I have lost a lot of friends...
What is the meaning of lost friends...
Whats the point of life...
Everything is just superficial...
Why do we exist...
The trees? Why are they there... just growing and standing... what do they do... wouldnt they be tired....
Dont we get tired of it all...
The monotony of life...
Just existing....
Make a difference?
How?
What really makes a difference?
Oh that person really made a difference in peoples lives...
But isnt life itself superficial...
Making a difference in how a person lives is just a passing thought...
Howmany people think who made what difference in their lives...
Do we thank the guy who discovered electricity... cell phones... computers.... the nameless faceless nomad who found how to light fire...

What if we had none of this wouldnt we still live? Wouldnt we still exist?

What does making a difference really mean?
To educate people? To save the girl child?
For what?
End of the day
People will still live...
Human race will still survive...
We are all just ants working hard to build the nest only to never live in the nest...

Work hard. Study hard. Get a good job. Procreate. Make the offspring know their manners. Teach. Put them into the same cycle as you are in...
Whats the point of the cycle.
But then again... whats the point of life....

A couple of days back... i was weaving in and out of the land of all things possible on a disturbed night of sleep...  I had these vivid dreams...  Conscious projections of the subconscious mind as they say....  The warmth it left was like a comfortable quilt...  it enveloped me in a hug....  If out of a million dreams one turns true....  i would be content if this did come to fruit...

law of attraction

Theres something i read...
the law of attraction..
sounds interesting?
Whats being theorised is that the fears we have is what is attracted to us..
not so intresting now is it?
:)
If we think good thoughts consciously and subconsciously... then its the good that gets transmitted
visualise a radio. Our brain as the radio.
It transmits the good and the universe directs good to us and the brain the radio. Our radio. Recieves the good and translates it into all good in our daily lives.
Now what happens when we think yes i want X and that the X will be good for me but subconsciously we think oh if i dont get X then itll ruin my life..
then our radio transmits i dont want too ruin my life and the universe picks up ruin from ourfrequency and directs ruin to our channel...
Crazy right?
So they say that a vision board helps.
They gave an example of the guy... eternal sunshine of the spotless mind guy... i forget his name...
on how as an actor he initially failed and was so disappointed that he created a vision board for himself unknowingly...
he wrote himself a cheque that said to the guys name that i forget for acting services rendered and cut it out for ten million dollars...
the guys with the law of attraction theory claim it was his vision board... one that he carried in his wallet with him...

Think itll work?
Im not so sure...
what i do believe is...
 in the power of the mind...
i do believe the universe has a pattern...
but would or could that be because of our brains  being a radio transmitting our thoughts...
of that i am not sure...

Life has its mysteries.
and
I am no sherlock holmes.

Small eyes...
black....
a nose shaped like a capsicum....
Bronzed golden skin...
a heart... indescribable...
the mind a mystery...

let me tell you...

The thing about expectations let me tell you....
the thing about expectations is,
that it will make you bitter
is that you may be left with clear blue skies...
the bubble around your world cracks...
the salted air remains unsmelt...
the tears in your eyes remain unshed...

A time that was where i was listening to times long gone and their little things that was romantic.. all the sneaky glances... all the tiny roses... the light pecks... the soft whiteness...
And then ofcourse a lot changed.
The shell growns harder as the turtle ages....

The head stays out most of the time slow to react irrespective of the dangers posed....
I wonder ...
two weeks later... now...
if i will have any time that i can paint with silliness...
if i will think of all the whimsies..  if there are any at all...
i search to find.. .there isnt a single in my mind that is so...

Maybe i am not worth all the crazies...

de-mone

As i waited in the long queue that wound all the way till the turn of the street... i watched a little girl... chasing everyone laughing happily asking them to play with her.. tugging at their hems.. a beautiful little girl... As dark as a moonless night... with a flash of white on the seat of her back.. like a full moon when she strolls up and down happily... a little dash of white at her paws like stars that accompany a full unblemished moon...  Playful...  so full of innocence....  not realising that one day the same people who smile indulgently at her would watch with satisfaction when shes dragged by a thin wire rope around her neck until her screams die...  until in pain she gives up...  stops crying out for help... Watching her reminded me of my little one when i met her the first time...  This one though came to me silently and asked me to be her friend in her lonely world... I was waiting in the line... estimated it to take me an hour  to see those crispy pink gandhi in my hand obliged... a little unwillingly at first... i didnt want to earn the scorn of my little one back home... but she drew me into her tug of war with a piece of rope...  Looked at me with those amazing pools of jet black... an expression of determination set in to try and wrest that tiny piece of rope away from me...  everytime she won she tumbled back with the force of her own pull....  dazed and in wonder she came back and asked for more...  partly to figure out if i was pushing her in any way...  The line grew shorter...  her interest soon faded...  when it was my turn i looked around to check where she had gone to.... she was onto her next adventure trotting away happily.... the girl who played tug with her for an hour long forgotten.... Soon it was my time to walk the other way.... I hope de-mone turns out well...  un touched by the wariness that sets in with her life on the dark street corners and the deserted alleys....   p.s: yes i named her. De-mone. After the demonetisation drive which was the only reason i had met this girl who i wudnt have met otherwise...

and it starts again

begin again
put back shattered glass
the start seems too far
the end even farther
the long winding road to take
seems too tiresome to try...
stumbling blocks
mistakes are a lesson
lesson in what

No matter where you go
the system breaks you

sage

The moon is full...

Hidden behind a dark cloud...

Waiting for rescue..

The white chariot raising dust...

The long haired one looks beyond....

Of the earth

Not to belong

Between heaven and earth

Enthusiastic at creative best to agony...

Never earthbound...

Mind travels the ways of the mysterious wind....

Lost in thought...

Miles away..

forever

A few days back i had written down a few words about life and death. Two dsys later i get a call out of the blue late in the evening a voice thats choking back emotions.. anger, pain, disbelief about an elderly gentleman.....
elderly not just  in age... but in all his lifes experiences that he was not able to take anymore... anymore loss.. anymore love... he decided to choose his path to the road he wanted to travel alone by his choice.
A choice that noone else would understand.. a choice that he knew  will be judged...
a choice nonetheless...

He chose the fan and a piece of cloth as his vessel from which his son would deliver him from...
the first hand that his son caught and gripped would be gripped by the son again for the last time..
there are no goodbyes...
Only forevers...

pencil tip

As I sit, looking into space.

It occurs to me.. 

may be, just maybe the small speck in the vast design of the universe is meant to be something great. 

like the tiny sharp tip of the lead pencil that i am watching the child sharpen repeatedly to get a doodle right... 

looking at the doodle that he hands me made of so many different vibrant colors which makes absolutely no sense to me... 

i am touched. 

the snotty little brat of the entire house, one who has little wheels fixed to his feet... the dude that i would (if i could) depict him as a cartoon always have a cloud of dust behind him..... 

hands me something he had enough patience to sit for an hour to make this little piece that showed me how he wanted his world to be... full of colors... full of imagination... 

every pencil has its design to draw and be a part of...

this little brat with the twinkling eyes has taught me the biggest lesson i have learnt so far.

Schooled.

waves the stone

The waves formed by any ocean Deep,

The rise and fall of Foam a constant.
The stones that turn to sand, a variable.

The music of the Ocean wide is melodious,
the fate of the stone goes unnoticed.

there i saw

Lost in the Wilderness,
dry branches scraping the skin raw,
creepers crushed.
Blood oozing unnoticed


Eyes hazy so far
focuses in an instant
sounds of the waterfall
fades into Oblivion.


The beat slowing
Mind numb

dust flies buzzing

There...

That Instant, I saw....

Noise

The Beauty of Language

lies in the words unsaid

The silences  conveying

much more than words can express...

The distance can be

felt more than calculated.

The mind is there to disturb, the thought arrives to clear the White Noise.

balance

A long drive down a dark two lane... cold air stings my face... an occasional burst of light approaches from a distance and disappears with a rush of wind...
heading to my spot.
To watch the sun set and the moon rise through the mist.

On top of this tiny hillock the world feels so distant.

The lights are dim, the cry of the azaan barely a distant whisper.
The people, their chariots merely a blob of colors. Moving in paths directed and guided by invisible strings, like puppets.

The beauty of a soundless world in what felt like suspended animation is so addictive.

All that i want right at this minute, sitting on the peak of this hillock, a small speck in the vast design of space at the foot of this huge windmill turning in a regular hypnotising rhythm  is... that this moment never ends.
The flock of birds flying in a familiar design freeze.. locked in this moment.
That this minute stays with me forever.

The setting sun and the full moon rising on either side of me.

With me in the center..... a celestial balance...

darkness

The white cloud with speckles of gold never did come.

The dark cloud heavy with tears threatened but disappointed once again.

Clarity dawned.

As it always does when disappointment looks you deep in your eye.
Face to face. Close enough to see the bottomless pit of darkness.
the abyss surrounded by hazel brown and grey specks...
the darkness more enticing and mersmerising than its sorrounding.

The depth of the black so beautiful that sitting on a broken bridge...
makes you wonder what it takes to disappear into that darkness...

Never to give even a passing thought about what it takes to be the gold that surrounds the pit....
only to think of the darkness itself...

The sun rises in the horizon far away...

Miles away...
the warmth touches the air around....
The humidity increases...

The sun doesn't shine into those eyes...
a place that the light doesnt reach
a nook where the warmth doesnt touch...

The tendril of seduction lies heavy....

The enchanter still manages to hold onto the enchanted.

give take

Love to take
love to give
love to leave

Love anyway

it goes

The lotus blooms, withers away
rain soaked earth but dries away.

Passioned words, given away
The rainbow appears but to fade away

life and death

Lonesome to die
lonesome to live
life is but deaths first
death is but lifes pause

yogi

Dancing in the rain
that which is scarce,
Covered by the golden yellow hue of the Indian soil,

The yogi is at peace
never to be disturbed again

jaz

Sun shines bright warm and long
the slender slanting rays of dawn reaches the jasmine blossomed.

Time to end your enticing beautiful charm,
Either adorn deities or the browned damp floor of the garden..

Adorn...
for you are meant to be admired..

Oh little pearl falling to the ground!

Caustic remarks
told but not to behold.

words dear
to be heard by ones near.

Pain felt
never to be held.

to fly again

Young blood has so much passion and yearning.
An unquenchable thirst, an insatiable hunger.
the pangs of need,
The breath of jealousy...

thoughts unprovoked hold the mind a prisoner,
The key held by the same hand that holds the reason.

Alas!
Unknowing of the reason the mind wanders whereabouts unknown
in the dungeon held captive.
trapped by ones own mind.

Never to be opened,

Never to be released,

Never to fly again....

light. live. love

A lamp glows..
The soft light flickering in the gentle breeze,
to tunes unheard dances
the shadows change to the beats heard by the flame alone...

just a part of the picture

A piece of the frame
lone petal of a rosette
a cloud in skies so vast
the rain soaked land sees a dew drop

the lotus

The sun wil rise
the delicate fingers of usha will tease the petals of this lotus open
thought the fly trapped...
unaware that gaja uprooted padma long before ushas fingers began reaching out.




-*-*-*-*



The sun shall rise as always
the lotus will bloom
the fly thought to itself waiting inside the bud
An elephant uprooted the lotus

matters of the heart

The heart has so many words that are meant to be said... the lips have so many silences that are meant to be heard.. but yet...
 There are but many a times that we are not able to say what we mean...

The attention that is craved.. the possessiveness that can be misunderstood...
The fights that can end with a hug but are prolonged because of a single word that cuts a fresh wound...

All are but the same...
 The call of love..
 The words of tenderness which crosses its thin border into the line of control and enters the ruling territory of hurt...

A shell around the tender flesh of the snail is meant but to protect its own when it could be taken as a defense by a rather non observant eagle...

The heart but beats with the same rhythm... until the eyes shed a tear...

The lids that are wet with droplets of unshed tears dont open so the hurt in the eyes are not seen with the eye
The heart wants the wound dressed...
The eyes show the balm needed...

The mind though refuses to comply and ask the vocal cords to make the grunts that could help the other in the path he should choose...

Alas! The matters of the heart if only were as simple to follow as the beats that it dances to...

the skinny old man

 I walk through these tattered creaky old iron gates that have weathered many a summers... feeling good...  looking up at the sky to smile back at the angry sun... as i stepped into the holy ground... i saw a skinny old man... barely walking... wincing in pain... not looking up... eyes fixed at the ground that hes going to step on...  Possibly willing the sand to cool.. and the ground to be soft... i think to myself and walk by... turning back now and then to check his progress as he inches his way toward the brick walled cube that he considers his salvation..
My day goes on...
 the sun moves to the middle of his battle field...  Grumpy as usual... I take a break for lunch and walk out the same creaky gates... i see the familiar shape of the dirty old man... i notice now his feet...  His right foot swollen... a deep gash ... the wound festering..  dirty... flies swarming around his foot.... probably why i didnt notice the first time around... not very far from where i saw him last...  He was trying to eat his morsel of rice which some kind soul had placed in his hand....  the food fell.... a water bottle appeared next to him.... he drank and it slipped from those frail hands of his.... too heavy....
At the end of my day... i noticed that the same scraggly old man with a dirty white beard hadcovered his face to protect himself against the fury of the sun.... and lay still...  I kept asking around if anyone could help me to take him to the hospital a few feet away.... but i realised noone had ears....
Maybe i lost my voice....
 I went to the hospital asked them to help. Get the stretcher... bring him in.... the doctor as always instructed the compounder... the compounder who found it beneath his stature to converse with a woman.. that about a homeless old man asked a security guard to see to what was needed....  The security was deployed...  he was told go check the condition of the patient and let us know.
 I waited beside the old man.
Giving him water.  Soothing him as he grew anxious.  I kept waiting....  noone came....  The moon rose and i asked can you help...  And help came...  an indignant question  do you expect 108 to come for getting an old man from the gate to the casuality???  And then i waited somemore...
Finally taking him inside as the four guards who carried a rusted stretcher in muttered amongst themselves.... why bother bringing this man in when he has no home and he will go sit on the road again...
When asked what happens now....  I was told....  Theres a destitute ward... we give them food everyday...
what about medicines?  We keep it on their bed if they eat then they are fortunate...  The doctors wont visit...  the staff dont touch or clean...

  The frail old man with a dirty beard may have been carried by four people  for the last time... like the four vedas carrying the lonely man named dharma..

For his next journey may be as just another old mortal shell...

and so it was

I am a very decent guy he said
the day that she stayed over at his after they said to her he is your happily ever after and they fell into happy slumber while she felt hesitant at first she felt safe and fell asleep to be awakened by **the hand** and she screamed awake...  I am a very decent guy he had said that evening over dinner....

 A year later.... 

the husband tells the wife..."you wont believe it... but ask anyone in my class and theyd tell you what a gem of a guy i am... i am of the rare decent men clan...".

 He goes on to describe gaily how he taught his friends yoga and how this one time he made her take her top off saying clothes only bind you and restrict your breathing..... and sat looking at the rise and fall of her ample bossom while she focussed on her breathing oblivious..... 

I am a gem he said.... 

While drinking unendingly from his bottle of poison.. while narrating the triumphant tales of his tentative explorations of his teachers young daughter who he used to address as sister...
laughingly recalling the time a married woman estranged called him over to provide her the warmth that she missed from her flame... with her in a hotel room while he trembled... in excitement...

 You will never find one like me he said....

 All the while talking about a teacher Revathi miss who he crushed on and the lady who showed mixed signals to a boy her sons age....

No one in the world can love like me he claimed... 

Showing her a worn out black and white passport photo of a school girl frail and fragile in  braids... madhu he sighed... while he rendered a tragic story of his classmate  who lost to leukemia.... 

No one can love as much as i did...

  Revathi.. this name seems to have come up again.... the girl who ditched him... never wanting to see his face again...
 the woman who he wrote letters in his blood to... the woman who got a red rose from everyone she met on her first valentines with him...  The lady who refuses to acknowledge his existence.....

 I am the best husband that you could dream of he says... 

All the while mumbling her best friends and her sisters name and describing them with his eyes closed half asleep but mostly drunk on his poison
stumbling
drooling
 not managing to get himself to bed with out the help of his wife...

 Now she knew.... 
He spoke the truth...

 He was truly one of a kind....

a circle

i finally emerge from the zone that i went into.... got my phone fixed after weeks of letting it be.... replied to texts... started answering calls... and here i am back to writing tentatively....
i had gone on a three hour visit... after travelling for almost six hours three hours is all i got at home with mom... and caught up or at least tried to... coz i am just breaking out of the shell i withdrew into... so...
and after four years maybe even a little more... i was given in my hand a bangle and a chain to wear.... the last i remember wearing jewelry was a fateful day in the end of February close to four years ago... after which the dear crystals have never parted from me...

though i have not missed them... as i wore a watch... the same one i got my mother as a gift with my first salary as a doctor... the same one that i was so upset she misplaced and went and got another as close to the design as possible in my second salary only to find the real one a few months later buried under the heap of clothes that my lil lotus eyed one considers her closet...
as i spoke i could not help but notice my mother watch my hand... my flapping bird like clumsy hands... and the light reflected in the unshed tears that she was holding back... only to offer its been so long as explanation enough....
yes. so long since i wore them. but it feels like only yesterday that i would take my rings off and loop them through the band of the watch and drop them into the pockets of staff nurses as i jumped on another chance to stitch em up... or follow the same ritual as i braced myself to dissect in my first year of med school...

today...
i took my bangle off and unstrapped my watch...
looped the bangle through the wrist band and dropped it into my pocket....
as i smiled at fresh and eager faces in my table....

life does come a full circle....

The scarf

She draws her scarf closer....
That meter long piece of fabric helped her in feeling safe and warm...

As she tugs on the edges around her shoulder mentally she puts the shield in place... her eyes set to guard her emotions....

They say... the eyes are the windows to our souls...
She reminds herself not to open the window out when shes facing turbulent seas...

as she walks down the short narrow street lined on either side with lines of laundered clothes strung out like there waant a tomorrow.... a few dogs trot with her... close to her heels... keepimg her company... telling her... not to worry, we are always there around no matter where you are....

Shoulders squared... she goes on ahead... unsure of what awaits....

The door is opened... a smile greets her...
All is well...
Atleast for the day...

to ask rather than be told....

need to sense rather than see....

To listen than to hear....

To think rather than feel....

My heart beats for what it wants...

But i know my heart beat will have to stop one day... a day when i wake up from this dream...

When my castle crumbles...

When my head comes away from the white clouds....

When the horse rides away with its rider in his armor....

Maybe then...

Then the heart may stop a while....

And then keep the rhythm in tune with the fading hoofbeats....

While my eyes watch the lone riders armor shine in the desert sun...

The little thing do make a difference....

Maybe ignorance is bliss afterall...

The things that i thought was planned so much ahead and was personalised for me... and meant only for me... to show me that every thing has a heart in it... was picked out of a look book...

Why does it make me unspecial?

Am i not worth more thought?

Maybe i am not...

Maybe the signs have been there and i have been oblivious or so far from reality that a cloud of smoke appears as a beautiful bloom of flowers...

A night of darkness is offset by a beautiful sunrise the sky fills with oranges pinks and a lovely non sickening lavender....

The tender green stems that i placed in a dry non promising soil has strengthened and have begun to give tiny leaves which were unfurling slowly as my little one stretched lazily looking up at me with sleepy eyes wondering what i was upto without coffee in hand she looked suspicious....

Thorns

I too have been covered in thorns....
Have seen the winds take away the pretty flowers at the end....
I too have hurt as you...
when trying to grow beyond the thorns and the broken stems....
The feet bleed as a path is cleared for those walking behind us.....
Let me make your path easier...
Let me shower the ground before your heel touches the sand with lovely flowers.... ones that heal when crushed by your tender foot.....
Let me tend to your wound and make your blood spill less...

Let me caress and heal the scars by the thorns that you picked up from now and before....

Let my embrace offer you the sanctum and the refuge that you look for in every passing heartbeat...

Let me walk with my arms around you in the thorn filled forest so you dont get hurt anymore.... while annoited with the healing sandal paste by me....

Never forget....
Ill be there no matter what, you say.... i wish you knew the same i think and not say... but you know and i know it as well....

Banana raisin cake

Ingredients:

1 cup maida
3/4 brown sugar
1/4 cup milk
4table spoon (the big spoon) oil-any vegetable oil
2tsp curd/yogurt
Over ripe banana -2 big/ 1dozen small
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 salt
Few drops of vanilla essence or coco powder
Chopped almonds and raisins
Cooking butter to grease cake pan:

Lets break it down into 4 simple steps.

Step #1
Put banana. Sugar. Yogurt. Milk. Salt. Oil. Vanilla essence or cocoa powder and blend in mixie.

Step #2
Mix through sieve flour and baking soda.

Step #3
Mix dry and wet ingredients fold over gently till well mixed. Add almonds raisins and fold twice gently.

Step #4
Grease bowl with cooking butter pour batter in. Micro 20mts.

Till bowl is completely dry. No trace of water.

Note:

To check if done look at the bowl if it looks moist add two mins more.
(Toothpick fork and knife coming out dry is crap for a first time baker. )

Dont mix batter like how we make dough for chappati. Itll take out any air and cake wil come out heavy and wont be spongy.

Good luck! :)

I want to be the one to show you love
So wild and true...
That every part of you becomes open and fearless....

The one song

Like the gushing river....
Like the calm sea
Like the blue of the ocean
The quiet of the market
Memoried elude
The minds numb

Worms

So i say, "hes a player and always has been." She sighs and says " i still love him, besides whatll people say... that i cant be in a steady relationship na".
Why do our women think about what people say?!
Who are people??
The ones that mysteriously crawl out of woodwork when theres a marriage or death in the offing? Why should we care about what the occassional guest acts in our lives say? We are the ones in the reality afterall... how do the worms know whats actually hapening....
Not so long ago the exact same thing crossed my mind and almost led to a full fledged argument between the razorcut and me....
Family but not family is exactly that... they crawl out of crevices like these worms i deal with daily in my kitchen sink...mess with my mood a.k.a parallel here would be my week and then disappear after hurling choicest of language to my near and dear... while with the worms i heat water and throw onto them to get scalded and baked im usually not around when the people throw their words around coz im pretty sure they know the heat of my boiling water and they tend to disappear to where they came from not unlike my sinkworms. The second i hit the light switch they scurry out of the path of the scald and disappear into their crevices waiting for an oppurtunity to get loose again....
And so the dance continues....
But i digress...
I kept wondering why she was so reluctant to let go... a doctor quite good looking smart... and a techie lesser said the better with a lumbar stenosis which was so mild it would hardly make a difference even to heavy duty athletes...
Coz her softie heart says the oath taken is for anyone needing help medically....
It doesnt say any leech right?
Then again two sides of a coin. Two pages of the same story two angles ofthe camera in the same shot picks up different views.... well never know...
Easier to say "do you know wat she did....."
But difficult to understand and harder to digest.
They wish the horse speaks.
If only the horse spoke the mountain will turn into a rubble and the skin ashen.
Until then better to tread the path that we forge and the one thats meant to belong to us.

Until then my dear i say "keep all ur orifices shut and focus on yourself and your needs"

'Until?' She asks her voice breaking.
'Until.'I say firmly.

1-0

Shes fooling you he says with a knowing smile. Looking into his eyes glinting with mischief and turning around to see her waddle with her back walking faster than her front realisation struck.
To be proud that the little one has learnt to get her way or to be taken aback that its that easy to be fooled was the cliff that i hung from. Finally, settling on neither but continued to be amused the rest of the way as the lil one and her guy sniggered together on her smarty pants wearing tailed back.
Round 1: button nose 1 clueless proud di 0

Dew of tear

A drop of dew rests delicately on the tiny white petal of a delicate flower... the petal droops...
Does the dew drop made the flower wilt faster.... ?
Or does it add to the beauty of the flower for us to see before taking it away from its material life a little sooner than it was meant to leave?

A drop of tear running down one cheek of clear skin... from the kohl lined eyes which resist its escape.... does the tear add to the sadness?
or does it wash away the sadness from the heart that holds the eye to see more clear from this moment on?

Crazy
Crazy in love
Crazy for you
Crazy to think

To think this is for ever

Fresh cut grass

Once the roads end is reached we think maybe we should have driven down slowly... much more slow than what we did to have smelt the air, caught the smell of fresh cut grass and the eucalyptus trees that lined our path....
To have touched a touch me not and watched with wonder the leaves closing up for longer...
To have preserved the flower that looks like a nose stud...
To have waited until the flock of birds flew till the end...
To have watched the sunset together fully...
To have watched the bloodmoon rise at the other end at the same time while sitting on the sea shore with water kissing our feet as it felt like...
There are no goodbyes...
There will not be any either....
just a life filled with thank yous... and memories looked back on and wistfully smiled at...

Typical :)

Blue....

Shiny and new

As new toys are bought for her...
She looses interest in whats old....
And plays with whats squeaky and new....

Later she realises that the white ball thats not so white anymore and does not squeak as often is the one that has a piece of her...

She returns to the faded dull ball that sat alone in the dusty veranda under the scorching sun all these days and cradles it like a long lost friend...

Bubble

When one steps out of the bubble we build around ourselves and see the world in its harsh light is when we realise how shielded our lives have been inside that shiny tiny bubble.

Wish i could go back into mine

Break

Taking a break for a fortnight. See you on the other side!

Advance directive

“Marte hain aarzoo mein marne ki,
Maut aati hai par nahin aati.”
- mirza ghalib

Death is a form of life i think.
It eludes when we need it.... we live with a future of death in our mind.
We work and we save and we behave wanting to be known as righteous and a well lived person. But when we do that at times our hearts are overlooked.
Our minds decide whats the right and wrong way to live, our mind is dictated by the way we want society to percieve us. Even when our hearts desire something else.
When a person cant decide what should be done. Medically. If he she cant decide or is not in a position to decide then who makes the choice?
To pull the plug as we say or not to...
If you pull the plus and decide to end a loved ones time in the mortal universe of life on this doomed land then you will be judged in this society as a bad son daughter sister...
It will be told for ages to come that x,y,z had no love for the life lived by their loved....
But maybe its time to start thinking... that the person loved so much to not be able to see the other in pain....
Its time to think about an advance directive...
I recommend it.
I wouldnt want anyone to prolong the inevitable. Death.
The tubes down my throat. The pumping of the chest so hard that your ribs crack just to make a lump of muscle in the heart start beating again.
No.
Its not for me.

रूपं देहि जयं देहि यशो देहि द्विषो जहि.

Give me beauty
Give me success
Give me happiness
Slay my enemies.

a line from devi puranam...

Rama

A boy.
A man.
Young virile suitor.
A husband.
Flawed son to his mother.
Duty bound to his father.
A man demanding the respect of  his brother.
A man worthy of being followed by his people.
The attention of a hummingbird.
The trust of a calf.
The power to bring armies together...
The cunning to break countries.
The art of hidden arrows.
The eye to spot weakness.
The grandeur of fulfilment.
A man of his word.
there he stood... with his chest out proud, feet never touching the ground... for, he was a man above all....
A question on his lips. The trusting calf to be seen by all....  the wonder in him as he stood growing with every set and rise of the lashes....

As he turns into a caterpillar from being a butterfly.
He curbs the wings of his love.
Instead of soaring at the sun like an eagle.....
He slipped into the earth as a lizard the minute she stepped into the flames of her mothers embrace....

Follow no more with adoration in your eyes.... but see him for his flaws as much as his wings.
There his feet touched the ground.
The man who once could never be as we want to be.. a man who always rises above...
Alas! How he has fallen the man who walks in air....
He was a man, above all.

Ravanan

Ten heads.
A charm.
A loud bellow.
Beauty in his voice.
Perserverance in his penance.
Faith in his presence.
He walks by and falls for a woman in the midst of trees....
Enthralled by her.
Strong on his resolve.
Versatile in his talents... her man is lured away as the ten headed one pursues his fancied.

Sita

Just as the wind turns to a breeze... which eventually will take the form of a tornado with a calm center....
In that center stands a lone pure imperfect soul. With the steadfast belief of this too shall pass.
With folded hands she calls on her cord to take her back into the safety she came from....
Bidding and blessing the cord that she is giving up.
Away she turns
No tears
No vows
No pleads
Just a calm. Acceptance. At peace she steps into the cracks that emerge with tongues of flames embracing her, being welcomed like the queen she was.

Let go. Lets go. Let it go.
Who says yea
Who holds back
Where the tears shine through
The sun sets
As the moon rises it bleeds blood
Takes the color of the rising sun
So white the tears its bled the colors of the one it reflects...
So pure...
A new day begins elsewhere as the land breathes in the beauty and mildness
Before being beat by the harsh heat that the sun brings after rising in beauty
All we see is relief as the sun sets not its beauty

Apparently i am a person eho cant blush.
Like if i say blushing i get asked really?!
Are u ok?
Is it a caffienated blush... basically blush induced by having too much of coffee....
Sigh
It takes so much of my energy trying to just be the way people think i am.
To one set i apparently am the  hyper  happy and the center of attention person... to the other a tomboy with a dont mess with me but im fun person... to another i prolly come across as the snob...
All of these are me... but i am all of that and not just one....

Why cant things just be simple. Be me.
The universe and you.

Never to hurt
Never to shed a tear
Never to depend
Never to crave
Never to want
Never to need
Nrver to wander
Never to believe

Never never never

Never say never what ever u do,
Never say never my lil friend....
But when u do wat u thougt u wont do ever,
Never think back again....

The hand

When all u want is to withdraw.
And you do...
From far and distant to near you become the distant....
The hand that rests on your lower back to reassure.... though you want to go into a shell and build walls...
You expect the hand to rest....
To provide the comfort...
To steady when you waver...
To catch when you tumble....
And when u take a fall... you realise the wall you built kept the hand away from u as much as it kept everyone else....
Thats when you realise...
The hand and the wall...
Are human... all too human...

Nothing...
Everything...
Inconspicuous....
Infinite...
I am nobody....
I am
The universe

We are all gathering wrinkles as we go along and I would rather earn mine by laughing, as I escape into the land of earls, castles, pigs and fools.

We are all gathering wrinkles as we go along and I would rather earn mine by laughing, as I escape into the land of earls, castles, pigs and fools.

Prisoners

We often become prisoners of our past. And masters of our own mistakes. But it takes gallons of grit and gumption to say, "Yes, I got it all wrong." And then get down to clean the mess pool, with bare hands and a bruised but brave heart.

Mayb it wasnt like this when it started
Mayb things changed
Mayb u didnt see it before
Its ok
Atleast its not too late...

when a wound is tired of crying, it starts to sing

Wishing to be invisible

Sometimes interaction with people is too much for me to handle.
Is tht a bad thing?
Usually when i am with people i reflect. But it takes a toll on me. I need to take a break for a few days before i meet people again. It tires me out. So much that i physically feel the exhaustion.

I am ok with being with myself.
I need that time by myself. Not sharing what i think. To be me. My me time.
But i wonder if i be myself in a crowd and people begin asking me if im ok if somethings wrong that they think im being rude or snobby and i go down a notch and talk till my head hurts and till my throat goes dry.
I wonder if there was someplace or somehow that i can turn invisible.
A place where i can just be me and not be asked to talk smile nod hear listen and react accordingly....
A place where theres noone else ....

Push shove

When u get pushed u tend to push back. When u get shoved. Its better to just step back....

When time doesnt exist.
When the mountains sway as a leaf in the wind.
When the sun sets in the east.
Then.
Maybe then.

Just a number...

Distance is just a number....
The same distance that heals also hurts.
The shutting out is not a number.
The silence that the distance brings can not be a number.
The true silence. The one that your heart needs as much as your mind... distance is not a number as much as it is a saviour.
Distance is better than a number...
Distance is turning out to be a healer... a protector... a  beautiful protective shield..

Barren land

The land looks barren as i travel. Toward a distant place if memory serves well.
Light at the tunnels end shall shine.
Just as flowers shall unfurl their beauty in the presence of the morning light...
The smell of the morning dew fills my heart with hope just as i alight from my chariot...
The land appears barren and the throat is parched.

As it shall be

There was once a prince... long long ago... the prince of hearts... with friends in near and distant places...
Friends worth their weight in gold and sapphires...
The prince had a secret. Who stayed in a land distant.
Who had pigeons carrying msgs...
Once the prince knew instead of beating the pigeon the secret he slew....
All the land laughed it is as i say they said. The secrets heart bled. It is as it is she said.
It will be as it is meant to be she said to herself as the pigeons flew free.
Her heart bleeding. Her eyes burning. She stood scorned.
Until the last whisper of breath left her chest she looked upon.

Why
Why draw a person closer
Why push them away
Why
Why draw a line and say stay withing
Why push the same person beyond
Why
Why shower with affection
Why show hatred
Why
Why say it is u i lean on
Why throw away the same stick
Why
Why say i trust
Why distrust
Why want and in a blink not
Why
Why....
Why......

Is it?

As my eyes close another day has gone by...
Without the scent...
Without the words....
Oh be still my beating heart...!
I hear footsteps....
Can it be?!...

Way back...

It is difficult to watch a loved one go through the forest alone and in the dark.
Especially when your hands are tied and you are told not give directions.
For the night is dark and full of terrors.
It feels helpless and with every stumble our heart skips a beat.
With every word our heart is squeezed.
May the wind blow the clouds away and may the birds guide your way with their mellifluous voices...
May the roads blossom with soft scented flowers that will keep your feet from feeling the rocky path....
May the trees swing and sway to show you the way...
May the rocks that you stumble on turn to nectar....
The beautiful bountiful forest....
that which gives us hope everytime we cast our eyes on it... may the same forest be brimming with hope and joy as you find your way back to me my love...