Gridlocked

He Sang

2010-04-15T17:17:00.002+05:30

So, he had to sing;

All alone he sat

Wondering if he could

Sing what he had.

No words could take

His flaring breath;

They came as if

They longed for death.

At the end of all words

He smiled in pain;

Yet all words he sang

Knew only joy.

When I asked him why

Why he sang;

He gave a pause

And again he sang.

When I asked him why

Why he never rhymed;

He gave a pause

And again he sang.

When I asked him why

Why he sang alone;

He gave no pause

And he sang.

The long lines

He whispered with joy;

The short ones said

He hated the weight.

He raised his pitch

And came down in low;

Even a sea

Would see no waves

Like he showed.

I asked him why

Why he sang;

He just sang.

Several breaths I took

Fearing his song;

My heart grew loud

And night seemed long.

I heard his song

Wondering all the while;

Why he sang

And never rhymed.

It gave me joy

And a frequent pain;

Every time he stopped

And started again.

Now the morning arrived

And the darkness dried;

No birds chirped;

He continued his song.

Long and long he went

Beyond what the rays

Of the sun could go.

Into my heart

His voice began to burn

And darkness cleared;

To the full the light gained.

His song never stopped

Nor the refusal to rhyme;

I asked him why

Why he sang.

He smiled and continued;

Into my nerves;

He got it all.

Only if I knew

Why he sang.

For all I thought

Why he sang,

Could give me a peace

And ease.

But this time now

I heard his song;

And realized then

The mistake I made.

I heard his song

But never what he said.

Yes,

I heard his song

But never what he said.

A song needs no rhyming

Not even a head;

A heart it needs;

Another to listen to it.

All who hear

Never get it.

It was a song

Not a nursery rhyme

Where only the last words

Seem to rhyme.

Now that I was listening

It was sweet;

It was life

Talking to me;

And asking me to live it.

Searching for poems

In songs of heart

Was a mistake

I always made.

Looking for rhyming

In last words

Time I wasted.

He was singing to me

My own life;

For me he sang

And I kept asking

Why he sang.

He sang for my joy;

He sang against my pain;

He sang in the darkness;

And also in the rays.

Singing he also smiled.

At him I never looked;

I only wanted to know

Why he sang.

He paused to see

If I would realize

I was his audience

And his only friend

My life he is.

Singing to me

A song of love.

Singing to me

All tears he rolled;

And the pitch he raised;

The whispers he rang;

Were for me

For me to listen.

And to live

Not to complain

And waste calling it a pain.

He sang for me;

For me he sang;

Always he will.

The favor I return

I live,

And he will.

... At All

2008-09-17T04:19:00.002+05:30

Imagine a day without having to think,
A day with no reason at all.
Imagine a day without a desire,
A day with no dream at all.
Imagine a day with no carving for love,
A day with no tear at all.

Imagine a day without a need to talk to a friend,
A day with no smile at all.
Imagine a heart without a need to beat,
A heart with no crack at all.
Imagine lips with no desire to kiss,
A flower with no color at all.

Imagine a hand that never longs for a touch,
Arms that never long to hug.
Where there is no desire to sing,
Or no desire to whisper.
If we have to live with no sorrow,
And never have to feel pain in our souls.
Will that be a life worth living?
A life with no life at all?

A Ball Of Hard Rock Suspended In The Space

2007-09-04T00:29:00.000+05:30

A ball of hard rock suspended in the space,
Holding no life neither giving any away,
Rolls every thirty days,
I don't understand why,
"As beautiful as the moon" they say,
It has no soul except for the poets,
Who praise it for nothing else they can get,
That moon with ugly mountains and valleys,
It's such a pity nobody sees the tragedy,
A ball of hard rock is what the moon is,
It is cold, has no heart and is ugly from close,
Worthless is what the moon is.

Let The Dark Sky Be Decorated

2007-09-04T00:05:00.000+05:30

Let the dark sky be decorated,
With the moon so beautiful and shy,
Make the breeze cool the sky,
And ask the seas to rejoice.

It's in the sky,
Often a part of all dreams,
It's in the songs of those,
Who have seen love in all means.

So many poets, so many poems,
They all can't be wrong,
About the awesome moon,
That holds hearts so strong.

The Auction

2007-09-03T23:10:00.000+05:30

There was an auction,
Of a type that was never heard.
The occasion was kept secret,
So that nobody could attend.
A heart was put on sale,
Truly it was an artifact to be sold.
The seller gave the sign,
Waiting for the first bid to arrive.
He heard no word, no voice,
Not even a whisper in disguise.
He hoped sharpening his ears,
Making himself alert as he waited.
He breathed,
"Priceless, priceless, priceless".
And carefully said,
"Sold".
He picked up the heart with a sigh,
Left the place without a quibble.
An angel appeared in his dream that night,
And explained "worthless".

No Words to Sing

2007-05-19T21:38:00.001+05:30

I tried to search for words

To find a peace from within

I tried, I tried

Through the empty space

I found no light to believe in

In my heart I searched

I heard my soul blank

I tried, I tried

Lonely I was

With no songs in my mind

Not knowing what to do

I tried to think

I tried, I tried

I still found nothing

Nothing but this poem to sing

A Destiny to Celebrate

2007-05-01T00:03:00.000+05:30

A truth in tears
A mirror of my own naivete
A shot in my heart
A drop of blood
A destiny to celebrate.

A pain to teach
A plan to excoriate
A game to loose
A conviction to stay
A destiny to celebrate.

A pinch in the throat
A dream to elevate
A pearl in the eye
A depth in the voice
A destiny to celebrate.

A love it takes
A wave of hate
A time of darkness
A wait of light
And a destiny to celebrate.

I'll

2007-05-01T00:01:00.000+05:30

I'll be there when you smile
In your heart and on your lips
I'll be there when you cry
And be the loving kiss.

I'll walk you through all your sorrows
And be the moonlight
I'll wipe every tear
Even before it comes in your eye

I'll be your solitude in loneliness
To kiss your eyes with mine
I'll be your singing rhyme
And give you all my life.

I'll give you all my dreams
And make your dreams mine
I'll fight for you no matter how I live or die

For you will be my life.

I'll be your love and joy
And the seamless open sky
I'll be your light and shine
Even in the heavens we'll fly.

I'll be there to see you walk to heaven
I will beg to God that you fly high

I'll be there for you
My love will never die.

I'll pay in tears
So that you always smile
I'll stay with you
And never say goodbye.

My love's always on the line
I know its how I am going to stay

I long to feel your hand in mine
And that is all for I pray.

Yet Another Day

2007-03-02T21:30:00.000+05:30

My breath ran faster again
I couldn’t understand where I was going
The light around stared dull
It was all heavy in my heart
I pretended I knew why I was in pain
There was yet no reason that I must cry
The tears couldn’t roll
They just ached inside my head
There was no rain pouring outside
Yet the grief was similar
I wondered how the next moments would be
The future felt all open but too narrow
Something was plugging my throat
May be it was my breath itself
I had to continue breathing
Some dreams stretched just scattered in my mind
There was little hope that they would stand again
There were still some dreams
And they were the culprits
My thoughts were all negative
Just brought more and more sting
I wished somebody should punish me
For all the sorrow I caused to myself
It was like … like a force shouting from inside
‘Somebody please pound my head hard against the wall’
But there was nobody to listen
I tried to imagine how it would feel to have my head milled
I couldn’t image the pain
I was already in so much pain
I was expected not to smile but to cry
Something made my lips tremble
And something even made my smile
I thought tears would ease it all
To weep was near impossible
Somewhere between the feeling of crying and not crying
I prayed that someone would hold my hand
And told me all that I wanted to hear
I closed my eyes and searched for a face
There were castles too far away
But I had to cry and I tried to cry
I tried as hard as I could till I felt some tears in the eyes
They were not enough
They just made things harder
I wished I could run away from myself
I wasn’t blessed even with that thing
I still kept myself there
With all of me still with me
The hours went by slowly
Until it was the end of that day
I live and die yet another day.

Let Me Watch by the Mirror

2007-02-11T01:36:00.000+05:30

Let me watch by the mirror
And memorize my face
It may just be the smoke
That will vanish tonight.
There is some sorrow
On every wrinkle
And it weeps like as if
It has lost some fight.
The poison in sweat
It never pretends to die
I am so forced to feel
Ever drop as snakebite.
There is a line on the forehead
A scar on the chin
The depth in the eyes is darker
Than a moonless midnight.
A dead smile on the lips
Is waiting to see
If I’ll loose everything
That I possessed in light.
A rash on the neck
And a pain that won’t die
The poison has severed
Sleep from the night.
As the twilight returns
Eyes open to see
If there is life left
Or was it the last night.
Sun comes at the horizon
Showing the words I must confess
I serve a sentence at the prison
I have built out of delight.
Though my face is still mine
I can’t see if it lives
For it’s end is a mystery
Leaving nothing to decide.
The bitter defeat
Is all that is clear
I loose all hope
As I watch by the mirror tonight.

A Chance To ...

2007-01-05T21:25:00.000+05:30

Oblige me a lonely chance
To have a rendezvous with you
A chance to think
To think …
Where my destination is
And where I have to go
After leaving you.

I have fire flies kept
Hidden in my eyes
My eyelashes are decorated
Decorated …
With tears that never cry
They are held back by the pain
Give my eyes a chance to rain.

Hear my bleeding voice
The twinge-of-love tonight
To the whines of my trembling lips
Let them talk today …
Give me a chance to narrate my mind
I have some questions to ask
Give me a chance to die tonight.

Like A Dream Come True

2007-01-04T23:36:00.000+05:30

I didn’t know that life could be
So beautiful yet funny
It had in store what I saw
As a colloquial dream
But then it was ‘awe’.
You were there right in front me
Like just what the dream used to be
I wish I could touch you
And see if you are real
You’re but like a dream come true.

Strangers Once More

2006-12-28T22:14:00.000+05:30

Strangers once more

Let us become

I forget everything

Like you were never the one.

Memories washed

For innocent eyes

A free mind

No more cries.

My life will change

I know for sure

Only if we could become

Strangers once more.

My Moon

2006-11-08T22:54:00.000+05:30

When I raised my head I saw the moon
I was feeling lonely so I thought
Why not talk to the moon?

“Hello”, I said. “How do you do?”
I could see pain in his eyes as he spoke
“I am the moon, I won’t talk to you”

I continued, “I feel lonely”
He quibbled in reluctance
“Do you see anybody around me?”

His words hit me hard
It was he who was lonely
I had men in every yard

“You look so beautiful
You are a symbol of beauty
In every size and nuzzle”

He got a little alert to my talk
Perhaps, I thought
He wanted to open up his heart

“The distance between you and me
Makes me look lovely to your eye
I have scars on me and mountains into the sky”

I wished I could embrace him
“You are spoken of along with the sun
And you are there in a plenty hymn”

He looked irritated but went to talk
With frustration in his mind
And sorrow in his heart

“Sun is my cousin who makes me visible
A hymn is a rhyme sang only for you
I hold no light and hear no oral”

In front of him I was so little
Smaller was my pain
I found moon an unsolved puzzle

“You are so mighty and so large
From up there you see
Everything near and far”

“Tell me about my world
The life you revolve around
Surprise me and make my fingers curl”

So I tried to start a conversation
To let the moon know it’s not alone
I wanted to hear which was to be spoken

“I see people calling out others
Crying for their unheard calls
I see withered lakes and flowers”

“I see mystery in misery
The pain in every tear
I see irony in people being happy”

“I see hearts falling in love
And hear them breaking
And I see you looking at me above”

“I see people dreaming
You know what I am talking about
I see you missing in that dream”

“I see madness
And the laughs that befall on you
I see you live and die all alone”

He was already giving me creeps
And my neck was aching
I was surprised at the knowledge he keeps

My head was heavy and eyes wanted to drain
I kept my head high looking at him
Then he spoke again

“Go home my boy
Tomorrow will be a new day
My cousin will shine and you have to play”

“I thank you for talking to me
I know your neck is aching
I am alone because no one looks up at me”

“You made my day dear friend
And we shall meet soon
Think about me when you are alone”

Why Did It Not Stop?

2006-10-30T00:20:00.000+05:30

When I saw the sun
It was setting into the horizon.
I looked at a bird
It was going away from me.
I watched a speeding car
It vanished in no time.
I heard the wind whistle
But it calmed down.
I listened to a child laughing
The voice turned dead.
I felt a soft hand in my hair
It shrugged away quickly.
A tear rolled on my cheek
It dried away and I didn’t weep.
I heard a sweet song
It ceased to sing.
I cherished a dream
It was all blown away.
I wrote a poem
It stopped rhyming.
I nurtured a plant
It stopped growing.
I held a hand
I stopped feeling.
I saw a face
I stopped seeing.
I fell in love
Why did my heart not stop beating?

It Went Down

2006-10-30T00:02:00.000+05:30

Yesterday,

My soul took a stroll,
At the silent lakeside.
I had in my pocket a toy,
I always used to hide.

God had given it to me,
Even before I was born.
Now it was all in pieces,
With all it’s sheen gone.

It was very dear to me,
But it had to leave.
That a new day could shine,
And a new name could breath.

It was my own heart,
My dearest pal.
All through it was within me,
Waiting for the final call.

Yesterday,

I sat by the cold lake,
Feeling myself guilty.
With my heart in my hand,
And a breath that was empty.

I stretched my hand,
Above the calm water.
Remembered my Lord,
And made the slaughter.

My broken mate,
Slipped from my hand.
It splashed into the mirror,
And made a circular band.

It started descending into the deep,
I was watching at it.
It was moving away from me,
Narrowing into the pit.

I shouted in silence,
‘Stop my friend.
You are going down,
This can’t be my end.’

It kept descending and darkening,
I kept shouting and sobbing.
I wished I could lift it back,
My heart was drowning.

I shouted again,
But it couldn’t hear.
‘I cry for you honey,
Come back my dear.’

It was going deeper,
Slowly getting out of sight.
It was getting harder to see,
It didn’t care for my plight.

I became speechless,
There was no air to breath.
I gasped for life,
It was going into the deep.

I was cursing my hand,
For letting my friend go.
But it wiped my tears,
And took me home.

Today,

I recollect all that I had,
With my dearest heart.
Though I can’t define,
It is still there though apart.

Coffee, Flowers and Irony

2006-09-05T23:36:00.000+05:30

A cup of coffee waiting on the table
Waiting for me
In a cup printed with flowers too amiable.

Notwithstanding the bitterness
It’s too tempting
The cup has all the flowery artiness.

How ironic is the thin porcelain
Separates the bitter
From the love in the colorful ordain.

The thin line is forbidden to be transgressed
Love is blind
But coffee can never be blessed.

Note: In the poem above I to refer coffee as a liquid that tastes bitter but is supported by sugar to make it sumptuous. There are flowers printed on the cup, and the thickness of the porcelain is all that separates the bitter (and sugarless) liquid from the lovely flowers on the outer surface. It seems ironic to me how the thin porcelain behaves – it keeps the bitter and sweet from mixing and yet if it cracks (to let them mix) it is thrown away. But for life to be lovable, bitter and sweet has to mix into a potion of love that would always sustain every soul and give hope to every heart. And often when this happens, every objective is met, every desired fulfilled and every dream materialized – it leaves nothing more to live for. Also not to forget are the effects of coffee – it reduces sleep, freshens up the mind and also reduces weight. It becomes harmful when taken in excessive quantities. All this should explain the poem.

Once Again

2006-09-05T21:53:00.000+05:30

Like a sword I raise my hand
And let it fall down
Like a door I close my eyes
And open them once again.

Like an eagle I turn my neck
And turn it back looking front
Like a knife I cut the pain
And hope to do it once again.

Like a mouse I vanish in a blink
But come in light to feed my heart
Like a gem I shine in light
But become useless once I am in dark again.

Like a tear I fall from an eye
And dry dead in vain
Like a drop of sweat I dry on the skin
I am gone once again.

Like the sun I raise every morning
But burn out by the end of the day
Like a distant star I am seen from earth
Move your eye and I vanish once again.

Like a brain I will think till I breathe
Stop the breath and I am dead
Like a heart I beat every second
If it beats for someone then I am dead once again.

The World is so Beautiful Tonight

2006-08-02T00:10:00.000+05:30

The world is so beautiful tonight

I feel the wonder in every touch of the air

The freshness in the wind comes from the rain

And dances outside my window

I hear the chirping drops

They are music to my ears

Suddenly the time has become all favorable

Everything seems to be so kind

Every person whom I see has love for me in the eyes

I am so happy and I love the way I smile tonight

I have been waiting for a night like this to come

I have waited for it all through and finally it has arrived

It feels so wonderful and so mesmerizing

I have begun to fall in love with every sight of this world I see

I have been waiting for a night like this to come

I have waited for it all through and finally it has arrived

I have no guilt in my heart when I laugh

My voice has no pain in it

I am relaxed and my breath smells perfume

As look outside my window I see the shining water drops call my name

They tell me I am the happiest thing they have seen

While falling down past all the sky

I wonder if this is a dream

But when I rub my eyes I know it is not

My heart is beating at its normal pace

And there is no steam in my head

I have never felt this way before

This is more than a reality and it is not fake

I also feel this is going to last forever

And there is no end to it

There seems to be an angel sent by God only to see that all my worries are vanished

I can touch the sky with my open hands

I spread my arms

I feel all my people embracing me

Every person I love is in front of my eyes

I can see them though they are still far away from me

I treasure get tears in my eyes

And these tears prove that my happiness is from my heart

There is reality is this bliss and it will never die

As I write this poem I know it won’t rhyme properly

All rhymes are past and this is a flow

This is how it is supposed to be

Tonight the whole world seems so wonderful

I am in love with the night outside

Though it is dark and the rain seems to make it darker

It is the best thing I see and it is here only for me

Tonight is the night of my life

This night is never going to end

For those who love the sun and the blue skies

I pity they have learnt to love only light

I am in love with the darkness

The night is in my laps and my arms won’t let it go

I never want to see the sun because it reminds me of pain

The night dissolves every poison

This night is my friend I can share anything

I tell the night about my past sorrows that have made me weak

I cry in the night and no one can see me crying

This night is taking away all pain from my tears and turning them into stars

This night is my best friend who will never leave me

The world is so beautiful tonight

I don’t mind if I never get to see the sun tomorrow

Narrow is the vision of the eyes that see only light

What an irony it is to despise darkness

Night is the time when I dream

Like a child I smile

My voice sweeter than sugar

There is no moon in the sky

I can stay relaxed as it won’t remind me of anything

The distant stars decorate the dark

The calm breeze is the music of my heart beat

The caress of darkness is a lullaby

The world is so beautiful tonight.

Fire

2006-07-27T23:24:00.000+05:30

/*****As I sit by the fire

Wondering what burns to give light

I am narrowed with only one thought

It is my heart than has been put like a spire

It has been fueled by tears

And it rises up to the sky

My soul rests beneath its weight

The bitter defeat is parallel to the fears

The weight of the heap is from the words

Of the poems and songs I have written in loneliness

The defeat was just a perception

And the fear is of undefined roads

The sword works like a feather sometimes

Sometimes it cuts the spire and rises above

It resembles the flame of the blue fire

I sink into the pyramid when I hear the chimes

The bells are sounded by the rain

The gifts of nature not withstanding

The clouds are lucky that they can break open

I swallow all the fire and smile b‘cos it’s just in vain.*****/

Compromise Razed

2006-07-05T00:20:00.000+05:30

Like a question mark after an answer to the question of sorrow,

I hold my tears back with no reasons of being calm.

The question was answered yet the definition did some harm.

The heavy clouds in my eyes strained to break into showers,

The empty space above them held the rain back with a foreign force.

The reason of the unwarranted magnetism to the blankness was coarse.

I felt something is going to change but everything around me looked the same,

I breathed a heavy sigh blaming the voice of my heart as unforgivable.

The explanation for exhaustion without exercise was unimaginable.

As I sat on the cold floor feeling my hands on its freezing smoothness,

I felt someone touching my bare heart with a razor sharp blade.

I got so many answers but I wished I did not understand them so late.

While lying on my soft bed I saw dreams that would never be fulfilled,

These dreams were seen with open eyes and yet they were involuntary.

The rudiment of this dream was my own emotion thrown in a blank trajectory.

The shape of my enriched midday meal was that of wax falling from a burning candle,

The candle was my heart and the wax the final tears.

The light of this candle enlightened my day and gave me undeserved cheers.

I didn’t give up the fight and kept going into the tunnel of that foreign force,

Reality of the force is frequently faked and emotions compromised but I raze them.

My passion for the sublimity in thoughts is assisted by my reasons and is seldom forgiven.

Today

2006-06-24T01:19:00.000+05:30

Today,

When I closed my eyes with no reason at all,

When I suddenly became silent when nobody called,

Today,

When I felt a longing for loneliness,

When I wanted to curse the whole worldliness,

Today,

When I felt myself incomplete,

When I said I need more greed,

Today,

When I told myself I need to be stronger,

When I prayed for more endurance to escape wither,

Today,

When I didn’t like my face in the mirror,

When I refused to comb my hair clear,

Today,

When I spoke with efforts,

When I pretended to listen but didn’t even hear,

Today,

When I wanted to know the reason of my life,

When I looked at my empty hands with surprise,

Today,

When I saw a watch strike 12 aloud,

When I looked up and found a dark cloud,

Today,

When I felt my forehead frowned,

When I perspired in rain to make sweat and water bond,

Today,

When I called myself a fool,

When I couldn’t smile at my past but felt something else drooled,

Today,

When I didn’t know why I wanted to cry,

When I asked myself a reason why,

Today,

When I desired a tear in my eyes,

When I tried and pleaded but couldn’t cry,

Today,

When a desire became a pain,

When there was no lesson gained,

Today,

Today I understood a mood swing is all about a musing,

Today I realized how naïve I would be sacrificing my happiness to a swing,

Today,

Today I pondered if I must acknowledge defeats and repent my wrongdoings,

Today I knew I was wrong, I was weak, I had lost, and I didn’t want anything to win.

Today,

All this was just a mood swing!

I Despise My Hardness, Strength and Power

2006-06-10T15:28:00.000+05:30

I open my eyes every morning, just to see there is light all around me,

The same space filled with darkness just a few hours ago I see.

I sit up to remind myself about my God, and I decide this day won't be like yesterday,

It would be better. Much better. Like a wonderful NEW DAY.

20 hours later I come back to the same place and despise myself,

And say again - tomorrow will be better in every way.

This continues; night after night, and one day I read my old blogs and despise myself again -

I couldn't understand how good I am today. So much has changed. AGAIN!

My purpose of writing has changed. My thinking has changed.

I have defined every feeling I feel. I have destroyed every pain that hurts. I ...

I have dissolved all my past into the new light -

the new light that sees me everyday - ray by ray - dot by dot. I...

I have divided my past with my present.

I have broken it into small pieces and understood every bit of it. I ...

I have chewed my own tongue whenever I wanted to shout. I ...

I have punished myself asking for love. I ...

I have manipulated my dreams so that they don't hurt. I...

I have filled the vaccum with my tears - nothing is empty now. I...

I have understood that crying is not painful,

but finding no shoulder to cry on is. I ... I ...

I understand I am very happy now ... at peace with myself.

Yet I despise myself again -

My heart won't break now ... I am hard.

I will forget that now ... I am strong.

I won't turn back now ... I am powerful.

I despise hardness.

I despise strength.

I despise power.

They make me hate the most beautiful of life.

I hate love. Yet I continue with it ... I love myself.

Broken Heart

2006-05-23T00:35:00.000+05:30

“Hearts open up only when they are broken”. This is just supposed to be a quote. I fully understand the voracious depth in it and I understood it much better when a friend read a piece of writing done by me. He said “you have opened your heart out”. Now that piece is none of my concern now (when I read it a few days ago, I couldn’t stop laughing at myself), what concerns to me is the reason my heart was broken before I had written that. I found many answers to it and boiled down to the belief that I was immature with my understanding of reality, and unpractical with my dreams and desires. What came out when my heart broke is still inside my heart (though I laugh at it). No heart can be broken from outside.

Birds

2006-05-23T00:09:00.000+05:30

All birds of air flying so high,
Down they stare intending to spy.
The beauty of their smooth flight,
A distant yatch sailing in delight.
Their chirping - a mesmerizing faire,
Bountiful sweet songs filling the air.
Above the beak are the lovely eyes,
Curious but shy hiding the spying lies.

These birds are the highest of all lives,
Not the ones that just fly in the skies.
They are a single species and they rule,
Beauty and charm make the other drool.
Trying to understand them is forbidden,
A gift to man – blessing better off hidden.
Gorgeous, elfin, naughty and shy,
All birds of land flying so high.

Reality is Larger than Life

2006-05-15T23:28:00.000+05:30

Long ago, while reading a review of a book, I found the author saying that ‘heart’ is a mere poetic technique. I agreed at once and I shall continue to do so. But then I was also aware that it was me too who also says “my heart says…”. I understand this is just a small expression of emotions and it is actually the part of our brain that controls our emotions that says this. Being practical makes us aware of the way our emotions are controlled by our mind and being conscious helps us control our emotions.

Sometimes we are into such great depths of our unpractical emotions that we began to feel our ‘heart’ speaking out. This is all but a simple justification of the fact that even emotions ask for practicality. The ‘why?’ asked by our heart may not necessary be the ‘why?’ we want it to ask us. It may be asking us why we are into such a state and why we are not conscious of the present realities and also the ones that seem obvious in the future.

Now this is where poets, or people who like to be poets, try to capitalize. This subject looks always interesting to the reader and if the ‘poet’ does happen to have some talent by chance, he succeeds in writing stanzas that please the said readers.

When our brain has to think more than the usual or faster than the usual, it needs more blood for energy, and it makes our heart beat faster. It sometimes so happens that though we do not want to think much, our brain knows that a particular situation asks for consciousness and subsequent thinking, and it makes the heart beat faster so that should the person decide to be rational and think, he shouldn’t find any difficulty in doing so. The brain here is asking us to think. That is, I feel, the only reason our heart beats faster even when we have not done any physical exercise. And I suppose all this to be facts and not theories.

Sustained rational thinking realizes us to the understanding that we, by all means and complexities, belong to ourselves. Though some other person may posses us implicitly, we still are an eternal possession of our own being and no one can change that. No person can own, or proclaim to be owned by, any other person as long as he is in full control of his mindset and physical life. Any further ‘ownership’ is self-contemn and that is a sin. It is an end to a person inflicted upon him by himself. We only belong to God and by His exalted wish, we belong to ourselves partially.

Let us not besiege our dignity with senseless emotions. We often do this when we decide to fall for people who too may think that this is alright. We need to realize that we should stand for people rather than falling for ourselves. Who would love or respect a fallen man? The wood of a fallen tree is useful only as firewood, but a live tree is very helpful to the mankind in many ways.

When we attempt to recreate or fake reality, it ceases to be reality anymore. Living in the present is an affirmation of a past reality that has passed away and an assertion of the future which is a more important and bigger reality.

A Smile on My Past

2006-05-02T21:52:00.000+05:30

I took to the street with the entire crowd,
Weakly bubble-like open and no shroud.
I knew my weak back had many eyes on it,
All the landmarks I crossed gave me guilt.
My try to elude the past would be a victory,
But I head a whisper reminding my history.
I knew my dream asked for benevolence,
Turning back could be a disastrous severance.
I bowed my neck and smiled at the whisper,
Then looked up and walked away in a whisker.
My smile at the whisper is a smile on my past,
It is all over but it’s voice will be there till I last.

It Was Just a Mosquito

2006-04-21T23:20:00.000+05:30

It was just a bug; a mosquito hungry and thirsty,
Flying it came; sat on my little figure hurriedly.
A sharp pin it had with it; maybe a straw like thing,
Very short at the front end; like a sword on wings.
I carefully took a closer look; resting on my chin,
It was digging in; piercing the straw into my skin.
It was hungry I suppose; I saw it was working hard,
I felt like shooing it away; but waited for it to retard.

I was baffled; I really wanted to kill it,
But I heard a voice; “you can’t end it”.
“It’s feeding itself; filling its appetite,
See it’s mass; smaller than a puck size.”
I waited for it to finish; till it was satisfied,
Then it flew away; such an energetic flight.

I felt pride in me,
I could help fill a stomach,
Even if it was with my own blood!
Who gets a chance like this?
A satisfaction in itself,
Even if it was my own blood!

A Cute Little Doll

2006-04-21T22:08:00.000+05:30

A cute little child came up to me,
With a sweet smile on lips asked she.
“Can we play with my doll, a small game?”
“No”, shouted I, I was busy, cold and lame.
Ah! My howl made her tremble and cry,
I turned to her finding a sparkling tear in her eye.
Her heart-shaped lips murmured,
“You are bad, you are rude-flavored”.
Her painfully soft voice touched my heart,
How uncouth of me, so bad on my part.
I took her in my arms and kissed her moist eyes,
I enacted a cry till she smiled in long miles.
We played for hours then with her lovely Barbie doll,
She then slept still in my arms, herself a beautiful doll.

Time Takes a Lot of Time

2006-04-06T16:49:00.000+05:30

It was a day splendid with the breeze smelling the end of winter,
A party was called celebrating the start of a new run.
All faces eager to know what’s in stock,
The music of bass beating loud, enigma frolic and fun.
The spirits were high and roses red and yellow,
The purpose sublime, casual acceptances of flowers.

For all of them it was just a time that passes by,
But what a pause in brought to me a grinding halt.
Salt tasted bitter and sweet as salt,
It was all my fault.

Across the disc I saw a glowing spirit,
There it stood eluding pride and false exuberance.
The innocence of a dew drop on a blushing lily petal,
It was all I could ever have thought of fighting my mettle.
It was a short fight I had with my ego,
Took a few ticks of clock to fix on.
I tried to keep my eyes to myself; I didn’t wish to lose my discipline,
But it was just a smile I saw and decided never to move on.

Crap! I said what is this going on?
I don’t want to enter this street; I can’t die down.
I was myself all I wanted to be but the desire changed instantly,
I wanted to know what could I be. To be there with her around.

I fought and took steps with ignorance and trembling hands,
Every single inch forward gave a new ache.
I cried for mercy which would never come,
Trying to gain land I earned names I didn’t like.
I sought for a chance to explain the loss it could help stopping,
I was given a knowledge I am like the just another guy.
I understood a bit late the depth in love is but infinite,
When I shout falling no one can hear.

13 months then are over and the grinding halt,
A new start I seek, a blessing I call.
I need time, a pause in time; not the one I had before,
I want a break somewhere in the middle of the road.

This is never as easy as it seems,
Time never waits but it makes me wait.
I wait for an end to a deceptive dream,
That took away the life’s gleam.
I wait for that to return to replenish my lost soul,
I try to enjoy and show myself a new hope.
Its still there down somewhere,
Burning like the earth’s core.

But I stand in the glory of my heart and my soul,
I will fight with the sword of my will and hope.
This talk is not shit and the previous dream too never was,
If I am misunderstood again it’s your ego and it’s without a cause.

I may be nascent but wounds will never heal,
I wanted to be scratch-less but now deep scars I feel.
Faster than time I want to forge ahead,
But who will understand, I need love, smile and time all said.

My Conditional Love

2006-03-31T00:30:00.000+05:30

Just working around with life is not easy,
I never wanted to learn so much understanding every bit of it,
But I couldn’t help I just turned love frenzy,
I tried numbness but didn’t really fit.

I try so hard to keep expectations and wants at bay,
I simplify and share all my conscience with every friend and foe I can,
But under the scorn of my emotion pathetic I lay,
Reeling under the weight of every small plan.

I keep calm and pacified every time I desire a shrill cry,
It grows inside me a burning desire and chars me to pain,
No words I have to exemplify,
Every wound is a sorry gain.

The conditions for my smile are simple,
I want joy to overpower my haunting ego,
I will not again show a single quibble,
Running away from holiness nowhere I go.

Against a belief I say it is the greatest to love than be loved,
The only condition - respect my love,
Here I ask something with a cliché flawed,
Taking a new road with an old curve.

I want things in return I am not a saint,
How can I wait when the time won’t wait?
My love will of course never die,
The four walls I live in don’t have a gate.

Condition is not an infliction to be tolerated,
A ‘no’ can always be said with a smile,
I won’t hurt you I won’t leave myself haunted,
I will not put in front of you my heart in a pile.

Come to me and I will show you how I mean,
There in no power in the way I call you,
I may not know exactly what can be good and clean,
But my love is conditional and it is all for you.

You,
And only you.

A Boat Sank in Love

2006-03-03T02:07:00.000+05:30

I have been designed to sail on the liquid of life,
I have been made of wood so that I float with less desire of mine.
I budge in the direction given by the breeze,
I move hand in hand with the water waves with no self-strife.

I walk with no legs and speak without a mouth,
I have no eyes to see and no sense of smell.
I have no dreams to cherish and no hunger to quibble about.
But I am a small boat with a story to tell.

The sunrise was as beautiful as the sunset and the moon,
The froth on the coast was fresh with distant flowers maroon.
The breeze propelling me was filled with sweet fragrance of water,
The waves under me soft with a feel of leather.

The depth of the ocean below was as inspiring as the boundless skies above,
The golden image of bright sun on its surface as beautiful as the moonlight’s bow.
The pleasant voice of the waves rubbing and kissing each other,
Made me question if this was real.

I was crashing into love and falling for the ocean,
A lifeless boat brewing in verve and emotion.
Silly was I to ask for the same in return,
I got the answer even before it was my turn.

A single wave rose as high and far as my lifeless heart could see,
And crashing it came with all the crushing force of my love I could feel.
The intensity of my love’s pride was enormous enough,
Behold my heart said – you are going down into the large trough.

My soft wood cracked with a sharp noise,
And love-filled heart broke with no voice.
I was thrown far from where I was,
Over turned with my heart torn across.

I began to sink deep into the depths I still love,
I could now feel the water I should always love.
The suffocation was overpowered by love,
I cried I was being killed by the one I love.

Now I lie with sand and dust on me on the ocean bed,
Surrounded by the cold waters for whom my tear was shed.
I wonder if my love was of any worth,
Now I am dead – a sunken boat.

I Am Bad !!!

2006-02-15T23:39:00.000+05:30

Many times I feel the necessity to share my feelings with someone and the only thing I find holding me back is my inability to give a kick start. I just don’t get the right words to make me get started with the topic. Rather a few times, I even don’t find the right beginning to my articles too. But I need to start from some where before I lose the ideas and forget the inspirations which wake up less often, and before its too late for me to share it.

For the first time in my life, today, I understand I am not a good son to my parents. Until lately when asked about me, by anyone, my parents would praise me or at least say facts in my favor. But now I am sure, when the next time they are asked something like this, they are going to prove me as a bad son and a very bad person. You know, I seem to waste so much time in front of the computer, sleep very little, eat less, don’t study my college syllabus, and don’t do many more things I am supposed to. I am bad for all this.

I bet I have justifications for all this. But who cares for them. They believe in facts and figures, that’s the way it is. And who cares for me. That’s the way it is. I never told my mother or father that I care for them or I really love them. I never had the reason. Who doesn’t love their parents? Am I really supposed say it? How can I know the rules? This is the first time I am living and this must be the last time too, and I do not have any experience. I don’t know what it means to be good or bad. All I believe is that I need to do good acts to be called as good and bad acts to be called as bad. But I don’t know what I am doing – good or bad. Then I must neither be good nor bad, and this is not practically possible. So, I guess I am worst of anyone who lives.

There are several reasons for me to believe I am very, very bad. I don’t understand what my elders want me understand, I don’t pay much attention to the way I might be drifting away from my essential priorities, I don’t like what others like, I take help of so many others and return them nothing, I don’t understand others feelings, I am a bit cold by nature and sometimes a bit mysterious, I hurt others with the words and actions I pose with, I give some weird letters to some people who mean so much to me and I probably cause trouble to them, I am after somebody and because of me that person feels very bad at times, I am not able to tell everyone that I never mean to cause any kind of trouble to them, I am not able to express that every person I know personally means something to me, I am not able to do so many things. Actually it’s not about my ability, I am just not able to do them. And for all this, I am bad, very bad.

My badness is not limited to just this. I commit crimes on myself, I hurt and cause pain to my own self. I think more than I should, and I end up with mad foolishness. Like all others I have dreams to fulfill, I don’t want to hurt myself again by allowing them to remain as dreams. I wish I never had expectations….they always hurt at places where it hurts the most. I don’t want to be desperate, it is often disliked.

I am fully aware that I have the best things in my life. I could have never asked for anything better. I know my parents love me (as they are supposed to), though they never said that to me. I have opportunities, chances, doors to heaven…..and I am wasting them, gaining nothing.

Can some one understand and tell me why I am this way or how I must change myself? I want to be good….please understand…..a person liked and loved by all. I want to be cared for, and told that I am being cared.

But here, one thing is clear; I am frustrated, and I have no right to ask someone or anyone to care for me.

Love is Poetry

2006-02-08T02:07:00.000+05:30

The more u think, the more u get closer to reality.
The more u get ther, the more u feel drained.
The more u r drained, the more u hit lower to reality.

This reality is not the one to care for,
It is a truth u need to live for.
Its not foolishness to fall in love,
It IS the reality to stand for.

The moon and the stars r splendors we wonder at,
The shines we smile at.
Seldom we realise the fact,
These r worthless baubles,
No question about that.

When u fear love, a "crush" is preferred.
A so called word, so easily differed.
The reasons unknown to me,
I say,
Its all in the way u percieve.

When u speak, love wat u speak.
And stand by it.
When u love, speak what u love.
And live for it.

93% of conversation is without words,
Eyes convey more than what they should.
Beware of ppl who understand,
More than what others really could.

Convert your tears into words,
Convert your smile into words.
Don't wonder y Shakespeare did it,
Do it cos u hav to do it.

19 year olds are no kids,
Ever heard of kids having crushes?
Let a 1 year old hav a "crush",
U must b kidding!!!

Words r many, but r they really required?
Remember the 93%, it is all it takes.
Poetry is not fun, it should never b,
If u r in love, a crush should never b.

Love is poetry.
Love is poetry.

Who Will Stop Me?

2005-12-29T19:55:00.000+05:30

Today morning I reread all that I’ve been writing (or probably just scribbling) all these days. It was a terribly sad feeling I touched my heart to, I was such a fool to pen all that; why the hell did I do it? I know this is never a question to be answered though, though I am definitely going to make it appear before me every time I sit down to write. (Truly ironic I still desire to put my life in words.) I initially used to think (deceive myself) that I write for satisfaction, but I know it is not at all that way; I am not satisfied……no I am not; just that I am happy, for sometime, until I sit again. It is so short lived; …..The water bubbles last longer….so lucky indeed they are (now I know there is no such thing as luck, just wanted to show what I feel for them). I wish I could just keep on writing till the end of my time, but I just don’t get a reason why I should be fulfilling that wish.

I remember very well the day I drew my first blood (now I am not going to give the date…..I don’t want to count it now; I am sorry I am in no mood to do it); it was the letter I wrote with no justifiable reason. I didn’t even knew that I was going to get so much into my next days here. And here I am; today……In the worst of the moods I ever had seen in 19 years (I just don’t know if they were long or short). I clearly know why I am writing this today – just for the sake of it…..just to fill a few pages and get in a new thing posted onto my blog.

But I know that some beautiful day - when God thinks I should get a gift, I am ready to die for (I don’t know what I am writing…..my words are just flowing, just bear with me) – I am surely going to thank that person – the living reason for that letter. I know it’s simply going to be ludicrous to do so; it’s just that I don’t want to take credit for a thing I had done for someone else. But I again know I must be deceiving realty again; that beautiful day is never going to come; until unless I die for it; but if I die, when I am rendered lifeless, how can I thank that person? It’s awfully rubbish of me.

Then came my series of other postings (you see I use the word series here) – usually twice a week – I was just an idiot to do that (right now I feel like hitting my head onto my computer screen). But I do remember very well all that shit I did to scribble that crap – being awake till 2 in the mornings, breaking my head on simple logics I could never manipulate, suffocating myself with the pillow perfumed with the blood of my knowledge. I remember the moments I wasn’t able to complete easy paragraphs – the fear to read what I was willing to pen down was enormous that I just wouldn’t force myself to do it. I remember how rough I felt my hand when I touched my forehead to wipe the sweat – the sweat so salty that I’d have been dead if I had to taste it. And of course the unbearable pain in my head – the think tank. (Even now I feel that thing up in there – as if I am bearing all the weight of the skies on my strength-less neck; it’s pressing me so hard down to the floor that the pain runs right through my weak body up till the toes)

Then after enduring all that…..what do I get? A couple of pages filled with junk words aligned rhythmically and proudly just to be proclaimed as pure emotions? Is that all I get? And by the way, is there anything more I want from those worthless baubles? Ya, I call them baubles…..!

And then of course, the show time; it is read by so many of my (the word here is italicized; it means more that what it can). Some of them praise me and some say nothing…….and lo! I am happy, satisfied. Then after that arrive the words – the words that make me desire deafness (I’ve already told you I don’t know what I am writing; all I know is that I am writing. Yes, I am writing). The words say “have you written this all by yourself?” Damn it! Who the hell wrote them then? I saw pain, I felt pain, to formulate all that and I am being mocked at. (Can’t even use the F-word here!....nuts!) Is this what I was writing for?

But who cares; I have said it myself so many times “I write for myself”. But now…..read my lips (I know you can’t, I am sorry), I am saying something; “I DON’T WRITE FOR MYSELF”. Yes, now you have a question for me, right? Believe me; even I don’t have an answer for that. Interesting, I know it’s very interesting and foolish too.

I have drawn many first blood and since then (don’t ask me since when) my downfall had begun (I got no idea form where I am falling, but I know I am falling). But all I can tell you is that I hate the taste of this blood. I hate what I had drawn out of life. Yes, I know that it’s a rather vague statement, and that the validity that it contains is merely a bunch of words that I’ve spoken before.

I always try to be so much; I ask for the best out of my behavior; I work with tears to become the man I want to be…..what do I get then? Satisfaction, just that…..what do I do with it. I am going to carry that to my grave? I am sick of being so satisfied with these short lived trinkets. I want a life to be with me – not mine – though; and I know it’s never going to be with me. Guess why; because I am something beyond madness. Feel like laughing…..go ahead. Someone has said this to me, and I know it’s true.

Every time I search for a name I get that word in my mouth; every time I stretch my palms, I can touch it’s warm breath; every time I feel my heart beating, I feel it’s presence (for my heart is not inside me anymore). Now I am not going to write a few more examples just to express the fire in my belly. As you can see I am just trying to fill a few pages. I might really be mad by doing so. Actually, yes, I can be a sort of beyond madness too. Nuts!

When I was just deciding what to write today, I had thought of many nice and warm poetic lines; but now they hurt me. They are definitely the lines I fear to read. I don’t want to be a professional writer, writing with an objective of attaining sublimity.

I am definitely happy now. What kills me is the tomorrow I am going to see. I am definitely eager to have it in front of my eyes (may be I am not)…..but what if I see myself as a looser. No, I don’t want to be a loser. I want to win everyday of my life. I want life.

I think I now feel like ending this senseless talk I am typing. I am sorry I had to write this. Maybe you were expecting something else, something like a routine, I always write. Believe me I know I am making a mistake by posting this, but what can I do, I need something to post! And of course, I am going to get back to my regular writing very soon. I like doing it.

And yeah,…. the title, “Who Will Stop Me?”. I just mean to ask everybody if there is someone who is going to stop me from writing ideas hated and opposed by the world. You know that generation gap, clash of ideologies, etcetera, etcetera,…..all those things come up; I am not going to care for them. I’ll be on my own – an individual - irrespective of my wants and desires; to hell with them. One day I am going to prove myself that I don’t need that thing. Yes I’ll do that, even if it means killing my conscience. I just hope I am not deceiving myself.

The heaviness in my eyes is too much now with tears desperately trying to fall down. But before I close this, please allow me tell you one thing – never fall in love with that TYPE of things. Please, I want you to be happy, very happy.

I am sorry.
(Just felt like saying this.....no idea why I felt that way…..ENOUGH.)

Why did I write this???

2005-12-27T21:00:00.000+05:30

Restlessness – Hopelessness

With tears in my eyes, I sit down to force out a few emotions and put them on the screen glowing right in front of me. Some vague songs flow in my mind but I can’t stop myself from thinking what I shouldn’t. With only one hope that I don’t break into tears, I keep typing and ask my weeping conscience to give out a few words that may sooth me. I try harder and harder but I don’t know, I guess even I want me not to push saliva into my throat to massage the hard pinch I feel in there. Even as I think that I can very well handle this type of feeling, I will not stop having my eyes filled with tears crying for someone to be by my side. This feeling just arises from nowhere suddenly and takes away all they joy I was having by allowing myself to forget about it. Just until a few hours back I was in one of my happy states and I couldn’t even think that this very next moment would get smile off my face. But suddenly my heart starts to beat faster and it’s different now. Nobody has said anything or done anything.