would you believe me
if i said
i could erase
the memories
scrub them off
my soul
even as they
threaten to stain it
red.
for you, my dear
were right
i'm nothing
more than the
little girl
too scared
of the light
the little girl
has come home,
she still loves the dark.
July 8, 2010
July 1, 2010
June 19, 2010
asides: silence so loud
you don’t ask
and I don’t tell
and we wonder why
tongues wag.
your gaze meets mine
over their heads
and we smile,
conspire.
i wait for you
to look my way
oblivious to the sparks
that fly, when you do.
like when you speak to me
with your eyes
and i answer,
wordlessly.
star-gazers both, sit together
wait for shooting stars
forget our wish breathes beside us
oh, such fools we are.
half of me
lives without half of you
and we still wonder
why we’re leading half-lives!
and I don’t tell
and we wonder why
tongues wag.
your gaze meets mine
over their heads
and we smile,
conspire.
i wait for you
to look my way
oblivious to the sparks
that fly, when you do.
like when you speak to me
with your eyes
and i answer,
wordlessly.
star-gazers both, sit together
wait for shooting stars
forget our wish breathes beside us
oh, such fools we are.
half of me
lives without half of you
and we still wonder
why we’re leading half-lives!
May 27, 2010
Like Starlight
The Maker decided man needed to learn humility. So he created the child. For the child is the only being who asks questions without answers, makes you test the limit of your possibilities, stretch it beyond what you thought was possible. A child is what you were when you weren’t scared of hurling yourself into nothingness. Yes, that is what you were when you believed in delirious possibilities, when you thrived on them. When you looked at the sky and knew for certain what was beyond, knew that at nightfall, you could read the messages the stars sent out. When you could lay awake for hours, listening to the music of silence. And create stories out of it. When irrationality won over reason, when getting shipwrecked on an undiscovered island meant the adventure of a lifetime. When cusses were the only things that could sully your reputation, or make it.
A child is what you were when hurt did not own you, when you could walk away unscathed and get on with your life, even after you’d lost your prized possessions. A child is what you were when you couldn’t hold your own in a fight, with fury as loud as thunder, and yet you gave in to make way for rain. A child is what you were when you were a bundle of possibilities, finding fulfillment in each moment. When you could laugh and forgive, fight and forget, surrender and win. A child is what you were when your tears were sacred, your sorrow unfeigned, and your words free from hatred. When you could see death and yet believe in hereafter. When you believed in living, not life. When trust was something unconditional and hope, like sunshine after rain.
A child is what you were when you didn’t want to be in control of things, and were ready to leave everything to chance and to the beauty of the dreams you’d dreamt.
Isn’t it ironic that we grow up, only to unlearn everything we really learnt on our own?
The Maker decided man needed to learn humility. So he created the child. For the child is the only being who asks questions without answers, makes you test the limit of your possibilities, stretch it beyond what you thought was possible. A child is what you were when you weren’t scared of hurling yourself into nothingness. Yes, that is what you were when you believed in delirious possibilities, when you thrived on them. When you looked at the sky and knew for certain what was beyond, knew that at nightfall, you could read the messages the stars sent out. When you could lay awake for hours, listening to the music of silence. And create stories out of it. When irrationality won over reason, when getting shipwrecked on an undiscovered island meant the adventure of a lifetime. When cusses were the only things that could sully your reputation, or make it.
A child is what you were when hurt did not own you, when you could walk away unscathed and get on with your life, even after you’d lost your prized possessions. A child is what you were when you couldn’t hold your own in a fight, with fury as loud as thunder, and yet you gave in to make way for rain. A child is what you were when you were a bundle of possibilities, finding fulfillment in each moment. When you could laugh and forgive, fight and forget, surrender and win. A child is what you were when your tears were sacred, your sorrow unfeigned, and your words free from hatred. When you could see death and yet believe in hereafter. When you believed in living, not life. When trust was something unconditional and hope, like sunshine after rain.
A child is what you were when you didn’t want to be in control of things, and were ready to leave everything to chance and to the beauty of the dreams you’d dreamt.
Isn’t it ironic that we grow up, only to unlearn everything we really learnt on our own?
May 4, 2010
Like there's no tomorrow...
Once upon a time, there lived a little girl. She was meek and unsure, and cared too much. She loved little green plants, dark woods, tame animals and eccentric knick knacks she'd find here and there. She smiled a lot, cried even more and talked to plants and the creatures in the woods. She had an ear for soulful music and loved books that spoke of magic and love. It was difficult for her to imagine hatred, for she didn't know the language. She'd been at the door a lot of times, but could never find the key. Like the little girl who'd tumbled down the rabbit hole, she'd explored some. But it wasn't enough.
The problem with her was, she was scared. Scared of the dark, and the deep blue. Scared because she loved these with a passion she couldn't really define. She had a gypsy's soul. Which made it very difficult for her to stay rooted. And though she'd been taught to stay within her limits, she yearned to get out of the familiar. Hurl herself into the deep unknown.
Familiarity was strangling her. And yet, she did not break free. The insipid days were suffocating her slowly and surely. She was waiting, for someone to push her forward. To tell her that she had to leap. And not look before she did it. Sometimes she had weird dreams. Of water and music. She tried to decipher them, unsuccessfully. All her dreams gave her this strange sense of deja vu. Like she'd been in those places before. It worried her no end, and as she spent her desolate afternoons alone, she wondered if there was an answer. Or was her existence pointless?
The stars spoke to her, of lands they could see. And she wondered when she'd get out of herself and visit those lands. One night, as she stood by the cliff and watched a lonely gull in the moonlight, she made up her mind. It was time. And so, she plunged. Into the unknown.
They never saw her again. But on moonlit nights, lone travelers adventurous enough to climb up the cliff see a figure riding a dolphin. And sometimes, the rider and the dolphin leap so high, that they form a magical silhouette against the moon.
P.S: My pesky brat of a sister reads this and tells me to Get a Life!
The problem with her was, she was scared. Scared of the dark, and the deep blue. Scared because she loved these with a passion she couldn't really define. She had a gypsy's soul. Which made it very difficult for her to stay rooted. And though she'd been taught to stay within her limits, she yearned to get out of the familiar. Hurl herself into the deep unknown.
Familiarity was strangling her. And yet, she did not break free. The insipid days were suffocating her slowly and surely. She was waiting, for someone to push her forward. To tell her that she had to leap. And not look before she did it. Sometimes she had weird dreams. Of water and music. She tried to decipher them, unsuccessfully. All her dreams gave her this strange sense of deja vu. Like she'd been in those places before. It worried her no end, and as she spent her desolate afternoons alone, she wondered if there was an answer. Or was her existence pointless?
The stars spoke to her, of lands they could see. And she wondered when she'd get out of herself and visit those lands. One night, as she stood by the cliff and watched a lonely gull in the moonlight, she made up her mind. It was time. And so, she plunged. Into the unknown.
They never saw her again. But on moonlit nights, lone travelers adventurous enough to climb up the cliff see a figure riding a dolphin. And sometimes, the rider and the dolphin leap so high, that they form a magical silhouette against the moon.
P.S: My pesky brat of a sister reads this and tells me to Get a Life!
May 3, 2010
Getting out of myself and liking what I see
I wonder why I didn't see it
As I rushed blindly in the night
Light sauntered in brilliantly
Night gave in without a fight.
I did not know what I was at
I knew not whom to turn to
But as I made my way out
I smelt wet earth and dew.
These phases of sightlessness
Were they so that I see,
What I had failed to all these days
That I had to forgive me?
I wasn't made for anger
I wasn't made for spite
I cannot vouch for the world
But I wanna set things right.
There's this little God in me
Who tells me I am more
Who tells me the truth
I am splendid, to the core!
I cannot undo my past
Or make the future mine
I can do one thing, I know
Dispel hatred with sunshine!
As I rushed blindly in the night
Light sauntered in brilliantly
Night gave in without a fight.
I did not know what I was at
I knew not whom to turn to
But as I made my way out
I smelt wet earth and dew.
These phases of sightlessness
Were they so that I see,
What I had failed to all these days
That I had to forgive me?
I wasn't made for anger
I wasn't made for spite
I cannot vouch for the world
But I wanna set things right.
There's this little God in me
Who tells me I am more
Who tells me the truth
I am splendid, to the core!
I cannot undo my past
Or make the future mine
I can do one thing, I know
Dispel hatred with sunshine!
April 26, 2010
Faith Calling
I say I have faith. But on a late night, while walking alone through a dark alley, I hear footsteps behind me and realize that faith is fickle. I cannot afford to believe in something as ephemeral as the goodness of mankind. As someone who’s always believed in people, I find myself crushed. There is no trust. No goodness anymore. Nothing I can hold on to as I rush towards the sun. It’s not easy, believing in something as exaggerated as a fairy tale. As incongruous as a clown at a funeral. Faith cannot survive as disjointed bits floating over a sordid sea of betrayal.
How do I bring back lost faith?
Learning my lessons
Smile at that hyperactive baby perched on his mom’s lap. All he wants from you is a reaction. It helps if you grin back, or even make faces at him.
Take time to watch birds or even furry little squirrels at play. Play with your pet dog, get that lazy mutt to move his butt and help you out too! It’d amaze you, the way these guys make you feel at peace.
Open your windows to the rain, get drenched. Let it wash away all the wounds, all the ugliness that has crippled your faith.
Dance. People I know run, exercise, and do what not. And yet, lazy me feels there’s nothing as liberating as dance. Close the door, and dance to the loud music. Or better, dance to your own music.
Just as it’s okay to cry once in a while, it’s okay to scream(at someone?) once in a while too. Emotions cannot be bottled up. Sometimes when you break the walls, you let sunshine in.
Write. A journal with your darkest thoughts(see that it doesn’t get to the FBI. We do not want another Jihad Jane!), or an anonymous blog you’ve told no one about. Let those words take shape. Let it out in the open, the darkest thoughts you’ve ever conjured. And the noble ones too.
Make the rules as you play the game (I’m with Calvin on this one). And do resign to the fact that sometimes, there are no rules(Joker, I owe you!).
Live your stories. What’s life without a little drama? When you grow old, if you have no eccentric stories to tell, you’ll be a sad old person. It’s upto you though, how much spice you want to add to your story!
Let go. The hatred and pain. The people, keep them close to your heart anyway. Someday, when you set out on another adventure, you might want to ask them along. I know my stand is foolish. But I believe that no amount of hurt or hatred can obliterate a love that was once true.
Read. It doesn’t matter if it’s a sordid mystery or a crazy book of puns. It might be wise to stick to the safe, readable stuff called literature, but sometimes even the worst book or movie teaches you stuff. Makes you laugh. All said and done, it’s what you take away from it. Nothing like books to set you free.
Find a favorite haunt. Maybe a logwood cabin by the green meadows. (I know, that’s a little too much to hope for!) Maybe a shady tree, overlooking a placid lake. Or a park bench.
Daydream. Do not listen to the ones who tell you it’s a waste of time. Because it is. The most fruitful waste of time. Oh, the kingdoms you conquer, the lands you see, the friendly dragons and the time machines. It’s fun.
Laugh. At the silliest comedies. At the absurdity of daily life. At life. At yourself. At all your little follies.
And oh, the greatest lesson, open up. There are absurdly cranky phases of emotional neediness. And also the ones in which you withdraw from the world and become a recluse. You might not handle both with equal aplomb but life’s boring without these phases. So don’t fret if you act stupid once in a while. Come to terms with it. I’m still learning this lesson.
There are lessons I’ve still not learnt though. Like that guy in Dasvidanya, maybe I need an ultimatum to stop thinking and start doing all the things on my list. The list of things to do before I die.
That's it, I'm done. This is the last of my soul searching, bare-it-all posts. Hopefully.
How do I bring back lost faith?
Learning my lessons
Smile at that hyperactive baby perched on his mom’s lap. All he wants from you is a reaction. It helps if you grin back, or even make faces at him.
Take time to watch birds or even furry little squirrels at play. Play with your pet dog, get that lazy mutt to move his butt and help you out too! It’d amaze you, the way these guys make you feel at peace.
Open your windows to the rain, get drenched. Let it wash away all the wounds, all the ugliness that has crippled your faith.
Dance. People I know run, exercise, and do what not. And yet, lazy me feels there’s nothing as liberating as dance. Close the door, and dance to the loud music. Or better, dance to your own music.
Just as it’s okay to cry once in a while, it’s okay to scream(at someone?) once in a while too. Emotions cannot be bottled up. Sometimes when you break the walls, you let sunshine in.
Write. A journal with your darkest thoughts(see that it doesn’t get to the FBI. We do not want another Jihad Jane!), or an anonymous blog you’ve told no one about. Let those words take shape. Let it out in the open, the darkest thoughts you’ve ever conjured. And the noble ones too.
Make the rules as you play the game (I’m with Calvin on this one). And do resign to the fact that sometimes, there are no rules(Joker, I owe you!).
Live your stories. What’s life without a little drama? When you grow old, if you have no eccentric stories to tell, you’ll be a sad old person. It’s upto you though, how much spice you want to add to your story!
Let go. The hatred and pain. The people, keep them close to your heart anyway. Someday, when you set out on another adventure, you might want to ask them along. I know my stand is foolish. But I believe that no amount of hurt or hatred can obliterate a love that was once true.
Read. It doesn’t matter if it’s a sordid mystery or a crazy book of puns. It might be wise to stick to the safe, readable stuff called literature, but sometimes even the worst book or movie teaches you stuff. Makes you laugh. All said and done, it’s what you take away from it. Nothing like books to set you free.
Find a favorite haunt. Maybe a logwood cabin by the green meadows. (I know, that’s a little too much to hope for!) Maybe a shady tree, overlooking a placid lake. Or a park bench.
Daydream. Do not listen to the ones who tell you it’s a waste of time. Because it is. The most fruitful waste of time. Oh, the kingdoms you conquer, the lands you see, the friendly dragons and the time machines. It’s fun.
Laugh. At the silliest comedies. At the absurdity of daily life. At life. At yourself. At all your little follies.
And oh, the greatest lesson, open up. There are absurdly cranky phases of emotional neediness. And also the ones in which you withdraw from the world and become a recluse. You might not handle both with equal aplomb but life’s boring without these phases. So don’t fret if you act stupid once in a while. Come to terms with it. I’m still learning this lesson.
There are lessons I’ve still not learnt though. Like that guy in Dasvidanya, maybe I need an ultimatum to stop thinking and start doing all the things on my list. The list of things to do before I die.
That's it, I'm done. This is the last of my soul searching, bare-it-all posts. Hopefully.
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