Today it all seemed unusually long; the way to and the way from; it felt long enough to believe we would not meet, but it did end and meet we did; for a moment short enough to make the long and the longing feel longer;
a smile, a gaze, a question, an answer, a breath, a sigh, an expression, a confession all exchanged in that one moment;
an unshed tear, a shoulder rest, a warm caress, a pat on the head, a brush of the finger tips, an eye lock, a whisper, silence all un-exchanged;
and then even the moment ended, before it should have;
The way back from you seemed longer and maybe it never will really end.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Dreamy Lost Evenings...
When did the night get done?
When did the day again begin?
Seems like only a blink,
Dreams dissolve and reality sets in.
Were the skies too high,
For the weakened wing?
Was the melody too sweet?
That the pained heart cannot sing?
A dreamy yesterday buried,
Locked and bolted to rest.
A keepsake for the lonely morrow,
When present is put to test.
Tears be the faithful companions,
For journey of many a mile,
The heart desires no laughter,
Contented with the broken smile.
When did the day again begin?
Seems like only a blink,
Dreams dissolve and reality sets in.
Were the skies too high,
For the weakened wing?
Was the melody too sweet?
That the pained heart cannot sing?
A dreamy yesterday buried,
Locked and bolted to rest.
A keepsake for the lonely morrow,
When present is put to test.
Tears be the faithful companions,
For journey of many a mile,
The heart desires no laughter,
Contented with the broken smile.
Monday, April 20, 2009
For the one in whom I find the beauty of life!
Each day I step one step further and if we begin to count I have walked for many days now. Each step takes me farther away from you and from us together. Then on a lonely peaceful night I look back and call out but we are far far away and I can’t see you and you can hear me no more.
The mountains of flour, the black and white keys, your paintings, your soft toys, your neat notebooks, weave the perfect backdrop for the play of nostalgia being performed by
memories on the stage of reminiscence.
I remember you with a smile and I remember you with a tear. I stretch out my hand in the hope that you will hug me and secure me a safe haven in your presence once again. But the mirror image reflects the real me whom you do not know and whom you had better not know.
I know you are only a call away and yet the lump in my throat prevents me from punching ten numbers. I close my eyes and do the only thing I can do. I wish one more time that you like your perfect self enjoy a perfectly blissful life full of love and happiness you so deserve.
The mountains of flour, the black and white keys, your paintings, your soft toys, your neat notebooks, weave the perfect backdrop for the play of nostalgia being performed by
memories on the stage of reminiscence.
I remember you with a smile and I remember you with a tear. I stretch out my hand in the hope that you will hug me and secure me a safe haven in your presence once again. But the mirror image reflects the real me whom you do not know and whom you had better not know.
I know you are only a call away and yet the lump in my throat prevents me from punching ten numbers. I close my eyes and do the only thing I can do. I wish one more time that you like your perfect self enjoy a perfectly blissful life full of love and happiness you so deserve.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Flashes
Flashes of joy
Flashes of truth
Flashes of impermanence
Flashes of confessions
Flashes of fear
Flashes of hopes
Flashes of tears
Flashes of strength
Flashes of inertia
Flashes of memories
Flashes of dreams
Flashes of sleep
Flashes of awakening
Flashes of attachment
Flashes of solitude
Flashes of pain
Flashes of desires
Flashes of colors
And then, all ashes of nothingness
Flashes of truth
Flashes of impermanence
Flashes of confessions
Flashes of fear
Flashes of hopes
Flashes of tears
Flashes of strength
Flashes of inertia
Flashes of memories
Flashes of dreams
Flashes of sleep
Flashes of awakening
Flashes of attachment
Flashes of solitude
Flashes of pain
Flashes of desires
Flashes of colors
And then, all ashes of nothingness
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Moods!
A friend, philosopher, guide recently gave me a thought to ponder about, he talked about monotones of blue as well as variety of colors and how both seem perfectly complete. Unknowingly I mulled over the idea and today on a spur I decided to classify my moods into colors.
My fav – The Black Coffee Blue Mood
Get up early morning and just stare at the ceiling fan like it is telling you a million stories, pouring out words and emotions creating a complete chaos within. That’s what creates the urge for the tall mug of absofab bitter black coffee. One kick and am hooked on to the disturbances that Morrison, Lessing, or Kafka superbly generate, till I slowly slip back into the comforting numbness. On impulse it is time for a guru dutt or likes flick till the acidic stomach growls for more black coffee. Caffeine pumped in and its pen and paper time or should I say lappy and keyboard time. The dark night is the best bit, unsettling questions, non convincing desires, un-healing pain, and just more bitter black coffee albeit mingled with the salts this time! Its cheers to the cracked and may I add crooked me.
Pretty Regular – The Rosy Pink Best Friend Mood
This is pretty much the outer me. Call upon friends and tease and pester them into pillow fights and mad dancing. Catch a movie, grab a grub or merely go on a shopping spree. Strengthen relationships over a cup of coffee or bury the blues in the drum beats of the disc. Pacify with a walk on the beach and then wish loads of love with bear hugs and wish loads of smiles when it is time to say good bye. Quite refreshing, it feels good while it lasts types I would say. Cheers to all the good times and the lovely friends that make up my normal world.
Scary when it is – The Loaded Red
Anger, violence and dark streaks come to the fore. The pills, the knives, and probably men are on the charts, just that the latter get dropped out as quickly as the former get embraced. Why? Men are too boring or maybe the knives and pills more fascinating, do I even need to think? It is sure shot drop dead scary, the desire and the temptation. A tussle begins between the sane and the insane and the result of the war decides whether it is cheers to the echo of insanity or yet again submission to an inevitable listless dawn.
Safely Rare – Passionate Orange
Keats, Yeats and Lawrence, come demanding attention after the dusty neglect. Poetry blossoms and my bare walls are painted with scribbling all over. This is the ultra magnetic mood, which even the bitter black coffee dare not disturb. It is time to get high with words and maybe then some sensible people do stand a chance. The grey certainly takes precedence over the black and the white and those with grey cells too over the mere plastic smiles morons. It is cheers to overflowing passion of creativity and this time in more senses than one ;-)
The Bliss of Solitude – The Calming Lavender
Why Lavender? I don’t know. Just feel it is soothing and pacifying, one color which lets me be as be, no questions asked and trust me I like it this way. So what does the lavender solitude amount to? It is my me time. I may switch off my cell and my world and be lost in myself or I may call upon a thousand and revive my connections. I may dress up and treat myself to an energetic dance performance or I may go back to the oldest cotton rags and just walk down memory road. It could be anything but one thing for sure trespassers not allowed strictly. Cheers to the essence of I, me, myself.
The Monotonous – Vanilla White
It is too monotonous and hopelessly boring to write about. Nevertheless, it is the typical work hour, day and week one labels routine. Does anyone even wanna know more?
PS: More moods and colors on a later Black day I suppose.
My fav – The Black Coffee Blue Mood
Get up early morning and just stare at the ceiling fan like it is telling you a million stories, pouring out words and emotions creating a complete chaos within. That’s what creates the urge for the tall mug of absofab bitter black coffee. One kick and am hooked on to the disturbances that Morrison, Lessing, or Kafka superbly generate, till I slowly slip back into the comforting numbness. On impulse it is time for a guru dutt or likes flick till the acidic stomach growls for more black coffee. Caffeine pumped in and its pen and paper time or should I say lappy and keyboard time. The dark night is the best bit, unsettling questions, non convincing desires, un-healing pain, and just more bitter black coffee albeit mingled with the salts this time! Its cheers to the cracked and may I add crooked me.
Pretty Regular – The Rosy Pink Best Friend Mood
This is pretty much the outer me. Call upon friends and tease and pester them into pillow fights and mad dancing. Catch a movie, grab a grub or merely go on a shopping spree. Strengthen relationships over a cup of coffee or bury the blues in the drum beats of the disc. Pacify with a walk on the beach and then wish loads of love with bear hugs and wish loads of smiles when it is time to say good bye. Quite refreshing, it feels good while it lasts types I would say. Cheers to all the good times and the lovely friends that make up my normal world.
Scary when it is – The Loaded Red
Anger, violence and dark streaks come to the fore. The pills, the knives, and probably men are on the charts, just that the latter get dropped out as quickly as the former get embraced. Why? Men are too boring or maybe the knives and pills more fascinating, do I even need to think? It is sure shot drop dead scary, the desire and the temptation. A tussle begins between the sane and the insane and the result of the war decides whether it is cheers to the echo of insanity or yet again submission to an inevitable listless dawn.
Safely Rare – Passionate Orange
Keats, Yeats and Lawrence, come demanding attention after the dusty neglect. Poetry blossoms and my bare walls are painted with scribbling all over. This is the ultra magnetic mood, which even the bitter black coffee dare not disturb. It is time to get high with words and maybe then some sensible people do stand a chance. The grey certainly takes precedence over the black and the white and those with grey cells too over the mere plastic smiles morons. It is cheers to overflowing passion of creativity and this time in more senses than one ;-)
The Bliss of Solitude – The Calming Lavender
Why Lavender? I don’t know. Just feel it is soothing and pacifying, one color which lets me be as be, no questions asked and trust me I like it this way. So what does the lavender solitude amount to? It is my me time. I may switch off my cell and my world and be lost in myself or I may call upon a thousand and revive my connections. I may dress up and treat myself to an energetic dance performance or I may go back to the oldest cotton rags and just walk down memory road. It could be anything but one thing for sure trespassers not allowed strictly. Cheers to the essence of I, me, myself.
The Monotonous – Vanilla White
It is too monotonous and hopelessly boring to write about. Nevertheless, it is the typical work hour, day and week one labels routine. Does anyone even wanna know more?
PS: More moods and colors on a later Black day I suppose.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Desires
I want to break the rules this day and take the freedom of flight.
Tell me how exactly is a day different than the night?
Am I safe walking the street only when the sun shines bright?
Or do the nighthawks feed and prey with only dimming of light?
Let me walk and never stop and see where the moonlight leads me.
Let me for once throw the garb of goodness and know how bad can bad be.
I want to jump I want to cry I want to embrace the sea and sky
For once –
Let me laugh recklessly
Let me cry ceaselessly
Let me dance endlessly
Let me dream fearlessly
Let me be lost carelessly
And then just rock back into the numbness and await another dawn
Tell me how exactly is a day different than the night?
Am I safe walking the street only when the sun shines bright?
Or do the nighthawks feed and prey with only dimming of light?
Let me walk and never stop and see where the moonlight leads me.
Let me for once throw the garb of goodness and know how bad can bad be.
I want to jump I want to cry I want to embrace the sea and sky
For once –
Let me laugh recklessly
Let me cry ceaselessly
Let me dance endlessly
Let me dream fearlessly
Let me be lost carelessly
And then just rock back into the numbness and await another dawn
Monday, March 23, 2009
That which words don't express
The afternoon saw my world crumble, every bit. All that I had held so strongly within just decided to give up on me and collapse, flowing down into a stream of unceasing tears. I wept, and I wept, and I wept even more until all feelings simply melted down into more pain that seems to have left a permanant dull ache where it hurts most. I asked myself one more time, why I let people walk out of my life like it matters none, when I know that I take nothing casually, a person who I let enter the gates of my life become the very essence of my being, yet I stand back and watch them go....or maybe I really make it impossible for them to stay, I don't really know. And worse still, why do I let them come back again when I know this re-entry is just another step closer to the exit? Maybe I know the answers but I do not want to say them aloud to myself. So I wept again with silent tears today, which did not know how to stop. I am a narcissist, I love my transperant eyes most, because they leave no traces and truthfully reflect the emptiness they hold within. It seems to be a classic example of irony then, that just this morning mumma said in a tone I haven't heard in 27 years of my living life, 'if you are disturbed by the news, you can talk to me. consider me a friend, a mother, what ever you will, abuse me if you like, but speak to me if you are stressed out'. Well I certainly am not a bad actor, i must claim. I held my head high and in the most serene tones replied, that i have grown up well to handle my life, mused on taking up ownership of one's mistakes and moving on and so on. She patted my hand and said with a smile she is glad I have matured. Don't know if she was putting up an equally good performance to counter mine?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
