LIFE


Sometimes we need to make life-changing decisions. No one else can make them for you. And living by the consequences of such decisions is called 'your life'. As a parent, all one can really hope for is that by the time such decisions need to be made by their sons and daughters, they would have shaped the clay pot, so to say, to the best of their abilities, that their children would know whats best for themselves. After that, all they can do is step back and see how well the clay pot functions.

But what happens when the parents are reluctant to let go of your image as a young kid in need of guidance? Does it shield you from the responsibility of making these life-defining decisions? Can you blindly follow the orders of a general, knowing that inside, your heart is screaming out to do what you feel is the right thing to do? And more importantly, would it be your life you would be living if all you do is try to follow the wishes of others?

Being fair to the parents, they just want what's best for their children. But the thing they should ask themselves is, are they doing it the right way? I believe that no one, absolutely no one, in the whole world has found the correct answer to the question of how should life be lived? We are all trying our hand at answering it, and in the process come up with a formula that works in some cases, but fails in others. Agreed that the ratio of success to failure varies in all cases, but its somewhere in the middle for most of them. In such a case, how would an individual know how to get up if he/she never has to take a fall? Of course the near and dear ones can lecture at lengths about the pitfalls and lessons learnt from their lives. But that doesn't work half as well as making those mistakes ourselves and learning from them.

Therefore, a solemn request from the progeny to the progenitor, "You did a great job in the time you had to mould the clay. Now, in the baking furnace, its time to try my hand at living my life. You are always welcome to guide and suggest. That's your right as the clay potter. But the decisions to be made are mine to make. Please try to understand and help me do justice to my life. Let me play the dice, let me stumble if I have to, let me learn to get back on my feet, and by doing so, you would help me walk my life with my head held high."

I Am Nobody

- by Outlines of Shades


Its nobody
who touches my heart,
Its nobody
who feels my part,
Its nobody
who wipes my tears,
Its nobody
who holds me in fear,
Its nobody
from the start,
Its nobody
to mend my broken heart.

Several tears
I weep in darkness
in front of a silent mirror
choking in silence.

Its me
sitting alone now,
Its me
somewhere somehow,
Its me
lost in the darkness,
Its me
clawing in the recess,
Its me
falling apart,
Its me
dying of a broken heart.

Makin' Sense



Someone once asked me in an interview, "If that is the number of visitors actually hitting your blog, why do you have it anyway?"
To which I replied, "I have it because I love to write, because it is somewhere I can share what I feel, because it is someplace on the internet I can really call mine. How many people read it and what they think about it....well, that's just someone in the stands shouting out to the real players, about how to do their job better."

Looking back at those days, I guess that was one of the very few answers that actually came from my heart. You know, the ones that guarantee to impress the interviewer into getting you through the horrid cycles of evaluation and re-evaluation.... Sigh!

Well, things change and here I am, thankful to all of you for having a decent enough crowd breezing through this blog. It would be better though if most of you would actually stay for a while and read stuff, but I guess I ain't one of those guys who put up shit and still manage to have a menagerie of mongrels lickin' up everything with a slurp.

Its good in a way. I can stay focused. I can stay real. This place still distinctly belongs to me, is about what I feel, and is put up in a way I want it to be. Kinda like what someone close to me once said: "My life...My way!"

Can I add, "My Blog...My say!"?

Ciao

The Agony of a Heavy Heart


I walk alone
empty corridors
echoing my rubber soles.
Dead weight of
the pistol in hand
benumbs my senses
its lethal power
quivering, yet still
throbbing heart
restless, but at peace
in ghastly silence
expels a serene breath.

I walk across
the bench where
Haley and I
conquered calculus,
across the court where
had shot some hoops
with the Scott brothers.
Laden feet dragged on
reverberating, shattering
swishy whispers
where Brooke cheered on
and her smell lingers.

"Mea Culpa!"
chill, piercing sonic
slashes away
the shiny lights
with breezy sway.
I look down
and there I lay
head twisted in agony,
mouth agape,
the wound drippin' crimson,
exonerating, but
draining the vitality away.

Words And Moments



Words,
words that hurt
words that heal
words that are for you
words that are for me
words that I said
words that were meant to be
words that shake the ground
words that are surreal
words that touch
words that make you feel.

Moments,
moments that mar
moments that mark
moments that flow away
moments that come again
moments that open your eyes
moments that make you smile
moments that fly by
moments that pave the way
moments that are precious
moments that are just for us.

Struck out lines of incomplete thoughts

Another day, another fight. Another bag of hurt feelings for each one of us. Another day irrevocably lost and memory marred by us. Things happened, words were exchanged and I said the fatal words somewhere in between. And so I am here, sitting on my bed with this notebook for company. She won't talk to me as long as I don't do what she asks me to. That's bad considering she has asked me to dig up, re-remember and document each and every bad memory, hurting looks, scaring remarks or in short anything that has hurt me in the duration of our relationship of 2+ years. now I tried explaining to her, to make her understand the futility of the exercise, but to no avail. Yes for arguments sake you may say that maybe it would help her understand and avoid her mistakes, help her to hurt me lesser. But that's a long shot with the risks too daunting to be attempted. Moreover if that be the objective, I prefer to pass on and talk about such information in a piecemeal format, not jotting down everything in a bulk. Now the risk, one of many anyways. Forgetfulness is a bane, but in some situations its also the biggest boon. Things happened, I get hurt, I bleed but then I also heal. Yes some cases leave scars - some longer than normal. But when thought in an overall scheme, I prefer to leave all bad memories behind & collect the good ones. Its not easy, but I can bet it, its much more difficult for her. Of course I may not be giving her enough credit for her efforts but this is simply too big a risk for me to take willingly. So I decide, I'll make a list all right, but of all the happy moments that I can remember so that both of us have something to cherish, something to treasure...
So where do we start? I guess the beginning would be a good place to do that. The first time I saw the girl people in college used to call 'Jassi'. I used to wonder why. Yes its about all good in a person of somewhat non-ideal looks. Well thats okay but when I saw her, I thought she's not at all anywhere near the person she's being compared to. And then I went on to wonder, doesn't it hurt her feeling and emotions. Little did I know that she does get hurt pretty easily but only from people she allowed close to her. She told me recently, she used to feel good infact, if not indifferent to it. Well, back to the scene when I first saw her. I was sitting with same friends on one of our college lawn benches when she walked across the scene, kinda in slow motion as I observed her yellow suit (more inclined, like 90%, towards the green one) had a handbag or something of that sort on one shoulder and was walking straight across, unmindful of the other people around in the lawn, in a world of her own. fast forward a few months and a few occasional interactions and we were standing near block C staircase (although I still feel its block A). She was in a white suit with little pink flowers on it. Her hairstyle was different and I guess thats why had'nt heard of the 'Jassi' comparison for sometime. We had had a small walk chatting on various topics that I can't recall and while parting I wished her "Happy Valentine day". Apparently, that was something other guys were afraid to do. It didn't seem a big deal to me back then or even now for that matter. But it is a cherished memory nonetheless.

Silence

Silently she screams
bleedin' inside out
unspoken fears,
unleashing
the beast within,
weeping
deadly tears.

Silently she sleeps
screeching
unforgiving nightmares,
searching within,
screening
destructive sears.

Silently she sees
despairing within
broken dreams,
excusing
scathing within,
remembering
indelible years.