City of Blinding Lights.. (again, apologies to U2)

A trip awaited,
one that promised little;
and threatened so much.

A city breathed,
with a million breaths;
and a million wandering souls.

Could it accomodate one more?
I hoped so, I prayed so..
I believed so.

My Rocks promised to anchor me,
I doubted them never.
The Voice called out and i had not a doubt.

300, a boy and his tiger,
sunshine, an elephant with a heart and a night flower..
these were my saviours, and i hoped ours too.

It started with night before day,
fire on a stick and a story for the movies.
It was time to fly and there was not much to do..

santa's hat, a hole on my nose.
a guitar and an anchor i set forth.
Looking for salvation, torture, closure, hope.. i knew not.

Day came and not without it's sunshine and rain..
I spotted my rainbow and i saw the dark clouds..
I leaned on my rocks like never before, then.

countless grains of sand passed within the many hour-glass,
comfort was sought from either ends and glances were received.
fragile souls were patched, delicate emotions were bubble-wrapped...

distractions were sought with fervour and just as easily dispatched.
day came again and the clouds had lightened.
I guess the rainbow was too beautiful to be over-shadowed by anything.

Walks in side streets, 'save tonight' on the jukebox..
hands everywhere but in ours, thoughts nowhere but on us.
frozen moments in the loo, laughter with urchins.

now, the rainbow glowed, the sun shone and the world smiled,
everything was bright and glowed like a fairy's sparkle.
who said, 'Nothing is perfect?' I know them not, I feel it now in a barbie shop.

the sun is beginning to set and eyes are averted
cabs are sought, for bodies or for tears.. who knows
lips meet one last time, i hope not..

I needed to believe in something,
I thought I believed in someone,
I ended up believing in us...

30 Days gone by...

I grieve for the rock that has gone.
I grieve for the colors that have washed away.

I grieve for the Sun that has hidden behind the clouds.
I grieve for the rainbow that has now disappeared.

I grieve for the strokes that have merged.
I grieve for the warmth that has faded.

I grieve for the C-Street band that doesn't sound so good no more.
I grieve for the red wine that has gone bad.

I grieve for the 'EEEEEEEEEEE' that has taken a vacation.
I grieve for the voice that is now silenced.

I grieve for the look that is now a haze.
I grieve for the prance that has grown up.
I grieve for the revolution that has moved elsewhere.

But I smile for the memories that are fresh.
I smile for the hope of optimism.
I smile for you.

30 Days to go...

I had come across my rainbow over a rickety table.
The Sun was just peeking out, not with it's suspected brilliance. Yet.
I run my fingers through these cracks within,
and wonder if they are there for all to see.

In. SHOUT. JuMp. twi$t. mooove. Out.

Parting Clouds,
Shining Moon,
Sparkling Shots,
Wistful Gazes.

Glittering stars shine on my crazy diamond.

Comfort in that presence.
Safety in that grip.
Warm breath on nervous skin.
Smoky eyes and half smiles.

How soft can a whisper sound?
How loud can a smile be?
How deep can a look feel?
How hard can a goodbye kiss get?

Some enchanted evening that was..

The face is a smiling sun,
The hands feel like the caressing rain,
I am now on a hill, Oh My!
This is my time and that is MY rainbow.

December Sky

As I sit watching the December sky, I feel nostalgic.
The sky knows me and I know it.
Somewhere both of us are up against the test of time.
We’re old timers here.
Waiting for a shining light to fill us every morning.
But December is cruel with reminiscence.

Last winter I learnt how to kiss the sky,
After seducing it for years.
Now, we only look at each other and smile,
Like much before.
On my wheels, I broke the wind,
My wheels are broken now. The rims, actually.

The horse pranced, so did the rider.
It’s the horse alone this time.
A beautiful dream walked in the cold then.
A beautiful bride walked out into the open now.
A stuttering desperado had found his trac.
Standing tall, a hero goes out to find a dream now.

A flying bird had run into a twin tower.
An Athena came dancing now.
The tower couldn’t house the bird.
Maybe another place, another time.
The dance was a mere distraction.
Confused was it, as it lived the delusion.
And then the seventh day came, the plane landed.

Long Curls in a tall frame, walked out nervously.
Do I play my part or choose the heart?
But a blood brother broke the heart.
The same one, who walked beside, when I stumbled yesterday.
A friend walked away into a spiritual journey,
The world is round. We’ll meet again, he said as he parted away.

Now the stars and I look at each other again.
Neither is speaking, as the other one already knows.
The cold is getting colder now.
A long journey waits.
I’ll look at you from somewhere else, the same me, the same you.
As I sit watching the December sky, I feel nostalgic.

Darkness and it's Shadow

Another wasted day in bonded labour, I contemplate as I walk back from my routine rendezvous with my favourite 'stick' - most consider it a vice, I just let it be for now. As I make the arduous journey to my seat - they make an appearance, all 3 at once, which is quite rare.. idum as always is ranting about the need for a revolution, marie is excited about the other 'voice' we seem to interact with quite often these days and mudi as always is very reserved and guarded with regards to the various implications.

Marie has just made her arrival known to us, and she is still an enigma. We knew she existed yet she was always regarded as that old Banyan tree that everybody acknowledged but ignored; right until the tree spoke. I figure she's the oldest and yet the more naive, I may be wrong - wouldn't be the first time. I also hope neither mudi nor idum influence her and rather let her discover her own Voice. It is imperative for my growth that she does.

They all have a story.. perhaps another day, another time.

On my return journey, I come across a number of people who I have interacted with, one way or the other and each glance is met with a vague smile or a knowing acknowledgement.. I haven't made up my mind on them all yet. I want to explain, to probe, to question, to evaluate (that would be mudi, as Sue is so painfully aware of) and I want to explore. I long for an ear; I had a willing ear but I guess I let that go by with my ignorance, one i'm afraid will never come back - Yes, Shruts, I can be a monumental klutz when you think about it. =)

Maybe, THIS is the long-awaited ear I have yearned for and not the kind i have been searching for. 'Timing', unfortunately has never been my super-power.

It is time to go home, but I fear the familiar environment and the impeding emotions it brings along. I'd rather stay here in this place that makes me uncomfortable only because it makes me question. Questions without the answers or answers that I do not want to know. Someone once said, "If you are drawn to unhappiness, you will never run short of friends" - I wonder how sad or popular he may have been. I know him not but I, for the sake of argument shall acknowledge his grasp on the subject to have made such a statement.

Desolation -
Is it something we crave for knowingly or unknowingly?
What is it that draws us to this bleakness?
Why is every conquest of a hill followed by a despairing plummet to a valley?
Does it make us appreciate the good things better?
Is it an inbuilt flaw in the character?
Does this make me a degenerate?

We yearn for the highs yet we constantly mire in the lows. As I pose these questions, I can picture the swift flow of 'rebukes'... the gesticulations, the views and the so very true messages of pick-ups. I understand but I shall side-step them all, just this once. All it needs to get past this is a knowing hug, maybe a distant but feeling smile.. maybe it needs more than that. This is more personal than I intended to make it and it will get its share of disapproving clucks, and shakes - There is nothing to Gain here and possibly all to Lose, but it's here and I guess it shall be.

Que sera sera - Blood does taste sweet.

Happy People make me happy;
Sad People intrigue me;
Angry People amuse me;
Confused People inspire me.

I guess this is truly a musing of a muddled mind, albeit temporarily. And I shall be back to my usual gloating self not far from now -- mudi wants to add a humor quotient to do damage control, idum says 'Fuck It! -Let's make people uncomfortable and get them thinking'... and I think I hear marie whisper, 'It's alright, those who need to know will figure it out, if they must and the rest will do what they have to'.

I wonder if the need for pain overrides the need for contentment.
~mudassar

The Stranger

I close the door and I note,
It is him; a person I think I know.
Know him well or know him not
A debate, I’m not sure I’m up for

He looks right into my eyes,
And away the moment I shy away
Familiar is this moment, a certain déjà vu
And unknown is that face, I surmise

There are lines under his eyes
And a devilish glint in them..
Flaws a plenty on the outskirts
Yet they all fall in place.

The music continues unaware
The party finds no reason to pause
The happenings continue to play
Four witnesses to a skit played often enough; these walls

I start a man-made waterfall
Baptizing myself in this water
Holy it is not, Heavenly I now feel
The old wilts and the new peeks

I hear my name being called
The voice is one I want to hear often
It calls me and I want out
I want to prance, dance, jump to it.

I look up and he is there looking
Looking back at me like he never left
My lips stretch making way for teeth
The skin feels taut and bumps begin to form

I can feel it course through my veins
I can feel it slow my heart to a murmur
I can feel it make my eyes glaze over
I can feel it make my hands go numb

The smile has made way to a laugh
And I find myself laughing with this person
He is not any stranger; he is MY stranger
He is I and I am him.

I baptize myself again
Ready to go another round
I am complete and yet alone
I am happy and I am afraid

I decide to go back out to the voice
I decide I will not bid adieu to him
I decide I will come back, sometime later
I know I will enjoy this night

If you do happen to see him
Tell him “I’m sorry”
Tell him, “I had to go see about a girl”
He’ll understand for he is I.

I would like to thank the people who have been a part of my life and have stuck by me through the hils and the valleys. I'd like to thank the 'voice' who reminded me how much fun it is to let go. I'd like to thank the guardians who watch my back and who take the mickey out of me at the slightest notice. I would like to thank the 'stranger' that is my mother's son for the hope. I thank them all for they already know all of the above without me even having to mention it.
~much love

dreams that rock..on and on!

Zan told me to watch it..he said its really neat..some others said its good. I chose to go with zan. But I somehow managed to miss the movie at the theatre. I came from work the other day and had nothing much to do. And the door bell rang. It was the CD dude with some cd’s. For a change, he said he din have English movies. So? He had ‘Rock On’. He said the print was good. I would’ve taken it otherwise too. Well, I have this habit of going on and on about things that catch my eye. Rock On caught both. Why? Let’s see how best I can answer that on this editor.

I heard Mudi tell Raul a few days back, ‘Live the dream’. In context to something that’s just a thought today. Ironically, the movie pretty much sums this thought. Literally. A dream is just a thought before you give it wings. And let it fly. Freely. Is it never too late to realize a dream or is it just an exciting script for celluloid? I guess I may not be able to answer the question. But I believe in the answer.

There a 2 sides to a coin. Why, there is 2 sides to us. Front and back. Why should an opinion be any different? It can ignite a candle or burn down a house. Here (read: in the movie) it did both. Burnt a friendship. Scarred it for life, they thought. It could’ve. But all it takes is one from the crowd to believe. And believe until life depends on it. Sometimes all it takes is to make an attempt. To believe you can make an attempt. An attempt to turn to a previous page. A page that held beautiful memories. And some heartfelt stories. Like Rob does(in the movie). It hurts when today’s dream shatters. It kills when a life lasting dream breaks. Live it. For a day. For an hour. But live it. Basically, the movie is our story, yours and mine.

We all have a past of younger days, of younger lives and of younger thoughts. Do our thoughts grow older? Or do they mature? Or do we not know the difference and not talk about it to ourselves? Aditya chose to do it. His life seemed complete 10 years after he parted ways with his friends. Seemed complete. But life and a buried dream never departed his existence. He was lucky. Life does not give everyone a second chance. But sometimes you have to create it.

Today I may not need Aditya, Joe, Rob and KD to tell me to live a dream. But we’re all subsets of these guys. To live a dream and to pursue it are two separate tangents (rich, I hope the usage is right!). They lived a dream and then buried it only to pursue it when it mattered the most. In hindsight, its easy to realize this from the movie. Is it easy to realize this in our lives? Perhaps not. No surprise that a million dreams are broken everyday.

Rock On’s a good watch, if you fail to see the matter and understand the subject. Life takes many deviations. None of them’s a U-turn. We have one shot at glory. The path to get there may not be the one we want to tread upon today. But the vision needs to be planted at the destination. Coz just like the movie, life has to end. At a point, where you can look back and see your footprints on the sands of time. Crooked. But they started somewhere. They have ended where you stand today. You make a choice where you want to stand. And run to get there.

Prodding the Brain with a Feather...

Another night.. dark, alone, morose and life passes by without so much as a click. So much to scream about and yet not a peep. It's funny, but isn't life so ironic and full of contradictions - I wonder if that makes life a hypocrite. Now, thats a thought.

I like to write/ramble/muse whatever the definition for this garble might be depending on the reader and I care and yet I do not care how it hits him/her/them (another contradiction).

I wish I was in a crystal shop with a baseball bat and given a free licensce to some much needed Batting practice. Sigh.

I feel like a rant.

I feel like a scream.

I feel like a tantrum.

I feel like a make out.

Is it just me or does anybody else miss out on good ol' Hindi Music from the prehistoric ages of whence your parents resembled you inclusive of all zits, hormones and curiosity. Just today, while going with mum and dad for dinner, dad puts on the radio and out drifts sounds that strangely enticed me beyond any mention. I had no clue what the lyrics were but i could connect and I miss Music.

hmmm, I'm hungry. Be Right Back.

Dandruff, now that's a problem. I don't like dandruff but they sure as hell seem to like my scalp every now and then. shh. Don't tell anyone I got dandruff; I don't think the ladies are too impressed by it not that I'm doing great in that department right now or for that matter good. Waitaminit, abysmal is more like it. But let's put this in the closet as well with the rest of the skeletons eh?

Some people do not like to reveal too much of themselves to complete strangers, I had the same mind-set which resulted in me not having any friends; I think the horrible attitude and sulky mood had a part to play as well. Anyway, the point being that since everybody is a stranger....hmmm.... this really isn't going anywhere.

Any given point of time, and there are usually 10 different thoughts running amok in ones head like those pesky kids in a 'Toys R Us' full up on sugar; and the minute you get asked what you're thinking and the only thing that pops out is - . Nothing! And you thought that graduation from High School would put an end to such situations; I think not.

I miss Frothy Beverages, cancer on a stick, mindless chatter around a rickety table, some classy tunes, loud laughs, louder arguments... aah Life was good.

If you thought there was a point at the end of this, boy where you wrong and man oh man would you be feeling stupid to having read all this... Now you know a miniscule of the kind of things that run through my head.. HA HA !... *more sniggering*

Nothing. Everything. Ying - Yang. Ping Pong.

Ramblings of a certain addicted Couch-Potato...

41 days; 6 fractured bones, 1 fractured tooth, 3 chipped teeth, 10 staples in the head, injuries to the lungs and other numerous cuts, scrapes and bruises supplemented with countless hours of mindless telly watching, munching and other inanities later I find myself counting the days till i get back to my tribe and my grazing grounds albeit however short the 'home-coming' might last...

In these days of relative solitude, and overbearing 'support' from my ever loving parents; things tend to get a little too cluastrophobic and yet I tend to ramble. This is my gift from the desert beyond - my ramblings, my cantering thoughts, me, myself & idum..

Moving along, I hate this completely obnoxious barrage of news channels; I'm sure by now everybody has heard of the party bust in Bombay which resulted in the arrest of 230 odd kids with drug related offence. What I find especially distasteful is the manner in which these C-grade journalists go about projecting it like a typical B-grade hindi movie; One channel even ripped off certain scenes from this movie - 'Page 3' and not wanting to even tread over the terribly amatureish voice over; How Lame and truly offensive..! Whatever happened to actual journalism and it bothers me that unlike other kids who wanted to get in the army or become a fireman/policeman; I wanted to be a journalist... such a shame. (Didn't help that my mum was watching it and is completely horrified at where 'our' youth is heading to).

I love music. I love Manchester United. I love my mates. Period.

I do not like rules. I do not like Authority. I do not like politicans.

I also noticed this fascination certain people have for songs, books, soaps and movies that have a sad, meloncholic and lonesome feel to it.. ironic, since they derive joy or comfort from it. I for one am one of these people and in my time have come across certain people who do too, and not all of us are lonely, depressed, loony or any of that sort. We are, well most of us are pretty normal (depending on your definition of normal).

Is it just me or is the only reason to watch any rap/hip-hop video; to ogle at the various incredibly hot women on screen. I mean, since when did the powers that be decide that MUSIC alone was just not enough?!?!

Just the other day, i was watching this show 'According to Jim' which arguably was the funniest episode I had seen in a long time. This particular episode had Jim and his Brother in law - Andy go on a drunken bachlorette party for Andy's sister - Dana (which would be Jim's sister in law; stay with me you slower ones - I have a point here) and what's more their drunken antics were not only quite realistic but also pretty darn funny; infact it was easily their funniest episode - the drunken binges; the appearance of various receipts - and the subsequent re-enactment; loud crappy 'singing'; 'dancing' anywhere n everywhere; statements you cannot live without uttering every other minute et al (All you trippers, know where I'm heading with this; the rest of you.. well life isn't fair, deal with it). The point here is that ...*waaaait for it*..... drunken people are frikkin hilarious!! (well 7 out of 10 are. the other 3 consist of the violent, black-out and miscellaneous and not in any order).

I completely agree that there's nothing in this world thats better at lifting spirits than shopping for onesels; be it a momentory crisis, a failing relationship or yet another argument with your loved ones. The feeling of owning something new is just awesome and so very uplifting. Such a shame that this feeling needs to be constantly fed but what the hell, we need all the help we can get.

I think I'm losing hair. Yikes!
Technology scares me.
I wish I had a Dog; I could do with some company right about now.

Time to take a shower....

Today,I

One day Compromise met me and asked me "Who do you think I am"? I did not know the answer until I met Convince. Convince told me, " You build a thought. You believe in it. You build me. You change your thought.A situation makes you do it and I become Compromise after you allow me to do so". Today I compromise on convincing myself..


Today I’m held in between a Yesterday and tomorrow.
Not knowing where my now is.
A sonnet of thoughts flutter in my distant memory,
Of better times, of then, of a now.
Of a time when I could scream louder than I thought I could.
A time, when the lack of wings never stopped a journey to a haven.

Today I’m held in between a truth and the reality.
A bygone time had shown a life which I knew as the truth.
It ceases to exist now, as I wonder why.
Maybe I failed to read the vision of the growing time,
Maybe time grew on me before I could read.
But my sight today is dazed, which is a reality.

Today I’m held in between music and sound.
A chapter of notes that once rhymed with my thoughts,
Seem to have formed crooked lines on paper.
A paper that has found a place in the book of my life,
Against my will and belief.
A new sound I search for, one that will rhyme with today.

Today I’m held in between a present and a gift.
The present is my today, which is empty.
A hope and a dream are the gifts of my birth.
I wish to embrace the present as much as I need my today.
But my true gift will be a need, a need that will define.
Define an existence that has been caught by some others.

But I promise to never let it be hunted.
As I look beyond now,
Staying in my today,
And dreaming the dream,
That taught me to live,
That showed me my now.
And realize the gift of the ‘is’,
And not the ‘will be’.

Rum, Cigarettes, Apple Pie and A Kiss

There are some things in this 'life' or rather 'world' of ours that are considered bad, sinful, taboo or just plain wrong. I don't intend to question or justify or even rationalize but rather just wonder. The 'act' itself is looked down as a one-way ticket to hell, an act of cowardice, quitting, giving up, throwing in the towel et al. and it may well be so but have we ever thought as to why it still thrives? Maybe it's for that one second of freedom to a lifetime of bondage or the need to jump the fence. What follows is not an advocate nor is it something that derides. Just something that I happened to fumble across...

~Intro
Wonderful sunny day, a hint of cloud but not of rain,
a breeze to rustle your hair but not to make you wince...
It was a day that makes you smile and feel gald to be alive...
A day when the flowers lean to you and you see her smile in every smile.
---------- Interlude ------------
A 1968 Ford Shelby GT 500KR lies on the drive way, waiting...
waiting to rear like an untamed buck for that one last stretch,
waiting to kiss the sky as many times it took to finally get some tongue...
But wait it will; till time has lost its meaning...

He had lived life on his own terms and he wasn't about to live on theirs.
So what if he couldn't ever trip or limp or walk for that matter;
So what if he could never feel the wind in his hair..
SO FUCKING WHAT?!?

This isn't how it was meant to end but this is how it will;
Life was always meant to be short and was meant to be dodged...
Little pieces of plastic with colors of the rainbow.;
as he clutches them, it reminds him of his favorite candy...

Life was good and now it was time to test the myth..
the myth of the other side; if only he had had time to bid farewell.
As he munches the tiny capsules, he lays his head back and closes his eyes
A gold coin over each eyelid buys himself a one way ticket to Hades

* If only...*
--------- Interlude ------------
She sits there on her bed; bare legs feel the wooden floor beneath
the one constant thats seen her through the good, the bad and the ugly.
It's held enough bodies yet it stays cold; A tale it shares with it's mistress..
But it wasn't always so nor she...

Slim pretty wrists now have a thin red line,
each drawn with care and precision.
Not long from now, the color spreads and with it brings the cold.
Cold that is accompanied not by chill but by a warmth.

Peace beckons, with open arms...
Like a mother's embrace.
As she drifts away, she remembers that 'first kiss';
wishes she could taste it, breathe it, smell it; one last time...

* Ah! that first kiss *
---------- Interlude -------------
The king of the jungle views his conquests;
and he reflects his defeat;
Things hadn't gone as planned
and worse than what had been feared.

A house on top of the concrete jungle,
overlooking a wonderous patch of nature;
In their quest to preserve it stood a sign...
one that warned frolickers to keep off the grass,

He had never been there in his odyssey to get to the top
now it was far too late and much more...
An educated illiterate he is;
Rich with man's riches yet unable to 'buy' any joy...

As he contemplates his leap of faith,
a smile makes an appearance - *So much for keeping off the grass*
He had always wanted to fly like a bird as a child;
He had finally got his wish.

*Wheee...*
~Outro
You can hear the beats..
You can hear the rhythm..
You can hear the chorus..
Now listen to the silence.

Suicide (Latin suicidium, from sui caedere, to kill oneself)
* Nearly one million people worldwide kill themselves annually - No 1 Leading cause of death.
* An estimated 10 to 20 million attempt to kill themselves every year.
* It is estimated that 12-20% of suicides are accompanied by a note.
* Religion has derided it, repelled it, expected it and demanded it...

Mufassa

Long ago I left my world and treaded into the unknown.
The high and low of nature welcomed me into the Serengeti.
The change in the breeze didn’t seem to affect as much as the surrounding.
I had grown up watching these plains, yet I was not known to them.
And one day I met Mufassa, and the Serengeti became home.

Amidst the silent plains and the overflowing water holes, we found the rest of our herd.
To hunt, to sleep and to celebrate, amidst the sun and the smell of new monsoons,
The circle of life revolved around and within.
We basked in the glory of dark games in the glazing sunlight.
A silent prayer, a warm thought and some wicked plays, all in a moment.

A herd we formed, to stay in the plains; none else could be a part,
As we soiled our own ground, guarded in sunrise and sunset.
Healed the injured, felt the unfelt and revoked the dark cloud.
Rewarded were we with the glow of morning dew on our droopy eyes,
The scent of a new day lingered in the air and the fire of the starry night.

Mufassa had held his own and ours too.
But the shortcoming of life became the mirror of our destiny.
The vultures of time came stooping low,
The hyenas of trust turned a page.

Mardy, Melmen, Alex and Mufassa tried to hold on to Gloria.
But she and the sun escaped the plains of the Serengeti, even.
Into the cold went the seldom lonely, but alone Mufassa.
The cold shudders sent a wobbly quake in our hearts.
Today, we look beyond the plains, beyond Mufassa,
A life that beckons a bygone era.
Keeping the tradition of the come and go alive,
We look to rule the Serengeti again, this time only within ourselves.

Dying Lilies..

Some people say people do crazy things when in Love. I couldn't disagree more, for 'loving someone' is the craziest of them all. Some of this is first-hand, some what i imagine how things could be, some of it is from stories belonging to others. You try and do the best you can, that's pretty much what anyone can hope to do..

Also, I'm not sure what the purpose of this is, actually there IS no purpose; the purpose kind of fizzled out a long time back. I just felt like writing it and here we are.

Dyin' Lilies

Behind the rickety gate, lies this wondrous patch.
It was ours to begin with, now it's mine to bury.
Flowers aplently but none as dazzling as those lilies.
Reminiscent of Van Gogh and his precious paintings...

I remember the taste..
of your lips, of your tongue
I remember the touch..
of your fingers, of our bodies.

She was a night flower and i a day bird.
A flutter of the eyes and a thousand flowers bloomed within;
A smile set off a hundred crackers all over,
like a country celebrating its independence.

I remember the smell..
of your hair, of the pillow the morn' after.
I remember the sound..
of your laughter, of our passion.

The table by the corner brings back more;
than any sappy song ever could.
5 hour highs over a joke found funny;
10 day ecstacy over a kiss shared on a rainy day .

I remember the sight..
of your eyes, of your sleeping form.
I begin to lose the face,
yet I remember the things that passed in between..

Senses have prevailed where Logic has failed.
Yet your face remains a haze.
A blur on a bright April day.
How did it come to be so..

Some things are too good to last
Some things are better 'on-off'
Some things you can never forget
Some things you can never remember

Time comes and days pass..
You try to hold on with all you got
only to see it slip away like grains of sand...
Days come and Time passes..

What we had is a private affair
but to be spoken of often,
if only to remind,
How it was to have a garden of Lilies..

Our garden o' lilies have now wilted
but the fragrance lingers..
The soil is fertile for some anew;
think i'll let the fragrance linger for just a while...

Melodic Irony

As I continue to fumble along in my archive chest; I have always wondered whether the 'words' be intelligent or rather pure emotion. In this quest, I have jumped from rainbow to concrete perhaps straying on the concrete side a tad more than necessary. Nonetheless, what I bring here is something I like to think that was born in transit.

This piece "Melodic Irony" could best be experienced to imagine a brooding figure towering over a pint-sized piano poking clumsily at the keys rather to his great delight (for those of you who have difficulty in potraying this image, take 'Schroeder' from the cartoon strip " Peanuts" who has a fondness for the piano, all due apologies Mr. Schulz).. surrounded by a women dressed in black and veils across their faces in a room, gaily chatting away as they sip tea off their bottom-less cups. I think this best explains the flow of the following piece, what it lacks in creativity it makes up (i hope) in the environment created. and the piano man continues....

Shooting star or One hit wonder,
Come again, what you are…
Fancy suits of dirty money
Look around, its just baloney

Man on moon and God on slippers,
Is Bush our very own Jack the Ripper?
My my my, I like you all, but I aint gonna be the one to fall…
Speak of WMD’s, last I heard Hate killed ‘em all…

Sunlit cloudy day, perfect for a swim
All I see are rivers of blood, Oh so very grim.
Do we laugh as loud and as often?
Are the hugs preludes to a coffin…

A touch is met with such suspicion
A whisper can ground planes, not worth a mention.
Is that facial hair? Follow me “sir!!!"
Could be the president or a mothball Fakir.

Hell!! Fly me off to the place I adore,
Hey Mr. Pilot!!!! Whoever said El Salvador?!?!

Human Nature..

It's been a while since something came up and a look in the past brought this across my wistful gaze. Some of you may have glanced at this one earlier and some may not. Nonetheless, this one is to the struggle... What is right or wrong may not be for us to decide as it does depend upon each of our perceptions, and I have taken just one. I would also like to stand my ground in my belief reagrding the struggles of fellow men, women, children, revolutionaries in their 'struggle' for the right to Freedom, Love, Expression, Live....

From the archives...

Its early noon, yet its pitch dark
The time had come for some, yet they walk
The journey has halted for those about to embark.

A mother looks around fearful of her womb
A crowd immersed her,
A dread engulfed her.
Somewhere in the distance, off goes a “meticulous plan”
Born in a cave or a boardroom irrelevant to the unborn child…

The Dust has settled, and gloom has descended,
If you pay attention, a child-like innocence has prevailed.

Battered & Bruised, Hurting & Dying.
A nation awakes; A raging bull
Like a storm before the lull.
“Masks” are worn, “Heroes” are born.
Morals are shot, Ethics in tatters, “‘tis time to avenge!!”
The glint of the devil behind this charade.

Above the din, below the heavens,
there flies a dove, desperate for penance.
She was a majestic color, pure & elegant at birth,
Now she’s back, with nothing to boast but a pitiful girth.

Time has passed; Flown for some, crawled for others.
Some say Evil is vanquished, others swoop like vultures.

There was a garden,
Homage to lovers, thinkers and frolickers amassed.
It’s still a garden,
But now it’s homage to victims, cretins & souls departed

We all yearn for peace,
Just don’t ask for my piece…
Let me kiss you,
Before I kill you…

The dust has settled and gloom has descended,
If you listen carefully, you can almost hear the sound of music.

“My ambition far exceeded my talent!”

Every once in a while comes a time when we have the opportunity to feel jealous. We feel jealous when we understand something we don’t want to accept. What happens when you have to accept something you don’t understand...?..

(Sorry to borrow a line and the title from the movie BLOW! But it just fits the bill here!)

Mick had it all covered, he thought.
Yet it was a battle waiting to be fought.
One day he fell into a pit.
And the fall led him into her arms.
Her smile brought out the unseen sunshine.

But it threatened to set away.
That did not stop Mick from basking in its glory.
He lived for the day, and died in his dreams at night.
Every star in the sky spelt Gloria,
And the moon was a smiley curve.

Never had he heard a laugh that could echo in his head,
He hadn’t known a smile that would bloom a flower bed,
Eyes that twinkled, oh lord!! More stars??

The first touch, Mick recalls, was what did it all.
He knew not then of the magical fall.
A bond; beyond thought, over reasoning and above sense.
Often they spoke, through their eyes, when only the truth was told.
Their silence spoke more than their words,
And a sea of dolphins swam, when their eyes met,
To witness, what the beautiful horizon had predicted.

Blessed with nine smiles was she.
Smiled at him, like she smiled at none other. Was it the tenth one?
Mick called her out, and she came. She always did.
They pretended to eat, while they laughed away.
Dropped her home, right into the breeze.
She’d freeze, but she’d say not to make it ease.
That didn’t stop her, from riding the breeze again; and again.

He’d stop under that big tree, always.
The bark on top of his head always led to her balcony.
And Mick’s wicked smile always fancied that thought!!
Stay for a minute, he’d say and she would for a half,
Her smile would make up for the other half.
And then the night sky would accompany him home,
When the breeze, the moonlight and the other suspects swayed to his tune.

One day she asked him to go away.
Now those stars have eluded him,
It’s as if they came with her and left after her.
A lonely star twinkles sometimes, in a confined corner.
Mick says it reflects his life.

He’s not a fallen star, but his rise is dampened now.
The blue sky is not smiling a wish anymore.

Why did it all go away?
Was Mick not able to chisel the deal real fine?
Or probably like she once said, “Another place another time”.
Mick needs no answer. He never needed an answer.
But he has questions.
It looks like its all over, but the voices tell him that its not.
Maybe he wants to hear these voices, that don’t exist.
They make sense though, and now Mick has surrendered to his destiny.
He’ll walk to the sunset, to find his sunshine.
At the end of it all, was it worth it? Or was it just lament?
He concluded, “My ambition far exceeded my talent!”