Flow through me
gently and softly
enveloped in
care and comfort
penetrate me
carry me
and if need be
suffocate me
delicately
and lovingly
permeate me
or confiscate me
o' my precious.
The Exile
Mourn, Oh beauty!
mourn for me
the sun passes
glades golden
gentle breeze
caress and cry
follow me not
softly and gently
come within
remember me
soul bereaved
steady steed
silent wishes
and whispers fly
wave me off
to serene sky
never forget
pray for me
hope against
but test me not
chaste love
and heart yours
tears cry
watch the horizon
wave to me
mourn me not
everlasting beauty,
mourn for me.
mourn for me
the sun passes
glades golden
gentle breeze
caress and cry
follow me not
softly and gently
come within
remember me
soul bereaved
steady steed
silent wishes
and whispers fly
wave me off
to serene sky
never forget
pray for me
hope against
but test me not
chaste love
and heart yours
tears cry
watch the horizon
wave to me
mourn me not
everlasting beauty,
mourn for me.
A Study in Solitude
Seeing someone's blood all over your hand has a curious way of bringing you back to your senses. The many rivulets of the warm crimson liquid gushing forth and coalescing to mark their territory can also just as easily push you into one of your worst nightmares. I, for one, am no exception.
As I stood there, watching with a smile on my face, the ultimate beauty of the farce called 'life', I could finally see. I could finally understand why I was attracted to her so much. Why she had come to rule my life. Why I had to do what I did. What I was seeing was beautiful beyond compare. She looked so serene even in death, my heart ached with an intolerable impulse. I wanted to capture each and every strand of her silky hair, capture the depth of those beautiful eyes, capture every single detail of what I was beholding. It was like looking into God's own eyes, communicating with him, apologising for my sins, and finding sympathy and understanding. After all, isn't that what destiny is all about?
My name is Kenji and this is the story of Misukawa, the girl of my life. The girl whose death made me find God. The girl who, as they say, made me who I am today.
A certain someone, impressed by my writing skills, had asked (nay, badgered) me to try my hand at books. Well I am a man of my word, and I did try. And as now there's no point in deferring it to eternity, I give you here the prologue I had written for it.
Ciao
As I stood there, watching with a smile on my face, the ultimate beauty of the farce called 'life', I could finally see. I could finally understand why I was attracted to her so much. Why she had come to rule my life. Why I had to do what I did. What I was seeing was beautiful beyond compare. She looked so serene even in death, my heart ached with an intolerable impulse. I wanted to capture each and every strand of her silky hair, capture the depth of those beautiful eyes, capture every single detail of what I was beholding. It was like looking into God's own eyes, communicating with him, apologising for my sins, and finding sympathy and understanding. After all, isn't that what destiny is all about?
My name is Kenji and this is the story of Misukawa, the girl of my life. The girl whose death made me find God. The girl who, as they say, made me who I am today.
A certain someone, impressed by my writing skills, had asked (nay, badgered) me to try my hand at books. Well I am a man of my word, and I did try. And as now there's no point in deferring it to eternity, I give you here the prologue I had written for it.
Ciao
The beauty of the night
You know, there is definitely a distinct beauty in the darkness of the night. No, not just a beauty, 'coz beauty fades away. The night is everywhere and for everyone. It is the cool reprieve a poor hawker seeks. It frees up the space for a street urchin to sleep on the sidewalks. It provides cover for those seeking to unleash the beast within. It softly caresses the bereaved with a sense of anonymity. It is the one which helps you draw into yourself, making you think and believe what you wanna believe.
My Mishaps with Muses
Contrary to what I've told some people, my blog posts are mostly about or inspired by what happens with and around me.
Well before you start running to me, asking me to explain what I meant in this post and that, lemme just mention that it may not be as straight as you thing it is. The blog post may be a refinement of an incident, or some insignificant detail of one that caught my attention. But then again, it may very well be so!
Anyways, here we go...
Till date I've hit upon the love treasure thrice. Is that too many or too few? I don't know. Did they love me back? I may know a little, but certainly not all I wanted to know. Do I still stand a chance? Again..I know some, but not enough. What I do know is this:
The first one was so early I was'nt even thinking on love lines until the time came for her to move away. When I did realize it, she was gone. Don't worry though. We did meet online many times, and every time I dropped some subtle and some not-so-subtle hints at her. Did she not understand or did she just ignore them? I'll never know. I believe I lost this one because I took an aweful lot of time and because I did'nt put it in strong, concrete words. Anyways, that was my first and longest(by far) love to you.
The next one just sort of happened in college. You know, the way long-standing friendship progresses and all. That one fell apart, and I am not a big cricket fan, because of (mis)timings. Apparently we loved each other, but not at the same time. (If Karan Johar is reading this, read this as "my next movie on a platter") Well that was my most amicable one till date.
The third one (and the wound is still fresh here) is....well...the shortest(? arguably) and the strongest one yet. Am a maniac about her. Can't think straight, can't see anyone else, can't hear others when around her. I think you get the point. I have heard a lot of things, but I would like to believe that this one did'nt work because I jumped the gun and put it in too strong words (and yes, the irony is not lost on me).
So..there it is. My very own 'muse list'.
Well before you start running to me, asking me to explain what I meant in this post and that, lemme just mention that it may not be as straight as you thing it is. The blog post may be a refinement of an incident, or some insignificant detail of one that caught my attention. But then again, it may very well be so!
Anyways, here we go...
Till date I've hit upon the love treasure thrice. Is that too many or too few? I don't know. Did they love me back? I may know a little, but certainly not all I wanted to know. Do I still stand a chance? Again..I know some, but not enough. What I do know is this:
The first one was so early I was'nt even thinking on love lines until the time came for her to move away. When I did realize it, she was gone. Don't worry though. We did meet online many times, and every time I dropped some subtle and some not-so-subtle hints at her. Did she not understand or did she just ignore them? I'll never know. I believe I lost this one because I took an aweful lot of time and because I did'nt put it in strong, concrete words. Anyways, that was my first and longest(by far) love to you.
The next one just sort of happened in college. You know, the way long-standing friendship progresses and all. That one fell apart, and I am not a big cricket fan, because of (mis)timings. Apparently we loved each other, but not at the same time. (If Karan Johar is reading this, read this as "my next movie on a platter") Well that was my most amicable one till date.
The third one (and the wound is still fresh here) is....well...the shortest(? arguably) and the strongest one yet. Am a maniac about her. Can't think straight, can't see anyone else, can't hear others when around her. I think you get the point. I have heard a lot of things, but I would like to believe that this one did'nt work because I jumped the gun and put it in too strong words (and yes, the irony is not lost on me).
So..there it is. My very own 'muse list'.
Barrier breached!
Gloomy and dark days spread across the horizon of my life as I drifted off in melancholy and despair. There was lots to see, but my eyes were blinded. The sweet music of love that once guided me through the muck had gone happily gallivanting with treasures of its own. Faraway voices of my fellow bloggers beckoned from across the darkness. Yes there was so much to write, so much to share. But the trauma had left me scarred and unsettled. Words forming behind my eyes could not make it to my fingertips, hitting some omnipresent barrier within me. Finally a sliver of light pierced through that barrier, puncturing it, ever so slightly, enough to let out a barrage of thoughts, words and what not!
This post (and the next one) is for that benefactor, the evangelist of sorts. Thanks Deepika for all that you did.
This post (and the next one) is for that benefactor, the evangelist of sorts. Thanks Deepika for all that you did.
Bees and Buterflies!...Where do moths fit in?
God made man and woman, and they then took it from there. That's the way we generally think of as normal and that's the way nature needs us to be. Man like woman and woman like man.
But then along came the homosexuals. The world was in shock! How can a man make love to another man? And how can a woman make love to another woman? That was just too much for an average person to wrap his/her head around. And after a rather long-drawn cycle of disgust, uproar, debate, and what not, they seem to be finally coming under the acceptable category.
Good for them!
But then it got me thinking (uh..oh!). If in the yesteryears, a man can be trapped in a woman's body, and a woman can be trapped in a man's body, well, logically or at least hypothetically, it is now possible for a lesbian to be trapped in a man's body and a gay to be trapped in a woman's body.
See, ain't it beautiful! On the exterior these people would seem like what grandpa and grandma used to call normal, but inside, inside it would be a whole new reason, whole new logic working.
Now this is just what I thought. Maybe its true, maybe its not! (oh! it rhymes) It is just the people out there who know what's best for themselves and I say, "let it be!"
But then along came the homosexuals. The world was in shock! How can a man make love to another man? And how can a woman make love to another woman? That was just too much for an average person to wrap his/her head around. And after a rather long-drawn cycle of disgust, uproar, debate, and what not, they seem to be finally coming under the acceptable category.
Good for them!
But then it got me thinking (uh..oh!). If in the yesteryears, a man can be trapped in a woman's body, and a woman can be trapped in a man's body, well, logically or at least hypothetically, it is now possible for a lesbian to be trapped in a man's body and a gay to be trapped in a woman's body.
See, ain't it beautiful! On the exterior these people would seem like what grandpa and grandma used to call normal, but inside, inside it would be a whole new reason, whole new logic working.
Now this is just what I thought. Maybe its true, maybe its not! (oh! it rhymes) It is just the people out there who know what's best for themselves and I say, "let it be!"
Requiem in desperation
Silence...Oh! Deafening silence.
The wrist watch ticks,
the shoe squeaks,
the cell vibrates,
but silence...nothing but deafening silence.
The bubble pops,
and I free-fall,
heart leaps, and dives again,
and silence...a complete deafening silence.
Everyone shout,
and share a joke,
they laugh aloud,
but inside silence...pure deafening silence.
Static buzzes,
eyeballs pop,
blood gushes,
as body rots,
and silence...eternal deafening silence.
The wrist watch ticks,
the shoe squeaks,
the cell vibrates,
but silence...nothing but deafening silence.
The bubble pops,
and I free-fall,
heart leaps, and dives again,
and silence...a complete deafening silence.
Everyone shout,
and share a joke,
they laugh aloud,
but inside silence...pure deafening silence.
Static buzzes,
eyeballs pop,
blood gushes,
as body rots,
and silence...eternal deafening silence.
Friends, gestures, seas, shores and boats
Okay people,
Am back for good. Got a net connection at my residence (finally)! ....
Sooo, am catching up with the backlog of stuff I had written but not posted...and talking of firsts, let me introduce you to the kavi(poet in hindi) in me...(with sincerest apologies to non-hindi readers) I present a series of shers (i guess I can call them that)...
But first a disclaimer. I accept that the first one is not an original and I got it as an SMS from a friend. And if you get a bit confused, read it as a conversation between two people arguing for their side of an argument, alternatively speaking a paragraph each...
यूँ न हर बात यारों से पूछो,
जो बात राज़ की हो इशारों से पूछो,
लहरों से खेलना तो समंदर का खेल है,
लगती है चोट कैसे किनारों से पुछो।
लब जो इशारों की जुबां समझना चाहें,
कहीं गुस्ताखी न कर बैठें,
हम जो किनारों का मरहम बनना चाहें,
कहीं कश्ती को ख़फा न कर बैठें।
इशारों की फितरत में ही है राज़ का ऐलान,
खेल के असली लुत्फ़ की तो करो पहचान,
लहरों के बिन उस कश्ती का सोचो क्या,
जिसे किनारे लगाने में ही है समंदर की आन।
यारों के दरमियाँ राज़ की कोई बात कैसी,
इशारों की महफिल में एहतियात की आवाज़ कैसी,
समंदर की हर बूँद का एक ही तो नाम है,
फिर सैलाब के बाद यह मुज़रिम की तलाश कैसी।
वक्त के तराज़ू में इशारों की अहमियत न तोल पाओगे,
यारी के लिए इससे अच्छा ज़रिया न ढूँढ पाओगे,
समंदर और किनारे में लाख नुक्स निकाल लो,
पर कभी दोनों को जुदा न कर पाओगे।
Am back for good. Got a net connection at my residence (finally)! ....
Sooo, am catching up with the backlog of stuff I had written but not posted...and talking of firsts, let me introduce you to the kavi(poet in hindi) in me...(with sincerest apologies to non-hindi readers) I present a series of shers (i guess I can call them that)...
But first a disclaimer. I accept that the first one is not an original and I got it as an SMS from a friend. And if you get a bit confused, read it as a conversation between two people arguing for their side of an argument, alternatively speaking a paragraph each...
यूँ न हर बात यारों से पूछो,
जो बात राज़ की हो इशारों से पूछो,
लहरों से खेलना तो समंदर का खेल है,
लगती है चोट कैसे किनारों से पुछो।
लब जो इशारों की जुबां समझना चाहें,
कहीं गुस्ताखी न कर बैठें,
हम जो किनारों का मरहम बनना चाहें,
कहीं कश्ती को ख़फा न कर बैठें।
इशारों की फितरत में ही है राज़ का ऐलान,
खेल के असली लुत्फ़ की तो करो पहचान,
लहरों के बिन उस कश्ती का सोचो क्या,
जिसे किनारे लगाने में ही है समंदर की आन।
यारों के दरमियाँ राज़ की कोई बात कैसी,
इशारों की महफिल में एहतियात की आवाज़ कैसी,
समंदर की हर बूँद का एक ही तो नाम है,
फिर सैलाब के बाद यह मुज़रिम की तलाश कैसी।
वक्त के तराज़ू में इशारों की अहमियत न तोल पाओगे,
यारी के लिए इससे अच्छा ज़रिया न ढूँढ पाओगे,
समंदर और किनारे में लाख नुक्स निकाल लो,
पर कभी दोनों को जुदा न कर पाओगे।
Hey, lemme know how you find them!
Ciao
Ciao
Uncooked rhyme
There are times when you feel like shit inside,
when you don't know what else to try,
and all you wanna do is cry.
Times when the world seems a cruel place,
when someone you find very hard to replace,
and you seek her trace in every embrace.
Times when you dream about her all night,
when you want to be always by her side,
even if you know that it's not right.
Times when you start singing 'the lemon tree',
when 'we' becomes the new 'me',
and you wish never again to be lonely.
when you don't know what else to try,
and all you wanna do is cry.
Times when the world seems a cruel place,
when someone you find very hard to replace,
and you seek her trace in every embrace.
Times when you dream about her all night,
when you want to be always by her side,
even if you know that it's not right.
Times when you start singing 'the lemon tree',
when 'we' becomes the new 'me',
and you wish never again to be lonely.
Silent Promise
I know its not easy
but am willing to try,
to be the wailing wall
when you need to cry.
I'll be the pin cushion
to take all your hurt,
or be the teddy bear
if you desire a cuddly spurt.
I'll be the closet
in which you can hide,
or be the veil
if you just want to step aside.
I'll be all ears
for all you wanna say,
or be a partner
if you need a gentle sway.
I'll be the melody
that your heart sings,
or be a perfume
when the world stinks.
I'll even be a nobody,
if that's what you desire.
Just to see you happy
is all that I aspire.
I'll be a friend
if you need it the most,
but please dear don't cry
as it hurts me the most.
Storm Riders
Over the mountains,
above the clouds,
there ain't any weather
for which we fly south.
We chase devil's tail,
n give him his hell back.
We scourge this evil world
like a hungry wolfpack.
Gale force means
nothing to us,
bring it on coz
that ain't even serious.
Let it snow,
let it rain,
you ain't seen nothin'
if you ain't got no pain.
We never gear up,
coz that's such a shame.
Just head into the wild
and it'll never be the same.
Lose all inhibitions
coz warnings are lame,
what we do here
is playing a man's game.
Never say die.
Never give in.
And whatever you do
just remember the name.
above the clouds,
there ain't any weather
for which we fly south.
We chase devil's tail,
n give him his hell back.
We scourge this evil world
like a hungry wolfpack.
Gale force means
nothing to us,
bring it on coz
that ain't even serious.
Let it snow,
let it rain,
you ain't seen nothin'
if you ain't got no pain.
We never gear up,
coz that's such a shame.
Just head into the wild
and it'll never be the same.
Lose all inhibitions
coz warnings are lame,
what we do here
is playing a man's game.
Never say die.
Never give in.
And whatever you do
just remember the name.
A thousand apologies!
A thousand apologies from the very deepest core of my heart to fellow bloggers. I was unable to blog these past few months because of terribly pressing circumstances. Don't worry, there's lots to come as I have gained immence experiences which (I hope) will be shared here in the coming weeks.
In the past month, I went on my first abroad vacation (a trip to Malaysia-Singapore), met (...well saw) a TV regular (Krishnamachari Srikanth), and biggest of them all, joined a corporate concern....ya baby, am a professional now!
Well now have relocated to a completely new city and was until recently one of the multitudes here, drifting eternally, searching for some welcoming piece of land to hold our roots. Will get back to regular blogging as soon I get settled in my new accomodations.
Until then.
In the past month, I went on my first abroad vacation (a trip to Malaysia-Singapore), met (...well saw) a TV regular (Krishnamachari Srikanth), and biggest of them all, joined a corporate concern....ya baby, am a professional now!
Well now have relocated to a completely new city and was until recently one of the multitudes here, drifting eternally, searching for some welcoming piece of land to hold our roots. Will get back to regular blogging as soon I get settled in my new accomodations.
Until then.
To friendship!
Books, movies, food, art, sitcoms... These are the things people who know me would associate with me. But lately things seem to have changed. Books have been reduced to a couple of pages worth of battle between me and my lost soul. Movies just seem to have become long and boring; an endless charade of minuscule characters living their lives while I am supposed to sit back and enjoy my popcorn. Food is now just a daily routine I have to undergo because I have been doing it for so many years, the very reason for which is probably forever lost within the many folds of fat I have accumulated. Art itself seems to have abandoned me, probably looking for more succulent individuals while I struggle with just the faint reminiscence of what I once was. Sitcoms glaringly thrust in my face, the 'happy' lives of so many others; faces which so very easily make the switch between the reel and the real ones... The list is endless!
This past fortnight I have been living the worst nightmare possible, you know, the one in which you aren't really sure if it actually is one or not. Its like the whole cast of a creepy movie rolled up into me. Sometimes I feel like crying, like a poor little victim, someone totally innocent whom fate has thrust into monstrous scenarios. Other times I laugh. No not the sweet one, but a real malicious kind of sneer-meets-laugh thing, as if after a long and hard struggle the target of my wrath is right in front of me and I begin picturing what exactly I am gonna do with it. Then there are the times when I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. These are the moments I just while around, groaning and moaning, desperately trying to find something in this whole blue world that would interest me, or at least get me through the ordeal.
Initially I thought it would go away with time. But in actuality, if its possible, it seems to be growing with each passing moment. And I tell you folks, it is pretty complicated, explaining to your parents exactly why you were smiling uncontrollably when all you were doing was chatting with some old friends. Or why sometimes you just loose it in completely unprovoked situations. But most of all, dear reader, what is really tough is the grief you have to live with, the insurmountably dull melancholy of life without your friends. I tell you what. It is now that I have realized what 'losing a part of yourself' actually feels like, I can safely say that ages and ages of bards and writers who have touched upon this subject are not exaggerating even a bit.
With this literary eye-opener I bid adieu, and raise my glass for a last toast, "to friendship and beyond"!
Cheers.
This past fortnight I have been living the worst nightmare possible, you know, the one in which you aren't really sure if it actually is one or not. Its like the whole cast of a creepy movie rolled up into me. Sometimes I feel like crying, like a poor little victim, someone totally innocent whom fate has thrust into monstrous scenarios. Other times I laugh. No not the sweet one, but a real malicious kind of sneer-meets-laugh thing, as if after a long and hard struggle the target of my wrath is right in front of me and I begin picturing what exactly I am gonna do with it. Then there are the times when I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. These are the moments I just while around, groaning and moaning, desperately trying to find something in this whole blue world that would interest me, or at least get me through the ordeal.
Initially I thought it would go away with time. But in actuality, if its possible, it seems to be growing with each passing moment. And I tell you folks, it is pretty complicated, explaining to your parents exactly why you were smiling uncontrollably when all you were doing was chatting with some old friends. Or why sometimes you just loose it in completely unprovoked situations. But most of all, dear reader, what is really tough is the grief you have to live with, the insurmountably dull melancholy of life without your friends. I tell you what. It is now that I have realized what 'losing a part of yourself' actually feels like, I can safely say that ages and ages of bards and writers who have touched upon this subject are not exaggerating even a bit.
With this literary eye-opener I bid adieu, and raise my glass for a last toast, "to friendship and beyond"!
Cheers.
Go 'Pidgeon-hole' Go!
Hey all!
Just a quick reminder that as of now felinesmile.blogspot.com...that is this blog has overtaken some chinese webpage in the google's page ranking system when searched for the phrase 'felinesmile'!!
Yay!
So if you people forget about the url (as in universal resource locator), I don't want to hear any excuses... just google for 'felinesmile'..
Chao
Just a quick reminder that as of now felinesmile.blogspot.com...that is this blog has overtaken some chinese webpage in the google's page ranking system when searched for the phrase 'felinesmile'!!
Yay!
So if you people forget about the url (as in universal resource locator), I don't want to hear any excuses... just google for 'felinesmile'..
Chao
Fallen Soldier
I raise my hand up against the sun
and watch the moist crimson beads
drip down to the parched earth,
feeding it with its liquid vitality
and becoming one with the blood of all my commorades
whose carcasses lie strewn about the battlefield.
Oh God! Where did I sin, I wonder
as I desperately try to patch up
whats left of my shredded heart.
The Dark angel, sensing that my time was near
swoops down and with a gentle, caring hand
scoops me up and ever so softly
kisses me on the forehead.
With the very last iota of my strength
I claw furiously
scratching her pearly skin to the core
"Bleed! Bleed! Bleed!...Wicked witch!
let me die happy
show me some sign of humanity
or at least some pain.
Let me know
that all of us didn't die in vain,
that the beauty we once loved
wasn't unattainably divine.
Let a dying man believe
that if he'd tried harder
he'd have achieved
his true purpose in life
the very reason he is dying."
But all she does is smile
bends down
and puts her lips to mine
"Leave, you'll never understand....just let it be"
Her unmistakable voice resonates within me.
And with that my vision blurs
my hand drops
and she closes my eyes
for the very last time.
and watch the moist crimson beads
drip down to the parched earth,
feeding it with its liquid vitality
and becoming one with the blood of all my commorades
whose carcasses lie strewn about the battlefield.
Oh God! Where did I sin, I wonder
as I desperately try to patch up
whats left of my shredded heart.
The Dark angel, sensing that my time was near
swoops down and with a gentle, caring hand
scoops me up and ever so softly
kisses me on the forehead.
With the very last iota of my strength
I claw furiously
scratching her pearly skin to the core
"Bleed! Bleed! Bleed!...Wicked witch!
let me die happy
show me some sign of humanity
or at least some pain.
Let me know
that all of us didn't die in vain,
that the beauty we once loved
wasn't unattainably divine.
Let a dying man believe
that if he'd tried harder
he'd have achieved
his true purpose in life
the very reason he is dying."
But all she does is smile
bends down
and puts her lips to mine
"Leave, you'll never understand....just let it be"
Her unmistakable voice resonates within me.
And with that my vision blurs
my hand drops
and she closes my eyes
for the very last time.
Does the internet know who I am?
Hey,
Was just going through the new posts of a friend's blog and found some quizzes and tests. Well, I took some. Check them out for yourself:
Danm it! Where are those seven???
Hmm...maybe I am living in an alternate reality where everything is not as it seems...or something.
Addictive content in my personality is 81%
Beware!!! people easily get addicted to me
Okay I am past expressions. I just can't deal with so much at a time, you know! So its your turn.......am I?
Or is this one also designed to make the quiz-taker go bonkers!
71%
Okay I concede....this one's not that bad. Actually! I do like blogging.
Oh by the way, the post where I found these and many more can be found here.
Was just going through the new posts of a friend's blog and found some quizzes and tests. Well, I took some. Check them out for yourself:
Lets101 Quizzes - Fun Quiz
Danm it! Where are those seven???
My sex appeal is 7.7 out of 10.
Ladies beware!!!
Ladies beware!!!
Lets101 Quizzes - Fun Quiz
Hmm...maybe I am living in an alternate reality where everything is not as it seems...or something.
Addictive content in my personality is 81%
Beware!!! people easily get addicted to me
Lets101 Quizzes - online fun quiz
Okay I am past expressions. I just can't deal with so much at a time, you know! So its your turn.......am I?
Or is this one also designed to make the quiz-taker go bonkers!
71%
Lets101 - Free Online Dating Network
Okay I concede....this one's not that bad. Actually! I do like blogging.
Oh by the way, the post where I found these and many more can be found here.
Your First Song
Your first song
came as a sweet blow of wind
and took my heart away in the end
it was soothing to my ears
as while listening to it my heart shifted gears
it was like a sweet journey of life
for which I was waiting since while
it was like those mushy grains of sand
which flows everywhere on waves' command
it was like a star-studded moonlit night
when it showers on us its glowing delight
it was like a smooth foggy morning
when dew drops kisses the leaves in the spring
it was like an innocent aroma of soil after rain
which I wish to hear again, and again and again
your first song was just a punishment for you
but for me it was a lifetime dream come true
your song was a music to my ears
which I am not gonna forget for infinite years
now I wish for one thing dear
keep that sweet voice close to my ear.
The above piece is a soft, heart-warming piece of art by a very close friend of mine. Going through it people, you would be hard pressed to believe me if I tell you, that its just his second poem!
came as a sweet blow of wind
and took my heart away in the end
it was soothing to my ears
as while listening to it my heart shifted gears
it was like a sweet journey of life
for which I was waiting since while
it was like those mushy grains of sand
which flows everywhere on waves' command
it was like a star-studded moonlit night
when it showers on us its glowing delight
it was like a smooth foggy morning
when dew drops kisses the leaves in the spring
it was like an innocent aroma of soil after rain
which I wish to hear again, and again and again
your first song was just a punishment for you
but for me it was a lifetime dream come true
your song was a music to my ears
which I am not gonna forget for infinite years
now I wish for one thing dear
keep that sweet voice close to my ear.
The above piece is a soft, heart-warming piece of art by a very close friend of mine. Going through it people, you would be hard pressed to believe me if I tell you, that its just his second poem!
Beautiful Lamentations
As the coach slowly chugged away,
seperating us with the vice-strong grip of certainty,
all I could do was stay,
as I died inside and our life together flashed by in front of me.
I guess it all started the day I first met you.
Do you remember that sudden downpour I stupidly dragged both of us into,
or that simple papier-mache face that I said I had made for you?
Do you still believe that my imitations are funny?
And will you smile, thinking of me when the days get a bit sunny?
Will you cherish those frequent trips to the beach,
and how we used to prepare 'the devil's speech'?
Will you think of me when you speak the magical words "I do",
and do you still count the number of times we've said "me too"?
God! I never knew that I would miss you so much.
I wish I had told you... but I think you know it as such.
There never was a sadder moment in my life,
than the time I had to stand and watch you cry.
But when I saw my pain reflected in your tear-streaked eyes,
I knew that my time with you would not end with these goodbyes.
Though now it would seem like there's this big void inside,
I'm sure we'll meet again, somewhere, sometime.
When you left, I know you felt something inside you snap
and which I'm sure you'll never know how to patch.
But you just hold on baby doll like you always do,
because I tell you now, I'll always be there for you.
seperating us with the vice-strong grip of certainty,
all I could do was stay,
as I died inside and our life together flashed by in front of me.
I guess it all started the day I first met you.
Do you remember that sudden downpour I stupidly dragged both of us into,
or that simple papier-mache face that I said I had made for you?
Do you still believe that my imitations are funny?
And will you smile, thinking of me when the days get a bit sunny?
Will you cherish those frequent trips to the beach,
and how we used to prepare 'the devil's speech'?
Will you think of me when you speak the magical words "I do",
and do you still count the number of times we've said "me too"?
God! I never knew that I would miss you so much.
I wish I had told you... but I think you know it as such.
There never was a sadder moment in my life,
than the time I had to stand and watch you cry.
But when I saw my pain reflected in your tear-streaked eyes,
I knew that my time with you would not end with these goodbyes.
Though now it would seem like there's this big void inside,
I'm sure we'll meet again, somewhere, sometime.
When you left, I know you felt something inside you snap
and which I'm sure you'll never know how to patch.
But you just hold on baby doll like you always do,
because I tell you now, I'll always be there for you.
I walk alone
Another day dawns
and life goes on
as I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
The trees, the rose
and the shimmering rainbow
merrily dance around
but I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
Our paths cross
my world is rocked
violins and harps
bid me to ask
why I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
Those eyes, that smile
& beautiful eyebrows
bountiful package, puckered lips
sexy denims, flowery whiff
and yet I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
Now we walk the path
barely a feet apart
I close in for the kill
but then she turns
and disarms by will
now I stalk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
I switch to plan B
and conduct a felony
stride up to her
and ask
why I stalk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
Shocked and awed
she politely denied
and now I sigh alone
a ghost, a shadow.
and life goes on
as I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
The trees, the rose
and the shimmering rainbow
merrily dance around
but I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
Our paths cross
my world is rocked
violins and harps
bid me to ask
why I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
Those eyes, that smile
& beautiful eyebrows
bountiful package, puckered lips
sexy denims, flowery whiff
and yet I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
Now we walk the path
barely a feet apart
I close in for the kill
but then she turns
and disarms by will
now I stalk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
I switch to plan B
and conduct a felony
stride up to her
and ask
why I stalk alone
a ghost, a shadow.
Shocked and awed
she politely denied
and now I sigh alone
a ghost, a shadow.
This piece, long lost in the multitudes of files accumulating on my (fictitious) desk, was finally rescued by a very dear friend and a fellow blogger. Hence, I thought about dedicating this one to her or something, but now I think it really does not stand upto her charisma. So I just present it here....as nothing but a random collection of words.
Life's scented bullshit
The past month of my life has been frantically topsy-turvy at best. What with all the exams and interviews and associated preparations(ya I know!) and what not, there just seemed so little time! It is only after its all over that I feel there's this big void in my life that I just can't seem to fill up with anything. I know male chauvinism demands that I be 'the man' and take it all up and basically don't be a wuss about it, but sorry, I'm just not that kinda guy! Its been what, like months and I still rue the fact that I have no girlfriend, although I must say all I did in my previous relationship can still be done with my ex without anyone batting an eyebrow. But it just seems wrong in so many weird ways that even though my ex has been so good to me, I just can't bring myself to do it. But I digress. What got me all tippy-tappy on the keyboard of my laptop was the stark contrast I found myself viciously stuck in. Maybe its the part I must play in the game of our holy Lord or whatever and am unable to see the bigger picture, but let me tell you, "Dude, it sucks!"
When I embarked upon the trip to manipal, the university town of India, I had this really awful premonition that somehow this trip is gonna sting in ways I can't even begin to prophetize. Now its a beautiful place to be and I find no logic or reason in holding back if I get an opportunity to do so. But let me tell you dear reader, the charm of the place, or at least a part of it, was lost upon me for the simple and sordid fact that I was single and alone. Oh how I longed for a single familiar face in the crowd, a long-lost friend from the past maybe, or even a friendly new one, a face friendly enough to be the foundation of a great new relationship. That there be someone in the crowd out there who, for all my shortcomings, would help me walk the same road as so many other couples right in front of me, nimbly holding hands, oblivious to the world. Alas! all my wishing and wondering apart, I was still the ('cute?') little kitten stuck all alone in the rain, purring away in the darkness. Of course the trip was a short one, but what comfort am I supposed to find in the fact that I will soon be in the company of my cell mate (that's what I call my room now) who is irrevocably love-smitten, that he is in that wonderful phase in a relationship where anything and everything not involving the better half of his life seems trivial and frivolous. Now for the record I hold nothing against him and am happy for him, possibly even over-reacting a bit, but understand dear reader that being in the same room, it is not easy to ignore someone yacking away 24x7 on his mobile with his dear one, knowing that you could have been so much happier than what you are now, if only you had kept your pie-hole clamped shut like you always did. However I hold no regrets and still maintain (as has been certified by many others) that it was the right thing to do.
Finally for all those of you wondering why, in heaven's sake, am I rambling about my life on this celluloid media, this two dimensional catacomb of sorts that I call my blog. Well, what can I say except that again it is just a cheap replacement for that special someone, with whom I would like to cuddle together in front of the small warm fire and talk about the various ups and downs that mortals call life.
When I embarked upon the trip to manipal, the university town of India, I had this really awful premonition that somehow this trip is gonna sting in ways I can't even begin to prophetize. Now its a beautiful place to be and I find no logic or reason in holding back if I get an opportunity to do so. But let me tell you dear reader, the charm of the place, or at least a part of it, was lost upon me for the simple and sordid fact that I was single and alone. Oh how I longed for a single familiar face in the crowd, a long-lost friend from the past maybe, or even a friendly new one, a face friendly enough to be the foundation of a great new relationship. That there be someone in the crowd out there who, for all my shortcomings, would help me walk the same road as so many other couples right in front of me, nimbly holding hands, oblivious to the world. Alas! all my wishing and wondering apart, I was still the ('cute?') little kitten stuck all alone in the rain, purring away in the darkness. Of course the trip was a short one, but what comfort am I supposed to find in the fact that I will soon be in the company of my cell mate (that's what I call my room now) who is irrevocably love-smitten, that he is in that wonderful phase in a relationship where anything and everything not involving the better half of his life seems trivial and frivolous. Now for the record I hold nothing against him and am happy for him, possibly even over-reacting a bit, but understand dear reader that being in the same room, it is not easy to ignore someone yacking away 24x7 on his mobile with his dear one, knowing that you could have been so much happier than what you are now, if only you had kept your pie-hole clamped shut like you always did. However I hold no regrets and still maintain (as has been certified by many others) that it was the right thing to do.
Finally for all those of you wondering why, in heaven's sake, am I rambling about my life on this celluloid media, this two dimensional catacomb of sorts that I call my blog. Well, what can I say except that again it is just a cheap replacement for that special someone, with whom I would like to cuddle together in front of the small warm fire and talk about the various ups and downs that mortals call life.
Bursting with thoughts!
I've always considered myself to be a dynamic sort of person. So when the number of hours in my normal day began to stretch out in unmanageable proportions, it came as a personal shocker. Initially I was overjoyed. I started doing all those things that I wanted to do but never actually got around doing. I began to read, I started learning the guitar, even played around with gardening for a while. Time passed slowly as I hopscotched from one activity to another with the impunity of a madman. But even in this maniac frenzy, one eventually begins to acknowledge the obvious fact that there is just so much one can do with his/her time. And surely, the days loaded with activity soon gave way to days loaded with....time.
Its only then that you realize how the completely abstract notion of two hands circumnavigating twelve numbers on a surface holds you in an iron grip. You begin noticing really minor things like how the seconds hand vibrates every time it moves, or that if you concentrate carefully you can see the individual blades of the rotating fan. It is in these times when you start wishing for an unexpected exam to pop up, or your boss to call upon you for an extra shift or something, just so that you have something to do. And it was in one of these maddeningly slow time zones, when I started looking for opportunities to score, initially just to pass time, and eventually out of habit. Now I am not one of those creepy guys always rushing head over heels to get a few eye-fulls, although I must confess, I've taken my chances now and then. What I am talking about is that I minutely scrutinise my past, and to some part fantasize about the future, occasionally running into random alternate parallel universes too. I try to make a note of all the opportunities I missed, while simultaneously preparing for various fictitious scenarios as well, gauging for myself where my responses stood on a scale of say 10, and what would have been a better response.
Personally I've always thought of these moments as moments of introspection. Time when I would analyse my past and try to learn from it in hope for a better future. I must say that this line of thought gave me a certain amount of cover when my self-belief would stagger under heavy crossfire. After all, where do we stand as individuals and as a species if we altogether lose the ability to learn from our mistakes? Even the humblest of animals demonstrate this very basic quality. It is indeed, one may say, a bare necessity to ensure survival. But then again, the very essence of a species is the variety in it: The most basic game of mix and match in which nature toys with the numerous dials reading the various qualities of an individual. All that is left for me to say is that every individual is near perfect in its own way, working ever so hard towards the ultimate goal in life so aptly summarised as...'survival of the fittest'.
Its only then that you realize how the completely abstract notion of two hands circumnavigating twelve numbers on a surface holds you in an iron grip. You begin noticing really minor things like how the seconds hand vibrates every time it moves, or that if you concentrate carefully you can see the individual blades of the rotating fan. It is in these times when you start wishing for an unexpected exam to pop up, or your boss to call upon you for an extra shift or something, just so that you have something to do. And it was in one of these maddeningly slow time zones, when I started looking for opportunities to score, initially just to pass time, and eventually out of habit. Now I am not one of those creepy guys always rushing head over heels to get a few eye-fulls, although I must confess, I've taken my chances now and then. What I am talking about is that I minutely scrutinise my past, and to some part fantasize about the future, occasionally running into random alternate parallel universes too. I try to make a note of all the opportunities I missed, while simultaneously preparing for various fictitious scenarios as well, gauging for myself where my responses stood on a scale of say 10, and what would have been a better response.
Personally I've always thought of these moments as moments of introspection. Time when I would analyse my past and try to learn from it in hope for a better future. I must say that this line of thought gave me a certain amount of cover when my self-belief would stagger under heavy crossfire. After all, where do we stand as individuals and as a species if we altogether lose the ability to learn from our mistakes? Even the humblest of animals demonstrate this very basic quality. It is indeed, one may say, a bare necessity to ensure survival. But then again, the very essence of a species is the variety in it: The most basic game of mix and match in which nature toys with the numerous dials reading the various qualities of an individual. All that is left for me to say is that every individual is near perfect in its own way, working ever so hard towards the ultimate goal in life so aptly summarised as...'survival of the fittest'.
Will I 'eat' you?
Seriously am at a loss as to who is the more nut-job, psycho-freak of the two- the one who made this, or the ones(including me) who actually attempt it???
Take the test by clicking the picture below to find out for yourself if you would eat your buddies in a blizzard?
Anyways, breathe easy my friends! Here is my score:
26%
Until next time.
UPDATE: My roomie got a score of 45% !! So people please note, I am relatively safer to be with.
Gulp! I just realised, my roomie poses a potential threat to me!
Take the test by clicking the picture below to find out for yourself if you would eat your buddies in a blizzard?
Anyways, breathe easy my friends! Here is my score:
26%
Until next time.
UPDATE: My roomie got a score of 45% !! So people please note, I am relatively safer to be with.
Gulp! I just realised, my roomie poses a potential threat to me!
The Stranger
I tread those once familiar dark alleys, floating like a ghost, flickering in and out of the minuscule auras of the multiple lights fighting ever so hard the long lost battle against the enveloping darkness. A battered and rather distressing magazine in my hand, its dog-eared pages occasionally catching the wind and fluttering a bit. All my senses acutely tuned to catch the slightest of whispers heralding the onset of any unexpected change in the direction of the silent wind. The magazine itself was worthless, bought at a cheap bookstore, where it had been gathering dust for the better part of a year. What did matter was the all-important piece of paper held somewhere among those tattered pages.
Almost effortlessly, my mind drifted across the line separating the past and the present, and leisurely began sifting through the memories of the week past. What I had gone through to get my hands on that piece of paper, whom I had to endure, whom I had to leave behind, the pale man with a pronounced scar across his temple, those strikingly deep eyes of the beautiful lady in black, all came back to me as if in a trance. Floating on the ethereal waves of such thoughts, my mind began singing a tune so beautiful, I started questioning the very need to leave this world for the real one. After all, who is to decide what is real and what is not?
But something was amiss. I could still feel. I could feel the air rushing through my nose, assaulting the very basic of my senses with myriad odours. I could feel my legs tramping the gravel underneath, attacking it savagely with military urgency. And beyond this, I could still feel an external presence. A surreal being urging me to come to. Unwillingly more and more of my senses started acknowledging the presence, as if drawn against their wishes and those of their master's by the enticing songs of the sirens. How can someone so gently and yet so firmly assume command of all my senses? I was baffled beyond thought, but more than that, my pride was hurt. Bracing myself, I vehemently opposed the intruder with all my will. I broke off all contacts with the real world and wanted to drift back into the beautiful abyss I was enjoying so much just a short while ago. Somehow, the stranger managed to hold on, trudging along my thoughts, even if just by the very edges of his fingernails.
Grudgingly I gave up, conceding defeat to this new kind of weaponry. My eyes swam back into focus, instantly noticing that the world had dimmed around me. The chaotic sounds of the daily life hitting me hard with one giant pop, as if I had just breached the as yet unknown sound barrier. My mind performed a cursory check, ensuring that none of my senses were left behind. And eventually I noticed the reason for my vehement and silent war, the very reason I am compelled to write this post. A smile stole across his pockmarked face, as if he was seeing the insides of my mind on a giant 70 mm screen. He waved a filthy piece of parchment in my face and gently whispered, "You dropped this". By the time I realised what had just happened, he was gone, lost in the milling crowd. Forever.
Almost effortlessly, my mind drifted across the line separating the past and the present, and leisurely began sifting through the memories of the week past. What I had gone through to get my hands on that piece of paper, whom I had to endure, whom I had to leave behind, the pale man with a pronounced scar across his temple, those strikingly deep eyes of the beautiful lady in black, all came back to me as if in a trance. Floating on the ethereal waves of such thoughts, my mind began singing a tune so beautiful, I started questioning the very need to leave this world for the real one. After all, who is to decide what is real and what is not?
But something was amiss. I could still feel. I could feel the air rushing through my nose, assaulting the very basic of my senses with myriad odours. I could feel my legs tramping the gravel underneath, attacking it savagely with military urgency. And beyond this, I could still feel an external presence. A surreal being urging me to come to. Unwillingly more and more of my senses started acknowledging the presence, as if drawn against their wishes and those of their master's by the enticing songs of the sirens. How can someone so gently and yet so firmly assume command of all my senses? I was baffled beyond thought, but more than that, my pride was hurt. Bracing myself, I vehemently opposed the intruder with all my will. I broke off all contacts with the real world and wanted to drift back into the beautiful abyss I was enjoying so much just a short while ago. Somehow, the stranger managed to hold on, trudging along my thoughts, even if just by the very edges of his fingernails.
Grudgingly I gave up, conceding defeat to this new kind of weaponry. My eyes swam back into focus, instantly noticing that the world had dimmed around me. The chaotic sounds of the daily life hitting me hard with one giant pop, as if I had just breached the as yet unknown sound barrier. My mind performed a cursory check, ensuring that none of my senses were left behind. And eventually I noticed the reason for my vehement and silent war, the very reason I am compelled to write this post. A smile stole across his pockmarked face, as if he was seeing the insides of my mind on a giant 70 mm screen. He waved a filthy piece of parchment in my face and gently whispered, "You dropped this". By the time I realised what had just happened, he was gone, lost in the milling crowd. Forever.
I am what I am, and I like what I am.
Change is imbibed into the very fabric of our existence. So is the inherent resistance to it. It is through change that we have come about on this planet and it is only natural that we fear what too much of it can bring about. On the other hand, humans constantly strive to change, to evolve, to ensure the continuity of their gene pool by creating a better model of themselves. Life then emerges out to be nothing more than a delicate state of balance, a tightrope walker peering cautiously on either side of the rope. Even the slightest imbalance, the smallest quiver can set the ball rolling on a cataclysmic and possibly catastrophic chain of events.
But is it really that bad to be different? Is conformity to the established notions of what we should be and what we should do so binding in nature that society periodically seeks out and prunes these unruly branches of the human evolution tree, ignoring the fact that we are what we are today because of these people. People who were different, who thought different. People who believed that they were meant for bigger and better things. It is these people who form the essence of a species, the very factor which separates a naturally evolved group of organisms from the multitude of artificially created ones. They provide the society a glimpse of things to come, an opportunity for others to adapt, to embrace the fact that change is the ultimate truth of life and try as they may, they can do nothing about it. But society nonetheless mocks these heralders of change, trods upon them, and treats them as nothing but a bunch of misfits.
The most important thing that remains to be realised is that life is not about whether or not one can fit into one of the many stereotypical moulds, but rather enjoying living with yourself. One needs to delve into the spirit of self and analyse exactly what makes them 'different', and whether or not they are happy with it. After all, why are we alive if not to ensure the natural evolutionary progression? These small questions are those that give meaning to life and the answers to these are what define it. Nirvana in the truest sense can only be achieved when one finds peace in the soul, accepts one's self image, and becomes indifferent to the taunts and jibes of the world. The mantra of choice then becomes, "I am what I am, and I like what I am."
But is it really that bad to be different? Is conformity to the established notions of what we should be and what we should do so binding in nature that society periodically seeks out and prunes these unruly branches of the human evolution tree, ignoring the fact that we are what we are today because of these people. People who were different, who thought different. People who believed that they were meant for bigger and better things. It is these people who form the essence of a species, the very factor which separates a naturally evolved group of organisms from the multitude of artificially created ones. They provide the society a glimpse of things to come, an opportunity for others to adapt, to embrace the fact that change is the ultimate truth of life and try as they may, they can do nothing about it. But society nonetheless mocks these heralders of change, trods upon them, and treats them as nothing but a bunch of misfits.
The most important thing that remains to be realised is that life is not about whether or not one can fit into one of the many stereotypical moulds, but rather enjoying living with yourself. One needs to delve into the spirit of self and analyse exactly what makes them 'different', and whether or not they are happy with it. After all, why are we alive if not to ensure the natural evolutionary progression? These small questions are those that give meaning to life and the answers to these are what define it. Nirvana in the truest sense can only be achieved when one finds peace in the soul, accepts one's self image, and becomes indifferent to the taunts and jibes of the world. The mantra of choice then becomes, "I am what I am, and I like what I am."
Indian Mona Lisa
An Indian artist redraws many masterpieces (including the Mona Lisa) as a tribute to the european masters of the arts:
Best unseen movies of 2007
Hi.
Came across "The best 19 movies you didn't see in 2007" here and was proud to find that I have actually seen a couple of them. However for the benefit of other stray souls, I provide here a quick peek at the titles. Details can be found here.
Well, can't wait to know how many you people have seen?
Came across "The best 19 movies you didn't see in 2007" here and was proud to find that I have actually seen a couple of them. However for the benefit of other stray souls, I provide here a quick peek at the titles. Details can be found here.
- Across the universe
- Air guitar nation
- Angel-A
- The assassination of Jesse James by Coward Robert Ford
- Death at a funeral
- Delirious
- Everything's gone green
- Fido
- The go-getter
- Gone baby gone
- Grindhouse
- The host
- Interview
- King of california
- The king of kong: A fistful of quarters
- The lookout
- The nines
- Sunshine
- Talk to me
Well, can't wait to know how many you people have seen?
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