Helplessness. Loneliness. Impertinence.

My helplessness becomes my evergreen shade to me.

The sand through I walk becomes my only soothe to live.

The faint light of the night becomes my narrow hope to next day.

The slim crescent becomes the modish soothsayer.

My loneliness becomes my untried meditation.

The dry leaves falling to my room becomes my unsung requiem of friendship.

The wind that seeps through my broken window becomes my lady for the day.

The musty room I laze becomes my dishevelled castle of dreams.

My impertinence to bright world outside is the contempt of my forefathers.

The quaint smile which I bore is my act of shrewd discretion.

The impatience makes me a half done man.

The arrogance reduces me to a filthy ash in a tray.

Helplessness. Loneliness. Impertinence.

The threesome is taking me for a wild unexperienced stroll.

Do you have the ticket?

We often keep dreams. We love to see ourselves in a better position than we are now. We live hoping that one day we will be fine; may be the finest among the group around us. At times, we all are the same. But have you ever bought the ticket to win your dreams? wondered?

There is an old joke in Italy, It goes like this - There was a poor man who always prayed in  front of the saint to win him a lottery. Everyday he did this in front of the huge marble structure. One day the exasperated saint appeared before the man and said: “Look man, I’ll make you win the lottery, but first you buy a ticket!” The saint disappeared.

Aren’t we all awaiting our luck with no amount of effort being put into actualisation of our dreams? Aren’t we all the same? Just give a thought.
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( 'Ticket story' taken from the movie, 'EAT. PRAY.LOVE'.)

Sleep. Think.

Often there are setbacks for all. There are miseries. When vagaries of people whom we loved make us feel go wary; we go blind, numb and deaf opening all our senses. We feel we are at a point of no return. We feel the pull of our eyelids strong enough that it would no longer open again. We go down, drowse to a whirlpool of sorrow. We lie deep down in the seabed waiting to be the prey of a starving shark. How would you rise back?

Lay back and sleep. Sleep, sleep and sleep. Think and sleep. Sleep and think of the moment you'd love to see yourselves in the near or distant future. Sharpen your senses. Focus. Sleeping the motionless seasons, one day you would start to hate sleeping; the day you'd awake preparing for the next run. Until then, Sleep. Think. Get ready to run.
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I love you. Should I or Shouldn’t I?

Wait a minute, Let me make it clear – I love you.

Blink your eyes. Smile.

I don’t want to know anything more about you – I love you.

When I looked at you,

I didn’t look into whatever what went before,

I didn’t ask the road you reached here,

I didn’t dig deep into your heart that was something else until we met,

I only looked into your eyes to see me in you.

But I did see you breathing in the moment’s biggest qualm;

My perception picked what your eyes quipped – “Should I or Shouldn’t I?”

Unlinked we stood blind.

Sighs became the roar of a wave which bruised the silence.

Yet you walked away.

I felt the pierce of over a thousand tiny pins in my throat,

It grew dry.

But my heart was thinking of the moment when your eyes stuck in the dilemma of Shouldn’t I Love?

At rest, still my dim-witted heart was blabbering – I love you. 

Go.

There are some desires which we all will have to quench, only to please us. Desire in which I'm stuck up now, may be frivolous, may be of no significance to a second eye-- it would even may raise their eyebrows- but it is very much unavoidable to me, for the want of being me, I must chase it. I’ve decided to go behind it.

Why should I care for other peeping eyes starving out in the middle unable to wrap their deepest desire?  I’m into it. You should go with yours or should find yours. There is no one else than you to go behind your wants or to give you the slightest healing touch you always wanted! Go behind your deep desire. Only for you.

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Uncertain Times

My helplessness becomes my evergreen shade to me.

The sand through I walk becomes my only soothe to live.

The faint light of the night becomes my narrow hope to next day.

The slim crescent becomes the modish soothsayer.

My loneliness becomes my untried meditation.

The dry leaves falling to my room becomes my unsung requiem of friendship.

The wind that seeps through my broken window becomes my lady for the day.

The musty room I laze becomes my dishevelled castle of dreams.
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My Bridge.

Am I building a bridge from me to my dreams?

Am I living a life indebted to many?

How long should I wait again to win over my own slowness?

Am I walking slowly or did I ever walk?

Why should I cry when I never responded to my own heart’s call?

Even when people say – “There is a gleam in your eyes…” I find it  hard to be in accord with them. I know; they observe me, very keen.

My heart pound like a boxer's who is waiting to start his final bout to get a result, which would heal his soul wounding his challenger’s self. From here, heart beats faster.

From nowhere, an unknown pain pierces into my veins; I feel sick. I smell death.

I don’t know why my desired roads are closing one by one, even before I walk halfway through it?

I fear.

Still, I’m trying to find my road from the battered roads.

I let my self loose to all strangles happening inside my brain. I hug my uneasiness.

I slip into a deep slumber to my fantasies, where I wedge the gap between my dreams and what my mind craves. I live inside my dreams; at least I live here.

My bridge from me to my dreams is finally connected somehow.

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