June 29, 2011

I've been looking for reasons. Coincidences are a lot easier to explain. But, i can find no reasons, and there's only so much i can explain.

How do i explain this emotion? It's like sitting under that huge elm, under its shade, while i fill up the pages of my diary. There's a light breeze that takes me back to the days i'd swing on trees and throw stones in the pond. And then i look up and find that while i've been busy writing, the sky's turned grey. There are thunderclouds, and my heart starts to race. It's exhilarating and terrifying. I want to run across the fields, chase the rain as it lashes down. And there's this part of me that stands there, wishing the clouds would stay forever.

These are the words that i cannot speak.


Bring me broken chords, my love
For i dance in the shadows.



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June 27, 2011

Beyond that Door

A lot of times you live by your own set of rules and ultimately make judgements about what's right and what's wrong. Until the wall you've built up, of all the things that are right, comes crumbling down. Until there's no right and no wrong.

A lot of it is what you believe. You've stopped yourself from doing a lot many things because you feel it's wrong. And that fear cripples you, slowly steals your joy until you feel no more.

Till one day when you rise from your slumber to a knock on your door. It takes courage to go out without your defenses. It takes courage to do something you've never done before without constantly waiting for lightning to strike you dead. And it takes courage to believe, the way you believed in magic when you were a child.

You think you don't have it in you, but somewhere outside that door is the world you created. The one where what you believe is what you get.
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June 20, 2011

no regrets


insubstantial grief
or depression bare
that clutches at my heart
never quite letting go.
like loneliness and
pain, and winter rain.


and for every morbid fantasy
i've sold my soul to,
i find that it's happiness
i've always been afraid of.

you're like those stories
i've saved deep inside of me,
unsullied and bare
like the sky washed clean.

i've let grief cut into me,
because happiness felt lethal
i've learnt to feel less
with every wound that's healed.

and now you bring me joy,
paint my skies with silliness
and laughter, and surprise
and songs i've forgotten

and i learn why regret
has never been a choice
why happiness has always
waited for the last dance.

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June 16, 2011

this

This unsteady dance
And spaces we create
And quickly erase.

It's like my soul
Has discovered spring
In hues of riotous glory.

There is madness
Slow and sure, seeping
Through my veins.

And just like that
There's more of me,
When you say you believe.

It is only this moment
And every moment after
And you,my destiny.
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June 14, 2011

Stolen Flowers

He was meeting her after four years. He still remembered her as the wide-eyed girl with mischief in her eyes and marbles in her pockets. She was the rebel, while he had always been the conformist in the family. As he waited for her outside the airport, he wondered if she was still the same old devil he'd once admired.

She waved at him as she stepped out into the sun. She looked worn out, defeated by life. What had he missed? Had their years apart created a gulf between them? His kids had grown up listening to the adventures he had had with her. It
all seemed like a dream now. He wanted to hug her, undo all the hurt he read in her eyes.

As children, they'd been the most notorious pair in town. He was a year younger than her, and often scared to go along with her schemes. But she always got her way. Their innumerable acts of
mischief had landed them in trouble with the parents, the neighbors and generally, the
townspeople. They'd done everything from painting the water tank red, to chasing squirrels up trees to scaring people at night. He laughed
aloud as he remembered the time they'd been chased out of Mrs. Sanders' garden for stealing
her dahlias.

The dahlias. That had been the summer they moved to this town. He looked at his sister, who seemed lost in her own thoughts, and wondered if that was when it had all changed. She had been
fifteen then. That had been the summer dad had left them. They had moved in with grandpa and
grandma and mom had gotten busy with the new job. They went to different schools after that
summer, and gradually grew apart. He had been busy figuring out the art of growing up, and trying
to fit in, while she had taken up a job at the local convenience store. The growing up years had been tough on him but he had eventually blended in. She was different. She stuck out like a sore
thumb wherever she went. Simply because she was different. She had alienated herself from the
family and started hanging around with her own group. And then they'd both gone off to college.
The last time he met her, she was getting married.

He'd been surprised at her choice of groom but she seemed happy with her choice.

She didn't look so happy now. He wanted to pull her close and tell her that he cared. But he'd never been able to do it then, and he knew he wouldn't be able to do it now. They'd never been much for public display of affection; it was a
family trait.

"The kids are pretty excited about your visit."

She smiled and mockingly asked, "I wonder why!"

She wasn't smiling when the kids jumped all over her a while later. She took her brother aside and
asked, "What have you told them, you idiot?! Sharon's only three, but she's been following me around as if she expects me to change costume and take to the skies!"

To her chagrin, he just grinned and told the kids that their aunt would tell them about her adventures after dinner. He knew that all this affection was suffocating her, but she needed this. She tried her best to keep
the children away, but they refused to leave her side.

"You used to love children!"

"Used to, brother. I used to be a kid too. I've grown up."

"Naah. You forgot to grow up. You just turned into a sullen teenager, and you've been that ever since."
She threw him a dirty look, and went into the kitchen. He wondered if he could get her back to her old self ever.

He knew what he had to do. She was reluctant at first, but an evening walk meant some time away from the overexcited children, and she agreed.

They walked along, without much to say. She broke the silence.

"Why this town? Of all the places, you chose this hellhole to settle down?!"

"What is it with this place and you? Because of all the bitter memories? You were fifteen when we moved here. It was a lifetime ago!"

"A lifetime ago for you, maybe. This town stole my innocence. It broke my spirit, Danny."

He was quiet. Then he turned around and smiled at her. "Remember Mrs. Sanders?"

"Oh! She was the devil! Remember how she screamed at mom the day we moved here?"

"Yes. Do you remember what we did to get back at her?"

She was grinning now. "How can I ever forget it, Danny? We stole her garden. Her whole goddamn
garden!"

"A garden full of dahlias. She
chased us all the way across the town!"

She was laughing now. "Yes, yes, I remember. We were so crazy!"

"I was the crazy one. I was scared of the consequences. You weren't. We hid the cart in the woods and then you made me push it all the way to this secret haunt you'd found!"


She sat down on a tree trunk and refused to meet his eyes. "I was a crazy fool, Danny. I believed I could make things work no matter what. I believed that I had the power to alter my life. I was an idiot."

"You believed you could make mother happy. You told me we didn't need Dad in our life. And it
took me a while, but I realized you were right. I've lived by your crazy ideals, Sis."

"You're a fool then. I gave up ages ago."

"Did you?"

"Yes. It doesn't work, Danny. Everything I did, it was to make myself believe that I could survive. My ideals, like my crazy schemes, crashed and burned."

"The dahlias, that was your last act of defiance. Everything you did after that, all the surliness, was just a facade."

He took her hand and led her into the woods. She was surprised and tried to stop him, but he just
increased his pace.

And even as she opened her mouth to chastise him, words failed her. He had brought her to her secret haunt. The place they had discovered the evening they shifted to the new town. The place
where they had hidden when Mrs. Sanders had chased them. The place where they'd dumped her
gardenful of dahlias.

She didn't know what to say, because her little brother had stolen all her words. And all the nasty voices in her head that told her that she was wrong. She was fifteen again. Fifteen and full of
hope. And she'd been right about every crazy dream she had.

For in the middle of the woods, where sunlight streamed in through the leaves, was a secret
garden. Full of stolen flowers.
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June 12, 2011

Uninterpreted

And maybe I will wait
forever, for a question
you'll never deign to ask.

Is it me, or is it you
I don't know what's different
But i can feel it in the raindrops
And it's slowly drowning my fears.

I have known madness, I have screamed
In alleys that smell of desperation
And I have known certainty
And often, succumbed to its call.

There are no drumrolls, and all I can hear
Is the sound of forgotten dreams
There's so much I've lost along the way
So much to rereturn to.

For all that I have thrown away
You give me so much more
I cannot stay wedded to fear
Now that I've crossed the door.

June 11, 2011

Far Too Deep

It's like this, you go looking for something and end up finding something else. I've learnt to stop being blind, I've learnt to question my faith, I've learnt to argue and fight. I've learnt a whole lot of things. I've also learnt to wait.

They say you grow up, and become the person you were supposed to be. I never wanted to grow up, and I wasn't sure I liked the person I've become. I used to be foolish, silly, highly uncynical and just happy with my life. Now that I've passed through the bylanes of cynicism, I find myself lost. I no longer trust people because I read the smile in their eyes. And even as I find myself lost, I know I'm enjoying this journey. I've learnt I cannot stay here forever. This isn't home. I have too much of happiness in me to stay a cynic.

Becoming a cynic was easy. Returning to innocence is proving hard enough. And somehow, I mean to enjoy the journey, every bit of it. I'm the prodigal daughter, and happiness just keeps calling, keeps waiting for me to return.

Hafiz again:

"There are different wells within your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that.

In one well
You have just a few precious cups of water,
That "love" is literally something of yourself,
It can grow as slow as a diamond
If it is lost.

Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a
Stranger,
Only to someone
Who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife
Then weave them into a blanket
To protect you.

There are different wells within us.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far, far too deep
For that."

June 4, 2011

Of Bucket Lists

So, when i was a kid, i'd save the best story, the tastiest sweet for last. This was mainly because i wanted the good stuff to last. Well, it didn't always work. I'd end up losing the book before i read the story, and my sis would gobble up my share of sweet. And i'd end up one disappointed gal. And yet, i never learnt from my mistakes. I'd keep repeating it. I did it because i was always very unsure of good things lasting forever. So i found ways to postpone it, foolishly thinking that this would make it last.

So, why am i saying all this now?


Because I keep putting off a lot of stuff. Like living, for instance. In Barney's words, i'm a Ted. I just think, think, think and never do, do, do. I've put off so much stuff because the time wasn't right.

I'm just lazy, but i figured i have to start somewhere. So i made my bucket list. Crazy, i know. But I've been asked about the crazy things i've always wanted to do. So, i figured i'd start with a tame bucket list. Of all the things i've put off all my life. It's not complete, and i doubt if i'm gonna cross out most of this stuff. But here goes:

Board a train to some random place without an itinerary

Salsa/Jive

Learn swimming(okay seriously, i don't know why this is still on my list)

Visit/Stay in a Buddhist monastery(Tibet!)

Walk in a valley

A movie, from a script i've written(sigh)

Write a book

Visit Europe(Castles, meadows.. *swoon*)

My dream home

Live in a log cabin in the middle of a forest(this!)

Learn French/German



And the list continues......

Maybe i should add cooking to the list. Maybe. :D
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June 2, 2011

Waking Up

Starbursts of joy
Ringlets of smoke
Long winding paths
Vineyards in bloom
Hummingbirds abuzz
Leaves of damp grass
Smooth, round pebbles
A dream deciphered
Wet earth, a whiff
Roasted coffee beans
A song i wordlessly sing
Random playful memories
A hint of a smile
Words, in myriad hues
My swing in the air
The rain outside my window
And the book i live by...

Waking up to life. :)
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