swem~in~the~mud

Stormy Seas of Calm.

2012-01-26T12:28:00.000+05:30

Crowds. Heavy manic crowded places.

Where, the faces merge to form a blur and sound peaks to a crescendo. Walk till the thoughts fuse to a single circular train of thought and we lose count of where the 'start' and where the 'end' reside.

That's what we need in these times of storm. Like a searing hot shower something to numb the disruptions and drown the confusion. We know what we want even if it is out of stock for now. We know what it will cost even if it is beyond our means.

Let us put our head down. Tuck our hands in. Let us walk.

Walk without a destination or rhyme till the feet lose the feel. There's hell in between my ears and we need to quieten these screams. Stop these churning wheels. The kind that set in motion a movie we do not want to see and the credits we know only too well.

It's these crowds of strangers that I look for. Where no one knows my name and definitely not my song.

.
..
...

It's been a while and we have calmer tides now.

With calmness, comes the unnerving realizations that what is, truly is against all belief. And with that, comes the bitter-sweet wave of acceptance, the kind that has been the aim of this journey.

We take a look outside the glass house and the bright golden yolk has emerged from within but it is still grey and shrouded in doubt and faith.

Things have changed. Things may never be the same. But then again, things have always evolved, as it metamorphoses into something unique capable of titillating the most ardent of skeptics.

It will take its time as everything does but there must be hope for a better wind. It's all we've ever had, from cradle to grave.

December Sky IV

2011-12-30T11:16:00.000+05:30

As the last but one sun of 2011 dawns upon me, I have yet again witnessed a magical december. Maybe now it is magical only coz it is december. I paint another picture on the canvas of this december sky..

As I open my eyes under this December sky..
I listen to two hearts beating a separate cry.
The clouds are talking and the moon is angry, surprising nei?

As I open my eyes under this December sky..
The smallest and mightiest of trees aspire to touch the sky.
The dogs are only staring, seldom to bite.

As I open my eyes under this December sky..
I sit alone as the suspects of time watch me dream underlie.
The need to stay happy is a bet I’m willing to gamble high.

As I open my eyes under this December sky..
I see joy flying around in the air, promising not to die.
To this prolonged moment, we raise our whiskey and rye.

As I open my eyes under this December sky..
I see the moonlight throwing a half smiling shadow, as I sip my chai.
It’s here that lives a lover, hiding as a thief, escaping the spy.

As I open my eyes under this December sky..
I see an old rock star, fallen from grace, trying to get high.
The reality check was a hard hit, but we hope he’ll do it alrigh’

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
I meet strangers over happy drinks and relish the stupidity and the high five.
Vooohoo, as the chills get into the burning eye.

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
The stars are traveling on my face, with the breeze, as I eat a humble pie.
A shooting star is the only star, lonely, and wondering kolaveri why?

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
I never slept, just made food and listened to music, captain wise guy.
I see a father dare to live an old dream, young ‘n gritty without a hair dye.

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
You ride the road more than the house blues can make you jive.
A mission in mind, a task at hand, a prayer in the heart, we’ll try.

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
Let’s plug me in and turn you on, till the end of air supply.
I am a sandman and I have to sell them dreams. Aye aye.

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
When I hear the sound of li’l Aiza’s cry.
Few things are more joyful, than the thought of that picture with generations of 5.

Rage Me.

2011-12-12T15:09:00.001+05:30

Rage.

Rage against my mind.
Rage against the situation.
Rage against your words.
Rage against my needs.

Rage against going forward.
Rage against being stuck in the past.
Rage about the uncertain future.
Rage against my surroundings.

Rage against me.
Rage against you.
Rage against them.
Rage against him.

Rage against intermittent hope.
Rage against fast disappearing hope.
Rage against the fear.
Rage against my dreams.

Rage against the lovers.
Rage against the dreamers.
Rage against the optimists.
Rage against the comfort.

and then,

sickness.
sorrow.
resignation.
death.

Rage against Death.

This one goes out to the reminder that, "Life is short".
Thank you. I'm trying the best I can, I hope it's enough.

Confessions of a Morbidly Vain Being.

2011-12-06T00:09:00.001+05:30

I sometimes imagine my own death. Nothing too extravagant. Usually, it's a heart-attack and sometimes it's a gun-shot or a stab wound. There's one problem with that though, I can never settle on the place where I will be shot or stabbed. Should it be the head, the torso or maybe right to the heart. Each with its own set of pros and cons. Who would've thought deciding where one is to be shot could be so troublesome.

But, whatever it was it would always be a personal death and not a group kind largely associated with terrorist activities. I guess it's my own parade and I am unwilling to share. Vain as it may sound.

Sometimes, I wonder if I'd have a happy funeral. The kind which is full of friends, laughter and memories. Maybe a few tears but not too many. I like the happy memories much more. I don't think there'd be any of that kind considering my family's religious beliefs. But, I suppose the closer ones can throw one for me in one of my favorite places. I have a few and I think the'd tip a mug and tilt their heads with a smile. I definitely hope there'll be music.

I've always wondered what my last thoughts would be. Would it be like the oft-recited commercially believed theme that my whole life flashes before me.? Maybe I will spend the last few moments thinking of the special people or maybe of my mistakes.. Personally, I hope I spend it on the special people. That would be a nice way to go.

While after-life has all its share of glory and mysticism, its the moment prior to it that has my morbid fascination. I've also always wondered if these thoughts are shared by everybody else. I'm pretty convinced they are. That free-fall as you jumped off a window or the chair with a hug on your neck. Maybe the onrushing sleep, so deep you just can't wait thanks to those brightly colored gum-drops. Or, that push on the little curved metal down your throat.

Fascinating to say the least..

I also wonder how long I would be remembered for before I'm just another note on a tree and this scares me more than anything. The thought that I'd be forgotten for not having been important enough..

PS: Whenever it is that this does happen, I always believed it is our fundamental right to have all our viable organs donated. I'd like mine to as well. There, that's the official statement. Someone better make sure this happens. =)

Take me for granted and I'll be your memory.

2011-11-29T04:51:00.001+05:30

She lies in bed. Staring at her hand. First, the left and then the right and back at the left. And just like that, the motionless fingers move. First, the thumb, then the ring-finger swiftly followed by the index and the middle finger. Nothing extravagant, just simple quick abrupt motions.

This amazes her. A varying seed of a thought has constantly flitted across her consciousness but refused to stay long enough to become a thought, a realization and an epiphany on its whole.

Her gaze shifts to the right limb and the exercise is repeated. Soon enough the legs are stretched beyond the quilt and the tiny 'obscene yet beautiful' toes are shaken from their slumber. One by one and in no particular order. And just as easy, the seed that became a thought matures into a realization.

She takes a step back.

All she needed was to think it. No, all she needed was to look at it. Visualize it even and lo, 'Bob's your uncle'. What would it feel like to be denied this. You visualize, you look, you think, you make a concerted effort and it just stared back at you. Comatose. What then.?

Would she value this inexplicable gift more then.? Once it is gone. Like the time, she hurt her legs and couldn't walk, run or trip. How much did she miss the trip where, she could brush off the rubble, laugh at the scar and blow away the pain. Immeasurable.

She knew now, the epiphany wasn't too far away. Heck, she didn't even have to make a concerted effort or look for it, or even think about it. Nay, not even a visualization was needed. For it had enveloped her. Like only an epiphany can.

Vaada

2011-11-03T17:16:00.000+05:30

My first attempt at writing in urdu:

Tumhari is tooti hui muskurahat ka vaada
Ek jaam jo hai piya aadha
Har shaam ko hota hai tumhara nazara
Ae shaitan-e-ishq, tere har sawaal ka jawab hai pyar hamara

Shuttle-bug..

2011-11-02T16:10:00.001+05:30

That train, I must catch..
I don't have my possessions.
Should they be here with me, I know not.
I should be in that train, I know that.

That train, I must be on it..
It stops where it stops and it promises a ride.
These times, I must bid them.
Those memories, I must keep them. safe.

That train, which calls me..
How do I cut these threads that connect me.
With no one to help pack or wave goodbye.
I feel empty and I'm so full, from everything.

That train, of new dreams and hope..
I see a field of daisies and a sky of a blue unknown.
I hear smiles and I feel laughter.
I sense warmth and love and comfort is our flavor

That train, shiny and morose..
Tattered suit and polished shoes.
A wrinkle for every adventure and a tear for every joy.
I should go quietly but it won't come so easily.

That train, won't you wait just a bit..
I know I must and I know I will.
But, I do love this place and this was mine.
Let me be here, just a while and smell the dead flowers.

That train, not long now..

Smiling and shiny.
Broken and morose.
Gleaming and bright.
Dark and painful.

We all have our stops and our stations. Some, we take out of choice and others we take out of need. This journey we travail, till we find the stop that we would like to get off. For now, maybe tomorrow and hopefully forever.

Days of our time..

2011-10-03T11:29:00.004+05:30

This was a marathon 'jugalbandi' of words, so to speak. Starting from the first line, alternately, along each verse, two wordsmith's try to weave a story through their thoughts, a story that had to end. But no story ever has an end, because as long as the day lives, the story is alive..

And then the game began..
With the skies threatening to rain.
We had to fight the battle..
This was not a time to get sentimental.

Fear was not an option but hope is a criteria...
The fight had to be taken to this society, this bacteria..
Are the weapons of our choice or that of our destiny.?
I think this time will stand as our testimony!

We will stand, because we're gladiators.
This is our fabric and we are but the tailors.
We will lead this because we should.
For they will say, this is where they stood..

Shivers under his skin and fire beneath her soles..
They have always been puppets of different moulds..
A mask for every occasion and a trick for every play.
The life gets older, but younger is the day.

The Beauty of Grey.

2011-09-22T12:42:00.003+05:30

“Who will save me?!”
Sang, that simple wailing banshee.
“Its times like these...”
she continued strumming her fingers.

As I watch, silently following every twitch.
I listen, learning to live again.
As I feel, the rush of emotion within.
I sing, accompanying the crescendo...

She looks and with a glint beckons,
I think she knows what it’s like to be us
To be the one that gives over and beyond.
I see her soul and it’s grey, it is mine all wrapped in one.

We take over now, together and apart.
I don’t think I belong here.
She doesn’t seem to care for that part.
And, for once I do not fear.

As she gets up in a trance by the fire of our making,
I let them be. I let it flow all within and let myself be.
As we merge, extinguishing all form and boundaries.
Our cursed gift becomes a gifted curse.

There are no possessions in this life of ours.
There is no ownership in this relationship of ours.
There is no hatred in this world of ours.
And, there will definitely be no defeat in this game of ours.

As I’ve stumbled along while I came to terms,
She takes my breath, this banshee.
She’s not pretty. She’s not even literate.
But I think she is wise, wise beyond compare.

‘TheBeauty of Grey is’ she says, ‘we are what everyone needs’.
‘The Cost of Grey is’ she reprimands, ‘we are always ugly’.

Chemistry

2011-09-21T18:57:00.002+05:30

What happens when it’s not the chemistry that is to blame?

What if, it’s just a case of bad timing?

Maybe all that needs to be said is‘Maybe, some other day?’. That’s what I think sometimes.

All you need is a dance party. Not a forced one with thebaying for blood, guts and all the other gory muck that comes with it but, justa pure unadulterated dance party. Where, the music takes higher precedence thanthe ‘groovy’ steps or the ‘slick’ clothes or the ‘who’s with who’ banality.That’s what I think at least.

Maybe it’s never the chemistry that was to blame. Maybe it’sjust the wrong hour of the wrong day. Chemistry never goes away. It’s alwaysthere come heaven, hell or high water. I feel it. I felt it then and I think Iwill always feel it.

All you need is a dance party and I will dance with my eyesclosed and my mouth contorted into a wide grin. Take away this pain, take awaythe tiredness and take away all my doubts.

Today, this very moment, I want to be free. Free of it all.

After all it's never the chemistry. You either have it or you don't. But, you never lose it mid-way...

The Step.

2011-09-17T13:12:00.000+05:30

Fear.

The Fear of losing. The Fear of loving. The absence of determination in the face of adversity. The presence of a road-block on the path to normalcy. It never fails to rear it's ugly head along with its twin sisters, insecurity and panic. The Fear of disappearing. Within the realms of ones surroundings as it engulfs the very existence of this being.

Never fails. An ever-present hand on your shoulder. Like a hunger pang that gnaws within yet prevents you from satiating it. Never disappoints. This Fear within.

These were the words that raced through her as she sat on that wooden chair facing her bed as she stared out the tiny window from the corner of her eye. It had been a good one hour since the hot shower was over. The one that was supposed to imbibe the determination or at the very least the false dawn of determination. Yet, here she sat, still. On her chair, half-numb and completely naked from the outside but even more stark from within. A shroud of numbness had descended over the being. She knew she needed something and to an extent even knew how and where to get it but just couldn't build the urge to get it. Terrible thing this.

So she does what she does best, and that is to dream with eyes wide open. Does not realize that the bell has been ringing for the last 15 minutes. Does not care. The washed clothes need to be hung yet they lie in a damp squib inside the washer. The weather is bleak but the promise is bright. It is ripe for the picking only no one seems to want it so much.

Does wanting something more than anything scare her from taking it. Or, maybe it is just living in the past. Maybe, it is time to leave all of it behind. She had friends who lived in the past, some in the present and a few in the future. But there were also many who didn't live at all for fear or hope of a better possibility. It was easy to over-see all this from purgatory. The worst of both worlds and yet perfect for a voyeur. Just perfect.

A simple step, that's all it takes - she said in her head. Let's take the first step and worry about what comes next later.. One Step. That's all it needs. One Step.

Cross-roads..

2011-08-25T13:54:00.003+05:30

The last few suns have brought out the feeling of a cross-road. A cross-road of what and where and who and how, remains a question unsolved as yet. The impending excitement gnaws at me from within, of a path that will open shortly.

Is this a decision I am bound to make consciously or, have the fates been drawn on lace with golden embroidery and a broken hand with a felt tip.? The anxiety is timid; timid like the left-over dew under the rising sun. The soul threads around the chasms of past disappointments but strong in belief of the glorious highs of yore. It lives a charmed life if only because it knows no other way. It however does keep in control its emotions, for an optimist within a pessimist it has always been.

Now, the train rumbles along oblivious to the happenings of it's passengers. Are they ecstatic over a promise.? Are they uncomfortable under a secret.? Maybe, quietly indifferent to the glances.

It looks from above, detached and attached, an umbilical cord not yet cut from its host. It ducks, it weaves, like a seasoned follower it rolls the idea within. Who chooses what, the traveler the path or does the path pick the traveller.? Questions flit like hungry flies over a rotting corpse but it isn't time for panic. At least not just yet.

While emotions hop from state to state, it changes its colors accordingly. Sometimes it is beautiful. Other times, just plain ugly. As it curses the turn of events and pouts as it sulks, it knows it wouldn't have changed anything given a re-do. It is afterall the most beautiful ugly one that I have come across..

Feel

2011-08-16T03:39:00.002+05:30

A sound in your heart.
A voice in your sound.
A tone in your voice.
A rhythm in your tone.
An expression in your rhythm.
Feel. the. rhythm.

A call for your freedom.
An ecstasy in your call.
A dance in your ecstasy.
A spring in your dance.
A flower for your spring.
Bathe. in. your. spring.

A lifetime of opportunities.
A collage of your lifetime.
A portrait of your collage.
A wall for your portrait.
A colour for your wall.
Paint. your. own. colour.

A sky of your hope.
A dream that soars your sky.
A tear felt for your dream.
A celebration for your tear.
A toast for your celebration.
Celebrate. your. every. moment.

Within Me, Without You.

2011-06-29T21:03:00.004+05:30

The longer the journey, the more intense the emotion, the more 'one' he becomes. As he sits in his little translucent shell, far removed from the rest, he watches himself accept, struggle, strive, adapt and grope. Like a brand new friend, he watches over, ever-present and ever-elusive. It is the only way he knows how.

I think it is imperative for a person to feel profound grief as it is to experience ecstatic joy. This constant flux of emotions is one that keeps his mind from going benign and the soul complacent. There is also a comfort of sorts as I travel, watching life pass by while a story plays out a movie of vivid colors and imagination in his head. I also find it unnervingly coincidental that the music from the device is completely apt for the events unhurling in his mind and outside my being.

The big hard sun has gone behind the curtains as she begins to weep. It is annoying. It is also calming. Though I'd rather see her smile and I imagine so would he. Another day perhaps..

The gentle rumble of the train lulls him to sleep. One of those contented kinds that are short, eventful and extremely deep. He dreams of something very vivid and a little too real to be ignored. Getting up with a jolt, realizes he has been biting his tongue again in his sleep. It is a tick that seems to be evolving into a habit. Thinking back over this, the pain coupled with the vice-like grip does bring about a comfort of sorts. The pain reminds me of how it is to be alive and the grip, a comfort a childhood quilt would bestow in the night against the monsters.

Amusing, this little mind of ours. Amusing beyond compare and belief..

A fantastically written little book - 'In a Strange Room' by Damon Galgut coupled with the make-believe non-fiction of one's life has played a strong part in its creation.

Puttu!

2011-06-16T17:48:00.002+05:30

Someone shared his innermost feelings with me, requesting for anonymity. I have tried to put them in words..

She is my shining star,
With her beside me, I stand to become a czar.
She screams at me with ease,
But her smiling breath fills the spring breeze.
She's my morning angel,
The queen of my castle.

I call her puttu, and she shies away.
If I mess around with her, she'll make me pay.
She'll frown and she'll stamp.
But on a dark night, she'll light a love lamp.
The shuga love can kiss away any pain.
When the skies will open, I'll dance with her in the rain.

She smells like a blooming garden.
So beautiful, she could be the next face of Elizabeth Arden.
Her lips are softer than the rays of the morning sunlight.
Her touch is warmer than a bonfire on a chilly night.
When she's in my arms, her smell gives me a glance of bliss.
When she whispers to me, I want to lose myself in her tender kiss.

Every breath of her's spells eternity.
Every evening spent with her is my serendipity.
Against all odds is the existence of our love.
She stands by me when I have no beyond or an above.
I will love her forever, till the sands of time tell our story.
I will love her forever, till stands the writer of our history.

Rocky's Bucket is here!

2011-06-15T13:10:00.005+05:30

Boy, don't we just love the bucket list! To continue what my man, Mudi began, we have the beautiful Rocky's list here:

1) Get a tattoo

2) Walk the red carpet in Cannes and pose for a photograph

3) Go Deep Sea diving

4) Buy a Louis Vuitton Bag

5) I want my man to propose to me in the most romantic way – preferably kneel down and slip away a solitaire in my finger

6) Pierce my belly

7) To be pampered all the time (24/7) (!!!???)

8) Make love by the beach

9) Buy a house - makeover with antique décor

10) Sponsor a child’s education

11) Show more & more love towards my family

12) Stop annoying him someday! He hates getting wet in the rain, so dancing in the rain with him! :)

13) Have children (4) and see my daughter become a Tennis star

14) Travel with him to the most exotic places

15) Walk on the beach at sunrise and sunset-only him and I

16) Adopt all the street dogs and have a dog home for them

17) Be happy and make others happy

18) Have a romantic dinner in an exotic island (wine and lobsters on the menu)

19) Sip my cup of tea every morning in peace, in my house, in my own front yard, staring at the sea!

20) Have a huge collection of Diamonds & Watches

21) Learn all forms of Latin American dance

22) Become an interior designer some day

The bucket's dripping now!

2011-06-14T16:28:00.002+05:30

To join the list of my fellow-dreamers, here's my own, thought-filled, ambitious, bucket list!

1) Drive a Ferrari one day, preferably, mine!

2) Stand in front of the Ferrari factory in Maranello, and pose for a photograph pointing at the huge scarlet behind, post it on fb and name the pic, 'that's the prancing horse behind me!! tee hee hee'. All this, after having seen ferrari do a 1-2 in Monza, and have had blared my lungs singing the italian anthem amongst the tifosi.

3) Meet Michael Schumacher and Salman Khan

4) Donate a lot of money to Being Human

6) Start my own education trust, and be alive to see a lot of kids educating themselves

7) Live by the sea (yes Mudi, me too!)

8) Serve food in my own restaurant

9) Have children, and see the boy become a race driver

10) Walk on a very clean beach at sunrise and senset, alone

11) Walk on that same beach at sunrise and sunset, only 'her' and I

12) Jump off a plane (the legal way)

13) Para glide off a cliff in new zealand, and over the sea

14) Watch the Monaco Grand Prix, from a yacht

15) Buy a house and see my parents playing with my kids in the frontyard.

16) Show more love towards my parents and family

17) Travel a lot

18) Swim naked in the beach (Yes, Mudi. Preferably, not with you!)

19) Write a book on my life, with some fictional touch.

20) (This is a new one) Become a brand manager at/around ferrari( a few years after which, I'd say adieu to the corporate world)

21) Take 'her' to some of the most exotic places in the world.

22) Own 100 pairs of shoes

The Bucket of Lists.

2011-06-12T12:34:00.002+05:30

Yesterday, the Rainbow and I enjoyed the day for what it was.

Nothing more, Nothing less. No expectations. No comparisons. None of it and it was nice. We smiled at near strangers, faced a mean sleeping cat, made silly jokes on body parts and saw my first 3-D movie on the big-screen.

Towards the end, we realized, we may have the answer to life even if we refuse to look at the solution. Here's a list of things we hoped to do, some at least once and others to make it a 'furniture' in this vast living room of ours.

11/06/11

The 'bow's list of Happy.

1) Visit Tuscany & Eat.

2) Lie Naked on the Beach.

3) Lose Weight.

4) Travel More.

5) Tell people "I love them."

6) Express More.

7) Dress the way I feel.

8) Learn to Swim.!!

9) Learn Dutch.

10) Want to be taken Piggy-back after a nice night out.

11) More surprise romantic dates.

12) Surprise people more.

13) Wear the 'one' real sexy dress.

14) Make Love in unusual public places.

15) Body-paint someone and photograph the creation.

16) Passionate kisses in the middle of the road.

17) Have a full-house as often as possible.

18) Love & Be Loved.!!

19) "Wants" a karaoke.

20) Inspire & Be Inspired.

21) Don't be afraid to say stuff.

22) Call family more often.

The List of M:

1) Swim in the sea, nude.

2) Bartend in a seedy bar or a loud party.

3) Backpack.

4) Get more tattoos on my life.

5) Stop waiting for the 'second voice'.

6) Grow my hair and pierce my nose. Again.!

7) Experience more (in every sense).

8) Live by the beach.

9) Sky-Dive.

10) Laugh more.

11) Get Dogs.!

12) Write more.

13) Sing more (in the shower).

14) Inspire & Be Inspired.

15) Make love in public places.

16) Love more often than not.

17) Be loved more often than not.

18) Have mangy, creative, free-spirited kids.

19) Don't be afraid to look like a fool.

20) Appreciate more.

21) "Enjoy Today".

22) Call family more often.

"(...)"

2011-06-11T05:54:00.003+05:30

Loneliness..

Surrounded by a million faces and the gaze finds a speck in the corner of the wall to focus on till it becomes a blur. Flitting in between the two images till there is no clear definition but a hazy blur. A blur within a blur some would say, and they wouldn't be wrong.

A closing emptiness despite the pleasures that can be sought at the flick of a wrist and snap of a finger. It doesn't help. Nothing does anymore.

A fear of the known peace or the unavailable familiarity. The new is not just unfamiliar but unliked with a force. Maybe the time has come to hang up these boots and test the theory of the round world.

Maybe, it is time to trust one's instincts no matter how big the loss.

Illegitimi Non Carborundum

2011-05-05T14:16:00.006+05:30

Early this week, we threw our third successful party that kicked supreme party-ass. People may complain though I haven't heard any. The mass majority did seem to enjoy it and we have even had a few eager beavers suggest we throw one on a boat during one of the upcoming national holidays or for the course-end party or maybe even take it to foreign grounds when we make our trip to France next week.

How wicked is that.? =D

Now, that the hole where the hangover in my head resided has been filled, the empty fridge which just contains a carton of milk, half-a-bottle of coke and my Birthday 'Paulus' - (I should really finish them but they look so nice in their fancy bottles) needs to be filled. I hate doing grocery shopping. Such a drab - firstly, being broke doesn't help. Secondly, I almost always go over-board with the meat and ready-made foods and chocolates and god knows what else will be there on the aisles that day.. I DON'T LIKE GROCERY SHOPPING.! *especially, when I have to cook all the food* =P

Does anybody also wake up after certain nights with scratches all over them. Infact, I know one person who gets up with bruises in the weirdest of places on her body. *ha ha ha* - I think there are some mysterious forces at work when we're asleep. Maybe we're victims of unseen dark beings or maybe even light monsters.? I'd love to know how common this is..

Continuing with the light and dark theme, I have another observation. If people have a similar fixation as I do with Serial-Killer and Crime mystery shows and movies, have you ever noticed how the killer is always a Caucasian Male. In some cases, a Caucasian Woman and even rarer cases Cauasian Couples that is aimed to mix it up and shock the 'be-jeezes' out of us. But, and here is where I make my point - Why do we not find any, and i mean, ANY Black Serial Killers or Sex Predators.!!

Can I scream out "Racism.!!" here.? Exclamations included. I get it not.

And, then Mr. George screams out "Freeeeedooom" on Mtv. I like his music, I think he had or probably still does have, a really good voice and some pretty smooth tunes.

The other week, I was at Hunkemöller helping the 'bow. And, the range of choices, colors, designs and texture available to them is fantastic. *Phew.!* I didn't know where to look and I almost had an impulse akin to the Grocery Shopping where I wanted her to buy 'em all. :P Needless to say, I wasn't allowed to make any more decisions, apparently screaming "YES.!!" with out-stretched arms pointed to the heavens with legs slightly far apart like you had just scored the winning goal for the World Cup wasn't helpful.

Women. Go figure.

Speaking of Women, I had this funniest of incidents the other night at the afore-mentioned Party we hosted. It was so awesome, as I keep repeating. If you don't believe me ask the 64 other people that attended. Now, in this party, I did something on a small scale that I had always wanted to do for a few years. That of tending a bar. I have filled in for people before but this time I took over for half-a-party. What great fun. I don't know any cocktails but, it's such a nice way to meet people and even better get 'em tipsy and make fools of themselves and still be good friends the next day. *ha ha ha* Yes, socially-retarded people as I need such tactics to make friends. We all need help. But, this goes well-beyond that. It always looked a lot of fun and it sure as hell was. Would love to do it again so, if anyone's throwing a party - you got yourself a bar-man. I'll also try and learn some tricks to spice things up.

Anyway, back to my pre-interrupted thought on women and how it is impossible to figure them out. As I tended the bar and sipped my brew with gay (the happy one) abandon, I had one particular guest come up to me atleast thrice, hold me by the arm and whisper: "I admire you. I think you have a very high integrity and I really admire that". This would not have been so hilarious (strange, it still would have been) had it not been for the fact that I had never seen her before that day or even spoken to her prior to the first of those statements and perhaps taking her order. Yup - Strangely Hilarious.

I probably should have asked what made her think I had a high one. It'd definitely have been a first. Missed a trick there, I guess. The 'bow and I sure did share a laugh over that story last evening while we waited an eternity for our meal at this Indian Restaurant by the canal. (Btw, if your food is delayed and the 'bow is your dinner partner, best be to take the side-alley - I have never seen someone go downhill so fast). I think I'm screwed once this post goes up.

I better make it up by downloading "Arthur". This movie looks hilarious. I don't think she'd want to punch me while she's laughing her stomach out. *sneaky.? I know*

I need new clothes. *sigh*

On a a final note, a whisper of solace, a yell of fire, a hug of warmth and a kiss on the cheek for a brother fighting a battle beyond the deep blue sea. It is not a war, I hope but a battle which he WILL get through. Don't let the bastards grind you down, Nabil.!

Life is too short to worry about little histrionics and moments of sanity. Aren't the greatest adventures the unplanned kind.? Something to ponder over, time to grow those balls and take off into the foliage only to come out half-bruised, dirty beyond recognition but alive and hopefully even free.

Disclaimer: Some events may have been exaggerated on a small level to get the effect consciously or subconsciously. =)

The Misbegotten Silence.

2011-04-26T00:19:00.004+05:30

It's begun to pour.

Someone's got a raw deal.

The angels are crying,

silently and with much fanfare.

There they sit apart,

Two parts of a machine once.

Familiar but strange,

Known and unknown.

"smile" like I am the only one.

Half-hearted attempts,

as they search for a needle in a stack of needles.

Where silence was once enjoyed,

'tis now met with suspicion.

The search is confusing.

Once known and now forgotten.

Around the bend, over and over.

Yet, the street remains unclear.

"smile" like you used to.

Maybe it's a dream.

Ready to be woken. again.

A pinch brings about pain.

None like that which lives with them.

He looked for his best friends.

The only gift he had,

stuck in his throat.

Their gifts are their curse.

"smile" for you are me and I am you.

There was a stranger amongst them,

akin to a cat amongst pigeons.

Darkness is a guest,

where passion had once resided.

As they stare into the distance,

I wonder..

Do they reminisce of passions gone by?

Do they worry of the heartbreak to come?

"smile" for I miss it so.

The big mighty ball of fire,

has gone west for a rest.

Lucy has her diamonds in the sky,

Darkness has its virtues.

As they step out..

They reach out.

And with a flash,

the're dancing in the moonlight.

Maybe, there is hope.

The odds are quite steep.

---fin---

This comes from a story I have imagined. The protagonists were this couple I spotted on a table. They were living in their own little world separated from the rest yet, there seemed to reside a chasm between them which one could have imagined to not have always existed.

I have imagined what may have been and liberties have been taken from present, past, personal and other passing influences. Like the seasons, so do relationships come and go.. I just hope we can savor each one for what it is and what it has made of us.

Notes to the Family..

2011-03-10T12:55:00.007+05:30

~Dear Papa,

The water is so red,

and the sky has a hole.

The most expensive items are free,

and our birth-right isn't anymore.

~Dear Mama,

The older I get,

the less tolerant I become.

Life is as beautiful as you described.

Love still hurts and friendships still save.

~Dear Sister,

Everything has a price, unfortunately.

What may seem, need not necessarily be.

Our life is our own, the world is ours to change.

For better or worse, excuses are extinct.

~Dear Gypsies,

Distance and Time have never mattered.

The hills have come and the valleys have gone,

What binds us together also releases us.

Let's never forget what has kept us alive thus.

~Dear Rainbow,

We've served our sentence from the trial.

Things will never be the same.

But, it can get better.

Every tear, laugh, wrinkle adds a line to our story.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm coming home. I'm coming home.

Tell the World I'm coming home

Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday.

I know my kingdom awaits and they've forgiven my mistakes

I'm coming home. I'm coming home.

Tell the World that I'm coming home.

-- S. Combs, S. Carter, J. Cole, A. Grant & H. Hafferman

Forever.

2011-02-26T04:47:00.004+05:30

This. This is me, there is no other.
This. This is me, dreaming my dreams like no other.
This. This is me, the rain king.
This. This is me, a world to offer but the garden isn't.

Tell me a secret and I will sing you a song.
Sing me a song and I will color you the ink of my life.
Color me a life and I will drop you a line.
Drop me a line and we will be together..

This. This is me, and my crown of scars.
This. This is me, a broom, a wand and the promise of forever.
This. This is me, and a seed of rebirth.
This. This is me, and the trees of life and knowledge.

You, may have it all..
You, could have it all..
You should have it all.

By the corner, biting your lips;
unsure, uncertain.
By the corner, fiddling your hands;
beckoning, enticing.

Control is not our birthright.
Behold, the sea of gratitude.!
Nor, is the fight ours.
Behold, the road to awe.!

Lustful.
Conquered.
Humbled.
Alive.

My Queen. My Kingdom.
Now and forever.
We shall...

------outro---------

This. This is me, a great ball of fire.
This. This is me, a fountain of calm.
This. This is me, a glacier of emotion.
This. This is me, and my empire of dirt.

------fin---------

The never-ending search to be "Forever" is more often than not found in the most unlikely of places, areas which one would not necessarily look into and rather overlook. Infact, the notion of 'Forever' itself is usually lost upon us.

A train-ride, strangers, 96 minutes, An eternity, A fountain, A story, Lives, "Forever" - I owe this to them all.

December Sky III

2010-12-30T13:01:00.001+05:30

Yes, it’s that time of the year-the best time! With December, comes the beautiful, enchanting December sky. Following my own little tradition, I give you December Sky III, expressing some more magical moments I witness year after year in this month.. .. .. ..

You know you love the december sky,
when life gives you opportunities to just feel high.
You know you love the december sky,
when you have no control over the curve of your smile.
You know you love the december sky,
when you feel the cold and sense the warmth inside.

You know you love the december sky,
when you break a heart, but find the bond.
You know you love the december sky,
when you discover the amount of love that comes around.
You know you love the december sky,
when you can sing your heart out and it’s not just a sound.

You know you love the december sky,
when november gave you a peek of the magical theme.
You know you love the december sky,
when you saw a brother win his dream.
You know you love the december sky,
when you were standing next to him, proud as a team.

You know you love the december sky,
when you get lost in a pair of beautiful eyes.
You know you love the december sky,
when you pray for a rain dance filled with surprise.
You know you love the december sky,
when you steal pretty smiles, starry glances and silly lies.

You know you love the december sky,
when you miss them loved ones, but they’re jus t a click away.
You know you love the december sky,
when you silently wish for a prayer and dream of a new ray.
You know you love the december sky,
when you yearn to live a colourful today.

You know you love the december sky,
when you feel the spirit to get what you desire.
You know you love the december sky,
when success eludes you, but promises to meet you after the ball of fire.
You know you love the december sky,
when you get to eat sugar coated ecstasy, and it promises to take you higher.

You know you love the december sky,
when you see the lazy sun, after the power moonlight.
You know you love the december sky,
when you lead the breeze into your smiling face, without a fight.
You know you love the december sky,
when you touch the wind with your bare hands in a night flight.

You know you love the december sky,
when you taste the honey on a day so sunny.
You know you love the december sky,
when you wish to get marching on a long journey.
You know you love the decmber sky,
when only a smile can brighten a misty morning

You know you love the december sky,
when you’re dancing in flushing meadows.
You know you love the december sky,
when you’re watching flashing lights.
You know you love the december sky,
when you’re standing in front of gushing waves.

You know you love the december sky,
when you’re electrified by the sound of music.
You know you love the december sky,
when you let that music burst into your veins.
You know you love the december sky,
only because you can.

December.

2010-12-13T16:48:00.008+05:30

Morning Comes..
Mist, Dreams, Smiles..
The missing jig-saw piece in your arms,
makes heaven seem not as alluring.

The day has been long coming.
For reasons known and untouched.
The day has been long coming.
Simply for what they had and hoped.

As the sands of time trickle,
grain by grain by grain.
The Sun spies through the curtain of clouds.
And the crooner croons by himself.

Specks of life stand and watch,
Others join in the revelry,
But most hold what matters most to them
close, closer, closest.

It's time to walk,
an unknown destination beckons
Three sisters by the corner.
They wave, we smile.

This'll do say the unspoken words.
What was to be a cup and no more,
leapt to something from the past.
The day had made his exit

Guess he felt we didnt need him anymore
I think we were ok. I think we were stronger.
God's house had closed. it didn't stop the prayer
Thank goodness for that

The wind decided to help with her gusto
grips were tightened and steps quicker
the smiles were more genuine now

it was good.
it was grand.
it was normal
it's what we had missed.

Miss Darkness.

2010-10-27T13:37:00.004+05:30

As the leaves change outfits,
and seeds are lain.

As the chimney smokes,
and bodies inch closer.

As the sun gets lazy,
and we embrace tighter.

Miss Darkness,
You've never looked prettier.

Souls are still taken away,
Cries are still unheeded,
Dignity is still snatched,
My soup is still cold.

A group of equals linger,
yet, the one that completes, is far.
Second chance to laugh out loud,
yet the protagonists are mute.

As the wind begins to run,
and smiles become herculean.

As water begins to stand still,
and our noses not so.

Miss Darkness,
you are a vision today.

Clohes are ripped,
Wombs are emptied,
Tongues are tied,
Morality has moved.On.

The gaze is permanent,
None are seen.
Nothing is registered.
A barren land to be tilled.

As clouds converse,
and shade sought.

As we lie,
In a little while, it'll all be good.

Miss Darkness,
Would you fancy some company.?

Hands are empty,
and nothing to offer.
The soul needs a tickle,
and you seem to be just what it needs.

I AMsterdam..

2010-09-06T15:17:00.003+05:30

Hey Hey Hey..
The Sun is out and the clouds persist,
It warms the heart and tingles these fingers of mine.
Breathe in.. Breathe out.

We're all trying to make sense of it.
What was meant to be the destination,
could it just be a detour to the real adventure.?
The map I had believed in, is incomplete.

Prophets of all shapes and sizes.
Colors of peace and that of hatred.
Of love and some of solitude.
Reminiscent of a guitar string plucked.

There are smiles and there are smirks.
There are winks and brushes.
Most are warm, a seldom few, distracted.
Faith; it keeps the world revolving.

From the West, they come.
From the East, they come.
From the North, they came.
The South, not far behind.

Strangers nearer than family.
One became two and yearn to recapture old form.
It's not rocket science, it's just everything that isn't.
Hey, Hey, Hey. Breathe In. Breathe Out.

I feel I am home,
Yet, the furniture is askew.
Everything beckons and I've re-found my lost half,
hopeful for the hills rather than the valleys.

Goedendaag en tot ziens..
Dit is mudi, idum, marie en muxxxi met liefde.
omdat ik AMsterdam

Good Day to you too, Sir.!

2010-08-06T03:25:00.005+05:30

It's a good time going on.

Now.

Yes, it is.

I've got Johnny Nash singing and it feels alright. Yup.!

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It's gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.

39 days since I last worked.
29 days I spent in MY gypsy-land with MY gypsies.
10 days before I see the Rainbow. *crosses fingers and knocks his wooden table*

I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I've been prayin' for
It's gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.

It's been a while since i clickety-clacked the keys and with the new day dawning, the fingers do seem that little bit better tuned. He's just broken into chorus and the foot has begun to furiously pedal.

Look all around, there's nothin' but blue skies
Look straight ahead, nothin?but blue skies

I feel good. =)

"Tragedy is an Artist's best friend". I still believe it with all my heart. But, just this once, let's buck the trend and rage against the storm. I think I've wallowed in tragedy of whatever design, nature, reality or imagined for far too often. It may come back and when it will, we'll deal it with in our very own special untrained way.

But for now, let's enjoy this small teensie-weensie tiny corner of joy.

During my prolonged, nay, endless viewing of the telly, I seem to come across this cliché of a Wedding being the one and only thing a Woman truly cares about. It's surprising and I truly wonder how strong this actually holds out. They make it sound like how a Match/Race Day is to a Guy. (Another cliché, that the latter is only for Men and I know plenty of women to buck the trend. However, for argument's sake, let's go with this).

Let's focus on the latter tradition for a few lines now. I know we ALL have our rituals, traditions and mention-nots. The ritualistic donning of the colors, the waving of the Flag. Furious swaying as you try and sit in the same position throughout the entire ceremony (read: event) for the simple fear of jinxing them. Singing/Humming along the songs/anthems. It's not just your team, it's "Us", "We", "My". Absolutely no tolerance for lame, immature jokes by them social wannabe watchers. To celebrate like you just won a Billion, Gadzillion Green Ones with every Goal/Overtake Maneouvere. And finally, the celebratory drink afterwards. Ofcourse, it could also be the disconsolable 'pick-me-up' drink too. We are but creatures of habit.

I once burnt KFC as I tried to reheat it on the micro (?!?) while the game was on. Yes, it's an old story but definitely not a rare one amongst my kind. I am NOT ashamed.!

Isn't it funny, how after reading it all, people wonder "So, what point is he trying to make.?" he he he Silly Mongooses, I NEVER have a point.

Aaaanyhoo.. (Y'know, I've never really understood that term). What is that even supposed to mean.? Is it Anyhow.? Anyone.? Any..who (are we talking about here?). Bleddy 'ell.!

I could easily just slipstream unto my detest for this new-fangled SMS lingo (ugh!). But today, is 'Happy Day'. So, THAT, will be for another day and another poor victimised reader plus Shruts, Sue, Rich and the Miz..

Today, I'm going to spend time with Mum,Dad and Sana. Crack silly jokes, laugh out loud and pray my Embassy visit goes just fine in a couple of days. Content =)

Today, I will think of the times to come. Of adventures to be had. Of my life with the Rainbow. EEEEEEEEE =)

Today, I will also look back on my last trip with the gypsies and other passing nomads with a Monster-Smile and a slightly lumpy-misty heart. Soon again. =)

I feel good.!

And now, excuse me while I wait for reality to kick in..

Something Human

2010-07-02T11:40:00.003+05:30

When I touch the sky each day,
I have a world, to pray,
Some more to say.
Feeling the sound of the empty in my cave,
I am but a newborn, bound to be a slave

There’s something human about my stride,
There’s something human in the way I smile
There’s something human about the way I fight
But it’s all just a myth, as you see through my guile
And now you wake up again until you can sleep a while

When I pray for a new feeling,
I can see myself healing
And a little song I hear,
Humming itself in my ear, year after year
I’m on a journey that is not over, but the end is here

There’s something human about my stride,
There’s something human in the way I smile
There’s something human about the way I fight
But it’s all just a myth, as you see through my guile
And now you wake up again until you can sleep a while

When the light decides to shine,
I’m an angel defending the crime.
The bells have no chime,
Coz I’ve sold them all for a mere dime
In this life, I may not reach my prime.

There’s something human about my stride,
There’s something human in the way I smile
There’s something human about the way I fight
But it’s all just a myth, as you see through my guile
And now you wake up again until you can sleep a while

This one's for the kids..

2010-06-13T19:10:00.003+05:30

Now, let me tell you a story.
Of a time, when you asked for water and got gasoline.
Being good was bad and bad was ok.
Don't shed a tear, that's not what we need
Pay attention to the rhythm instead.

They fail me sometimes, these words.
Take the baton, we've all followed once.
The fabric is now ripped.
Let's stitch it our way now

* Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha... *

Do you hear that.?

No.? ..shame.

The old colors are now dead.
The riff still plays.
The're calling out, wanting to be heard.
You'll hear them, soon enough.

Just wrap my arms around.
It might get loud and the parents are out.
Just wrap my arms around.
There are no rules, there are no laws..

Smell that, my puppies.
That would be a verse.
Taste this, my flower.
This is disappointment
Feel that ye rascals.. Mischief is its name.

The old colors ARE dead.
Now, we paint anew.
Today we fly.
Tomorrow we dive.
The magic is all around.

We were invincible too.
As you are now.
Rebel. It's why we live.
Laugh. It's how we live
Celebrate.! You are story-tellers.

Note: This flurry came out thanks to this very interesting little telly bit I managed to come across - "It might get loud". A session between the legendary Jimmy Page, The Edge and Jack White. They swap influences, creations, inspiration and best of all jam music the way it's meant to.

The Death of History.

2010-05-29T21:50:00.006+05:30

Those green patches he got on, aint so new.
His cap's just as dull as they are few.
It wasn't too far ago when the moon brought light.
Now it brings the darkness that eats within.

The flag they raise is a chameleon,
changing colors as and where they rage from.
The drums they beat are hollow,
The skin they beat is callous.

Could you whisper in my ear.
What it feels like to be near
How it feels to scream out loud
maybe we are just not meant to shout.

And as it happens,
For a moment, all the pain ebbs away.
Just one moment. That's all, y'see..
Remember that, for all else is just your own garbage.

The're talking in their sleep
It's keeping me awake, without a dream
The whimpers are overtaken with hushed tones
they aren't asleep, just our talking dead.

The street musicians written his tune,
so the reviews are left in ruins
but then he's tightened those chords.
just like the cocked guns and locked targets.

The memory is not what it was first,
rusted metal and a stoop for passer-birds
How many have gone underground they know not
The reason for their being lain down, they care not

Have you ever touched the night..
Have you ever watched the wind blow..
Did you ever feel the glance,
Ever been blinded by the Rainbow..

Post Script: The last verse was taken more or less from a musical piece written by the Stones that Roll. It takes me some place else. Some place nice, pretty and dream-like. I like it.

Tic-Tac-Toe.!!

2010-05-23T21:35:00.008+05:30

I want to write for a living. Just write. No pre-decided topic or direction. Just write, like I think, like I ramble.

I want to ramble on my love, which is football, a certain rainbow and maybe the mad gypsy troupe. I want to ramble on my love for quaint drinking joints or my love for the beach. Maybe my fear of all the creatures under the water unseen by my handicapped eyes. Sometimes, I think I'd make a great cartoonist only to be dissuaded by my never-dying need to be appreciated. I'd love to be a song-writer, even if I can't carry a tune and I wish I had held my stubborn chin till I got those drum lessons instead of the darn piano. Shame, I still can't play a note and have completely forgotten to read one.

"Have you ever seen the rain..?!" - sings John Fogerty and I yearn to be a hippie backpacking across the fields waiting to get anywhere and nowhere. I think I'm a romantic, with a tendency to romanticise everything and yet I find the greatest comfort on my couch, watching a game and munching on some meat.

Ah.! A wannabe Rainbow-Hopper and yet a slave to the Concrete-Jungle, whimper I.

I have spent some amount of time wondering why I can't write anything meaningful anymore. My last 5 or so attempts have yielded nothing that even I, a soaring egoist would want to beam over. The lack of tragedy was blamed for the lack of 'penmanship' by them voices. Tragedy, after all is an artist's best friend. One very close gypsy however, reckoned it was during moments of dizzying elation that he saw flashes of brilliance in these typed words. Besides trying to be nice, he might just have a point. After careful delibration, it has been decided that it is not just profound grief or toe-tapping, hip shaking joy alone for that matter that bring out the juices but rather an extreme sense of being. Whether that is achieved by the former or latter is irrelevant but it does tend to bring alive every microcosm (Yes Suzie, I couldn't resist) of thy self. =)

Yesterday, a colleague of mine passed away as he lost control of his car and crashed into a divider. I hear he was a young boy who was to get maried in 10 days. I didn't know him. I didn't even know he existed till the news reached me, yet I felt the anguish. More so, with regards to the fact that I tend to live my life without any thought that every breath is a gift. And, as soon as that thought comes in, I block it out with something inane like the popping of a button from my shirt at the most inappropriate of places which cannot be hidden and definitely not ignored.

Keeping pace with topics that seem to flit around, I really don't understand how people can get names wrong even when the're replying to an email at work. I mean bleeding hell, it's right there on the mail-id. Morons, I tell you.! The only way to calm me down with this, is another sojourn through the many football sites on my favorites list as I travail for any scrap of information on the upcoming events, the ever-delightful transfer gossip (What? Beckenbauer to put on his boots for Liverpool to help stem the rot.?!), previews of games I will be watching and compare my player ratings with the various post-match editors. Yes, I have a non-existent social life but I love it nonetheless. Immensely.

I also realized I have zilch cooking skills, absolutely zilch. Just the other day, I looked forward to some left-over KFC, fries, coleslaw (gaaaa...aaaaaah.. drool and all included) and all I had to do was re-heat it. Just re-heat in a simple-to-use microwave. 15-20 secs, you would say.? So would I. But, I'm not sure what, was it the Champions League Final or the Brain-freeze thanks to the upcoming meal but I put it as 20 mins.(!?!) *yes, I can be that distracted* and as is obvious promptly forgot about my dinner only to notice something was amiss when mum & dad walked in from their dinner outside and a very disturbing odor of burnt meat wafted in. sigh. Let's just say, I have never seen charred meat as that before nor have I tried to ignore the burnt smell in the house to avoid them going further mental. Oh! and the game was a joy. Not that I had any preferences, especially since that lucky two-shoe robben and his once in a trillion shot. BAH!

Anyway, more to the point of this long tedious narration, the above incident has only added more strength and conviction to my belief on how I shall tackle my cooking inadequacies and at the same time help thy rainbow with the culinary bit.

Enter Child#1.

Now, what use is procreation if they are unable to repay some of that 9 month labour - some would say only the missus has to bear this, but Hey.! I'm sure we have as much to deal with it as they do. Anyway, so once they are old enough to be coherent say, we gently nudge them onto their life-long 'passion' which ironically would be cooking (!!) Can you imagine, a hard day's work and wanting to cook.? Heck no.! I want the beach and a cold chilled beer. Therefore, I plan on creating a whole gamut of lil mutts and flowers to take care of the cooking, house-keeping, groceries, chores et al. =D I must say I'm mighty proud of myself and all that's left is to get the rainbow on board. *eeps*. =)

And, to top it all, it's barely 2 months before I pack my bags for Amsterdam. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! and Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey!!!=D

I was going to name this "Write says Fred" but then again word play has been so wonderfully used by my fellow gypsy earlier so I shall refrain from sharing his thunder.

Damn would you believe it, but the team in front of me just ordered KFC for lunch. Effing 'ell.!! I wonder if the'll let me heat it up for them.

*snigger snigger*.

A Writer on the storm

2010-05-18T16:48:00.002+05:30

A writer on the storm, I’m a poet out of form
Awake from a long sleep, I stand at the brink of dawn
Rigging the thoughts of an honest mind,
I convince myself to have done no crime.

The old song has hit a new note
Dressed to kill, I run out wearing my black coat
The alley of fortune has let me walk it again
Darker is the night, so is the hour, through this lane.

The fire bird came home to me, brought some glee
She kills the silence, only to save me
And now our music is louder than our feeling
Hold the smile; it’s the key to my breathing.

Beneath the fire of passion, unfolds the story,
Of a sleeping desire that holds within, a little fury
This feeling has pushed me to the helm of unknown
Now I’m gone, but my shadow waits all alone.

Thinking of the loudest laugh that made me cry,
I figure, this is a speech that’s bound to be wry
Blowing in a wind, the boat ride is not free
The dock awaits the rocky rider and the beloved sea.

Letting go the still moment, the night has finally turned to dawn
The touch and the passion have left, but they’re still not gone
A brush of skin has poked an old wound
One that seems to remind me of a long gone moon.

dance rocky, dance

2010-02-27T02:27:00.009+05:30

wiggling like a snake,
i'm here today, bluffing to the fake.
i'm the clown who wept to sleep,
laughing crazy, as the dream forgot the leap.

i fell into a ditch, on my back
trying a new trick, i gathered my stack.
a plane of dreams flew me down to this world
and i became a new pot everyday, to the same old mould.

a little brat, who missed the last train,
i'm now a street act in the next lane.
dancing to the jungle beats, i was born for the stage
now just an actor stuck in a script, with no page.

waltzing with every night star, i lived in the sky
seeing the magic of a shooting star, i'd feel the high.
down i came with the rain, when the stars died
but i stand in front of you, smiling, that i tried.

my game is not done, and i will arrive
the curtain call is sometime away, so don't stop the jive.
i will do my own, only mine, and pay the toll
by the time the show is over, i will have played my role.

Tressling..

2010-01-25T21:43:00.005+05:30

So many souls on a do-it-yourself trip.
The manual out the window, ready to rip.
Do you also see them through the fog within.?
Squinty eyes, pudgy fingers and lithe bodies pulsating..

I've got stars on my hands and clouds under my feet,
I'll even throw a brick on that glass house if you'll let me drum the beat.
We had a hole and we had the plug..
but shouldn't we rather wait for our turn on the magic rug.?

A feather that's come loose, run it by your skin lightly.
Close your eyes and let the touch guide you dreamily..
I know you know the tune,
Come on hun, hum it under this full moon.

I felt i was meandering through and without a reason
not a tear or a frown but a clue not found.
You have been the rhyme and the color in the day.
And now, you are just a whisper away..

Stand under a wooden railway..
Watch the train of life rush by, above you.
Feel the smell of metal on God's breath..
And we wonder, isn't life just beautiful.?

Today. Is our day.
Today. We begin our life. Again.
Today. Is you. Is me. Is us.
Today. Is a beautiful day.

and it struck me now..

2010-01-16T01:54:00.002+05:30

..and the song played one last time,

and the bride danced to the rhyme,

and the fool wept over his last dime,

and it rained down at the climb,

and you felt the cold in your spine,

and it struck me all in my prime.

..and the illusion began a long time ago,

and the truth was lost in a shadow,

and now it threatens to land a heavy blow,

and the boat has lost its row,

and now I am the arrow, you’re the bow,

and it struck me now when I’ve lost the flow.

..and the feeling is new and not old,

and the greed is wild, but not too bold,

and the story is waiting to be told,

and the cowards are new, in an old mould,

and the strangle is strong, so is the hold,

and it struck me now, when I have no gold.

..and the war is over, but not the fight,

and the land is thirsty, but none can feel the plight,

and the sky is praying to see a kite,

and the window is open, but there’s no light,

and the child cries, as it tries to hold on tight,

and its struck me now that I’m the only knight.

..and now the book is filled with words and feeds

and the pages are confessing our deeds,

and the story is wound in some beads,

and the writing is bad, so are our needs,

and we may have lost the time to plant new seeds,

and the sun will set on this tale, on our weary pleads.

December Sky II

2009-12-28T17:35:00.004+05:30

December is such a beautiful month. For me, its the best month of the year. A bad year ends, hoping for a better one ahead. A good year ends, giving hope another chance. But apart from the colours and the light perfumed breeze, December is about the beautiful sky. A sky filled with millions of clear sparkling stars and dreams. A sky, i cannot stop gazing at. A sky, i cannot stop dreaming about. Here's an ode to the december sky.. .. .. ..

You're under a december sky,
when you look at a star through the branches of a tree.
You're under a december sky,
when you let the breeze kiss your face, wild and free.
You're under a december sky,
when time stands still, for just he and she.

You're under a december sky,
when the street lights shine only for you.
You're under a december sky,
when you see the morning dew.
You're under a december sky,
when you dream the same dream, but this time its new.

You're under a december sky,
when you just miss the sunset.
You're under a december sky,
when you don't mind it at all and you don't fret.
You're under a december sky,
when you're lookin' at the many colors left by the sunset.

You're under a december sky,
when a moon is a neighbor to a million stars.
You're under a december sky,
when you're in a battle, fighting wars.
You're under a december sky,
when her smile can kill the scars.

You're under a december sky,
when a filmmaker is telling his story
You're under a december sky,
when you reunite with them all.
You're under a december sky,
when you're at the beach, near the rocks, praying for a free fall.

You're under a december sky,
when your phone stops ringing with numbers, calling you for an evening at froth.
You're under a december sky,
when you leave them all, with a promise to come back, after walking a mile.
You're under a december sky,
when the breeze fills your eyes, your soul, your smile.

You're under a december sky,
when good ol boys are drinking, singin', wishin' to stay alive.
You're under a december sky,
when you laugh at ol' jokes, passing a high five.
You're under a december sky,
when a stranger makes you think, makes you realize.

You're under a december sky,
when you see the sight of two brothers reuniting with a sister.
You're under a december sky,
when we all clap for floating bawa, as he commits.
You're under a december sky,
when you see it happen, at home.

You're under a december sky,
when you hear someone say, 'don't let curly hair get away'
You're under a december sky,
when you can smell 'curly hair', but pretend to smell her perfume.
You're under a december sky,
when you listen to 'i love a rainy night'
You're under a december sky,
when you're actually in a rainy night

You're under a december sky,
when you can't say what you need to say.
You're under a december sky,
when you go away, but promise to stay.

From here unto there..

2009-11-05T22:49:00.004+05:30

Today, I took part in my first funeral in Saudi Arabia. I didn't know the person, I don't even know his name nor had I seen him before but it still pricked and it numbed and it sobered me with a sprinkle of humbleness.

Apparently, screeching rubber and searing turns with a gravel turn table resulted in putting a full-stop to his physical presence, an interim in those that loved him and a hyperlink to a new adventure for his soul.

This though hasn't been my first. I have been a part of my Gran' Pa's but have missed out on a lot of other passing-ons primarily due to the physical distance. This was different in some aspects.

I realized that in this part of the world, graves are un-marked as it is against the 'school of thought' to do otherwise. I was also given a small pictoral demonstration of how the grave is dug and structured to ease decomposition, prevent the stench from coming out and protection from scavenging animals should there be any. I was part of a tradition that I was very honored to be a part of.

The calmness and the composure exhibited by the person I knew, whose kin was lying a few feet away as he greeted the mourners. Calmness which I'm not very sure I would be able to possess should we trade shoes, God forbid. I tried to pass on as much warmth as a hug and some hollow words could - I hope he's warm.

I wonder if 'he' saw us from above, perched upon a cloud. Wishful thinking, many would say and I would most likely agree.

Maybe I'm reading too much into this..

The Pursuit of Happiness

2009-10-09T05:20:00.005+05:30

John Lennon wrote, "Happiness is a warm gun.." and millions have and are crooning it ever since.

Happiness..

Happiness is just another word for a feeling. Science explains it as a realease of endorphins in your brain that induces euphoria. Drugs such as morphine, heroine and cocaine are classic endorphin-releasing entities, which would more than explain the cause of such ever-growing addiction.

Happiness..

Happiness is sitting on a deck chair soaking in the rays in your porch after a heavenly joint.

Happiness is laughing over a rickety table with your 'family of nuts and bolts' over something inexplicable.

Happiness is hearing her breathe as she sleeps in your arms.

Happiness is a call thanking you for a job well done.

Happiness is sharing a story of mucking up an exam 8 yrs back to thunderous rapture.

Happiness is dancing in just your shorts all night long by the beach with the ones you love.

Happiness is seeing that smile, everytime.

Happiness is to see the sun rise, and to continue dancing by the beach with not a care.

Happiness is a first kiss under the starry sky.

Happiness is still being able to recollect the taste and the feel of it.

Happiness is seeing colors bounce off and the glee of it all.

Happiness is my baby and I miss my baby so..

Disclaimer: I really should stop borrowing other's titles.

19:18

2009-10-01T21:20:00.003+05:30

Black Crows are circling over my head.
The gypsies playin' her guitar all along.
From Sundown to Sunrise...
It's her smile, I search for.

The Thunder has begun,
The storm is gonna come..
There's a Shadow.
and here's a switch.

I have the 'X' marking the spot.
The ship is ready to sail.
The Sails are tattered though
and the rudder is out...

I can hear her sing..
Last time out it was a siren.
This time, I cannot afford to be wrong.
Eyes never lie and that is my belief.

The gypsy continues her haunting tune.
The moon rises, a bad moon rising.
But the stars are twinkling too.
Starry skies have always been kind to me.

Raise the anchor.
Turn off the switch.
No more shadows.
Just me and the darkness.

The darkness had scared me as a child. I had beaten it in my late teens and then I met those that brought light and the shadows. Their absence has left the lingering light still but brought out the shadows, those despairing shadows. Only now, I am not so afraid as I am lost.

Shaking Hands

2009-09-04T15:10:00.003+05:30

They say one of the best ways to judge a man besides the quality of his shoes is the way he shakes his hand.

Some have a nice firm one, the kind that exudes confidence, calm and leaves you warm. Others shake it as if they have lost all blood in the arm and leave it hanging, makes one wonder if they never learnt that its bad manners to leave your dirty linen hanging in public. tch..

Much like their personality, their hand shakes. I've had a lot of very interesting and very varied hand-shakes. I've learnt from them all..

There was this one handshake in particular, it belonged to 'ck' and 'dh'.. It's origin, I don't remember but it felt like it was born with the universe and gained immortality. It was synonymous with a nice, smooth, easy, comfort ridden rush as it comes. Our bond was much the same. No effort at all and yet as embracing as a full-blown trip.

We learnt to kiss the sky and we learnt to dive into the abyss.
We crashed and we soared, got burnt and were reborn...

There have been many other hand-shakes, no doubt and they all had their importance but this is not their time. Theirs will come in due course. However, I miss that handshake. I have still got so many but this one's absence leaves me all prickly feet like the final missing piece in the collectors collectibles. I wish it and it's soul well for they were fellow trippies and they are family. I wish them the best of 'ying' and 'yang' and I hope to someday swap shakes with them before the curtain comes down on this play of ours.

You and I

2009-09-03T11:11:00.002+05:30

Come,
Come away with me..
Forget the destination.
Just You and I.

Pack your bags..
let's go.
Destination anywhere.
Just You and I.

We be good.
We be fine.
We be peachy as sun colored ripe peaches..
Just You and I.

Let's make love,
Let's sit by the waves,
Let's kiss under the setting sun into the smiling moon.
Just You and I.

The Earth will revolve around the Sun.
The Moon will revolve around the Earth.
Our love will revolve around us..
Just You and I...

Irony bringeth the iron man here

2009-08-12T05:19:00.003+05:30

Oh, the pain I feel for some gain
Time and time again
To sway to a fluttering tune,
To orbit around the full moon

Oh, the pain I feel for a smile
To see her run into my arms, from a mile
The lone tear in my eye,
Always brings the rain from the sky

Oh, the pain I feel to cry a tear
For the one who broke my heart, the only one, too dear
Just when I wanted another day to pray
For me and you, against the fray

Oh, the pain I feel to smell you near
But to win another loss, I fear
Listening to the music of ten piano’s,
Wish you sit next to me watching a blooming rose

Oh, the pain I feel to kiss your eyes
As they close at sunset, a sonnet they reprise
To swim in the breeze from your hair,
To walk with you by the sea, painting the sand, I'll pay any fare.

Oh, the pain I feel to want to stay
Don’t let me let you get away
But to show you the magic of your touch
Through the sound of my voice, every time the sun comes up

Oh, the pain I feel to write better stories
Along with Mr. D, trudging along a bed of lilies,
Longing for one orchid, the one with the long stem
Looking into the horizon, I am now standing at the hem

Revolution over Yonder.

2009-07-13T23:18:00.005+05:30

I aint got no gun.. I aint got no bombs..
just a head with hair all tangled and no comb..
Come hither ye mad punkette..
Let's paint that purple and pink with a dash of violet.

You get the scissors I ask for..?
Cut them strings, I'd like to stretch more..
When I walk beside you, I am the lesser man
I care not a dime nor a penny, not till the shit hits the fan.

the tunes are lulling me to a smooth awakening.
Some would call rabid dreaming..
when i tried to understand,
they just open up their hands...

They want me to dance..
They want me to prance..
They say it's folklore..
could it be red-tape and not much more.?

I'm an arm-chair philosopher
I aint got no heart(?)
I'm a poet.
I don't have a poem..

Come on in, Here's my boat
Im sure it'll float
just don't make a hole..
I don't fancy a cold.

Tick tock tick tock

2009-07-05T18:57:00.002+05:30

Tick tock tick tock
Circa 2000
One me, lonely, alone, all at the same time

One mudi, one psycho, one friend, all at the same time
One prasad, one santa claus, one brother, one philosopher, all at the same time
One kadri, one waste, one retard, one companion, all at the same time
One zan, one bum, one confidante, one roomie, one swing, one palio, all at the same time
One raul, one pal, one ol’ timer, many battle scars, all at the same time
One bunch of no gooders, all stoned, all drunk, merry men, pretty women, all friends, all good timers, all at the same time

Tick tock tick tock
Circa 2009
One me, lonely, alone, all at the same time

Rock-a-bye, My Baby Blue..

2009-06-13T19:36:00.008+05:30

I see a field which was once a strawberry field..
I note a river-bank that was once flowing laughter..
I am here and for once I wish I wasn't.
Fancy suits are preludes to the beggar within.

The Sun is bright and the rain is pouring,
I try to smile through it all.
Remnants of a time not far gone.
Picture perfect and a contrast to be proud of.

Not one bit to be forgotten or not noticed.
It sparkles with magic like our bed-time tales.
I can hear the hum of music..
straining itself against the fabric of time.

Prickly eyes inturn cause them to cease
'A Mirage'.. I sigh.
The features have been replaced by laugh lines and crows feet
Reminders of a time before time.

"We were here" - says the engraving on the ruin
Dust has settled but the font is clear.
Maybe there is hope for us..
It hasn't stopped raining nor has it stopped shining.

I dont need anything more now.
I just want what I had.
'needs' and 'wants'; my two biggest enemies.
my two biggest saviours.

I see the tracks of my merry-mad gypsy troupe;
We promised we'd cross to trade war-stories.
We promised we'd live it to the brim and then over-flow.
Not far to go..

It's time to keep walking;
I should make as much distance as I can...
as long as the sun is shining and the rain is pouring..
For my rainbow smiles down on me.
---Fin---

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams...
----- W.B. Yeats.

Not so random musings..?

2009-06-10T22:10:00.002+05:30

The CEO of the company I work in maintains a blog on the company intranet and the best part of it being, he doesn fill it with mumbo-jumbo; rather a concept/idea/musing that 'hits' him once a week (the frequency amazes me!) which he incorporates with life and business to make a valid point.

Normally, this kind of behaviour would draw guffaws from my end and snorting of the disdainful kind as I would mutter how snotty and pompous certain people upon reaching a level can get (despite the fact that the're reaching this level gives 'em all the right to). But not this time, well, there were the usual initial rumblings but it hasnt exploded and it's been 3 months since i've been following it. Very surprised.

The appearance of being snobbish and presumptious or a 'prick' is a feeling I'm quite acquainted with ..why? simply coz I AM one. I can just imagine the number of people who may have gagged on hearing my wise-cracks, my msgs.. my co-authored blog, even! I dont blame them one bit and sometimes I take sadistic pleasure out of it as well; I wonder if this was the reason why i had very few friends.

So, this got me thinking.. am I destined for greatness..? I mean I've got the attitude down pat. All I need is now to make it big; A life-long experience in being a top-notch manage - I've gotten almost all my work done by others without anybody revolting..too often; if that isn't people management or delegation. I don't know what is; I have the self-centred air smothering everyone around me; I have very expensive likes...

Rain down the confetti, roll out the benz.. here I come..!

* ....... *

hmm... I wish I was a best-selling writer instead.

Bleh!

Sweet Champagne and Humble Pies..

2009-05-24T23:58:00.003+05:30

Today...

was the culmination of 2 major sporting events. One could not have come soon enough and the other came far too quickly even if it ended favourably.

I will NOT miss the IPL - It was alright, but give me Test Cricket anyday (unless the're playing on a spineless Batting Track where even the legendary Courtney Walsh could have scored a century).

I will DEFINITELY miss the BPL though. And even though my Club of close to 15 yrs won the Title; another 'heart-string puller' reached a new low - by getting relegated a division. I will shed a tear and more, likely in the confines of my own company.

As the lap of honours were taken some with tears of joy and others with tears of despair; It reminds me of how often Football resembles real life. One man's gain is always another man's loss and vice-versa - Not being philosophical, far from it. More along the lines of retrospection.

I wonder how many people may have gained or lost thanks to I and vice-versa.

tit for tat ..anyone?

Make Love to my Ears, to my soul.. to my being.

2009-04-29T22:19:00.005+05:30

In a little while...
You'll be dancing that dance with me in your sight.
In a little while...
We'll be watching the rain on a warm night.

My Girl, My Girl , My Girl..
Watch out for that puddle, dont step unknowingly;
Jump rather, like a child full up on glee.
Let's leave the lights on.. The Dark tends to scare me..

Hey Now.. Hey Now..
Do you feel the love in all that is holy
I got my jammies, lets go grab a guacamole..
Elvis is playing and the world’s a-rocking..
You got the pink boa, time to get those feet tapping.

I ain’t got no reason.. hell! Where’s the rhythm..
Let’s just scream and shout and twist for fun
There’s too much pain all aroun’..
Shut it all out and sway to the trambone…

Ideally, We would conclude for the moment with an orgasm to a killer guitar riff coupled with a trumpet solo a la Miles Davis.. aaah the beauty of all that is music.

POP goes the champagne..!

2009-04-14T02:13:00.001+05:30

Happy Birthday Twin..!!

Yes, that's all. Age is immaterial.

Flight plan

2009-03-16T03:10:00.011+05:30

A girl, she lit a fire.
In, a pot first and then his heart.
A thought, known and yet not in his mind.
Awakened it did, to your clear almond shaped eyes,
When they blinked with a smile, your SMILE.
Ah! Now, the magic had begun.
One moment, he's looking at you.
The next, you went to sleep.
Oh, what a beautiful moment that was.
Is. Will be.

An artist not, but a painter of art,
To paint a picture as beautiful as you.
In the candle glow, only your color glows.

When broken words became a meaning.
When the world showed some spirit.
When sound became music.
When they both wandered, first in talk and then in eyes.
When the dawn echoed the long night,
A night, which did not want to know the day.
When stars woke the dark night.
Only to see a few moments of twinkling eyes.
A sin beyond hell.
Again.

He carries his destiny in his eyes.
Not to know where the tomorrow lies.
Or what the yesterday has lead into.
Today’s the light, the shining one.
Silent whispers light it.
Sleepy yawns turning into laughter, brightens it.
But one had to fly away,
So did the other.
A sea in between, all to swim,
For her. For life. For them.

Carnival of melodic decay, decorum and diatribe..

2009-03-10T15:45:00.002+05:30

sitting on the couch and staring at the screen.
manic monstrosities bounce off the wall within the telly
the walls are plain and depict the carcass within
emptiness all around like vaccum suffocating the raging silence

Here's my crown of scars,
make it prick
make it count
run the blood, let it flow within

The pressure is intense. a tight fist to the cranium.
scream with me you deaf bastards, scream away the urge
cringing toes rake like a snake on cold glass.
Jump around. Jump around till you heart is in your hand and your eyes are heaven sent

I care not a dime but for the rage
fuck the machine
fuck the matter
fuck this .

Catatonic body houses the spasmotic mind
darting eyes hold no wonder but the beats of the empty soul
arched fingers like nimble robin hood's bow..
Scars for the world to see and invisible for the world to feel

Give me the music
Give me the power
Give me the feel
Take it all away...

Home Sweet Home.

2009-03-09T19:28:00.002+05:30

I'm home...

Family, roads, walls, corners, memories of a time centuries ago...
My bed once upon a time, my book shelf, my couch, my 'couch potato' blanket ...once upon a time. These walls, this house, home for 8 yrs. =) and now, I'm back...

I wonder what constitutes a home.. Where do I belong. Where do I come from.

Is being born there enough to constitute it as home..?
Is it where I currently stay ? Does it stop when I leave..?

I have a hundred places I could call home for they held and still do hold that meaning to me. Funny. I left a place with a thousand memories that I call home but the place I enter is home as well, I mean, I DID spend 17 yrs here in this land.

Would 'it' constitute any place where I have my mates, my love, my heart, my mind.. or does 'it' have to be the place which holds my body. I guess not, but I couldn't discount either, after all this is my place too.

I miss them all. I miss the colors. I miss the noise and I could go on forever, but like one of them mentioned, you could just miss a lazy afternoon sitting in the balcony staring into oblivion and he was, nay is right. I miss it all but I shall not 'sigh' and not just because of a very strong sibling law that has been passed of which I have already used my one digression. I shall smile instead.

=)

I am here, in this home hoping to create the path for a new home somewhere else with someone else, someone special. After all that is the ultimate dream of everyone now isn't it..? Ha! I could also include the jet settting lifestyle and the wine sipping festivals or the cohort of luxury cars not to mention the glitz and the glamour but it does come down to that now, don't it. A home.

I had this thought as I sat in the airport and I pushed it to the darkest recess of my mind and it stayed there till quite recently when I called a loved one and then received a call by a set of loved ones.

Ah! There is no point to this, I suppose a lot of muddled thoughts and I had to get this one out. Sue, This is also a musing of the muddled kind. See, how muddled it is. :)

hmmmm.... bleh..!

nine

2009-02-28T00:08:00.002+05:30

9 years of the decade.

9 lives of the cat.

9 lives of the sue, 4 lost.

9 years of blood and bond

9 friends.

9 joints.

9 minutes of the day.

9 hours of the day of laughter.

9 minutes walk to the hostel, from college

9 kms to Pecos, from home.

9 to 9 in and around the jungle.

9 to 9 in and around with the jingle in Bangalore.

9 is (1+2) * 3.

9 is (1*3) * 3.

9 is (3*1) * 3.

9 is (4-1) * 3.

9 is (2+1) * 3.

9 is (3) * 3.

9 is the 9 years of the decade.

* idum: crack the last para! :)

Black Coffee and Red Wine...

2009-02-21T12:22:00.003+05:30

Fear not, my lil bee..
if the flowers are late to bloom this year.
Fear not, my spring blossom..
if spring is a little delayed this time 'round.

It might be that much bit colder,
but the thoughts are warm as ember;
the future is still ours to make,
nothing else will matter as we have our cake.

We've searched high, We've searched low;
I searched in between, you searched around;
You looked for an inspiration, I looked for a muse.
Yes, We looked below and We looked above.

A word, a saying, a phrase, I pondered.
something that will stand the test of time,
one that we could reflect back and smile in wonder.
The 'piece de resistance' of my life.

A while it has been for the snow to thaw,
morning suns have come and evening suns have gone
to realize the 'piece de resistance' is but us
it took it's time but the mist is clear and autumn has set.

Clouds in the coffee and loopy butterfly swirls
Smoky wine filled with sneaky pecks
paper balls at unsuspecting head bangers
starry skies and a distinct voice over

Ah! we will have the valleys and we will have the hills
I dont mind either as long as I have you.
This is not mush nor is it sappy.
This is THAT very blue berry cheese cake.

So twirl that twirl and flounce with a skip
Smile that flashing smile with a hint of mystery.
The path is slippery but our balance is good
I will see you beyond the lake with tiny rose buds

forever and ever...

"I'll do my dreaming with my eyes wide open, and I'll do my looking back with my eyes closed"
- Arata, Tony.

Addictions from the Loony Bin...

2009-02-14T17:40:00.010+05:30

Addiction:
Wikipedia says the aforementioned term is used in many contexts to describe an obsession, compulsion or excessive physical or psychological dependence.

The papers are all over this 'disease' (if i may term it so) on the latest addictions, their cures and the highs with the lows not to mention the inherent damage to our already damaged society.

This got me wondering on what my various addictions are and here due to immense boredom I list them out...

I am addicted to music
(No, I don't have any talent; a ear for music is all i can boast of)

I am addicted to food
(Good Food I might add, can be quite finicky about this)

I am addicted to pornography
(Yes, not afraid to admit this; I love good innovative erotica - keeps the mind fresh and young; also nothing beats a boring lazy afternoon than good porn)

I am addicted to the Telly
(Man's greatest invention. period. I can watch just about anything. Ask Sue, much to his great annoyance)

I am addicted to reading
(I'll read anything from scribbles on the back-ends of bus seats to doodles to books of almost any kind, restaurant menus, tv guides, obscurely old and decaying newspapers everything bar stuff that came in school text books - ironic).

I am addicted to checking my emails every 5 minutes.
(For the sheer excitement of getting a long mail. However, technology just plain scares me. I hope my life partner is more technologically competent and brave. I'm going to need her to be). :)

I am addicted to sappy soap operas - *Cripes, I'm a woman!*
(This however does not include the ridiculous kind that come on zee, sony or star plus in any way i might add).

Addiction is Football.
(even if it's watching a bunch of kids play in a narrow alley).

I am addicted to doodling, dawdling and rambling.
(a fascination of the holy trinity, I hope to carry all the way to my grave).

I am addicted to nonsense.
(More often than not this makes more sense to me than everything else).

I am addicted to sloth.
(FAVOURITE activity..!!)

I am addicted to being paranoid.
(does this qualify as an addiction or am i just plain 'mental'). *hmmm*

I am also addicted to this certain rainbow that fills up the sky with oh so pretty colors. This is one addiction i shall fight hard to keep not that i think it'll require much.

All in all, I love my addictions and a junkie is what I am. Thank the mighty Lord for that.

Crazy Genetics.

2009-02-09T15:17:00.007+05:30

I found a sibling through a brother;
this brother shared my blood more now than before..
We tipped our mugs, my rainbow and I.
The crazy two not far behind..

Whose parents are to blame, we know not.
luckily we didn't have to wait for the Kumbh Mela;
Just a lazy tub o' lard and a home away from home,
What started with nervous titter, took off to boisterous fantasies

G-Strings, pink butterfly wings;
A tall stainless pole and a sparkling corset
Tiny teeth, more creepy than friendly pats
Some got naked, some built a reputation.

We wondered, we pondered;
We spoke without speaking;
Love was noticed, bonds were made
mugs were passed all around..

Now we all set forth on our trail,
a lumpy heart and a heavy throat;
I know we'll meet again, sooner than later
for crazy people tend to revolve always and ever.

This comes from an evening spent a while back but the memory of that day remains as fresh and wonderous as hot oven-baked scones..

Till we meet again...

2009-01-25T12:37:00.003+05:30

Last Night, I bade Goodbye to a friend, a close friend.

I shall remember the last few moments, sitting in the backseat of our car parked in front of hers, after one last trip together to a place I had called home for close to 7 yrs. We had laughed, we had eaten, we had tipped our mugs and we had avoided the fateful subject.

Ironic how the last song we heard together (for now) would be 'American Pie' by Don McLean; As we held hands for reassurance and sang along, I could not help but reminisce the time spent together.. the highs, the lows and the valleys.

As the song faded and we hugged, passing an unspoken word for the pleasure, gratitude and joy of moments, emotions.. a life shared together came the haunting tune of 'Save Tonight'....

Good bye 'My Anchor', I'll see you soon....

Tribute - to the one who taught me my first cuss word and shaped my heart.

2009-01-20T17:10:00.009+05:30

mama, gimme one last kiss tonight,
your baby boy is growing up, dead right..
Hey mama, come dance one dance with me,
hold me tight and lets twirl like it was meant to be..

mama, remember those nights of hot cocoa,
ha ha's with sniffles and food fights galore,
Hey mama, smile that smile and light that glint,
you lit the fire and you replaced the flint...

I went away, to search for my light..
I found anchors and myself, up for a fight,
I found a unicorn, to lose it and not want it any more
I found an angel who, is precious and is my rainbow..

Ma, you warned me of the bad and the ugly,
but you forgot the devils within, surely..
I found my mud throwers, and i got dirty, what luck.
they slung, and i slung and we laughed in the muck.

I may not knock as much, I may not dial so much
We may not complete ones thoughts as such.
but we share the same fire albeit for different races,
Just smile and wave ma, i'll take care of the bases..

To the giant who danced with the devil in blue shorts and lives to tell the tale with a smile...
... so far :)

Much love.

Me, me, me ... and I

2009-01-17T21:07:00.003+05:30

I walk around this enclosure I call Home and all I can think of is myself; my missing rainbow, my directionless career, my third-party vendor status, my lack of understanding of all things supposedly important, my inability to be understood by others rather those I call family. Surprisingly or rather not, I am obsessed with myself.

I wonder how selfish I am.

I wonder if this is normal. I wonder if I even care to put it up on a public post that can be viewed by people I may or not care about, as I lay bare my insides.

The realist in me.. however small, wants to put his head down and get 'responsible' in life, for once;however, mundane that may be. And at the same time, the idealist in me wants to continue this life of meandering as I explore people, places and experiences.

Who do I listen to?
the dying idealist or the strengthening adult..

Do I have a choice?
Each one provides me with something. Each one takes away something that I am.

What do I want; What do I not need.

How selfish is love?
If I love the person and want her to be with me, will I love her enough to let her go her way when she has to? I like to think I would, is that love or is it just me consoling myself.

How selfish are emotions?
Every one of them revolves around me and me alone.

Some say, 'selfish' is being obsessed with oneself irrespective of others.

I wonder how selfish I am and if i give two hoots whatever the answer may be.

Note: This is an old post/thought that failed to make it to the blog, for reasons unknown. I have moved on from this state though and I now wander with a smile as goofy as one on morphine...

Rant on your parade..

2009-01-16T15:02:00.000+05:30

I feel like a rant ..coming.

Very soon..

Blues of a different shade...

2009-01-11T16:10:00.011+05:30

Wind ruffling my hair and in my face,
Soft smooth music flits onto my ears
Doesn't take much as my mind wanders,
Thoughts as flimsy as silky lace,

The sun peeks out,
a tongue in the expanse of it's mouth.
It's breezy, like a caressing whisper,
perfect for a hand in hand canter..

Half closed eyes, dim the lights but take in the sights.
hands by my side, empty and morose; solitary kites..
the nerves are numbed and not an intoxicant around,
lolling along like a loose bolt on shaky ground..

I wonder where we're going, unsure and suddenly uncaring
I did not want this to stop, like many other things in my being
Alas, the fat lady did sing and down came the house of cards
Am I as selfish as one can be or is it just a matter of lonesome hearts..

I wonder how important a name is
Some say we can work around this
Others say, 'what's in a name?'
Apparently, a whole shit lot that can maim.

I miss my rainbow with colors so bright and different hue..
There's so much color outside, yet all i see are shades of grey
I shiver, not from the cold but from the absence of the warmth
The memories I conjure in a bid to keep me warm and poised.

Distance, the eternal enemy...
Should we fight and hold on or give up and let go..
Funny how Love tends to be cruel and heartless..
Let's sing, dance and be the plastic bag on a windy day...

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

2008-12-30T17:18:00.003+05:30

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...

2008-12-24T22:05:00.003+05:30

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...

2008-12-24T21:52:00.002+05:30

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

2008-12-19T00:28:00.001+05:30

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

2008-11-25T23:41:00.006+05:30

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

2008-11-16T18:59:00.006+05:30

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!

2008-11-05T00:42:00.002+05:30

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...

2008-10-09T23:32:00.009+05:30

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...

2008-10-08T12:01:00.011+05:30

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

2008-09-04T19:42:00.005+05:30

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

2008-07-25T00:23:00.004+05:30

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

2008-05-05T13:25:00.003+05:30

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..

2008-05-04T22:14:00.003+05:30

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

2008-03-25T21:43:00.004+05:30

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..

2008-03-16T13:32:00.005+05:30

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!”

2008-02-18T11:08:00.005+05:30

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!”

The Chai Wallah...

2007-12-13T23:12:00.000+05:30

It's another cold and beautiful night of bliss;
The chai wallah warms his hands with bated breath.
The time is upon him in this little world of his,
'tis time to share a laugh and spread a little warmth.

He heats his lil cuppa, fiddles with his pois...
The band of travellers should be upon him not long away,
A haunting tune he whistles of memories galore..
Ever searching the horizon for the sign to share.

No sooner said, he hears the jingle and the rattle,
Laughter of a joke told often, Tears of a story told less...
and he smiles; a smile that knows, a smile that feels,
They are here; some known, most unknown.

Acknowledgements arise, great wonders galore...
The time is now, to preform his lil ditty;
a strong shoulder to bear the brunt,
fingers nimble for the trick without the treat.

Throats are whetted, hearts are warmed,
Memories are hushed, Dreams are bright, Fears are swept...
This is the tale, this is the poem, this is the legend...
A stop-gap hero he is, a part-time lover he is.

He likens himself to an oasis dreaming of the beach,
Like a rock he is there, come God's chariot;
like a sponge he is there, to seep the Angel's tears;
Like a broom he sways, for the Devils tricks;

Soon the time has come,
the ditty has to end, Promises are etched;
Vows are made, Bonds are broken;
And the travellers head for the end of the rainbow;

The chai wallah cleans his cups;
The chai wallah polishes his pois;
The chai wallah hums his tune;
The chai wallah smiles that smile;

For the smile says it all,
The smile that knows, The smile that feels...

~Arrivederci

Twilight Meanderings

2007-11-23T21:23:00.000+05:30

Keeping up the trend of not very thought-provoking works; Here comes another simple monologue striving to be a dialogue, much like many things in my life...

Hey God, Can I tell you all my worries and all my chinks?
Will you lend me o' ear, so I can tell you my tale or should I save it for the shrinks...
Hey God, Do you really pull all the strings?
Or are we just victims of our very own designs...

An Obsession that caught everyone’s fancy;
Far too much traffic in the heart, way too much pollution in the streams...
Pull on the covers, dull the senses, set your mind free;
My body is my canvas; let me paint it with the colors of my life...

Hey God! Do you feel Love and Despair?
Lost love and young adventure...
Hey God! Were you ever one of us?
Just a bum in search of his morning bus...

They slept through the fire I started,
But it is I who burned and burn alone I shall...
He smiled in a distant apparition and there she stood,
Afraid to reach out for we might find what we never lost...

Hey God! Was it ever hard for you to let go and cry unabashed?
Not a tear for your fear, nor a lump for your wants...
Hey God! Has Peace ever eluded you?
Under the bridge, over the boulder yet not a single glimpse...

The Unicorn of my life prances yonder,
I don't have a bait nor do I have a saddle...
A wound we all cradle deep within,
A balm we all repel, for pain is what we hold dear....

Hey God! Why’d you have to shut your eyes?
The world got just that bit colder...
Hey God! Please don't wait up;
I don't think anyone's comin' home tonight...

The Music has stopped and spring has taken a miss,
Questions arise, Answers leave for vacations...
winter’s here but Santa isn't,
summer has arrived with a frozen sun and an icy heart...

Hey God! Have you ever been found?
Shied away from the promos but in line for the red carpet...
Hey God! How do you deal with being taken for granted?
Do you just smile or do you take a hike for sense to prevail...

A hope though is what plucks the strings,
Twisting and swaying like a nimble daisy on a dancing day...
Blinking away the cobwebs and loosen the dead weights,
For what lies around the corner makes us walk the slush....

Hey God! Do you love Dylan and the Stones?
Not long after, the heavens opened; I think that was a yes....

A cloud of black smoke

2007-11-23T18:19:00.000+05:30

This was written on somebody's request. I tried as best as i could to identify with a situation like this...and somewhere i realised that all of us should try and understand the purpose of mass destruction, and make an attempt to understand it..god knows why..! but it exists, so..

A cloud of black smoke,
Not a word, he spoke.
He felt the heat, but it was going to be over.
Looked at his little girl, shed a tear, and held her fingers.
She knew not, what transpired between her eyes and his smile.
He promised to look after her once he reached the beyond.

The mother wept an unheard cry,
Her silence could cut through the sky.
She held her man to her chest, hoping he could hear her heart beat.
He had left her to travel in peace, a word which had eluded their lives.
The little girl held her one legged doll, closer still,
And looked around the flames, and thought that hell was here after all.

The sight that I saw was not how it looked yesterday.
The swings in the park were now just debris, burning away.
Fathers wept and mothers cried as the children looked in daze,
Some lying near the dead, wondering why they’re asleep.
Birds of wing had lost their feathers, as they flew past the black sky.
Puddles of rain water overflowed with blood so red, and thicker than the plight.

The hop scotch lines were erased with gun powder,
As little sally figured, when she tried reviving them.
What had been my land is now sold to the devil.
I am the devil, and my horns have pierced the world into two, the bad and the ugly.
Hope is a mere word, as I mock it another day.
But some of us keep it alive, within our soul, as I smile,
When the child found her doll’s second leg.

When you..

2007-11-21T00:01:00.000+05:30

Every once a while comes a time, where words mean nothing but the thought makes sense..i have no idea as to how this is relevant here..but its here now..! When you.. is a figment of somebody's imagination! He chose to share his thoughts with me in return for complete anonymity!

When I see you, my heart beats into a smile.
When I touch you, my senses live for a while.
When you laugh, a million stars paint the sky.
When you smile, the sky’s a new blue.

When I smell you, the gardens in the world bloom.
When you cry, the morning is without the dew.
When you sing, angels dance.
When you talk, spring has a chance.

When you walk with me, time is still.
When you talk to me, the words heal.
When I look into your eyes, you shy away.
When you shy away, a child is born.

When you hold my hand, the night is a shooting star.
When you rest your chin on my shoulder, your eyes whisper.
When you go away, it only rains.
When you come another day, the clouds make way for sunshine.

When you pray, every bird is free to fly.
When you don’t talk, your heart speaks.
When you’re angry, no plant has a flower.
When you’re happy, I am complete.

Along roads of cause

2007-11-07T10:36:00.000+05:30

there's always a time in life when you think the journey's been cut short because of that "one" thing that goes wrong..but what we dont realize is that it can be made right by only one smile..and that is ours. people often forget to smile, not knowing that its the only thing that will get us where we wish to go.

...and some more people need to know : when you have two voices telling you what to do, listen to the voice that favours today and not the wicked tomorrow. Tomorrow can be built.Today is already ready..think about it!!!!!!!

Along roads of cause,
By the streets of happiness,
Stood a man, waiting to take a walk.
The early bird, he was not.
Through the laughs and the tears,
He made much of what he had.

Picked a pebble, threw it up,
Saw its fall; he knew his life was that.
All to lose and some more to gain.
The flight was a desire, but none to fling him up.
But he needs to take the walk, and the all important run.
His legs are jittery, but his head is firm through the air.

Met the loner, the lonely and the fool hardy.
Not one was like him, he thought.
Yet they reflected his shadow in their eyes.
He knew its all in the game,
Play it and then there’s a winner with a name.
It wasn’t what he wanted to be,
A player was all he was; and the game was the love.

At every step he fell, some his own and some undone.
The hand he saw, from the sky, made him smile and walk a while.
Magicians don’t live he thought, they just believe they can.
His answers had no questions, yet he smiled at the sunset everyday.
Dancing under the stars for joyous unions were aplenty,
Time had been kind to him, he knew, as he waited to take the leap into life.

Some women came, but she stayed.
He found what he wasn’t searching, yet it was all he longed.
Now he turns back, to sight the winding roads of yesterday,
The thorny paths, the bed of lilies, and the empty sky.
They were his soul, his only fish bowl.
The sunset had arrived again, only now he knew all the colors.
The violet sky, with the blue, around the ball, had all the applause.
Holding her hand he walked to the horizon,
As only one pair of footprints followed him to the end.

Kiss the Sky --- a tribute to something known and yet unknown.

2007-10-23T22:51:00.000+05:30

Seems like time for another blast from the past. This one is one of the very early pieces, when I was still getting to appreciate life. For those that are in the dark, this is my very own tribute to that Green Haired Vixen who has got many a person snared within her heavenly embrace and showed us what it was to kiss the sky, not just once but over and over again till we finally got some Tongue. She tooks us places far and near wherein I made me a lot of friends, some that have moved on and others that have made a very special place for themselves within my heart.... It's a shame how some of the best things in life, receive that extra bit of bad press. Here's a bit to see it just for what it is and may it help others open doors that one did not know existed. cheers!

Under the raging water,
above the maniacal laughter.
There floats a mind,
nothing like its kind.

Was it a bird, was it a plane?
It couldn't be Superman, could it?
He stroked his mane,
Mindful of every color it lit.

Emotions like never before,
were all that came to the fore.
Ha Ha Ha and then a tear fell.
Soft and Loud, fervent still yet. Pray tell!!

What was this heavenly smell,
that made him long for caramel.
The color of love n' peace unafraid of which cat he had to bell...
Which by the way was just swell!!

Thoughts that bewildered him
A zillion at a whim.
They wouldn’t stop
Made his brain go boop bap dibbitty dabitty POP!!

He loved it, loved the free air, like a lovely dame
Nothing could bind him, it was his, till Kingdom came.

He looked around and all he saw was what life could be
And he vowed to never let anything tell him what to be.

One Life, One Love, One End...

2007-10-18T22:35:00.000+05:30

Man does it against the world, does it against other beings, does it to the spirits, to the inanimate and the animate...

North America did it against South America. High strung Germans did it against the Jews. The majority Hindus do against the minority Muslims what the majority Muslims do against the minority Hindus...

The Russians did it, the Chinese continue to do it; so does Africa to itself, Europe and the 'holy' Middle East do it against the imaginary devils..

The Whites do it against the Whites, the Blacks to the Blacks and the Browns to the Browns...

This is not a secret nor is it open. I wish we had LOVE rather than the love for HATE...

Jackie and the paintbrush....

2007-09-12T21:32:00.000+05:30

Poor little Jackie; as his mum would call her first born,
Wasn't the sharpest or the one with a fancy crown.
He liked his roast beef and a mug o' barley,
Didn't have too many friends but he did love his dog, Barney.

Most saw through him , others looked down at him;
It never was his criteria; all he wanted was that rainbow full to the brim.
An orchestra played within, the wind the strings the entire gamut.
He danced and he hummed and he swayed to the gentle beats of the still night.

The veins throb for attention, the pupils dilate for love,
Important they were not; for Jack was a simple child and a simpler soul.
Fishing came, lunches went; watching puddles while cycle rides passed by.
Jack loved his life and all the little things that made it fly.

Along came a day when lepers took to their holes and fishes to the bait;
Oblivious was he, for he had a rhyme; a rhyme of great splendour and taste.
Dreaming of an unknown beginning and fearing the knowing end..
He took a left when he should have maybe taken a right only to come across a bend.

Here he found ecstacy that showed him what color was all about,
but as is so often the case, the good withers away and the great dies in an instant.
Here he was on his bed; a bone without a dog, a thorn without a rose...
Happy endings they say are interims to unfinished stories....

P.S. I'm glad Lil Jackie found what he had to find even if it brought despair to some extent later on, I just hope we all do as well before we sip nectar atop little marshmallow puffs.... :)

Also, I'm sorry if this dragged on... couldn't help it... :P

Rodeo Clown

2007-09-09T14:24:00.000+05:30

There really is no intro and not wanting to ramble on as I'm so guilty of, so very often. Its just a little story that took birth on a cold lonely bus-ride...So here goes...

The poet, he looked around;
a little wary a little too profound.
The clouds were gathering but the birds still sang;
The lake glistened beyond the hills and a pint he drank..

Many a hour-glass back, there was this bird...
A bird of beaut and flames of wonder;
I remember the way it soared and I pondered...
How did it matter where it was going; or coming for that matter.

As i grow the lesser i know,
Will you set my dreams free or follow them down the hole..
a hundred mothers and a million muses
thats just me dreaming impossible dreams...

A rodeo clown is I; with my very own Secret garden..
God smiled in an apparition and there stood a flower, lingering..
twisting and swaying like a nimble daisy in a blust.
Ha Ha that can't be true; its just me going bust...

Who sowed those seeds; those that harvest in my soul..
Was it you ma? or was it ziggy G maybe it was there for her to cajole;
Hold me close and remind me how it was to love,
how it was to trust and a smile so true...

Time has passed and things have changed, though some stay the same..
He knew it was his call, his very own and none to share or blame..
The sun took a peek and down came the silence...
Slip sliding away; he beckoned for sunshine,

He finally had what he sought, maybe forever maybe for a wee bitty...
It was his and nothing could take it away, not even he...

Sagittarian Delight...

2007-08-28T20:15:00.000+05:30

Hey babe, it's that time of the year again,
when lilies bloom and hope is our bane..
I hum our tune just to see you swoon,
the bells chime and i'm a loopy loon...

Faces i see and yet a face i see,
do i have a case or is it another lost race to me..
A king nothing with a thorny crown,
silence is thy shadow within which i shall drown..

Why couldn't we enjoy the rain without the fear of getting wet,
must there be a reason, a rhyme and the holy set..
Can we have this one dance,
I couldn't love the music any much more....

P.S. i suppose it's nothing great or too thought provoking but it says all that I have to say and feel...

scream yells the emotion

2007-08-20T17:16:00.000+05:30

Kimi Raikkonen once said that he should've been born in the 70's when it was all about the driver and raw racing.he thinks that he's born in the wrong era..Right now i feel the same but the only difference is that i do not know what other era i could've belonged to.....

The scream yells the emotion I feel.
And the song is out of place in this world.
Larger than life’s own cruelties,
It tries to break the mould of injustice.

But strangled is its voice, as it tries once more.
And now it has stopped to attempt the truth.
As much as the rhythm plays in me,
It can never break the circle of boundaries.

The purest form of existence, alas, crumbled down.
Now I cry and complain, only coz I’m a piece of the earth.
I know not beyond what I see and feel.
Its not good enough, they say as I heal myself.

The attempt is vain, and so are the rules.
Neither does my soul want to let go of you,
Nor does the heart strike a wrong note now.
It’s a battle I will fight all over again until time ceases to stop.

Sometimes life tickles me and then I realize the darn Nitrous Oxide's leaking again....

2007-07-13T22:56:00.000+05:30

Not wanting to get too political, a thought crept in my pea and got me thinking or rather pondering......

This brilliant hatred or disgust (again, excuse the non-inclination towards political correctness) that we or rather most people have against the 'bullying' Americans with their thoughts and actions towards the rest of the 'oh-not-so-strong' nations a little mis-conceived?
Could it be more of the natural human tendency of man/woman to hate the top dog or bitch as the case may be?

So America struts her stuff around, tells people what to do and what not quite similar to that over-bearing aunt you can't see the back enough of... So you 'hate' her(America), form discussions, ridicule her and the derogation continues.. till you're either blue in the face or you have run out of expletives... Fair enough. In the same breath, what exactly is it that bothers us so much? Israel did the same with Palestine, China has done it with Tibet (I don't see anything happening on that front), Soviet Union had done it, Bosses do it to their assistants, Bullies in School Grounds do it, Elder siblings do it...well, you get the picture. Could it be what we hate is Power or rather the lack of it?

I mean, imagine a hypothetical situation where, India got its act together and became the Alpha Male in this world, imagine the kind of power that USA enjoys in our hands, can you imagine the havoc?!?! Hell, imagine it in the hands of North Korea or Iran .. or one of our famed Computer Lecturers from College, can you imagine the chaos?!? Scary propositions I agree, so where am I heading here, you may ask; Could it be that the hatred is instead more indirectly directed towards humans..us? After all we are from the same seed, we are blooming mad and we LOVE power!!

The thought that really scares me now is that, the problems are not going to end with America's demise or the demise of Taliban, or that of Institutionalized Education Systems rather with the demise of Man and that scares me for the simple fact that the last time I checked in the mirror, I was one of the hominoid species...hmmm... we ARE in trouble aren't we..

~cheerio~ (a lil frightened)

By a String...

2007-06-04T23:21:00.000+05:30

Its time to hold on and lift the jar,
Now you know who you and I are.
Run down a stream of hope,
I’m held by a string, not a rope.

My love is all dried,
Ever since I lost my bride.
This time you’re hurt, but I need to heal.
It’s all wise, but I need the moment to feel.

Slower still, I desire a laugh against my will.
Walk the mile as if you’re dressed to kill.
But it may need all the might and some more guile.
Now is the time to try a trick as I lie down for a while.

It just got better than the sound of flow.
Let’s rise above the water to see the night glow.
The darker the sight is, the stronger the might.
Find the bait or just wait for the great white.

Quietly, I walk through the night hiding from my shadow.
The tree has shed more than its worth of high and low.
I need a walk home and find the path to get there.
The time might be right, but someone’s got to pay the fare.

The road is busy and so are the men walking there.
It may feel like you need much more than a dare.
Run before they point a finger at you and your dope.
I’d still say that I’m held by a string, not a rope.

perfect day

2007-04-25T21:50:00.000+05:30

****all thru life we dont realize the perfect days we experience in our life..how many do we remember?simply coz our definition of perfect is really twisted.its all about having one perfect moment and savouring it for as long as u can and that makes a day perfect.****

A silent thought, a feel it brought.
Looked real, felt surreal.
I tried to reason, without explanation.
It’s very simple, yet ample.
Look no beyond today, it’s the perfect day.

The light is bright, sit back tight.
You’re not in a maze, so clear the haze.
Is the chaos inside you or about you?
Smile under the sky until a tear rolls down your eye.
Look no beyond today, it’s the perfect day.

Live it on as you can, without a plan.
Keep laughing, it’s more than living.
There’s enough to give and more to receive.
Feel the burden or just walk by the garden.
Look no beyond today, it’s the perfect day.

It’s a race you run to win, but just learn to swim.
Let’s run in pain and gain and the merry rain,
Tiptoe through the misty eyes and the silent cries.
You may not fly, so learn to erase the lie.
Look no beyond today, it’s the perfect day.

Every answer can start another question.
It’s all about being able to just simply listen.
Time will unfold the solution, there’s no other notion.
Dream through your eyes, they see more than the lies.
Look no beyond today, it’s the perfect day.

Stuff I dont get -- The million dollar sequel.....

2007-04-12T12:10:00.000+05:30

As I spend yet another 'fun-filled' day at work with my trusty stapler and Emily, the coffee machine for company( which has accepted my proposal, we're a couple now you see, aaah the joys of love).

I ponder on my life, the ups AND the downs but mostly the hazy circular fields.. we move on to the list of my pet peeves and things that confuse me (I'm not considering math here)...

* The most bizarre one... Why is it that we follow the 'Beauty and the Beast' theory in 'real' life as well??? I mean, do i have to scar myself, become a complete jackass and have the rainbow puke on me to get hitched???? Or do i just need to get me a car... By George, wait till i get one, gonna make these women really run for it then...

* How is it that funny people always die in the movies?? I find this highly disturbing being a funny man myself, touche. I mean, we bring humor even in despair and how is it that we never get the girl ( you all might be thinkin that i'm bein a sour puss coz i haven't gotten any in a while, but believe you me, that is not the case...) also we are never taken seriously.

* The need to Indian-ize everything from Big Mac to Bringing in veg. food in KFC (which is highly ridiculous considering the name of the brand..) to just about every other foreign input in the food business. I mean, isn't the whole point of going out to eat, so we can have a taste of something different than what our palates are accustomed to? Whats next.. Noodle/Chopusey Qorma?!?

* This is something that I truly fail to comprehend, and something very common in India( will wonders never cease..) the exact purpose behind men growing one solitary fingernail to gargantuan proportions, preferably the lil pinky or the thumb is something beyond my meagre mental capabilities to relate... If somebody can figure out what/why/how/when.. you know where to leave a comment :)

~cheers n cheerio...

Howdy Ma... (This is for taking the plunge)

2007-03-26T14:46:00.000+05:30

Drivin’ too fast,
Stuck in the middle.

Jumpin' the jump,
Flocking the sheep...

My world is yours,
Is that a hole in our boat?

45-inch Telly's,
2-minute Quickies....
Life is a flash,
Come and get some...

Moondance Parties,
Is God alone?

Morning sunshine,
Au voir my love...

Dream thy dream,
Jus don’t be late...

*if they ever took away our pens, Man would we be in deep shit....

Rode a storm...

2007-03-20T14:51:00.000+05:30

This is my lil tribute to "like a rolling Stone"..since i love this song and feel a very strong connection to it, i decided to pay my small tribute by writing a lil something to appreciate the song and the closeness that i feel for it..here goes..

Once you rode a storm and then went along.
You kept swayin’ until the shore was there; no long.
The search for a life of swing was far and beyon’,
But you had to get there to keep the journey goin’ on.

A loner you’re not, but you walk alone, lika journey man in a song.
Let’s just hope all this doesn’t take too long.
By the pond you sit, waiting for the circle to become round.
Be it a dark cloud or just the nights, by none were you bound.

A quick leap, a quicker dash and back on the run,
Its time to dwell on the streets, where began all the fun.
Along the roads of leaves and twigs, you trip a small fall,
It was time to wake up from the dream to see it all.

Met the fancy yesterday, today they don’t have much time.
You had bought it all once, but now is all about a dime.
As you live to stay alive, a day has sped by in an hour.
We laughed as the lake became a mere drop, don be sour.

Now you have fled away to the land of the unknown.
All you carry is a bag of thought and nothing much known.
The rhapsody of a smile is your find and only gain.
Keep it up for that’s the way you shoot the pain in this rain.

In the Dog House....

2007-03-13T10:29:00.000+05:30

As we dwelve into the musings of our oh so muddled minds, i would like to muse on man's best friend or best enemy as the plot seems to head towards.... Dogs; love them or hate them ( i can't seem to make up mind, so i'll let the jury get back to me on that) are very much the urban myth of our poised India and unfortunately for all the wrong reasons.

Now if we just focus a lil more in depth on our 'friendly' k-9's, they don't seem to be too different from another social species close to my heart--Homo sapiens (for reasons more than the unknown). They are a very social species as we are, they are territorial as much as we are (just ask the world leaders), They nurture their young as much as we like to think we do, they have their ethics (you dont see two male/female dogs going at it do you now, not that homo-sexuality is wrong :P), They defend themselves as they seem fit and most importantly they go loopy just like us.

So, this recent outburst by our VERY great leaders(i'm talking bout humans now :) ), stinks just that tiny bit of hypocricy, for again like us we have the good dogs, the largely indifferent lot (content on smelling each others behind) and the 'ugly' bunch which has resorted in some untimely deaths of our kind. The reaction of "kill 'em all" which apart from sharing a common name with a hugely succesful heavy metal album has very little logic to it. We have people killing people by the truck loads and they are given "justice" as all men/women are conceived innocent till proven guilty and without getting too much in detail, i notice the stench of hypocricy again.... Getting back to the original point, what do we do with our once best friends now worst enemies...do we castrate them..(!!!) or do we just eradicate them or do we set up Courts for 'em and present them with advocates.. surely there must be a solution....

While I ponder, i figure i shall go watch some more of Lassie and wonder if i would have received luxury beyond my meagre means if i was a pooch to Ms Hilton instead...

Destination Anywhere (with all due apologies to a certain Jon Bon Jovi)

2007-03-11T12:33:00.001+05:30

This seemed apt right now despite the fact that it came into existence much earlier, as I seem to be in a similar sorta trip... I don't really know where we're headed and in all likelihood it may not come full circle which is a shame. 'Tis time to pack our bags and catch the next bus for I don't think i'll be coming home to the furniture of my life....

Open your sight and follow the white rabbit,
A journey not as arduous as of the hobbit.
Come my sweetness; let’s reach for that star,
But first a laugh at our whiskey bar.

I lost my way; you turned your head,
They ‘clicked’, we hurt and they ‘clacked’.
We went our paths to wonders, depths and moments galore
Wasn’t much but it missed the spark as decreed by folklore.

The monsoons came, smelling of that sweet musk, Ah nostalgia!!
Washed away the old and invited promise of a new criteria.
Cocoons came and butterflies went…
Memories dwindled but the need did not relent…

The sun is now out and I notice the door’s ajar,
I look around but my crew is quite afar
Should I beckon them for one final hurrah?
Probably not, never was our mantra…

In the twilight; a hop, skip and jump away, I spot a face
A face I hold dear, one so vague reminiscent of outer space.
It’s not mine, never was to begin with,
Just another illusion like life over death.

I will walk thy road and hope to link arms with them not long from now,
but if moss were to fog our vision and deny us our final bow;
I hope v go out with a bang rather than a meek little meow.

Not the end...

2007-03-02T23:38:00.000+05:30

You paint my world with colors so bright,
Yet I think this place is not right, oh don’t fight.
I laugh as you worry about love again,
But knowing you my friend, you’ll loose some only to gain.

Let’s leave this home for a place of crystal water,
Ride a storm and row a boat or just sing a song at the alter.
The ships of time will sail always, to a river, I can’t see.
But let’s sway today; coz tomorrow might be the busy bee.

Nodding my head to agree with my folly, I look back with a smile,
How we strolled by the trees, felt the breeze as we walked a mile.
You tripped me, but I know who would not let me take the fall.
Now you need me and I’m not a hill, we have met at a high, that’s all.

The days of glory we celebrate, with a toast not for the mere,
Some left, some fell prey, as the others felt the fear.
But we keep at it with disguise, wise and the crafty lies,
For, every tomorrow is to cherish, and to wait till the moment never dies.

Unkempt hair, braided locks....

2007-02-28T00:54:00.000+05:30

Twilight has peaked as the wraps are packed,
Ready to travel with baggage to be dropped;
Empty heads and heavy souls carry crying hearts; popcorn anyone?
Await the call while dreading the voice; I’d like mine with a cone;

A zeppelin o’ lead wrote misty mountain top and a medley to adore,
Green bottoms on blue tops around loopy bananas; are we really that sore?
Wet clothes, drenched bodies out glows a warm silence
Listen carefully for the death like mist, music to thy aching eyes;

There in the bottom of a ravine, a rainbow of man’s unholiness
I search for a better me though reveling in it's murkiness;
The Trojans held their heads high only to be let down by a wooden horse
Irony, the black and the white of this play, wonder if god’s got it any worse;

If I could fall and not gasp for air, play my role and not be a farce,
Everythings free, and yet we dance to the tunes of green paper with a dead face;
Masks are the condoms today, not a deterrent but a disguise for the devil within,
A destination is earmarked, a path graveled, not for a walk or a sojourn but to tar I reckon;

Just like her I too shall be gone, A thousand questions to the shadows of the morn’
Unanswered forever, like wrinkles at 70 while the threads are sewn.

Desire...

2007-02-26T15:59:00.001+05:30

Look at the song of my time,
It’s worth at least a mighty dime.
Trying harder than a fusion sound of the uneven,
I look out from the frosty window for a new haven.

Oooh the bitter cold, roaring against the new and old.
The strokes of rays have been chiseled to flakes of snow.
Sleeping through my hibernation, I yearn for a new glow.
A Hungry soul I am, too much to eat, nothing to chew.

I lease my life everyday to a buyer unknown.
A step ahead than two behind I yearn, but fear holds my name.
I take a peek that turns into a fatal stare, much too bold.
It’s just a boon too dear to let go, a gift which is really an endless hole.

These desires have a name, but they’ve forgotten their song.
They hum a tune that has dried our lives, a sonnet that is long gone.
Licking my lips I play the bagpipes of betrayal with my merry men,
Unaware of the wrath I invite upon us; I dance alone, without a shadow.