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. =)