Just for the sake of rhyming…….

Travel.
Traveled far and beyond with airway-imagination
Traveled fast in cars with no airbag protection
Traveled slow and steady in my lovely chemical reaction
Traveled light and heavy in my hearts imputation
Traveled clear in a cloudy guilt foundation
Traveled blindly to places to simply avoid desolation.

A Thing called Friendship.
“Ha”, was the word in our land
Little concave, but we overacted like a rock band
In laughter we swiveled away like the beach sand
Never took the retorts to heart, always used our hand
Sarcasm was usual, in spaces- exciting, in places- bland
Raised a few fingers on institutions, reminded us of our special gland.

Drugs.
Stole for pleasure and a reason which I didn’t mean
Then in an ocean of guilt, I dived lowly in my own submarine
In a make believe bubble, tried hard to come clean
But I lied again, for the happiness of my adrenaline
The stealing made me a little high, places I have never seen
The sound finally muted, and I was left with a furnished serene.

Love.
We were going fast
Since our time we had were not to last
So we went without a plan, straight fire and blast
We searched for the wind to raise our mast
Young we were, innocent, plain chaste
Diluted our heart in the future; overlooking the past.

Singular I.
I am normal, the epitome of a cloudy youth
Frank and free and blunt, vodka in sprite dilute
Never flying too high; trying to prove my words as if I was a mute
A cigarette with friends is where I found a perfect soothe
I lied to myself, but to my love I found the criticizing truth
If I was the car, she was the person to find me the route.

Was listening to: "Epiphany" by Staind. (Click here to listen)

This is exactly the life I ordered for….

The restaurant of life is greeted by the head-waiter, whose only lines in the world are “What would you like to order, sir?” or “Table for one or two, sir?”

In my case, I had a look around to find whether there were couples enjoying the dinner. There were none. So, my safe answer was, “Table for one….and can I have the menu?” Sophisticated and in accord with the ambience around.

The menu was handed down to me, which apparently was being used by a nerdy-looking, simple, straightforward, shy guy in the corner of the restaurant. I felt giddy at the choices laid down in front of me. The menu read:

Starters

Hard Work……………………………… Rs. 50
Joblessness…………………….…………Rs. 25
Cigarettes……………………….………..Rs. 40
Girls…………………………….…….….Rs. 75
Parents…………………………………...Rs. 15
Entertainment……………………………Rs. 15
(Includes movies, music, internet, shagging, etc.)

Main Course

Education………………………………..Rs. 60
(Includes the essences of hard work and a pinch of future)
Friends…………………………..………Rs. 35
(With bunch of friends, this will melt into your mouth)
Girls…………………………….……….Rs. 25
(Comes with the package of Yahoo Messenger, which is mandatory)
Confidence………………………….…..Rs. 70
(Recommended if you want to go for the Girls)
Will Power………………………….…..Rs. 60
(Helps if you’re smoking, drinking and trying out different leaves)
Entertainment…………………………...Rs. 5
(Different from the starter items, includes many more flavors)

Desserts

Education…………………………...…Rs. 100
Entertainment…….. (Complimentary from the chef)
(Cigarettes with movies and music sprinkled outside and inside the pie)
Love……………………………………Rs. 150
Confidence……………………….…….Rs. 100
(Needed for flavoring on top of love, it tastes better)
Will Power……………………………..Rs. 200
Time…………………………………....Rs. 300
Home………………………………….…Rs. 15
Ambition……………………………..…..Rs. 20
Liverpool FC……………………………...Rs. 5


I couldn’t decide what I wanted. I wouldn’t really. The waiter was waiting and I knew that I had to make my decision in a few seconds. And that decision decided what I wanted to do with my dinner. The dinner I was ordering about my life. Well, I checked my pockets, to find out how much I could buy. That made my decision even more intricate. Even more confusing. I found out I had only Rs. 400. Enough I think for a kid who just came from a place where people survived with even lesser than that. My parents taught me to choose the costlier stuff first, and then live a simpler and more tranquil life later. And that’s what I tried to do. But unfortunately, got a tiny-weenie-bit greedy and ordered something more lavish.


This is what I ordered in the “Restaurant of Life”.
For starters, I had raw hard-work and nothing else. In my main course, I had a lot of friends, girls and entertainment. Here, a taste called Flirting and Hanging-Out stuck to my tongue. Something, I so definitely wanted to feel when I was to have my desserts. And my desserts were obvious after that. Chose Love, Confidence (something which was recommended when I ordered love, and something that I learnt when tasting real love), Home, Ambition and Liverpool FC. Well, in the end, I think I should have chosen something’s differently. But, I am not complaining. After, THIS is exactly the life I ordered for…and I’m happy. More than happy.

Plus next time I visit the "Restaurant of Life"......it will be a table for two, in the smoking zone....

--------------the end-------------

Starters were my life in 1st year, main course-the life till the end of last year, and the desserts……the life right now…….

22nd May, 2007. 11 P.M. Was listening to: “It’s Ok” by Junkyard Groove. (Click here to listen)

A Conversation Within.......

(In around 10 days I leave my college, to Bangalore, to pursue a job. The conversation ranged the whole of my last 4 months here in Chennai. Hope it gives an insight into me)

The writer: “Hey, people…bad news, man. Our protagonist here (patting his old friend on the back), is leaving this city for a new venture. Leaving for a city which people called the city of thousand gardens. The city now harboring a million jobs afloat. Well, our little tambourine man has grown up.”

The Protagonist: “ Well, will miss these times of conversation among some friends and foes.”

The Optimist: “Too bad your leaving, protagonist. Used to like some moments with you. But guess, things will be a hell lot better. It’s a place where the future is bright, better try it out.”

The Hangover: “I would love it…hic…there. Loads of booze and hopefully lots of aspirins for the morning…hic….by the way, knock some babes there…..snore….”

The Creep: “Absolutely man, knock some shit out of some chicks, dude. Tell them a story, get them a drink and who knows….bang, bang, thank you ma’m. Ha, that would be fun…..Bangalore….the city of thousand beds. Ha!”

The Pessimist: “Creep, fuck man. Look at our protagonist. Does he look remotely the kind of person who can attract hordes of woman….”

The Protagonist: “Fuck you man. (with a sly grin, knowing well, he is going to be disappointed after the Pessimist finishes his lines)”.

The Pessimist: “Ha, gotchya going huh. Anyways, shall say this….get ready to get fucked hard in Bangalore. Unimpressed bosses, ugly tenants, crowded buses, alien auto-walla’s, long distance love, long hours, infuriated clients, fatigue, exhaustion, taxes….your gonna be called old….old as a senile man. Enjoy, man.”

The Disappointed: “Oh, I’m depressed. No way am I going away from here. Will find some way to stay back here in the cool, beautiful, magnificent piece of earth. I’ll be more than disappointed if I change.”

The Hope: “Think it will be alright. Its always been that way. Fate has a unique way of molding everyone to engrave themselves in any place they go. New or old. So, protagonist, it will be just fine….trust me….its gonna be JUST fine….”

The Disappointed: “Well, that was crap, Mr. Hope. But hope your right in some mystical way. Think I’m convinced, yup, am cheerful now for a while.”

The Frolic: “Hey. Dudes. Look at the bastard (pointing at our protagonist). He is feeling confused. Chill man…..chill. C’mon, you cant tell me that after living a nomad’s life for 21 years, think you can mange there…..”

The Protagonist: “But….this IS new. Very new. A start I’m so not sure of.”

The Frolic: “Ya, I know that. But dil pe mat le yaar, haath main le (Don’t take it to your heart, take it in your hands and enjoy.)”

The Protagonist: “True man, true.(Finally a smile arrives on his usually smiley face). The hand gives more pleasure than anything. (With a middle finger) Up yours, pessimist.

The Confidence: “But dude….umm…well. Are you sure. What if its not fun. What if its seriously fucked up?”

(The Protagonist looks down and hopes to find an answer to that question.)

(After a while, the Protagonist’s mother speaks out and tell him what to do)

The Philosopher(the mother): “At the end of the tunnel, there is always light. Unless you explore the unexplored, you may never know what there is. Assume that you know nothing, and probably you’ll learn some things new, untouched and intact. Made for you, in gold carvings. So, explore the new world, you will learn to deal with it.”

The Protagonist: “ What about the woman I’m going to be far away from.”

The Love: “Its ok. Its alright. We are same, there is nothing to cry……we can always fight and have fun when we can. Don’t worry about simple things like moving away.”

The Protagonist: “I’m not going away far, baby. Your still here, hope you understand. I’m sure your not so stubborn.”

The Writer: “Ah, think our boy is going to Bangalore then. Toast to him. And oh, his room and the posters in his room. Ha, and to his youth and his joyous heart.”

The Youth and the Joyous Heart(in unison): “Hey, we are going with him to Bangalore. He owes us a lot, and think he has to give us a party…..”

The Writer: “Well, its decided. Youth and Joyous Heart are coming with you, Protagonist. Are you cool with that?”

The Protagonist(cheerfully): “ABSOLUTELY MAN. I’d love their company. Well, its time to go now…..gotta start preparing my bags. Ciao.”

------the end------

17^th May, 2007. 8.10 P.M. Bangalore, here I come.(Took me close to 3 hours to write this. Definitely my longest.)

Was listening to: The album “Come away with me” by Norah Jones.

Rock. The Vibrations which flows inside me

The lines are made simply out of rock songs and as rock songs, meant little but meant big.

“Where were you, when I was burnt and broken.
while the day survives, from my window watching.
And where were you, when I was hurt and I was helpless
because the things you say and the things you do, surround me.”

The pink of barber floyd still haunts me,
Wishes me I was there.
Swallowing their music as if I was comfortably numb
My high hopes got mixed in a haze of brain damage
A brick wall hit me hard, a novice became a bard.

I asked myself WHO I was?
A teenage wasteland survivor or a tommy on the road.
Fooled again, I couldn’t stand
It was my generation to decide, they influenced
Well, the kid is alright.

Cos I’m a poet, don’t you know it.
But I’m not Mr. Dylan, the king.
The Mr. Tambourine Man.
The rolling of every stone.
The tangle of the blue.
Lets sing something absolutely new.
Write about revolution or about dope
C’mon, he deserves it though.

Lets travel oceans of music in a zeppelin.
Fuck, songs will remain the same, its pretty lame.
Evermore is unique, no need of a battle
As beautiful as Kashmir, as ugly as a black dog
As weird acoustic which left you with a bittersweet craving
They found me a stairway to heaven.

As I traversed, I asked each one :”you too”
They smirked U2, not you too.
I couldn’t live for a week with or without them
I reflected on streets with no name.
They felt like frenzy with blue, as if they are the only One
Sweet and sour and juicy, Numb is all I go.

Smell me, Cobain, teen spirit is what I wear
You made me suffer aneurysm, lithium is not what I care.
Polly is not someone I raped
All Apologies sir, there is nothing inside this box shaped heart.

Come creep listen to the radio inside your head.
Though my head is an android paranoid,
I have an airbag safekeeping, an accident enjoyed.
My love is not a fake plastic love
Its true though, I am a creep,
But I dissolved in the waters of the sandy heap.

Dedicated to the rock bands and singers who made me a stupid admirer of them. Pink Floyd, The Who, Bob Dylan, Led Zeppelin, U2, Kurt Cobain, Radiohead.

17^th May, 2007. 3.25 A.M.

Was listening to: “Bob Dylan Blues” by Syd Barrett. Rock on…..really…..

Chennai

A city I hated. The city I despised to try out. The city I was scared to explore beyond my college’s vicinity. A single theatre was my only place to cool down and hang my sorrows into oblivion. Communication with a stranger was as hard as….well, as hard as something that’s hard. A beer bottle cost us a few kilometers of petrol and the brand always sucked. Every minute in the city of south light was followed with a shadow of impure doubt and distrust. In this fascinating city, a feel of a certain air of alienation covered me in the blanket of hesitation. But, then…something happened.

An October sky, filled with rain and dark clouds covered this city of the sea. The beach became a place of forgetting any riddle in my head. She was there holding my hand and pulling me to herself, and I was more than happy to get pulled over. At first, Chennai didn’t give me that pleasure and I had my own questions, probing out without an answer. Then the few final days of the winter showed me my immediate future. The city had changed into a garden of my own eden. People became friends, a companion. Streets with no names, became streets I follow. Music flowed and danced I stood. She was there too, with the city, loving me and accepting me as I had never felt.

Chennai. Now. The city I love. City with no limits. Anytime cigarettes with a cheap tea. A cold vodka with plain soda. A heartbeat away falling in love. It’s a center of the universe for me, a place I call HOME. A place where I want to die, side by side with the crashing dying waves of the sea.

To Chennai. To fruit shop on Gream’s road, to pizza hut, to diesel, to Zara’s, to leather bar, to Mocha, to Pupil, to the pavement on the beach, to Hi-Look, to everything…….

Was listening to: ”Mehfuz” by Euphoria.

14^th May, 2007. 6 P.M.

The ashes are burning, so is Ash…..

For Ashok. I hope he finds some faith I want him to get.

Convergence
The converging effect of hot chocolate brownie with cold chocolate ice-cream
It leaves a ubiquitous effect on you
The converging effect of the hot-in-frenzy me, with the cold-disheartened Ashy
Has the same effect on me.
I sound radiant in the dark skin of the night
He sounds like the night, under a streetlamp light.
Glowing and directing, obscure about the riding moon
A palatable joy surrounds me with him, oasis rising in the sand-dune.

Conversing
The conversation that builds through the perfect smoke and ash of the cigarette
His hopes find me jealousy, unclear and unworthy.
The conversation reaps me to be the smoke-ring, while he remains the forgetting ash
Why is I ask myself to judge, I know not.
Deep as a forest his lost cravings go
Like a lost waterfall in the same forest, he lives to flow.
Desires swollen in him, he is pregnant with hope
With a few newborn changes, he just wants to elope.

Fantasizing
The fantasies of Alice to fall in the rabbit hole and let wonderland take her in
It’s a story I can now relate to
The fantasies of touching the rabbits on the moon, and fall in the rabbit hole
Moon being his high hopes, the rabbit hole being his dreams
He engraves in stone, simple/blind/innate essay
To be touched by one woman. Like Christmas, light up his each day.
Finds himself in a position, succumbing to engineer
In a shadow he survives, waiting for some love, someone dear.

“Don’t pile up the sorrow, my friend
Pile up joy, that you can mend
Drink up the regret and distress with a forgotten gulp
Join the party, frenzy and don’t think of an amend.”

For Ashok. Rather Ash. Dude, this is after our CCD trip at 2 A.M. remember. Well, rock on………

Was listening to: “Shadow of the Day” by Linkin Park. (By the way, found the new album of Linkin Park before its release. Long live my LAN. Hehe….)

Btw, all those who dont know Ash, do check out his blog, click here to find pain

She tried to kill herself....thats the title of the painting below....

(A 'provoked' state of mind)

Shawshank Redemption, It's a wonderful life, Schindler’s list, La Bamba, Sunset Boulevard, City of Gods…..do you know what is common with all of them. Well, will sound very unlike-me, but I dropped a tear for each of those movies. Actually the list would have been a little longer if I could have thought for a little while more. But seriously, don’t wanna depress myself all over again. Well, now add Provoked. Ah, shit…hated the movie cos of Aishwarya Rai, but couldn’t help not write about it.

It’s a mad mad world sometimes. Very cunning, very disturbing, disgusting and profoundly depressing. The whole concept seems to shake the insides of anybody. I mean, c’mon, how the fuck can anyone actually beat another person for some fucked up reason like booze. The idea deludes me, misses me…..blinds me.

Cruelty is not new, I presume. Rationally speaking, its quite relative. Hitler is right is my world, but you might think laterally. But, your own wife…. The mother of your children. Someone you love, or at least respect. Its sickening, its abhorring, its repulsing, its nauseating, it’s a bloody fucking-mother fucking shame. A scar on an institution called marriage and love. Somewhere in the middle east, they torture people by stoning them. Guess, people like Deepak Ahluwalia should be getting the same damn fate somewhere in hell. Rotting like a dead insect. Putrefying in his own puke.

Anyways, guess I should apologize for the intense words I used. Right now, I’m biting under my teeth, formulating ways to calm myself down. Hated writing this piece, but think anger’s sometimes good for self-emulating the sadness.

12^th May, 2007. 3.45 A.M. Just finished watching “Provoked”.

Was listening to: “Mad World” by Gary Jules.

“Those three words I have said too much, but they are not enough”

Grape juice with perfectly woven conversation,
Then the pavement on the beach enclosed light, frolicked chatting.
She wanted to try giving up her chastity towards cruelty to animals,
But I got skeptical whether she was having fun.
It was her love for ice-cream that kept us alive and happy
We went back to the beach pavement, sat to talk, composed and in each other’s love.

Finally, we fought over some stupid reason which concerned both of us
But the air was polluted with a ceaselessly long doubt.
About parasitic past and hesitant future.
Like classic lovers we disagreed and ego flowed faster than our maturity.
Childish we sounded and childish acts we did.

But those three words were enough after a few minutes.
It brought us back to our garden of Eden, to the place we call our home.

Like a Spanish quartet playing their most beautiful love song
We conversed like we had always done.
We fooled and made a fool of each other, our norm as the best friends we were.
Nothing changed nor did it want to, I was here with her, and she with me
Our words to each other seemed like poetry, a simple beautiful symphony.
Nothing changed, we kept repeating the three words
Until I made her cry, a cry found in joy………

Now,
I write about the day and dissolve in my good fate.
She was here an hour ago, seems a zillion days ago.
Tomorrow is something I can’t wait for.
To kiss her and tell her, how much I ache for her……..

10^th May, 2007. 3.15 A.M.

The beach bear witness to one of its lovely little love story….between cloud minus nine and his companion for life, the one who would take me to cloud positive nine each time she smiles.

Was listening to: “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol. (The title is taken from one line from the song)

Colors

A cold, simple heart-
Placid like a forest waterfall, inconsiderate of the consequences of the river below.
Flows down and mingles with the river
The blue of the water turns white with the bubbles.

Light as a feather-
Our hero talks in syllables, hides much more than he can and he could
Tries hard to express himself in the complex way possible
Red, he turns with anger because of his blue interior.

“Look at the stars, look how they shine for you-
And everything you do, 'cause they were all yellow
I came along, I wrote a song for you-
And all the things you do, and it was called yellow.”

Wishes of a kid-
They don’t arrive in a day, they formulate with the maturity of gaining ideas
But in time realizes, the unfortunate.
Its this golden dreams that make a bare red angry soul.

A train on fire-
They were leaving to a place they called their motherland, their place of start
Somehow they aggravated some mild human beings.
An orange gang lit up in the mix of green jealousy and red blood.

A naïve lover of the ghetto-
He fell in love with the idea of reaching a star that one had named “destiny”.
Instead he came tumbling down on god’s hard rock.
A violet lover destined to become a black-hearted murderer.

Wish you were here-
Every second, time and again, ponders where his lover is.
Whether she would show up and bring the flowers back into his heart.
His colorless face turns a rainbow with her.

The principles we hold on to-
He raises his finger to protest and the same finger to defend, and the same to shit.
He lies about roads, whores and about his wife.
A white politician’s spirit turns a black mint.

On a day like today-
Your best friend gives you a hug, your mother cheers you up, your love just confesses her love.
The day seems like a movie.
A silver screen idiom, anybody’s yellow dream.

Finally for my love-
The beach tells us stories after stories in cryptic ways and teaches us enigmatic verses.
Poetry comes and reaches me like the stories when I’m with you.
Love flows in the air, takes me wildly
Shows me a light and leaves an advice to give her.
A pimpled white moon reflects in the blue sea, and brings a message home.

the yellow line---------------the white---------------the blue line

(I wanted to interpret that yellow defined joy, the blue defined sorrow…in between was my childish heart, white.)

Inspired completely by Coldplay’s “Yellow”. Never thought a song can actually mean so much and hit me so hard. Apparently, it was meant to be a normal poetry, but the last para just gave it away with just too much to write about my love. By the way, contains elements I love to discuss, like politics, ghetto, friendships, music………..

9^th May, 2007. 3.50 A.M.

Was listening to: “Yellow” by Coldplay. (Obviously)

Your skin and your bones, turn into something beautiful….make love not….

The highlight of the day runs strong in my head
She came at around 11, and came again a million times.
Whenever I couldn’t keep up with her
I said the three words loud enough, to
Remind me. Of how much I wish to be with her then.
Cured I feel of any obtuse reflection I could inherit
Curse myself for even doubting the insane fact.

She cried once and laughed thrice
Latter one I enjoyed and joined her to the joy
Former one I blamed myself and joined her to cry.
The pain she told me later was something inscrutable
How selfish could I become,
I remorse and I cry more than her.

Sometimes the proverb “Hungry like a wolf”
Sometimes “Timid as a bunny”.
More often chocolates dipped in plastic
Sometimes the chocolates eaten undone.
The glow remains the same
Her face tells me all the stories that have to be told
I don’t need to look very far into her
Just her expressionless eyes, telling me what she wants.
The commencement is not close.

Though novices, we both of us
We manage in a few moves learnt in love movies
At least, kid here does. And wishes he had more.
But kid is just too much in the rabbit hole
A hole made for him to fall
And fall he does.
He cant wish for anything more than this thing he doesn’t want to stop.
In a wishing well, he wishes, for more of her.

The air changes suddenly to a deep and thoughtful talk
She wants to forget somethings
And remember unnecessary details, not required
That’s the only thing I tell her.
The air outside changes into a melancholy and tender drizzle
We tenderly smile and give each other a invisible ring of commitment .
She smiles her beautiful smile
I smile the “don’t ever go away” smile.

“It’s not time yet”, I try convincing her
As the prophet who is always right and wise,
She is right. I lament on the fact that time is unwise.
If I get to stay in this cuddle of hers eternally
It would be a second, a fraction of the evermore.

The curtains finally lay down,
We can see the world outside blooming as they have never.
Friends and family become trivial, we converge
Into a being. Her thoughts are our decisions,
My Virgo is the frolic, considerate and indecisive.
A kiss away are we to our own worlds
A kiss away are we closer to our own world.

9th May, 2007. 12.55 A.M. The day when I could wish for a million times and not worry too much of what the world thought about it.......

Was listening to: "Its Ok" by Junkyard Groove the whole time. Must have heard it a million times during the writing.

An unusual thing called friendship

Wittiness proclaims a limit, a strange boundary, unwritten-unedited and build with bricks of walls, strong enough, yet strangely placid. You could make one silent till they conjure up a silence, loud enough to show a crack in the futile attempt of humor for existence. The dwellings of being a youth are these subtlety we tend to forget.

Jealousy is normal. Best friends are found and lost when in a untimely fashion you learn that hate is mutual for a mutual friend. Its understood and trusted. Its cruel and its crispy. You climb together and fail together, the joy that is found is insane.

It’s a play. You’re a part of it. Sometimes the protagonist. Sometimes the water-boy. Everyone prays once in a while for that part we refer as the ultimate. Justifiably, you lie in that moment, build stories unheard, rumors revised and updated, old memories recapped. The moment to be a hero, or just plain significant for that moment.

Time zooms by at the speed of the laughter and frolic. At one moment you were strangers, now the strangeness left the building and wind of friendship brought a figure called brothers. Stupid brothers, to be more specific.

Four years have gone by without notice.

7^th May, 2007. 5.55 A.M. Rock on…….

Kitten

On the morning of 2^nd May, while walking from my college to a tea-shop, for a fag actually, I met this interesting character. A kitten. Young, perhaps a few days old. She would have survived if I would have taken her. I wish I could. But I would have obviously imbalanced something which I don’t own. Wish, I would have imbalanced it. Now I curse myself for not taking her with me. And I dedicate it to her. The kitten.

Daringly you stand
Cold outside
Shivering you’ve learnt on your own
To teach me how to shiver.
Death is her choice
Mellows creek unfortunately
Buying some time.

Its raping me from my own human emotion.
She walks gracefully
Toddles I should say
Furry, quiet, miniscule, pretty.
She suffers it unconditionally.
Fear defies my baby,
Hate fills me inside.

Verges of tears closes by,
Options seems to open
Wide and forgivingly open
Save it, I must
But sense plays its play.

Blind I cant stay
Deaf I cant stay
Soulless I’m not.
Painless impossible.

Sensitivity creeps from inside a heart-shaped box.
It succumbs and dwells inboard
A trait I learnt from love
A trait I learnt IN love.

She scares a mongrel street dog
Even my protagonist can
But the maker, me
is scared of that as well.
Just hold on, my baby
just stay for a while, a few more days……

Updated and uploaded on the 4th of May, 2007. 3 p.m. Rock on......

The boundaries of hope....and "Ai"

Sometimes lie

It’s her smile
you crave
In anyway
In an unimaginable way
through dark darkness
facing blue

Find a tale
to interest
her.
Intriguing.
Keep her guessing
intriguing
fulfilling.
Killing time

A song
never unsung
radiating.
Takes her higher
reminding
the days
Pinching her heart
recapping
completing.

Obsess
Deluded
Prove
that she is
not
the loneliest girl
in
the world.
Period.

Stay for
foolishness
its
the first act of the play.
regret
pain
tears
following the pattern.

The
search has ended.
Repentance
grips.
tortures
torments
agonizes.
Cruelly
Its not really ok.

Regret
nothing.
Regret
everything.
regret fantasies
regret
this.
Ask yourself
“are you guilty?”.

Forget
you.
I can’t.
Leave
you.
I can’t.
Let you
go.
I can’t.

Say
something.
anything.
say what. just
anything.
lets hush.
A silent silence.
To
break
the monologue.

Ocean
of hope and my love
the tambourine circus kid
begging
pleading
hoping
hoping
hoping…..
beyond boundaries of hope.

The japanese word "Ai". The calligraphy consumed me.

It simply means Love.

Was listening to songs of Cary Brothers from his website: www.carybrothers.com .As a habit, the recommendations would be "Blue Eyes" , "Ride" and "Loneliest Girl in the World". They are beautiful. They are filled with emotions, high and dry.

4th April, 2007. 7.25 A.M. Rock on.......

On a sandless beach, on top of a stone

I am telling my lone companion to wither away
Its given me everything and nothing, but I still want him away.
This moment is fascinating me and irritating me
Its disturbing me and still taking me away.

Sounds of waves crashing on to the black stone
The golden sand is behind me, the sun trying to rise.
Far away a sound called humor crashes in
A far away lighthouse tells its story to the ships.

Clouds jealous of us and the rising sun
Black and shapeless and distant and still envious
Listening to Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven”
I could go on writing if my light’s permit the rays.

Cigarette smokes have rashed my lips
Cheap tea has bound me to the state of insomnia.
My green t-shirt is tired of the weariness
My new jeans is ripped and darkened in blue.

My watch reads early morning
My head reads the end of the day.
My pen reads the lines of loneliness
My finger reads the end of the lines

Far away a boat or a ship reads its future
Close I see people ready for their end.
Fair people observe the land of obscurity
Dark people observe what I perceive-idiocracy.

One thinks of corporations build on brilliance
The other thinks of his bleaked unconfident days.
I think how attention gain be gained
And people think what we can never think.

I am bored, I am tired, I am weary
I am sleepy, I am insane, I am waiting.
I am happy, I am bliss, I am annoyed
I am alright, I am alright, I am alright……

(Written on the beach at Pondicherry, after a stupid night-out and a insane urge to fun-a-holics. I was traveling with Ash and Mahek….and they were close to me till this day.)

Rock on……Uploaded and Updated on the 2nd of May, 2007. 11.15 P.M.

The curse of the mighty, so red and shady

The inspiration for this writing. Its a painting by Sebastian Spreng. Found it in one of my mails, a spam mail, really, but....Anyways, its called "Distant Shores". And it was painted for three friends of the painter, one day on a beach. By the way, the colour you see right now is RED.

The sun’s hollow to the radiant energy inside us,
Cool teardrops of the sea tearing us into two
Eyes have stopped looking from far off into the distant
Only the heaven below us, hell inside us.

Two shorts, one towel and an orgy of frolic and fain
One pen, a notebook and a gloriously stupid writer.

Three different hearts and three different mind and thoughts
One simple purpose; consume whatever we can never.
A beer Can flows in and dissolves the pain unfruitfully
Deludes our thinking, purpose becomes useless, fruitless.

Every cigarette puff is an adventure undefined
Every word from a friend is a companion
Every side that touches me is a god send
Every breeze on my body is a shock.

I don’t know what will happen in a month
I might know what rules define in a year
But this moment knows nothing that far
Curse it or bless it.

Never felt so good, nor so exhilarated
A monster of words beginning to make sense
A reaper of poetry pulling out the life out of me
“Bend over” he says,” I am here for more”.

Writing the last paragraph, before I end up as myself
Waiting for the life I lead, with humility and shame
Waiting for that same death of my humility and shame.

Pair of thoughts still remains to be shown,
Spare a thought for my listless soul………