenly I recall telling her the real reason for wanting to move on. The need to avoid Bec. Well that really let the cat out of the bag.

Now the following is my best recollection because what happened next was well out of the ball park and even today I can�t really explain it fully.

As I spoke to Rio a tidal wave of emotions overcame me. My head started spinning my legs became leg jelly and you can add a whole list of other feeling funny type stuff you may have heard somewhere else in your life cos I was feeling it all dudes.

I tried to explain it all, I somehow felt she deserved the truth and not the lies I was telling others. Each time I tried I felt a wave engulf me. Time and time again I tried and time and time again I found myself drowning in a mental Tsunami as it engulfed my once strong mind. A mind now reduced to a shaking quivering wreck on the shore of mental instability.

So there I was lying on playa del psycho as the waves of misery swept over me. I raised my head and saw it, a light shining out of the person sat across the room from me. Rio had moved her chair forward and began to speak with a calm soothing tone which seemed to really break through my crisis. She spoke, words came out of her mouth I can�t recall what was said, I simply knew something caring and warm was coming out.

Now of all the places to find a savior in the office of a person I had known longer than Bec a lady of serine calm who I had a lot of time for. I often found her to be thoughtful and caring type, you know the type, and we all know them, the ones who are fantastic at their job but get **** upon all the time by the idiots around them.

Well anyway I kept trying to tell her stuff about how I was feeling. Then she mentioned I should talk to someone. I tried to say the one person I normally share everything with is the one person I could never ever tell, my beautiful gorgeous wife.

She leant over gave me a small piece of blue paper with a name and number on it. To this day I still have this little bit of scrap paper tucked away, just in case I ever need it. The number didn�t look familiar but his name was Kevin.

Now I know we all have our troubles from time to time but I have to say I was very shocked to discover that this kind and most warm hearted person needed to talk to a counselor herself. I felt shocked and humbled that this person was reaching out. I say this as she works in possibly the worst environment I have ever come across. A place where people seem only interested in protectionism, in scape goating anyone but themselves. I hadn�t ever thought badly of her, she always seemed to me to be in the right job but just in the wrong place. So for her to reach out in the way he did really took me by surprise, a very nice surprise at that.

You know there are angels on this earth. They pop up in the strangest places. They help you across the road when you�re laden down with shopping, give you money to get the bus home when your skint and look after you when your well drunk on the town and your friends have all buggered off, that type of angel. So it soon became clear to me that I was looking at an angel. Talk about timing, boy did I need an angel at that time and in that place.

As time passed I leant to see Rio as a friend a person to trust and one deserving of trust. It was tricky at first. I don�t really know how to make friends as I may well know a lot of people but I have only a small, very small, circle of real friends. This was by choice but I do want to share with you a copy of an email I sent to Rio asking how we could move forward together, as friends.

Today we are that. I am still learning my boundaries with her and on occasion I do hit the wall and need to step back. It�s tricky to have a close friendship with someone when both side have other partners, other lives and are connected by a mutual friend only. I only want her as a friend, nothing else. This does go against what evolution would normally have us do. But you know what I value her as a person. A woman of great intelligence, with a kind heart and one who can help me calm my mind. Am I putting her on to high a pedestal? Perhaps I am but time will tell.

In time we learnt more about each other, we talk, we text, we �do lunch� and continue to have a moan about work as we have done for years. That bit is as good as ever and I now know were to go to when the **** really hits the fan.

I hadn�t read it for a while but while putting fingers to key board to create this story I revisited an email I sent Rio and felt it more than worth inclusion. It is in itself a key moment when the relationship changed between the two of use, at least from my point of view that is.

�Hey Dude,

Your thoughtful kind words are always welcomed. But you don�t have to feel obliged or responsible to me in any way.

It's always been clear to me that your a caring person but don�t put yourself out and take too much time out of your day. I think I am putting on you too much when
I have no real right to in any way. We work together and have done so for a long time now, your one of the longest running connections I have in my job, one I
value very highly, but I think I may be becoming a distraction in your clearly overfull day.

Now don�t get me wrong we have in a way a connection through a mutual friend but perhaps I am abusing this link in dragging you into to the challenging situation
I find myself in.

While I have the good fortune to work with and be aware of many people I am very very careful who I call 'friend'. This is because to those who are in that
tiny circle I share my thoughts, feelings, fears and aspirations and of course my collection of extensive bad jokes.

My current situation is one which removes me from my circle, I can never never bring this out to anyone. This tears at me in ways I struggle to handle despite
my outward appearance. I am aware that my time with Kev is limited and it will be over very soon and perhaps in some way that's why I am seeking to talk to
someone and you are the best one for that, it was you who introduced me to our now mutual friend and I will never never never forget that ever.

So I suppose I had better get to the point I am trying hard to avoid making.

I dont want to be cruel nor do I want to be kind. I want to be open, honest and frank with you as I try to be in all things with those I trust.

It hurts me to burden you, it hurts me to involve you, it hurst me to make you aware of the pain I feel. Perhaps its time we stopped talking about my issues.
Perhaps we can go back to what it was like before you became aware. It's not right for you to help me as you have. It creates a situation which others may
misunderstand, a situation you may not want. A situation you may feel obliged to enter into as an unwilling participant not wanting to upset me. if you feel this is you....walk away now.

That's me being cruel, now allow me to be kind.

What ever happens down the line of life, when I'm old and in my wheelchair moaning like Victor Meldrew I will still remember what you did for me. The term
'perfect timing' was made for the day you discovered everything.

I cant ask for a better person to talk to. The help and advice, not to mention the kind and sympathetic ear, has been a lifeline I have grabbed at with both
hands. It was needed and you offered unreservedly, thank you.

If your wanting to keep talking you will find me a willing partner in that. I feel I cant ask you to as this would be perhaps unprofessional and too personal
in some way, but I would gladly enter a contract if you offered one. I must say I think I would get more out of it than you. I suppose what I am trying to say
is that your a co-worker, we have the same employer we work well together and have a nice old moan with each other when the needs surfaces and at work I feel we
are 'mates' but I would be pleased, honored and privileged to call you friend if you would allow me to.

That big kind heart of yours reaches out, touches my troubled mind and eases the pain. It may not look obvious on the surface but the hurt does fade a little
when we talk and that turbulent part of my life seems to make a little sense to me, even if only for a short while.

This all may seem a little heavy, it feels like it to me, but I said I share things with friends and so this part of the letter (not the nasty bit above) is really giving you a glimpse into my own heart, feelings and thoughts. If your willing to keep looking in and helping you would be welcomed with open and warm arms.
So I suppose its over to you to choose the path you wish to take. Do we go back to the way it was before or can we go forward as something else.

Don�t feel obliged, don�t be charitable, don�t be afraid to tell me to go back to work, don�t go forward because you dont want to upset me, dont go forward if your
fearfull of anything.

Go forward if you want to help, to talk to me, to be listened to in return, to share problems, to make a friend who will ask for nothing more than friendship,
to connect. I will try my very best to reward frienship with trust, respect and an ear whenever you need one. I will even go to the Gym if you ever need a
rowing buddy...what more can I say.

Always with best regards.

Heavy stuff isn�t it, even now as I read the above email some time after it was sent I still recall the day I sent it. It took me a long time to choose the words. Thankfully I haven�t been asked to go to the gym, its just as well as I am well out of shape.

Lessons I learnt from this bit are?

1. If a man want to talk and help you it doesn�t mean he is gay. Men spend too much time trying to be men and forget how to be human beings.

2. A woman who shows concern and care towards you is trying to help. A woman will not show real and genuine care to someone she is not comfortable with. Don�t mistake it for anything else. Women, I find, are capable of deep and meaningful conversations full of helpful caring support. In your messed up mental stake do not mistake it for a �come on�.

3. If you find someone to lean on don�t lean too hard. Always check back with them to ensure you are not becoming a burden but don�t overdo it and look �clingy�. Care how they feel, sharing an intimate experience can be difficult for both sides.

4. Help can come from the most unexpected places.

5. Give something back to whoever is helping you, be it male or female. Look to return the support in some way, any way. Make the tea, clean the windows, take them for lunch, build a bloody barn if your up to it (personally I am a great kitchen fitter) but try in some way to give balance to the relationship of you and your helper.

6. Friends are cheap, real friends are priceless.

Kevin, weird but in a nice way.

Using the number Rio gave me I made a call. A week or so passed and then I was on my way to see Kevin, a counselor. It took a bit of effort to see this person. I had to go through my employers procedures for accessing counseling support and it took a lot of effort to insist on seeing Kevin. If he was good enough for Rio he was good enough for me.

Well I had no idea were I was going. It was raining, roadworks made me later than I wanted to be and of course how was I going to explain to the wife the fact that I was 30 miles away talking to a complete stranger about how I was failing her. I stood outside really crapping in my pants. On the outside it looked like any ordinary house in an ordinary street in an ordinary town. Nothing special really, no big Las Vegas sign saying �freaked out people go here�.

So I knocked on the door of Number 55. It opened and a nice woman answered �you here to see Kev?� came a calm kind voice in the darkness, the patio light was broken I think if there was one. With a nod to the positive I step in over the threshold into the warm inviting welcoming embrace of a large very comfortable chair in a room which oddly felt very much like home to me, don�t ask I have no idea how.

Now you know when I have said that I can�t recall certain things when I get emotional well the next 60 minutes or so were well up there with the most traumatic emotionally draining experiences of my life. I cried I laughed I cried again and cried some more. It all poured out as he calmly and expertly peeled open the top of my head gazed into it and stirred its contents to see what it was made of. I don�t know what it looked like at first but by the end it was a quivering mass of jelly.

The session ended and I left. I sat in my car and cried a bit more, god knows what the neighbors were thinking. All I was thinking was release...at last.

Session after session followed. With each one I began to take more and more control of my mind. We talked about many things. I stopped crying after session 4, 5 and 6 saw me take the lead and move our talks forward. I quickly learned to enjoy my time with the counselor. It was physically removed enough from my normal worldly contacts to allow me to somehow step out of my real life and view it like some form of book which the counselor and I were calmly reading and discussing together. Well I say calmly in fact there were many

moments of emotional surges as my level of awareness about my situation rose with every point we discussed together.

Our topics of discussion were varied and many. Some were very uncomfortable, very uncomfortable indeed. We talked about unrequited love, of lust, of family and the influence my parents had over my life. We talked about things which made me feel sad and made me feel happy. We talked about issues I thought were nothing to do with me. He told me crap jokes, I laughed to keep him happy. After a while I realised they were in fact very funny. Especially the one about a vet, that made me laugh all the way home once.

I learnt much about myself from this man. Or should I say I already knew it but it had all just got lost somewhere in my head over time. We can love more than one person, no one was to blame and I needed to find what was missing in my life. I discovered I love, I hate, I lust, I scream, I care, I can be moved�I am human.

The one single thing which Kev helped me learn was to learn to replace myself in my mind with another person and then watch my other self act out what could happen if my mind had its wicked way. I achieved this with ease by using one of my project planners from the office, what I discovered way terrifying. Sex would last for a week or so, the novelty would wear off for us both Bec would either grass me up or we would be found out in some way and my career, not to mention my life, would be over. All for the sake of a quick shag. Being stuck in my mind I couldn�t see this at first but once I saw it form the out side looking in it all made sense.

So once I learnt how to put to one side the base primeval feelings of sex I could focus on finding the root cause bothering my troubled mind.

After much searching I found the root cause of my trouble. It was so obvious it made me laugh when the penny finally dropped. It was a need to be close to a woman to bond closely past the level of friend. Given my lack of time at home I simply looked for the most convenient female to replace the wife I couldn�t bring to the office.

As a young child I had an aggressive father and a kind and caring mother. Not a good combination as it turned out. Dad was handy with his fists, a little too handy and I often suffered for it. Well fists were better than feet, they really hurt.

After my sessions with the counselor I began to discover something in myself I hadn�t noticed before. I always need to feel safe and secure in the care of a loving woman, a mothering type figure. Of course the first and most influential loving woman who cared for me was my mother. She would often put herself in between my siblings and I when dad would come home. She suffered along with us and often more when the door to her room was closed shut and locked.

She made me feel warm, safe loved and wanted. I needed it. People often say their mother is the greatest but mine was and still is. In my days as a child there was little if any help for battered woman, they were left to suffer in silence and pain. Ignored and left alone as an uncounted uncared for layer of society.

Today my mother is ill, not long left in this world and lately this has been on my mind a great deal. I am scared of life without her. I am a big boy now, with a waistline to prove it, but the woman who gave birth to me is not going to be here soon.

I met my wife in my mid teens and after a number of years together we married. This resulted in her taking up the role of the mothering woman in my life. Oddly my own family including my own mother would you believe it keep saying that I am not good enough for her. Isn�t it supposed to be the other way around?

The good wife does a great job of being a mother substitute for me, but this only happens when I am at home and my mind is switched off from work. Work took me away from her and in doing so took away my comfort blanket.

So here we come to the final truth of the matter.

� I am never at home on time and when I am my mind is often still at work this results in me blocking out my wife
� My mother is no longer on the scene due to ill health so guess what? I look for a bonding relationship in the one place I spend almost all of my time�my workplace
� Now who in my workplace do I spend time with, lots of time?
� Who do I share things with, talk to as a friend and share my fears and concerns with?

Yes, you have it�Beca.

Given my past life, the need to bond and my current situation it was almost inevitable that this was going to happen. I need a loving bond with a woman and I was almost always at work in my head or for real both places were I can�t take the wife. Bec was the next best thing as she was always at work and often with me for long periods of time.

Though not unattractive she is not my preferred type. This let her slip by my warning radar and before I knew it it all kicked off in my head.

And so I began my downward spiral, not with the wife, on the verge of loosing my mother and looking to bond with someone who simply was in the wrong place at the wrong time and through no fault of her own was placed in a situation of real stress for her.

Where is the wife Cath in all this

I am actually rather proud of the fact that I have had an intimate relationship with only two women in my life. I was lucky in finding my soul mate on only the second attempt.

I remember with great detail the very first time we met as if it were yesterday. I can recall the place, the music which was playing (soft cell) the food I was trying to eat even though it tasted like puke. I knew her friend before I knew Cath. A lesbian as it turned out though Cath didn�t know it until much later in life. Funny what people keep to themselves.

For my wife it was love at first site. For me though it took a little while longer before cupid found a way to strike me down like the responsibility avoiding person I was.

That first moment when I realised it was love is etched into my mind and can be found safely tucked away in my heart. It was a very cold winter night. I was taking her home after a night out, in those days we actually went out a lot, it had been snowing heavily and it lay all around on the ground lighting up the night sky as it reflected the moonlight from above. We ran down the street kicking the snow as we went, a happy happy day. Yes I know it was at night but don�t spoil it for me.

So many years later what�s there to be seen? Well actually quiet a lot really. I have two kids who both hate me, a house that�s worth a bomb with a mortgage which is tiny. Money in the bank from sound investments and a holiday to Florida, all expenses, paid almost every year. Of course all in the company of the sexiest woman I know. My adult life has been good to me.

Now it has been said to me by the shrink that there must be something missing and my need for Bec was a way in which my mind tried to fill that gap. In Cath, my wife, I was wanting for nothing. She is still beautiful, kind, never has a bad word to say. She does things to me which makes me smile all day.

One of the most painful things about the whole episode is the fact that I couldn�t and cant ever tell her. I would never be forgiven, even though nothing actually happened. She would never forgive me and would see herself as not being good enough in some way which forced me to think of another woman. I told you she is kind, blaming herself rather than me, what a fantastic woman she is and what a sickeningly sick man I was. She doesn�t deserve to learn the truth because as they said in the film she �can�t handle the truth�. I will go to my grave with this secret, but If I have my way it will be the only secret I take with me.

Today we go on. I am more relaxed with myself. I can think straight. Bec has gone back in my mind as one of the many people I work with. Bec and I continue to work well together. I am equipped to handle those ever reducing moments of darkness and I know the battle to regain my mind is an easy one for me to win.

Cath, my wife, can see a change in me, a more relaxed me wanting to and actually managing to spend more time with her. Sex is fantastic, it always has been, but now I am not distracted by images of another. This allows me to focus on her and only her, giving and taking of each other as we need and want. She has returned to one of her old habits she used to do when we first lived together. Every morning when I wake up she get up herself, rests on her knees moves to the side of the bed and gives me a big long hug topped of with a gentle kiss. Her warm soft naked body wraps around me, I smell her scent and it�s nice. It�s a great way to start your day. Better than any bowl of cereal.

I go to work and the world is a better place.

I spend less time at work. I say no a lot more now. I turn off my PC after 8pm. This is going to get earlier over time until I don�t turn it on at all, except to buy stuff off Ebay and vote online during Big Brother. Bec and I continue to work well together and my wife gets a snog everyday, if she has that look in her eye she gets even more..

Don�t get me wrong I have dark days when my mind drifts again. When they come I am better equipped to deal with them. I have the tools to recognise and push them back.

It�s been good to get back to my desk at work, a comfortable place were good people keep stopping by to say hello and distract me with kind words. I try to be smiley about it all but it I often need to go walkabout outside for a short time and take in the smell of the smokers cast off's standing outside.

I am glad I found my crossroads in time.

So how does death improve your life?

We started out together, you and I, at the deathbed of my Sister-in-Law. When she died everyone around me went to pot, fell to pieces, lost the plot. Emotions were high to start with but they were heightened even more with the arrival of the whole family, bussed in almost they were. Yet amongst the mental chaos in the room I found myself able to keep standing as the wave passed over us all, even when almost all the others fell over.

The reason, simple really, my ability to understand and deal with very strong almost overwhelming feelings had changed. At one time they could be said to be a wooden garden fence. Now they are more like the walls of a castle. Far better able to with stand an assault.

So the answer to the question from me is? Experiencing the death of another gives ones emotions a powerful boost, making it almost impossible to control your thoughts and sometimes your behavior. I had an advantage on the day, the newly built castle walls in my mind allowed me to hold back the screaming dogs of pain, keep to one side the of pair of witches called agony and fear. My mind held them all at bay.

The luxury of some form of control allowed to keep thinking instead of becoming emotional. I was able to recall long lost memories of my Sister-in-Law, feelings and experiences I had lost or not thought of for many years. I recalled the smiles the good times and the bad, the Christmas presents and birthday cards and even the once stolen kiss on a warm afternoon from Jo over twenty and more years ago as a young man, when Cath wasn�t looking.

On the day of her death Jo, and my memories of her, enriched my life once again. I felt alive.

Had I not received help, advice and gained a new friend on the way then who the hell knows how I would have handled Jo�s death and who knows how my own life would be right now.

You can choose your friends but�

Out of all of this trouble and mental anguish has come some light. I have made a new friend. I don�t make friends easily, I can be overly sensitive and up my own arse far too much of the time but all I will say is that the very small band of people who somehow put up with me and have the misfortune of being called my friends have helped a great deal, especially one of them.

I ponder the question of what is a friend a lot of the time. To me a friend has to be sincere and willing to help you when you have a problem. They are always there when you fall short, fall down or fall over as you travel along your life path.

It doesn't take a scientific study to show that surrounding yourself with supportive friends can have a positive effect on your mental well-being. A strong social support network is critical to helping me through the flood of tough times I am going through, whether I've had a bad day at work or a year filled with loss or chronic illness. I believe it's never too soon to cultivate these important relationships and a social support network can never have too many good friends.

Many of your favourite memories are likely to include times you have spent with friends. Friends are possibly the people who keep you sane, although they can sometimes drive you mad as well. Friendships are probably some of the most important relationships I have at the moment. As I travel through this part of my life with its oversubscription of turmoil, stress and mental anguish I find myself needing people close to me to help. Not a lot of people just a few good ones.

I am lucky in that I work with good people, well, good most of the time if I'm honest. The head man is very understanding and takes timeout and spends some of it with me sitting drinking coffee and eating biscuits at the end of the day, my second favorite activity in life.

A number of my friends, that small band of merry people who put up with me, have noticed a change in me in recent months. Some have helped me cope as best they can but my problem is that with some issues I have to remain quiet and suffer. They all know my wife so I can�t share everything with them. The pain of unrequited love wrapped up in a blanket of carna

TRUE CONFESSIONS: I cheated on my wife with her twin Wednesday, November 21, 2007 Despite what you read next, I love being married and I love my wife. Nothing gives me more pleasure than taking the tram home each day from my job in a Melbourne architectural office to our terrace in St Kilda and seeing my beautiful wife Angelica. In our seven years together, we've had our ups and downs but we've managed to ride them out. And I've never strayed … until now. Angelica is a twin. She tells people she's identical to her sister Lisa and as children, not even her dad could tell them apart. But I could always spot the differences — whether it was her slightly greener eyes or smaller mouth. I'm not trying to deflect blame here, but my life could have been completely different had our first meeting gone differently. I had met the pair at a dinner party and although I was being set up with Lisa, Angelica got in there first. Lisa seemed warmer and softer but her more dominating and older (by two minutes) sister continually stole the show by saying something clever or by making suggestive whisperings to me at the table. She was an outrageous flirt and, as I found out later, has a voracious sexual appetite. Angelica has an unusual mix of super confidence in the bedroom and debilitating low self-esteem the follow morning. I didn't realise until after we were married that she had her own split personality. By night she's experimental, demanding and insatiable; by day she's like a baby needing to be looked after every minute. The fact that she doesn't work only exacerbates the problem. I get phone calls all day at the office over the littlest things — Angelica wants me to drop everything and come running. I suggested she start a business or do an art class, but she would have none of it. Matters only got worse when she said having a baby would make everything all right. My suspicion was that it had more to do with her competing with her twin sister who, although divorced, was doing a great job balancing her work as an interior designer and as a mother of a four-year-old girl. She also, as I found out, still looked pretty amazing. Angelica would continually bait me with pictures of her twin looking tanned and gorgeous in her bikini on some holiday. She would tell me that I probably believed I'd married the wrong twin and even suggested that I thought of Lisa when we were having sex. I don't know if it was the badgering or whether there was a kernel of truth in what she said but I did start to fantasise about Lisa. In a strange way, it was

quite erotic making love to someone who looked so much like the person I lusted over. She had the same pear-shaped body and blonde hair, but somehow Lisa had become my fantasy. Is it cheating when you are still sleeping with your wife? To be honest I thought that it would remain a fantasy, until one day my wife said Lisa would be coming to dinner that Saturday and without her child. I don't know if my wife was simply testing me but my heart jumped at the thought. And I'm sure she was suspicious when it came to the day and I was shaven and had disguarded my usual uniform of rugby jumper, shorts and thongs for a new shirt and trousers. That night I couldn't keep my eyes off Lisa or her backless dress. And I don't know if it was the wine but I'm sure she was flirting back at me all through dinner and we were both tipsy by the time dessert arrived. So when my wife said she was off to bed, I was relieved to have Lisa all to myself. I suggested we duck out to the verandah to sneak a cigarette. The naughtiness of it only added to the excitement. After chatting about architecture and design, something I could never do with Angelica, I lent forward and kissed her. To my amazement she didn't back away. I put my hand down her backless dress and felt that skin I had fantasised about so many times. I pushed her up against the railing and made love to her right there and then, underneath the bedroom where my wife slept. The next day my wife found me sleeping on the couch … alone. She never said a word. People say a twin knows when something happens to the other one. I've never been game enough to ask and find out.