December Sky IV

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.

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.

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.

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

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..

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..

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.

“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.

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

Chemistry

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 the baying for blood, guts and all the other gory muck that comes with it but, just a pure unadulterated dance party. Where, the music takes higher precedence than the ‘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’s just the wrong hour of the wrong day. Chemistry never goes away. It’s always there come heaven, hell or high water. I feel it. I felt it then and I think I will always feel it.

All you need is a dance party and I will dance with my eyes closed and my mouth contorted into a wide grin. Take away this pain, take away the 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.

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..

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

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.

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!

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!

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!

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.

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.

"(...)"

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

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.

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..

~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.

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.