What sort of day should be the last day of an year? Should it be a loose mix of bygone days? When I look back, I see it as a white cloudless sky, as it we see sometimes at high noon; a mere plain white space, where I forgot or neglected to fill my desires. I Could have added a few green spots. But I had left the canvas white!It was an year I lived on the edge of Hope, hoping a hopeful next day, which hadn't happened until.
The ones who came near instilled furthermore of hope, the ones who have had gone away taught me to Hope for a few better things. Some made me smile along, some made my tears froze. I did laugh, but I couldn't cry; when ever i tried to--I have had seen my tears forming into a large ball of blurry fumes, which smothered inside my head, heating it up as a brew. It made me bear the suffocation more than I'd been suffering from the conflicts within. I almost felt my eyes were burning to heap me into an unholy ash.
2009 was an eventful year of unhappening days! In this last ticking moment I only have Hopes to carry forward. What better thing do I have to carry along? Nothing. I'm leaping into the new hours with same old hopes. Thank You 2009, may you rest in peace.
.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
H.o.p.e Goddess.
Hope is my goddess.
I harmonized optimism, passion and enthusiasm.
Now she's the one who I pray my woes.
I submit myself to her.
But how long should I wait to see her?
Is she omnipotent in me?
She lifts my acumen to see the next.
She is the only friend of mine who inspires me to see beyond the chartered sky.
She is the wave I'm searching in the new shore.
She is the belief I hold dear to to see my dreams smile.
Hoping to meet her soon.
.
I harmonized optimism, passion and enthusiasm.
Now she's the one who I pray my woes.
I submit myself to her.
But how long should I wait to see her?
Is she omnipotent in me?
She lifts my acumen to see the next.
She is the only friend of mine who inspires me to see beyond the chartered sky.
She is the wave I'm searching in the new shore.
She is the belief I hold dear to to see my dreams smile.
Hoping to meet her soon.
.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
?
Do you own the wind?
What speciality you boast to be not you?
Had your nerve dried up? Has it gone out of blood?
What better air do you breathe?
What better emotions do you feel?
If it is your arrogance to defy everything you dislike, I pity you.
Go wherever you want, go where your mind crave for,
go that extra mile where you would find new shining doors.
But when on a day, if you ever care to look back the road travelled,
you would perhaps see a few unfaded footprints with some names' inscribed.
Be prepared to hide your tears that day.
.
What speciality you boast to be not you?
Had your nerve dried up? Has it gone out of blood?
What better air do you breathe?
What better emotions do you feel?
If it is your arrogance to defy everything you dislike, I pity you.
Go wherever you want, go where your mind crave for,
go that extra mile where you would find new shining doors.
But when on a day, if you ever care to look back the road travelled,
you would perhaps see a few unfaded footprints with some names' inscribed.
Be prepared to hide your tears that day.
.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Good morning!
On what basis we see dreams?
Is there anything logical in it or
is it illogical as we all are?
Isn't it a lucid uncertainty?
I do find it somewhat like being trapped in a dune,
overly blurred in its sandy whirlwind.
The staggering move we make to find the crossroads, become more hazardous.
We feel the heat of our blood inside our belly.
Sleeping, We all sleep inside our dreams!
But when we wake up, we rise to a greater reality of greeting another day,
whether we wish to make it as ours or not,liberated from a dream!
We see on more morning. Is it a Good morning?
live and find before next dream calls you to sleep.
.
Is there anything logical in it or
is it illogical as we all are?
Isn't it a lucid uncertainty?
I do find it somewhat like being trapped in a dune,
overly blurred in its sandy whirlwind.
The staggering move we make to find the crossroads, become more hazardous.
We feel the heat of our blood inside our belly.
Sleeping, We all sleep inside our dreams!
But when we wake up, we rise to a greater reality of greeting another day,
whether we wish to make it as ours or not,liberated from a dream!
We see on more morning. Is it a Good morning?
live and find before next dream calls you to sleep.
.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Blurry stare.
Thoughts being messed up in the mind made me unanswerable to any.
Do thoughts overblown make us haughty?
I feel like one among the wind blown dry leaves, in a gloomy dark alley.
Where to I’m being carried away?
Am I deprived my own existence?
Does the flying cluster of skylarks have their own existence they search?
A woman in dark blue cloak makes me run, run and make do more of it.
She is my desire.
She is not letting me to sleep, Even though I sleep opening my eyes.
The slipped away luck of mine stares at me helplessly.
The Luck is crying.
I’m sitting lame hoping in the hope.
I see a large plume of smoke slowly covering me.
.
Do thoughts overblown make us haughty?
I feel like one among the wind blown dry leaves, in a gloomy dark alley.
Where to I’m being carried away?
Am I deprived my own existence?
Does the flying cluster of skylarks have their own existence they search?
A woman in dark blue cloak makes me run, run and make do more of it.
She is my desire.
She is not letting me to sleep, Even though I sleep opening my eyes.
The slipped away luck of mine stares at me helplessly.
The Luck is crying.
I’m sitting lame hoping in the hope.
I see a large plume of smoke slowly covering me.
.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The Shape of sound.
She went away. She was a colour which I couldn’t name. All my imaginations of being in love suddenly came to its fall. I’d been transformed to an un-living soul who still continued to breathe. I began to see the day in shades of grey. Nothing moved. Everything has been frozen to no amiable reasons. I did change to a being of no emotions. I did start to love the night, for its sounds which were unfamiliar until.
I started to listen to tiniest of sounds which came from unknown directions. Every sound was loomed inside a dark veil unraveling its ethnic shape. “Shape of sound?” Do sounds have shape? “Yeah…, they have”. Have you been able to imagine the shape of small pebbles trembling on been heated above a large tin plate? What did you see (?)when you hear the crickets creek in the night? You’d be able to imagine a thousand different shapes if you start to imagine. No any different is I’m doing night after night.
When darkness spreads its magnificence, it's fiery large-sticky-scratchy wings; I go emotionless, a little less than an unmoving stoic. I lose myself in midway of my dreams, in which I see, I’m the King of little bees in thick tree who were storing honey, making small cubicles, politely adhering to the orders from their Queen. I stare to the Queen who has been severely harsh to her fellowmen, helpless to withstand my gaze spears she ignited herself to ash. I did see the shape of happiness in the cheer of freed honeybees fluttering around me .
One day I could also see the shape of moon’s sound. I was staring to the whimsical radiance; I did see a face inside (not the one you presume to be), I was clueless about who the stranger was. Swaying my visions through the fluttering leaves of cotton-bud tree, I fixed my gaze. I widened my eyes. From no where a dark cloud appeared, slowly it covered the beautiful face to which I was staring. I heard a loud thunder. It started to rain - a thick load for few minutes! Soon the dampened leaves shone back to moons luminance. This day, for me, the shape of moon’s sound was the thunder and its shape was rain. But where did the stranger go? Naïve!
Now I see the shape of my breath which lets me know that I’m no longer alone. What could be its shape? It’s none other than my shadow, the very me; even though I’m not able to see it at night. But I’m happy for it, the sounds and its different shapes. I’m living; I’m discovering the amorous relationship which I’ve been married to, the imagination to see the shape of sounds. Let me live for it until I fall to a new obsession, a little shapeless!
.
I started to listen to tiniest of sounds which came from unknown directions. Every sound was loomed inside a dark veil unraveling its ethnic shape. “Shape of sound?” Do sounds have shape? “Yeah…, they have”. Have you been able to imagine the shape of small pebbles trembling on been heated above a large tin plate? What did you see (?)when you hear the crickets creek in the night? You’d be able to imagine a thousand different shapes if you start to imagine. No any different is I’m doing night after night.
When darkness spreads its magnificence, it's fiery large-sticky-scratchy wings; I go emotionless, a little less than an unmoving stoic. I lose myself in midway of my dreams, in which I see, I’m the King of little bees in thick tree who were storing honey, making small cubicles, politely adhering to the orders from their Queen. I stare to the Queen who has been severely harsh to her fellowmen, helpless to withstand my gaze spears she ignited herself to ash. I did see the shape of happiness in the cheer of freed honeybees fluttering around me .
One day I could also see the shape of moon’s sound. I was staring to the whimsical radiance; I did see a face inside (not the one you presume to be), I was clueless about who the stranger was. Swaying my visions through the fluttering leaves of cotton-bud tree, I fixed my gaze. I widened my eyes. From no where a dark cloud appeared, slowly it covered the beautiful face to which I was staring. I heard a loud thunder. It started to rain - a thick load for few minutes! Soon the dampened leaves shone back to moons luminance. This day, for me, the shape of moon’s sound was the thunder and its shape was rain. But where did the stranger go? Naïve!
Now I see the shape of my breath which lets me know that I’m no longer alone. What could be its shape? It’s none other than my shadow, the very me; even though I’m not able to see it at night. But I’m happy for it, the sounds and its different shapes. I’m living; I’m discovering the amorous relationship which I’ve been married to, the imagination to see the shape of sounds. Let me live for it until I fall to a new obsession, a little shapeless!
.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Cleopatras’.
Whom did Cleopatra love? Was she sincere to Julius Caesar or to Marc Anthony? Even Cleopatra hadn’t had a clear answer. Is every woman turning to a D-day Cleopatra?
At the end of every joke shared, moments cherished and the last minute ice-cream scoops together; finally Why do every women fall to the Royal lineage of Cleopatra. Why do they follow the inspiring heredity that Cleopatra had left behind?
They've been in the even process to be in the Cleo’s shining cloak. They are faithful in being so. What else should they be doing? Knowingly or unknowingly every feminine cats finally smoothens their paws to jump the next the door.
I’ve been in touch with a group of such; ‘Cleopatras’’, who swing to and forth to the side they feel more comfortable to be comfy. Once I wondered “How can they do it?” Now I sigh in relief – “Who else can do it?”
.
At the end of every joke shared, moments cherished and the last minute ice-cream scoops together; finally Why do every women fall to the Royal lineage of Cleopatra. Why do they follow the inspiring heredity that Cleopatra had left behind?
They've been in the even process to be in the Cleo’s shining cloak. They are faithful in being so. What else should they be doing? Knowingly or unknowingly every feminine cats finally smoothens their paws to jump the next the door.
I’ve been in touch with a group of such; ‘Cleopatras’’, who swing to and forth to the side they feel more comfortable to be comfy. Once I wondered “How can they do it?” Now I sigh in relief – “Who else can do it?”
.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
A Sky to look upon!
Winds weren’t lazy,
So were the kites;
Clouds were dark,
Came down the rain,
The sky got changed,
A new painting was born.
Winds were chilly, but it was mild. When it touched my face directly, the only thing I could do was to close my eyes, and feel its brilliance in budding goose-pimples in me – the slenderest kiss of the wind. Shouldn’t you too experience the wind? These are little big things we shouldn’t afford to miss.
The sky was patterned with clouds which seemed as cotton balls exploded a moment before. At the terrace I sat staring into the sky. I don’t know, I get happiness when looking plainly into the sky. I believe, it’s the expanse where a painting is born every second by mere change of winds or flick of a bird’s wings.
A gaze into the sky - Isn’t it all we need to be amiable with our woes? At times it is all we needed: a sky to look upon!
.
So were the kites;
Clouds were dark,
Came down the rain,
The sky got changed,
A new painting was born.
Winds were chilly, but it was mild. When it touched my face directly, the only thing I could do was to close my eyes, and feel its brilliance in budding goose-pimples in me – the slenderest kiss of the wind. Shouldn’t you too experience the wind? These are little big things we shouldn’t afford to miss.
The sky was patterned with clouds which seemed as cotton balls exploded a moment before. At the terrace I sat staring into the sky. I don’t know, I get happiness when looking plainly into the sky. I believe, it’s the expanse where a painting is born every second by mere change of winds or flick of a bird’s wings.
A gaze into the sky - Isn’t it all we need to be amiable with our woes? At times it is all we needed: a sky to look upon!
.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
I’m wind, sea, desire and my self!
I’d love to come out from the wind to be the wind.
I’d love to be the sea of multiple hopes…
I’d like to be a star, a fireball of desires – a burning Illumination.
I’d love to win back my conscience by evolving back to self - Can I ?
I’ll travel the road made for me by me, even if I didn’t reach anywhere I desire; I’d be proud that I've built a road.
I'd be happy as for I was the wind, the sea, my desire and remained my self!
.
I’d love to be the sea of multiple hopes…
I’d like to be a star, a fireball of desires – a burning Illumination.
I’d love to win back my conscience by evolving back to self - Can I ?
I’ll travel the road made for me by me, even if I didn’t reach anywhere I desire; I’d be proud that I've built a road.
I'd be happy as for I was the wind, the sea, my desire and remained my self!
.
Monday, September 28, 2009
You may be.
How often do you think, there were someone to hold your hands?
Haven’t you thought their mere touch would heal you to new?
Have you had searched their face among the shining stars?
You may be.
When it rains, when the wind touches, when in the woods;
Or when the helium lamps glow somewhere in dark,
Have not you longed to be with them?
You may be.
How long would you wait? Should the seasons change?
Should the migratory birds cross back the seas?
Would you wait until your wait proves worthy?
You may be.
Is that day near? No prophets would ever answer.
If you want to know- seek.
Go out. Seek. Go on.
You may be!
.
Haven’t you thought their mere touch would heal you to new?
Have you had searched their face among the shining stars?
You may be.
When it rains, when the wind touches, when in the woods;
Or when the helium lamps glow somewhere in dark,
Have not you longed to be with them?
You may be.
How long would you wait? Should the seasons change?
Should the migratory birds cross back the seas?
Would you wait until your wait proves worthy?
You may be.
Is that day near? No prophets would ever answer.
If you want to know- seek.
Go out. Seek. Go on.
You may be!
.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
What have I written now?
What should I write?
Should I write about my pain,
When I’ve nothing else left in?
'hmm...' No, I won’t.
Why should my pain touch you – let it rest within me.
How do I become a person of no thoughts within no time?
Was I always been such?
How come I can be an empty bottle before half of me is filled?
Actually when my pain bleeds my pen oozes out,
But today it’s been frozen same as my thoughts.
Should I change my pen or myself?
What have I written now?
It may be - What I’ve not thought if I was not I’m now!
.
Should I write about my pain,
When I’ve nothing else left in?
'hmm...' No, I won’t.
Why should my pain touch you – let it rest within me.
How do I become a person of no thoughts within no time?
Was I always been such?
How come I can be an empty bottle before half of me is filled?
Actually when my pain bleeds my pen oozes out,
But today it’s been frozen same as my thoughts.
Should I change my pen or myself?
What have I written now?
It may be - What I’ve not thought if I was not I’m now!
.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Hope is the next shore.
For me,
Hope is the next shore.
I want to be there.
My dreams are again beyond...
But I’ve to be there,
There in the midst of hope and hope!
I’d be there; or I’d be drowned.
But there is only one thing I’m sure -
I’m not sailing back.
.
Hope is the next shore.
I want to be there.
My dreams are again beyond...
But I’ve to be there,
There in the midst of hope and hope!
I’d be there; or I’d be drowned.
But there is only one thing I’m sure -
I’m not sailing back.
.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Desires - a little steamy; a little unwavering.
At times my discreet inner desires conflicts with my modest desire to live.
Slightly fancier, a bit kinkier; it rests beside the gateway of my dreams,
from where my life is suppose to begin. I'm wedged in between.
I feel life a little controlled by me. Even if I believe I’ve the stern, my boat is steered and dragged away by the waves;
duly unknowing its path.
Tapping along the tides I go nowhere. I can’t understand why I can’t be me?
Why I’m always been like a grim-faced tart who split his ice lollies on the ground?
Why shouldn’t I be bold enough to control my wicked mind which is stealing away my grace?
Is a sitting lame duck is me? Sometimes I do feel the same.
How I could appease two desires at once? How would I know which one will eventually take me to the road I desire?
Is this tricky extended game itself is life? Is the same happening to all of us?
Desires - a little steamy; a little unwavering, propels our life. still we don't get almost half of the halves we desired?
yet we get something. And we live on.
.
Slightly fancier, a bit kinkier; it rests beside the gateway of my dreams,
from where my life is suppose to begin. I'm wedged in between.
I feel life a little controlled by me. Even if I believe I’ve the stern, my boat is steered and dragged away by the waves;
duly unknowing its path.
Tapping along the tides I go nowhere. I can’t understand why I can’t be me?
Why I’m always been like a grim-faced tart who split his ice lollies on the ground?
Why shouldn’t I be bold enough to control my wicked mind which is stealing away my grace?
Is a sitting lame duck is me? Sometimes I do feel the same.
How I could appease two desires at once? How would I know which one will eventually take me to the road I desire?
Is this tricky extended game itself is life? Is the same happening to all of us?
Desires - a little steamy; a little unwavering, propels our life. still we don't get almost half of the halves we desired?
yet we get something. And we live on.
.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Do you miss anything?
Have you ever heard a voice within you say – ‘do it or don’t do it’?
Did you ever listen to it?
Why have you been ignoring it?
Did you gain anything by not responding to your heart’s vibes?
Shouldn’t you be a little more considerate to your master inside?
Why did you veer away?
Don’t you miss something?
Isn’t it what you've vaulted as the memories – lost?
Now, can you hear the sound of silence?
Listen.
.
Did you ever listen to it?
Why have you been ignoring it?
Did you gain anything by not responding to your heart’s vibes?
Shouldn’t you be a little more considerate to your master inside?
Why did you veer away?
Don’t you miss something?
Isn’t it what you've vaulted as the memories – lost?
Now, can you hear the sound of silence?
Listen.
.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Inevitable necessity!
Why do my eyes twitch?
Why don’t my wounds heal?
Why do a few sounds still rumbling inside me?
How do people change?
Is it the way life should be?
Is this the way life changes?
Inevitable necessity!
I’m unable to find an answer.
What should I be doing?
What else for there is hope?
For what else there is tomorrow?
Why should I change to changes?
I will be me!
.
Why don’t my wounds heal?
Why do a few sounds still rumbling inside me?
How do people change?
Is it the way life should be?
Is this the way life changes?
Inevitable necessity!
I’m unable to find an answer.
What should I be doing?
What else for there is hope?
For what else there is tomorrow?
Why should I change to changes?
I will be me!
.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
The innocence of silence.
No one to listen. No one to be listened.
No one aside to experience the unexpected furious wind.
Isn’t it all we need at times?
The morbid innocence of silence - the loneliness.
It’s hard to fathom the depth of loneliness.
We dig it deeper by scuffling breathe.
Nothing is any clear than a belief to hope there is a tomorrow in waiting.
Even this stagnation has life!
a silent life.
.
No one aside to experience the unexpected furious wind.
Isn’t it all we need at times?
The morbid innocence of silence - the loneliness.
It’s hard to fathom the depth of loneliness.
We dig it deeper by scuffling breathe.
Nothing is any clear than a belief to hope there is a tomorrow in waiting.
Even this stagnation has life!
a silent life.
.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
As in every fairy tale...
As in every fairy tale, once; I also got stuck into love. Indeed it was only me. It was a single-sided dream. Lately did I know, I was a paranoid who believed, I was being loved. It was like: I loved- she didn’t love- something broke inside my heart- her marriage- a trip into the mountains- a song dedication- the same gloomy end marking a new beginning!
But there were a few whom I loved more than me for not any Romeo reasons. I simply loved them to be with them for the want of being with them. You may call them your friends, your other-gene brother or sister, or whatever you’d love to call. You’re happy, you are energized and much above all; you are you, when along with them. What else is fun? What else is life? Why everyone needs a chocolate when dusk falls?
I have had two such little dear rascals’. I was 'Bhayya' and a 'Cheda' for them.
'Bhayya- dear' once said: “I don’t know what I feel, but one thing is sure, I’m luckier now! I’ve a brother.”
Today I don’t know where she is.
'Cheda-dear' once said: “Cheda! Certain irritating mannerisms of yours are stark similar to my own brother, especially when you try to impose your authority and restrict my freedom (of speech!)"
I know where she is, and I know why she doesn't pick up when I call. She is having fun! She loves to have fun with me…
Chocolates are with me. Would i ever be able to share with them?
Ever did I consider them as women? Why did they ignore me? I don't have an answer. There isn't a greater pain, when on a fine day you recognize: your heart is not responding to you. When every emotion turns dull grey, you live to forget all those were unforgettable. From this day a pain begins to grow in your throat. You are not you again.
Isn't it more a fairy like tale?
.
But there were a few whom I loved more than me for not any Romeo reasons. I simply loved them to be with them for the want of being with them. You may call them your friends, your other-gene brother or sister, or whatever you’d love to call. You’re happy, you are energized and much above all; you are you, when along with them. What else is fun? What else is life? Why everyone needs a chocolate when dusk falls?
I have had two such little dear rascals’. I was 'Bhayya' and a 'Cheda' for them.
'Bhayya- dear' once said: “I don’t know what I feel, but one thing is sure, I’m luckier now! I’ve a brother.”
Today I don’t know where she is.
'Cheda-dear' once said: “Cheda! Certain irritating mannerisms of yours are stark similar to my own brother, especially when you try to impose your authority and restrict my freedom (of speech!)"
I know where she is, and I know why she doesn't pick up when I call. She is having fun! She loves to have fun with me…
Chocolates are with me. Would i ever be able to share with them?
Ever did I consider them as women? Why did they ignore me? I don't have an answer. There isn't a greater pain, when on a fine day you recognize: your heart is not responding to you. When every emotion turns dull grey, you live to forget all those were unforgettable. From this day a pain begins to grow in your throat. You are not you again.
Isn't it more a fairy like tale?
.
Monday, July 20, 2009
What I need now (2)
I dream about my dreams.
I speak what my silence tells.
I would love to go beyond what was beyond until.
I’d love to see me happy – for who else should I be the same?
I want my life; if not a day more than I’m destined.
If I die now, today is my second day after death...
I love living as me
.
I speak what my silence tells.
I would love to go beyond what was beyond until.
I’d love to see me happy – for who else should I be the same?
I want my life; if not a day more than I’m destined.
If I die now, today is my second day after death...
I love living as me
.
Friday, July 17, 2009
What I need now.
I would never propagate a rebellion leaving me behind.
I’m committed to me!
I’d been killing my today marrying yesterday’s worthless memories.
I do agree, some are hard to wipe off. God damn it.
Does this holy crap would take a whole lot from you?
Yeah.. I'm talking about morbid turned memories.
What would you do? Do you have an answer?
I'd say - 'Live for you and only for you.' (Do I sound a geek?)
I would no more mute me again – I’m taking me into my desires!
Let me learn to see today.
I need this day.
.
I’m committed to me!
I’d been killing my today marrying yesterday’s worthless memories.
I do agree, some are hard to wipe off. God damn it.
Does this holy crap would take a whole lot from you?
Yeah.. I'm talking about morbid turned memories.
What would you do? Do you have an answer?
I'd say - 'Live for you and only for you.' (Do I sound a geek?)
I would no more mute me again – I’m taking me into my desires!
Let me learn to see today.
I need this day.
.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
സ്റ്റിക്കര് ഒട്ടിച്ച വീട്ടിലെക്യു...
നീങ്ങികൊണ്ടിരിക്കുന്ന ഒരു തിങ്ങിയ മുറിയായിരുന്നു തീവണ്ടി. എവെടെയും ആളുകള്. രാവിലെ ആയതു കൊണ്ട് പലവിധത്തിലുള്ള പെര്ഫുമുകളുടെ ഒരു cocktail ആയിരുന്നു കംപാര്ത്ടുമെന്റ്റ്.
ഇരികുന്നവര്, ഇരുന്ന് ഉറങ്ങുന്നവര്, നില്കുന്നവര്, നിന്ന് ഉറക്കത്തെ ശപിക്കുന്നവര്. ഇതിനെല്ലാമിടയില് തൊള്ള സ്പീക്കര് ആകി ഒരു വീട്ടമ്മ ഇടിവെട്ടി മഴപെയുന്ന പോലെ സംസാരിചോനടിരുന്നു.
ശാസ്ത്രിയ സംഗീതം പടികാതതുകൊണ്ടാനത്രേ അവരുടെ മകള് idea star singer രില് നിന്ന് പുറത്തായത്. രഞ്ജിനി ഹരിധാസിന്റെ കംപയരിംഗ് engineering രിതികളും, "എഹ്- എഹ്- എഹ് " എന്നാ ശ്രീകുമാറിന്റെ ചിരിയെ കുറിച്ചും അവര് പ്രഭന്ധങള് നിരത്തി. 5.1 surround സൗണ്ടില് അവര് കത്തി കയറി. ശോര്നുരില് അവര് ഇറങ്ങിപോയത്തോടെ "കടക്ക് - രഞ്ജിനി- കടക്ക്- ഐഡിയ" എന്നാ തീവണ്ടിയുടെ താളം "കടക്ക്-കടക്ക്" എന്നാ പഴയ രീതിയില് കേട്ട് തുടങ്ങി...
"വടച്ചായ്-വടച്ചായ്" വിളികള് നേര്ത്തു തുടങ്ങിയപ്പോഴാണ് വണ്ടി നീങ്ങിത്തുടങ്ങി എന്ന് മനസിലായത്. കമ്പാര്ടുമെന്റ്റ് ശാന്തം. റേഡിയോ ചേച്ചിയെ ഇപ്പൊ എല്ലാവരും മിസ്സ് ചെയുന്നു. നിന്ന് ഉറക്കം തൂങ്ങാന് തുടങ്ങിയപോഴാണ് അവളെ കണ്ടത്. ഞാന് അവളെ നോക്കി. നോക്കി പോയീ. കുതിരയുടെ മുഖം ഉള്ളൊരു പെന്ന്കുട്ടി. ആ മുഖം ആയിരുന്നു അവളുടെ പ്രത്യേകത.
i pod shuffle ചെവിയില് തിരുക്കി ഏതോ പാടിന് തലയാട്ടികൊണ്ട് നിന്ന്. ഒരു ബബിള് ഗം കൂടി ചവചിരുനെന്കില് ശരിക്കും കുതിരയെ പോലെ തോന്നിയെന്നെ! സുന്ദരി ആയിരുന്നു അവള്. മട്ടും ഭാവവും ഒക്കെ കണ്ടപ്പോള് ബിട്ടുവിനെ ഓര്മ വന്നു. ( ബിട്ടുവിനെ അറിയില്ലേ? ഇന്ത്യന് ഐടില് ആവാന് പൊക്കിളില് റിംഗ് ഇട്ടു പാടി നടന്ന Delhi 6 കാരി.) ഇന്ത്യയുടെ mp3 തലമുറ സ്വയം പയ്റിട്ട് ആവുന്ന പോലെ തോന്നി. എല്ലാവരും പാട്ടുകാര്, പക്കാ മേളക്കാര്!
വീണ്ടും അവളെ നോക്കാന് തോന്നി. ഞാന് അവളെ തന്നെ നോക്കി. ഇതവന്ന അവള് എന്നെയും നോക്കി. പെട്ടന്ന് ട്രെയിന് പുറകോട്ടു പോവുന്ന പോലെ തോന്നി. മീറ്റഫിസികല് ചിന്തകള് ഒക്കെ നിന്നു. പുറകിലെക് നോക്കി അവള് മറ്റാരെയും അല്ല നോക്കുന്നത് എന്ന് ഉറപ്പു വരുത്തി. "മസകലി..മസകലി...", പ്രാവിനെ തലയില് വെച്ച് ഡാന്സ് ചെയാന് തോന്നി.
ഞാന് വീണ്ടും നോകി.
അവളും നോകി.
ഞാന് ഒന്നും കൂടെ നോകി.
അവളും.
ഇപ്പൊ ട്രെയിന് നീങ്ങുന്നതായെ തോന്നിയില്ല. ഭാരതപുഴ പോലെ തൊണ്ട വറ്റി 'ഫെവികോള്' ആയി നിന്നു.
മരവിച്ച് ഞാന് അവളുടെ പൊട്ടിലെക്യ് നോക്കി നിന്നു. വില്ല് പോലെ ഉള്ള പുരികങ്ങള്കിടയില് ഒരു ചെറിയ പൊട്ട്. എന്റെ കവിളുകള് തുടുത്തു വരുനത് കണ്ടപ്പോള് മെല്ലെ അവള് മുഖം താഴ്ത്തി. ചെറിയ ഒരു നോട്ടം, ചെറിയ ഒരു ചിരി - അവിടെ നിന്നു പുതിയ ഒരു ഭാഷ ജനിക്കുന്നു, അലെങ്കില് അവിടെ മരിക്കുന്നു. എനിക്ക് ഇറങ്ങേണ്ട സ്റ്റേഷന് ആയി. ഞാന് ഇറങ്ങി. മനസ് ഇറങ്ങിയിലെങ്കിലും...
(തുടരും...)
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ഇരികുന്നവര്, ഇരുന്ന് ഉറങ്ങുന്നവര്, നില്കുന്നവര്, നിന്ന് ഉറക്കത്തെ ശപിക്കുന്നവര്. ഇതിനെല്ലാമിടയില് തൊള്ള സ്പീക്കര് ആകി ഒരു വീട്ടമ്മ ഇടിവെട്ടി മഴപെയുന്ന പോലെ സംസാരിചോനടിരുന്നു.
ശാസ്ത്രിയ സംഗീതം പടികാതതുകൊണ്ടാനത്രേ അവരുടെ മകള് idea star singer രില് നിന്ന് പുറത്തായത്. രഞ്ജിനി ഹരിധാസിന്റെ കംപയരിംഗ് engineering രിതികളും, "എഹ്- എഹ്- എഹ് " എന്നാ ശ്രീകുമാറിന്റെ ചിരിയെ കുറിച്ചും അവര് പ്രഭന്ധങള് നിരത്തി. 5.1 surround സൗണ്ടില് അവര് കത്തി കയറി. ശോര്നുരില് അവര് ഇറങ്ങിപോയത്തോടെ "കടക്ക് - രഞ്ജിനി- കടക്ക്- ഐഡിയ" എന്നാ തീവണ്ടിയുടെ താളം "കടക്ക്-കടക്ക്" എന്നാ പഴയ രീതിയില് കേട്ട് തുടങ്ങി...
"വടച്ചായ്-വടച്ചായ്" വിളികള് നേര്ത്തു തുടങ്ങിയപ്പോഴാണ് വണ്ടി നീങ്ങിത്തുടങ്ങി എന്ന് മനസിലായത്. കമ്പാര്ടുമെന്റ്റ് ശാന്തം. റേഡിയോ ചേച്ചിയെ ഇപ്പൊ എല്ലാവരും മിസ്സ് ചെയുന്നു. നിന്ന് ഉറക്കം തൂങ്ങാന് തുടങ്ങിയപോഴാണ് അവളെ കണ്ടത്. ഞാന് അവളെ നോക്കി. നോക്കി പോയീ. കുതിരയുടെ മുഖം ഉള്ളൊരു പെന്ന്കുട്ടി. ആ മുഖം ആയിരുന്നു അവളുടെ പ്രത്യേകത.
i pod shuffle ചെവിയില് തിരുക്കി ഏതോ പാടിന് തലയാട്ടികൊണ്ട് നിന്ന്. ഒരു ബബിള് ഗം കൂടി ചവചിരുനെന്കില് ശരിക്കും കുതിരയെ പോലെ തോന്നിയെന്നെ! സുന്ദരി ആയിരുന്നു അവള്. മട്ടും ഭാവവും ഒക്കെ കണ്ടപ്പോള് ബിട്ടുവിനെ ഓര്മ വന്നു. ( ബിട്ടുവിനെ അറിയില്ലേ? ഇന്ത്യന് ഐടില് ആവാന് പൊക്കിളില് റിംഗ് ഇട്ടു പാടി നടന്ന Delhi 6 കാരി.) ഇന്ത്യയുടെ mp3 തലമുറ സ്വയം പയ്റിട്ട് ആവുന്ന പോലെ തോന്നി. എല്ലാവരും പാട്ടുകാര്, പക്കാ മേളക്കാര്!
വീണ്ടും അവളെ നോക്കാന് തോന്നി. ഞാന് അവളെ തന്നെ നോക്കി. ഇതവന്ന അവള് എന്നെയും നോക്കി. പെട്ടന്ന് ട്രെയിന് പുറകോട്ടു പോവുന്ന പോലെ തോന്നി. മീറ്റഫിസികല് ചിന്തകള് ഒക്കെ നിന്നു. പുറകിലെക് നോക്കി അവള് മറ്റാരെയും അല്ല നോക്കുന്നത് എന്ന് ഉറപ്പു വരുത്തി. "മസകലി..മസകലി...", പ്രാവിനെ തലയില് വെച്ച് ഡാന്സ് ചെയാന് തോന്നി.
ഞാന് വീണ്ടും നോകി.
അവളും നോകി.
ഞാന് ഒന്നും കൂടെ നോകി.
അവളും.
ഇപ്പൊ ട്രെയിന് നീങ്ങുന്നതായെ തോന്നിയില്ല. ഭാരതപുഴ പോലെ തൊണ്ട വറ്റി 'ഫെവികോള്' ആയി നിന്നു.
മരവിച്ച് ഞാന് അവളുടെ പൊട്ടിലെക്യ് നോക്കി നിന്നു. വില്ല് പോലെ ഉള്ള പുരികങ്ങള്കിടയില് ഒരു ചെറിയ പൊട്ട്. എന്റെ കവിളുകള് തുടുത്തു വരുനത് കണ്ടപ്പോള് മെല്ലെ അവള് മുഖം താഴ്ത്തി. ചെറിയ ഒരു നോട്ടം, ചെറിയ ഒരു ചിരി - അവിടെ നിന്നു പുതിയ ഒരു ഭാഷ ജനിക്കുന്നു, അലെങ്കില് അവിടെ മരിക്കുന്നു. എനിക്ക് ഇറങ്ങേണ്ട സ്റ്റേഷന് ആയി. ഞാന് ഇറങ്ങി. മനസ് ഇറങ്ങിയിലെങ്കിലും...
(തുടരും...)
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Sunday, May 31, 2009
Thanks for instilling Hope in me.
If I hadn't met you, what would I've been?
Your voice always ignited a streak inside my heart- to perform what I desired.
Your gaze used to pumped up my veins,
leaving me short out of breath; but not out of life!
You instilled in me a new hope to think beyond all odds.
You lived in my heart, you taught me to hope against hope.
Even in your absence you gifted me a life.
Hadn't been you, I wouldn't have dream.
I wouldn't have been me.
.
Your voice always ignited a streak inside my heart- to perform what I desired.
Your gaze used to pumped up my veins,
leaving me short out of breath; but not out of life!
You instilled in me a new hope to think beyond all odds.
You lived in my heart, you taught me to hope against hope.
Even in your absence you gifted me a life.
Hadn't been you, I wouldn't have dream.
I wouldn't have been me.
.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Dream and Kisses.
If dream is the fulfillment of a wish,
I hadn’t lost my love.
My kisses aren’t undelivered.
If dream is an omen,
I was forced to betray my love.
My kisses would've been wafting in the air.
If dream is- just a mere dream,
I’d had a sweet little inspiring life.
My kisses will transmigrate!
If dream is just a remainder that I’m in a sleep,
I bet, I’ve the habit of writing in the sleep,
Kissing too…
If dream is to foresee your life,
I pray; I don’t see it.
I’ve no more kisses to play with.
If dream is to inspire,
I wish, I’m always in it.
Kisses will be strawberry sweet.
If dream itself is an imagination,
I would like to awake, from the life I’m in.
And from the Kisses I’ve imagined.
.
I hadn’t lost my love.
My kisses aren’t undelivered.
If dream is an omen,
I was forced to betray my love.
My kisses would've been wafting in the air.
If dream is- just a mere dream,
I’d had a sweet little inspiring life.
My kisses will transmigrate!
If dream is just a remainder that I’m in a sleep,
I bet, I’ve the habit of writing in the sleep,
Kissing too…
If dream is to foresee your life,
I pray; I don’t see it.
I’ve no more kisses to play with.
If dream is to inspire,
I wish, I’m always in it.
Kisses will be strawberry sweet.
If dream itself is an imagination,
I would like to awake, from the life I’m in.
And from the Kisses I’ve imagined.
.
Conceptualize the moment.
The magic in you, the essence of being you at this moment is vital.
Your conflicts within – the concept you yourself are, clash vigorously,
And at times it misleads you and takes you to the wily point of deception,
At the moment, Search for tears in your eyes.
If you find a globule of it, cry; think for a conceptual change.
Revamp yourself. Break all theories you believed until.
Sleep today. See tomorrow in a new light.
Continue to live.
Again make concepts. Be in conflict. Break it.
Break and make.
Conceptualize the living seconds.
Evolve within.
.
Your conflicts within – the concept you yourself are, clash vigorously,
And at times it misleads you and takes you to the wily point of deception,
At the moment, Search for tears in your eyes.
If you find a globule of it, cry; think for a conceptual change.
Revamp yourself. Break all theories you believed until.
Sleep today. See tomorrow in a new light.
Continue to live.
Again make concepts. Be in conflict. Break it.
Break and make.
Conceptualize the living seconds.
Evolve within.
.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Care for whom?
Whom do you care for?
Who are you to be cared?
Why do you live to prove a point, or two?
What is there in proving? Move on.
Why are you anxious to foresee your tomorrow,
When you’re chewing it now?
Isn't it your desire, your willingness to live,
when others compel you to flee?
Take it as the courage; you gained fighting against all odds.
Let other’s blabber. Stand alone.
Winners always stride alone.
Live. Care for whom?
.
Who are you to be cared?
Why do you live to prove a point, or two?
What is there in proving? Move on.
Why are you anxious to foresee your tomorrow,
When you’re chewing it now?
Isn't it your desire, your willingness to live,
when others compel you to flee?
Take it as the courage; you gained fighting against all odds.
Let other’s blabber. Stand alone.
Winners always stride alone.
Live. Care for whom?
.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
17” Life.
I’ve reduced my world to 17”. The screen size of my computer. My window to the world of ceaseless liberty. My friends live inside it and I’m no exception. I meet my friends here. They’ve been thumbnailed to photo grids or more obscurely hiding inside tiny little green or red spheres. Inside my monitor, I share the space with them; even if not I share my heart! (At times male egoist’s stand by their words)
They are been constantly updated. They pop out, poke, proclaim, and publicize the privacy – their formal invitation to sneak in. Being a voyeur, I peep in every Tom’s and Tina’s space. Everyone speaks out, try to do the little mischief's what they can do, ignoring who were they yesterday. I could see lovely expressions and emotions ‘bill-boarded’ here, to which I can hardly close my eyes to.
Even if I’m alone, sitting inside my shabby-dingy room, I’m open to a screen world where my friends are waiting for me, to see my green sphere glow. Isn’t it a feel of high spirits? Whatever it may be, if I wish; I’m not alone anymore. There is someone to talk. Some faces to see, some thoughts to re-think, someone ready to receive my whack, smack or kisses virtually. Is there any better place available?
I’m happy inside my new world. My globe is box shaped and my map is square. Even though I miss my playground, my jogging track and the evening park blabs, I’m very much comfortable staring to the screen. Along with my friends inside, I make my life a big scrap, a colorful graffiti on the wall - painted against the gravity of life. I transcend to a human being worth no emotions.
.
They are been constantly updated. They pop out, poke, proclaim, and publicize the privacy – their formal invitation to sneak in. Being a voyeur, I peep in every Tom’s and Tina’s space. Everyone speaks out, try to do the little mischief's what they can do, ignoring who were they yesterday. I could see lovely expressions and emotions ‘bill-boarded’ here, to which I can hardly close my eyes to.
Even if I’m alone, sitting inside my shabby-dingy room, I’m open to a screen world where my friends are waiting for me, to see my green sphere glow. Isn’t it a feel of high spirits? Whatever it may be, if I wish; I’m not alone anymore. There is someone to talk. Some faces to see, some thoughts to re-think, someone ready to receive my whack, smack or kisses virtually. Is there any better place available?
I’m happy inside my new world. My globe is box shaped and my map is square. Even though I miss my playground, my jogging track and the evening park blabs, I’m very much comfortable staring to the screen. Along with my friends inside, I make my life a big scrap, a colorful graffiti on the wall - painted against the gravity of life. I transcend to a human being worth no emotions.
.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
God – be in my heart, be alive.
God, are you alive?
Why do you incarnate as bullets and reincarnate as bombs?
Why do you explode?
What message are you giving?
God – please be human!
Oh God, come down to earth,
Practice humanity, be an atheist!
Open your eyes, to see, what really heaven is; when people smile.
God – be in my heart, be alive.
I’m a human being.
.
Why do you incarnate as bullets and reincarnate as bombs?
Why do you explode?
What message are you giving?
God – please be human!
Oh God, come down to earth,
Practice humanity, be an atheist!
Open your eyes, to see, what really heaven is; when people smile.
God – be in my heart, be alive.
I’m a human being.
.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Imagine. Fly.
Isn’t it good to think that you’re flying?
Does it give you a reason to smile?
What else it reminds you are thrilling as well.
Fly the world around. Fly above the sky, you’d grown looking up.
Take it the way you’d wish to breeze around,
‘Fly’ lets your imagination take its wings.
It is the moment you’d love to snatch from the butterflies,
From the dragonflies groping above the grass.
When you’re in love and also when you abstain from it – you fly away your woes.
When you’re happy, you fly along the wind; you fly above the clouds.
You fly with your dreams, your ambitions and your attitude.
You fly desires as well as kite.
When you fly, fix your eyes deep down to earth,
You’d never know who would seize your spot, when you’re not down below.
If you aren’t planning a return, fly your freedom.
You decide. You imagine. You Fly.
.
Does it give you a reason to smile?
What else it reminds you are thrilling as well.
Fly the world around. Fly above the sky, you’d grown looking up.
Take it the way you’d wish to breeze around,
‘Fly’ lets your imagination take its wings.
It is the moment you’d love to snatch from the butterflies,
From the dragonflies groping above the grass.
When you’re in love and also when you abstain from it – you fly away your woes.
When you’re happy, you fly along the wind; you fly above the clouds.
You fly with your dreams, your ambitions and your attitude.
You fly desires as well as kite.
When you fly, fix your eyes deep down to earth,
You’d never know who would seize your spot, when you’re not down below.
If you aren’t planning a return, fly your freedom.
You decide. You imagine. You Fly.
.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Tagged.
What tag should I remove to live the life I want?
What should I make me understand when I hear a resounding hiss deep inside my heart?
There is a volcanic heat inside me waiting to erupt – to embalm me into the deep soil.
There is fear inside me, which can take me into the darkest of cavern where damnation is celebrated, where blood is being sucked through eyes!
Creepy images rattle my sleep. The dream of discord is propelled from here.
I wake up seeking answers to the morbid feel I’m being pulled into.
The images of sea surfing up, the haunting white castles, the snake-headed-friends, the claustrophobic cells, leaves me stiff and lip-tied inside the stuffy dark room.
“Where to I’m being drifted?” Is the tag I’m wearing carrying me away?
Should I tear it off?
No. There is no life without tags. I swear - rather I bet.
Let your heartbeats die and dreams turn scary; but you hide inside your tags.
“Hey!” You may kiss your tags now!
.
What should I make me understand when I hear a resounding hiss deep inside my heart?
There is a volcanic heat inside me waiting to erupt – to embalm me into the deep soil.
There is fear inside me, which can take me into the darkest of cavern where damnation is celebrated, where blood is being sucked through eyes!
Creepy images rattle my sleep. The dream of discord is propelled from here.
I wake up seeking answers to the morbid feel I’m being pulled into.
The images of sea surfing up, the haunting white castles, the snake-headed-friends, the claustrophobic cells, leaves me stiff and lip-tied inside the stuffy dark room.
“Where to I’m being drifted?” Is the tag I’m wearing carrying me away?
Should I tear it off?
No. There is no life without tags. I swear - rather I bet.
Let your heartbeats die and dreams turn scary; but you hide inside your tags.
“Hey!” You may kiss your tags now!
.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Live today.
What sort of life it would be, if you purposefully blow off the light; that is self-illuminating inside you?
Why do you ignore your shadow that is no less than you?
But you should. Hide yourselves!
What are you trying to hide from the grueling gazes; from the street’s darkest corners?
What would you do; to show that, you’re you by not remaining you?
Let them stare into your yesterday’s face. Hide your today.
Smile :)
Live today.
.
Why do you ignore your shadow that is no less than you?
But you should. Hide yourselves!
What are you trying to hide from the grueling gazes; from the street’s darkest corners?
What would you do; to show that, you’re you by not remaining you?
Let them stare into your yesterday’s face. Hide your today.
Smile :)
Live today.
.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Talk within.
What would you do if you are scrutinized for each word you utter?
What string should you pull to hear the bell singing the hymn of your soul?
What should you do to awake from yesterdays remains?
What should you behold to inspire your life beyond today?
Think of an answer – Talk within.
For whom should you be the slave, or;
Should you be your master?
In what discourse should you be in to hear the advice of life?
To where should you stride to quench the thirst of your life?
Think of an answer – Hear your heartbeats.
Have you ever talked to you?
Have you ever looked into you?
Open your mind. Observe your senses.
Now, capture what was missing inside you.
Hope. There is still gleam left in your eyes.
.
What string should you pull to hear the bell singing the hymn of your soul?
What should you do to awake from yesterdays remains?
What should you behold to inspire your life beyond today?
Think of an answer – Talk within.
For whom should you be the slave, or;
Should you be your master?
In what discourse should you be in to hear the advice of life?
To where should you stride to quench the thirst of your life?
Think of an answer – Hear your heartbeats.
Have you ever talked to you?
Have you ever looked into you?
Open your mind. Observe your senses.
Now, capture what was missing inside you.
Hope. There is still gleam left in your eyes.
.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Is my breeze near?
Is my breeze anyway near? I’m waiting.
I’m being basked in the uneasiness; the morning is no blessing.
Inside my room, in my world where gloominess glows;
I sit listening to the tick of my clock.
I’m not sure what it hints me moving around a dial.
Is it what the bygone life or the nearing death?
Silence has almost eaten my voice,
My lips have been knitted.
My head awaits an explosion;
Is the freedom near?
I’d surprise if I deny it once again.
I wish I see no more dissimilarity,
let me lost inside the similarity;
where my identity ends.
I could feel my breeze nearing,
Hope this time I would prove no wrong.
.
I’m being basked in the uneasiness; the morning is no blessing.
Inside my room, in my world where gloominess glows;
I sit listening to the tick of my clock.
I’m not sure what it hints me moving around a dial.
Is it what the bygone life or the nearing death?
Silence has almost eaten my voice,
My lips have been knitted.
My head awaits an explosion;
Is the freedom near?
I’d surprise if I deny it once again.
I wish I see no more dissimilarity,
let me lost inside the similarity;
where my identity ends.
I could feel my breeze nearing,
Hope this time I would prove no wrong.
.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Who is the rat?
I’m displaced from the matrix, which I least thought would ever explode!
I find hearts competing against hearts. Is it Vulnerable?
“Where do I find my solace?” -
Would it be possible, if I tread atop a mountain?
Would I get it, if I meditate in the woods?
Would I breathe in it, if I gaze into the sky?
Would I ever be able to cage it before I die?
Root of relations is ruined by a pig-sized rat.
The unanswerable question is - “Who is the rat? “
When people decide to hide deep inside themselves,
They become no less than a fat piece of shit!
(Can you hear the piglets squeal?)
The obscure dimensions in one suddenly pop up.
I fall into dismay for no reasons,
I become the exact opposite of me.
I no longer live inside me.
What prevents me from living my life my way?
Am I the rat answerable?
.
I find hearts competing against hearts. Is it Vulnerable?
“Where do I find my solace?” -
Would it be possible, if I tread atop a mountain?
Would I get it, if I meditate in the woods?
Would I breathe in it, if I gaze into the sky?
Would I ever be able to cage it before I die?
Root of relations is ruined by a pig-sized rat.
The unanswerable question is - “Who is the rat? “
When people decide to hide deep inside themselves,
They become no less than a fat piece of shit!
(Can you hear the piglets squeal?)
The obscure dimensions in one suddenly pop up.
I fall into dismay for no reasons,
I become the exact opposite of me.
I no longer live inside me.
What prevents me from living my life my way?
Am I the rat answerable?
.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Have you ever?
Have you ever felt the soil beneath your feet?
Have you ever walked on the green-misty grass?
Have you ever got drenched in the reviving summer fall?
Have you ever awaited the blissful morning rays?
Have you ever?
Have you ever looked back on your life?
Have you ever looked back on you?
Have you ever been you?
Have you ever?
Have you?
Have to.
.
Have you ever walked on the green-misty grass?
Have you ever got drenched in the reviving summer fall?
Have you ever awaited the blissful morning rays?
Have you ever?
Have you ever looked back on your life?
Have you ever looked back on you?
Have you ever been you?
Have you ever?
Have you?
Have to.
.
Monday, February 16, 2009
I wish I were…
I wish I were the sky…
To be the vast expanse, to know no boundaries,
To be the transition of changing seasons,
To mock the people who pray and kill.
To see how a tiny little planet hide n seek; day n nights, revolving!
To know, how the wind teaches the birds to fly against it.
To realize there are butterflies flying along with scavengers.
To be the battleground for the darkest of clouds before they explode into thunderstorms.
To understand sun is a star amongst million such.
To inspire people who keeps a dream.
To be the womb from where goose-bump-evoking rain ooze out!
To remain the empty space, where in me, there is another thousand skies.
I wish I were…
.
To be the vast expanse, to know no boundaries,
To be the transition of changing seasons,
To mock the people who pray and kill.
To see how a tiny little planet hide n seek; day n nights, revolving!
To know, how the wind teaches the birds to fly against it.
To realize there are butterflies flying along with scavengers.
To be the battleground for the darkest of clouds before they explode into thunderstorms.
To understand sun is a star amongst million such.
To inspire people who keeps a dream.
To be the womb from where goose-bump-evoking rain ooze out!
To remain the empty space, where in me, there is another thousand skies.
I wish I were…
.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
I’m running away from me.
I’m running away from me.
I’ve become a stranger in me!
I ignore the hymn sang by my heart.
I pretend I didn’t hear it.
I remain dump; I curse the defiance in me.
Each day I’m newly born.
I’m unaware, what’s happening?
By the time I get accustomed to the daily sham,
I kill myself.
I reincarnate the very next day,
Failing to rediscover me, I start to cry…
Meanwhile,
I woke up from the dream which I were in.
Yet I did find the tears real.
Wiping it off, I start to run.
.
I’ve become a stranger in me!
I ignore the hymn sang by my heart.
I pretend I didn’t hear it.
I remain dump; I curse the defiance in me.
Each day I’m newly born.
I’m unaware, what’s happening?
By the time I get accustomed to the daily sham,
I kill myself.
I reincarnate the very next day,
Failing to rediscover me, I start to cry…
Meanwhile,
I woke up from the dream which I were in.
Yet I did find the tears real.
Wiping it off, I start to run.
.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
I'm the Principle duly engaged by dreams…
I may be an expression unexpressed.
I may be a destination unexplored.
I know,
I’m a moss, a fungus, a dirty little weed in the swamp.
I’m that bloody discolored loser,
Waiting to see what magic feat is Victory.
I’m nothing less than –
Ditch water.
Filthy Flamboyance.
A Day that is ignored.
A Night disliked by owls.
Still I believe,
I’m –
The Theory that has hadn’t solved.
The Propaganda that hadn’t been proliferated.
The Dogma unscathed by ambitions.
The Principle duly engaged by dreams…
I’m sick of saying –
“I can do anything expect what I always wanted!”
.
I may be a destination unexplored.
I know,
I’m a moss, a fungus, a dirty little weed in the swamp.
I’m that bloody discolored loser,
Waiting to see what magic feat is Victory.
I’m nothing less than –
Ditch water.
Filthy Flamboyance.
A Day that is ignored.
A Night disliked by owls.
Still I believe,
I’m –
The Theory that has hadn’t solved.
The Propaganda that hadn’t been proliferated.
The Dogma unscathed by ambitions.
The Principle duly engaged by dreams…
I’m sick of saying –
“I can do anything expect what I always wanted!”
.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
How Can I come out of grey?
‘What makes life go green?’
‘What should inspire me more?’
When clueless questions make my decisions abruptly bad, it stings!
Why I’m unable to enter the door which is left opened before me?
What obsession is pulling me back?
Should I crush my dreams? My desires…
No lucky dice ever supported my fortune. I don’t mind.
When thousands of unanswerable queries bloom in the brain,
No night rain soothes me, nor any kiss of the wind did heal me...
Is it the time you no more listen to your hearts call?
I see large plumes of dark smoke right before my eyes.
How will I come out from this speck of chaotic dust? This prickly grey!
I’ve no tears left with, but I want to cry.
.
‘What should inspire me more?’
When clueless questions make my decisions abruptly bad, it stings!
Why I’m unable to enter the door which is left opened before me?
What obsession is pulling me back?
Should I crush my dreams? My desires…
No lucky dice ever supported my fortune. I don’t mind.
When thousands of unanswerable queries bloom in the brain,
No night rain soothes me, nor any kiss of the wind did heal me...
Is it the time you no more listen to your hearts call?
I see large plumes of dark smoke right before my eyes.
How will I come out from this speck of chaotic dust? This prickly grey!
I’ve no tears left with, but I want to cry.
.
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