Providence, My Friend

Untitled collage

Providence, My Friend


Hey babe, why don’t you post somme-in on the LA blog one of these days?

o-k-A-Y and what kind of a piece you’d like it to be?

Anything…about you, me, us, just burp your thing baby

You sure? Remember what happened the last time I did that?

You mean the bio you did of me?

Uh-huh. THE statistical fiasco of the century, that had over 900 views in less than 5 days and an average of 5 likes per zillion views. God, you were sulking for days, Papi, worse than those folks PMSing over our love. And I’m telling you, the ladies must have cursed me so hard I still haven’t recovered from the hiccups they voodoed on me. Half of them fled from your blog life, one fourth took up Yoga and the other one fourth burn my effigy every time you post my picture or mention my name in your post. Hey, deflate that chest already, they hate you equally!

Hahahah, Mamasita. But hey, come on, I didn’t sulk…I was just disappointed..are those two the same?


At this point, A Tangle of Weeds crosses her arms in a very business-like manner (she even borrowed his necktie and tied it around her night shirt collar) and looks straight into the eyes of her (not really) Lonely Author who gives her his “damn baby, I love you” look. (Yeah I will have to make a video next of the Lonely Author’s mannerisms. Then, we might as well shut down both blogs and renounce the world. Such is life, sigh!)


Providence, my friends! I mean LA’s friends. Hello and a grossly un-timed welcome to yet another special edition of A Tangle of Weeds being exclusively aired here on the LA page the first Mondays of every month. Yes, your raised eyebrows are justified. I just created that slot. But not without consultations with the CEO of this blog, i.e. Andrew. Oh pardon my impudence, I forgot to introduce myself to the newbies here. Ahem ahem, damn this phlegm! I am the Managing Director and you’ll see my name if you are patient enough to read till the end. I tend to pee never endingly on the LA blog. Alpha feline trait, that’s right.

So what I’m really saying is that I’m here today for an reason. Not that I’m anywhere for no reason (LA is giving me an appalled look of “Babe, did you flush your sense of humor too? Yes I can hear his thoughts). Anyway, the reason is My King wanted me standing at the balcony of our castle alongside him waving at his smiling, seething, laughing, fuming (all kinds including the ones who come to watch from behind the bushes) but still loyal subjects. Bloody hell, who just threw those rotten eggs?
Sorry guys, that took time…(not easy to wash off egg smell, you know….the things I have to endure for love, sigh!)

Anyway, by now, most of you know (well now you know) that he’s given me all rights to this blog, including the one of investigator. Oh no no, don’t get me wrong, I’m not the possessive kind (LA almost choked on the Pepsi he’s drinking)..let me complete alright..not possessive ..umm..unless I’m compelled to be, under the following two circumstances:
1. By those who keep trying – to our utter dismay – to hit on him. Did you know, jellyfish are amazing creatures? Oh it’s related. I never speak incoherently.
2. those who disrespect/disregard our relationship. May your life be filled with abundant love so you can feel happy about ours.

Having said that, it is my birthright to be the poet in tattered jeans who rescued him, to continue rescuing him from the hazardous side effects of his erstwhile reputation of being the heartthrob of WP (No need to lie on that pretty ass with that wicked smile and rub your thumb over your sexy cleft, LA. I said “ERSTWHILE”).

Keep writing you guys, continue enjoying the poetry on this blog without any prejudices. And keep love and laughter high on your agendas. I sincerely thank those wonderful supportive friends and readers who are genuinely happy for us. And the rest, well you gotta take me with a pinch of salt, my friend. Because I am the staple of his Cuban diet.

So long. With love. Going off the air in

Endnotes: (for the convenience of those who might be scratching their heads)
The Lonely Author (LA) = Andrew = My King = Papi = Him = He (Yes, they are all ONE person)

A Tangle of Weeds = Nandita = Babe = Baby = Mamasita (Again ONE person = Me)
There are ONLY two people in this post, irrespective of the different names and addresses (not location address, phew!)

The Lonely Author: Up, Close, and Personal

The Lonely Author: Up, Close, and Personal

Introduction: The Beach Boy
What do you say about a man who is supposedly lonely and seriously lovely, but whom no one has ever seen or heard?

the lonely author

That he doesn’t exist beyond your imagination? Oh but he does! And I will tell you all about him today.

So, ladies and ladies (since he is such a ladies man), it is my absolute pleasure to introduce you to the real person behind the mysterious beach boy picture AKA The Lonely Author, as seen and heard exclusively day after day, every day, through my naked eyes and ears and experienced first hand by my loving heart and spongy mind.

Chapter 1: The Lonely Author Uncensored
Eyes: So let’s start with his EYE, shall we? He has dark eyes – very expressive and mischievous. If there is anyone I would describe as having laughing eyes, it would be him. He cannot see well with one eye (maybe too much of winking at women in the past caused the damage, who knows?) but that does nothing to take away his 20/20 vision of love and affection. Anyone who wishes to know more about how his eyes blink, his pupils dilate etc. may please read “My Brown-eyed Love”. Shit, sorry I got carried away. I swear I am not trying to promote my blog here. To hell with my blog. This is about him. Focus, Girl (chiding myself)!

Physique: He is tall, well-built, perfect to go with his macho image as the universal protector of all possible damsels in distress. Who hasn’t heard of his legendary “Soar, Baby, Soar” (rhetorical question, this!). I never really was a damsel in distress, just so you know. I was the damsel under duress when he and I first met three years ago. Now I am the brunette in killer heels but that’s a different story. Suffice to say, he has changed his stance to “Click, Baby, Click”

Ears: Nibbleable (urban dictionary yeah!). Need I say more? What? I pay attention to details. I’m not going into his nose, eyebrows, tongue and forehead, so chill! Oh wait, I remembered – I’ve extensively talked about his tongue in one of my poems, maybe two. Very metaphorically of course. I’m a poet, give me some credit.

Mouth, Lips, Teeth: His lips? Shapely, full and rose-tinted. He has never smoked in his life. Na-ah. His teeth are quite perfect and very white. He brushes twice a day, such a good boy! He was approached by Colgate once to model for their diamond shine range but he turned down the offer because he was offended at the preposterous suggestion of smiling for money. Confused Colgate then asked him if he’d model for them for free, to which he got livid and made it clear that his smile was not cheap. The discussions ended up becoming a toothache for Colgate. Meanwhile, he changed his toothpaste brand to Pepsodent. He has a terrible sweet tooth though and I even know which particular tooth that is. Again, details, you guys! Ok I was bullshitting here but you got my point, yeah? But he does have nice sparkly teeth and a very warm smile. No kidding. He keeps Oreos in a mason jar and loves to chomp on those when we are video-talking. Watching him eat always makes me hungry. And that is what maketh our nights of Poetry, Pepsi and Popcorn.

Hair (on his head, I clarify): no parting, swept back, salt and pepper. Drool! He uses Loreal. Because he’s worth it! He usually keeps himself clean shaven (facial hair, what did you think?) unless of course he deliberately wants to sport the shabby rugged look, just to appear sexier than he already is (very Robert Downing Jr.-ish, you know).

Hands: soft like a baby’s. He prides himself on his hands. Don’t tell him I told you that. The day I feel his hands (and I will), there will be a sequel to this post, I promise. Well manicured nails.

Legs: strong, muscular, (he ran track in school and college) and hairy of course. What do you expect, he’s a man! And a Cuban at that.

Chest: slightly hairy and large. It houses a big heart after all……
Don’t expect me to describe his nipples. Jeez!

I better stop right here before I get carried away and start talking about other parts of his gorgeous body. So umm, let’s talk about his other umm stuff. His voice for one.

Chapter 2: The Lonely Author: Deciphered and Decoded
Voice: I have written poems about the way he talks. God, he can talk, this man! From a minimum of 1 hour everyday to 4000 clocks, depending on what day of the week it is, we talk about anything and everything. I basically enjoy watching his lips move and eyes shine as he tells me stories, events, anecdotes, dreams, hopes, beliefs, his grocery list and so on. He was not joking when he wrote in one of his poems that he is the man who never lets me sleep. Thank God for Fridays! But the record of our longest call is 11.5 hours which has culminated in this prose piece that you are reading. Anyway, enough of how much he dotes on me. Let’s talk about the technical aspects of his voice. He’s got a deep raspy voice which surprisingly reaches crazy alto summits when he is conversing with me. The joy and excitement gets the better of his baritone, I daresay. Oh and he uses a lot of umms and aahs and uh-uhs in his diction. And he does say ‘Nai-ce’ a lot. Also, “you know what”. The way he says somme-in is to die for. He always opens his conversations with me by saying “Hello Beautiful” and his sentences often begin with “Can I ask you a question”? Unless of course, the other person is someone other than me because he usually is the one with all the answers. But my personal favorite line/moment is when he whispers “I do. I do”. So I tend to ask him a lot of questions that are bound to be answered in “I Dos”. He laughs a LOT. Especially when I mimic him. Speaking of laughter, he is the only person I know who has this wonderful insane ability to laugh at himself. I make so much fun of him it is not funny and he revels in it which is just so adorable.

Mind: The most-underrated aspect of him. And to not talk about his brilliant mind would be an insult to his intelligence. He is a highly intelligent man, not just the regular smart kind. His mind is a treasure island of philosophies, knowledge, information, intellect, humour and wit. He has been a teacher, a banker, a human resources manager, and, believe it or not, a child actor/model and has worked with Hollywood biggies such as Pacino, DeNiro, Redford etc.
He is awesome in science and math, the two things that scare the living daylights out of me. The kindness in him doesn’t let him, but take my word for it, he speaks sarcasm better than he speaks Spanish which is his first language. We laugh a lot about it. He likes to keep himself abreast of all news and is on top of current affairs. He has a keen interest in history, although his major was Economics and is extremely good at finances. He dislikes discussing politics and avoids it like the plague. He is so good with dates it would impress you. He even reminds me about my dates/appointments etc. He also has this amazing presence of mind where he will talk to me like a scatterbrain jumping between topics but if I ask him some particular thing he told me five minutes back, he will be spot on. It baffles me, I tell you. A very meticulous and organized person except when it comes to his dresser (which looks like it’s been hit by a hurricane), he likes to plan ahead. That explains why he loves to play chess. The only mind game that interests him. His favorite quote: life is a game of chess, not checkers.

Charm: Do I need to even talk about it? Ladies, give me a cheer here please. He can keep 4 different people engaged in 8 different conversations at the same time and still make those people feel like they are the only ones he is talking to. If that is not serious talent, I don’t know what is. And wait, I’m not saying he bullshits you. He is just so naturally good at making people feel nice and importantly, he does it sincerely. The gift of the multitasking gab, you could say. Not everyone’s blessed with it, us lesser mortals have to live without it. Sigh!

Heart: with all the reputation of being the most incorrigible flirt the blogging world has ever seen, Andrew is in essence his mother’s son through and through with a heart that can only be second to Mother Teresa’s. He will paint rainbows in your heart with the rain in his eyes and won’t even let you know. Because believe it or not, he lives in constant perpetual pain. Literal. And he never lets it be known. He is extremely emotional and lets down his guards with me when he feels vulnerable. Yes, I have seen him cry, more than once. Not going with the macho image, no? I think he is man enough to break down and tell me when things gets too much and he wants to share his troubles with me.

Oh and the flirting has stopped, have you noticed? It’s been a while. He just doesn’t feel the need and the desire to flirt around anymore, he tells me. I believe him.

Chapter 3: Tangled Facts about The Lonely Author
• He is NOT a Casanova but he has better shades of Christian Gray than Gray himself
• He serenades me when I give him the cold shoulder (he does, he does)
• He hates having himself clicked but he makes sure to send me selfies for my breakfast
• He loathes talking on the phone but he detests it even more when it’s time for us to hang up
• He is a smooth talker but if you know how to say the right things, he will stutter more beautifully than Shakespeare in love

Epilogue: The Man who Loves
All said and done, I have been fortunate enough to get to know Andrew the way I do. And to be loved by him the way he does. Everyday has been a remarkable discovery about this man who is only assumed about. And it will not be a hyperbole if I say no one knows him the way I do – his deepest darkest secrets, his weirdest fantasies, his fears, his real life, his blogging world, just about everything. I hope you will all believe me when I say this post did not come about out of some arrogance or superficial reason, rather, it came about out of love for the man who knows how to love in all senses of the word, the man who has turned the Lady Pathos in me to Lady Bliss. It took us three years to be where we are. It will take us longer to be where we wish to be. Or maybe never. And it takes a lot to write about this when the world has not been kind to us. But you know what (in Andrew’s style), love doesn’t always need a name.

This was just a glimpse I have given you of the mystery man who goes by the name The Lonely Author. But I will not talk more than what I did because honestly, there are things he and I will never share with others. Some things are sacrosanct.

If there are any questions/comments about The Lonely Author or even about Andrew, I would be happy to answer for both of them. If not, I’ll still smile that I wrote this. He deserves it. Like I said, he is worth it. Thanks to the L’Oréal Shampoo that he uses which not only keeps his mane lustrous but fragrant as well. And that fragrance and shine percolates right down to your blogs when he stops by.

Thank you for your patience.

Living La Vida Loca

Signing off with love, until next time
Nandita aka A Tangle of Weeds.

Love Untold (A Duet)

images (2)

Hola everyone.  I am thrilled to post my second duet with my wonderful muse/mentor Nandita Yata of the beautiful blog A Tangle Of Weeds.


Love Untold  (A Duet)


The man of my dreams wears Hilfiger in navy and white
He kills it with his James Bond look, suave, classy and bright
Hugo Boss lingers on his pulses so delicate and light
He smells like the tropics in trance, my olfactory delight

The woman of my dreams dresses in elegance and style
We enter the nouveau restaurant and every man’s beguiled
Heads continue turning as she is walking down the aisle
Everyone wants what I have, and that just makes me smile

When we go out, the man of my dreams opens doors for me
He leads me by the hand, he is the epitome of chivalry
He pulls the chair, seats me before making himself easy
Then says “how would you like to satisfy your palate, My Lady?”

At the table she discovers new silver earrings in her glass
For I will do everything I can to never let the Honeymoon pass
My beloved likes mischievous gentlemen with an accent of class
So I pull her chairs, hold her doors, and smack her in the ass

He beckons to the waiter who greets us with a beaming smile
“The finest Chardonnay you have, please bring it in a little while”
Are your feet hurting with the killer heels you have on, he asks
Oh but I only just put them in the car I say, he giggles and basks

I promise to massage her feet, and her favorite songs I will sing
Nandita is so easy to love, for my special lady I will do anything
As I sip my wine I notice I am with the most gorgeous in the room
We are the perfect pair, the blushing bride and the lucky groom

I say a quick silent prayer as Andrew locks his tender gaze into mine
Let eternity imprint itself upon our moments so beautifully divine
Even the stars are swooning in anticipation of the magic to unfold
As he serenades me, the moon blesses this story of our love untold

Violinists come to play their sweet strings cause it’s time for romance
She reciprocates batting her lovely lashes as our hearts sing and dance
The moon accompanies us on our walk home as the night ends in harmony
Cause I was born to love only her, and she was born to love only me

Priceless (A Poem by Nandita Yata)


I have never had a guest on my blog, but what better time than now.  This is a poem written by my dear friend Nandita Yata.  She will be replying to your comments.  I will interject if and when it is needed.  Thank you for reading.




You have given me
the freedom to be
myself when everyone wanted me to change
you embraced me when everyone called me strange
You have understood me
where everyone else failed
you didn’t just stand by my silence
you glorified it by deafening the world
But of all the priceless gifts
you have given to me
the one that is the most special
is the one you built for me
this sanctuary where I bleed
without having to worry
about explaining
why my blood is the colour it is.


couple in rain

Hola People. No, I don’t post on Friday, but I had to make an exception today. I was challenged and inspired to do my first collaboration. So, here I am bursting at the seams. (Probably need to get out of that beach chair).

Lonely Author’s first collaboration with Nandita of A Tangle Of Weeds.





She undresses me with her words
baring my naked soul for all to read
Her poetry brought us closer together
as the love in her voice tore me apart


He clothes me with his words so pure
As I bare myself to him when we’re alone
His words of love pulls me to him
To where he is, my soul has already flown
She used my flesh as her canvas
painting words of love all over me
every sweet stroke so enticing
she left me trembling at her feet
He planted his poetry in my heart
feeling my skin like a sightless man
He read me like he was reading Braille
He left me sighing in his eyes again
She unfolded my origami heart
with whispers from her soul
now there is no escaping the reality
lost in her words I found love
He unraveled my many layers
with the gentlest touch
made me fall in love so tenderly
Now in his abyss, I’m so lost.


Photo from Google Images.