Ions of Imagination

Different

2011-12-24T23:59:00.000+05:30

While we speak the same words,
What we convey is different.
While we hear the same words,
Our interpretations are different.

While we cherish the same moment,
What we experience is different.
While we remember the same moment,
Our recollections are different.

While we look at the same world,
What we perceive is different.
While we live in the same world,
Our worlds are different.

In Memoriam

2009-09-03T23:02:00.002+05:30

In the end, I never really found myself.
Instead, I lost myself somewhere, sometime, in the clouds of goodness.

Perhaps, it was the best that could ever have happened, and I am glad it did happen that way...The Long Story formally ends today, marking the 100th post of this blog. Acknowledging it's end is the only thing left to do, and I do it today.

It will lie alone, waiting to be remembered, recollected... for that one last time, and that's going to be it. Period.

A Thousand Beginnings, A Single End

2009-08-27T22:17:00.000+05:30

I usually know how to end something, even before I begin with it. It's not something that I figure out in the middle of the process... rather, it so happens that I try to figure out the process by which I can reach the very end I desire. With that, there are a thousand different ways I can begin, and still have the same end.

I know the end, but I am trying to find the right way to begin...

Those Little Pieces

2009-08-18T23:14:00.002+05:30

"It's funny how a person can break your heart, and you can still love them with all the little pieces"

-Adya on Facebook

Tunnels to Nowhere

2009-08-15T22:40:00.002+05:30

Cement, childhood. Those two words, in one place suddenly made me remember of one of the most enjoyable activity I have indulged in. Building tunnels in a pile of cement. I remember the network we used to construct, me and my friends. It was extensive and well-connected, and we used to spend hours to create our city among the tunnels. Tunnels, that eventually led to nowhere.

Where is that innocence, where we didn't know why we are building something, but still enjoyed building it? I mean, if I look now, my decisions on doing something are based on what I can get out of it. I don't do anything just for the heck of it. Those days are long gone.

But that brings me to a more philosophical question. Is the world really a place where each person has to have a purpose, a goal? Or is the world a place where we're supposed to live as we wish, without bothering about our purpose of living? That's something worth arguing about and I have sat in a heated argument which shed a lot of light on aspects of the question. It's too difficult to answer, according to me.

Chivalry or Feminism?

2009-08-11T20:01:00.002+05:30

I recently met an old friend of mine, one I hadn't met for ages (or so it seems). It was fun to relive a fast-forwarded time interval, where almost everything changed, and indulge in talks about living in a modern society, especially one in which time is so precious.

First we came out of an Auto, and she took out a Rs.50 note. I said, "I am paying", thrice, each time I was louder than before, and finally I paid. I somehow feel responsible for paying... that comes with some degree of chivalrousness I expect myself to possess.

Quite the opposite, was the time when we ordered Cold Coffee at Barista. She paid for her half, and I let her pay so, albeit with some reluctance. Well, she was going to give me a treat, but I didn't even ask for what. I simply said that she should be happy I am letting her pay for her half. That's the part where I assume the role of a feminist, who believes in gender equality, in almost everything (God created us unequal for a purpose, so there will be something in which that inequality is desirable - therefore - almost).

It seems the two qualities are incompatible with each other, and this resulted in confusion that gave me a hard time today. The easy way out of the mess was to simply give a treat to her. I wish I had a reason... I wish.

That One Moment

2009-07-31T00:36:00.010+05:30

She sat down, in wait...

They came back, all of them. Those memories rushed by so fast, that it was impossible to catch even one. But she didn't have to. Each got etched, almost burnt, into her conscious. She wasn't going to forget, for a long time to come. A dream had come true, the effort had been recognized, and hope had borne fruit.

... still she was waiting...

What now? What could she possibly say, or do, that could express what she was feeling? No dictionary possessed the word she wanted to say, no action could even approximate the way she felt. Even the rainbow didn't contain the color of her thought.

... and suddenly...

A tear flowed down, without her consent, while her emotionless face slowly registered surprise.

--------------------------
Happiness doesn't always bring a smile to one's face, does it?

Unobservable Beginnings

2009-07-28T20:37:00.005+05:30

The beginnings of a friendship are unobservable up till the point where you start considering someone as your friend.

I've yet to see someone who can say that a particular point of time is going to be the beginning of a friendship. Partnership (I am talking in a corporate sense, before anyone comes up with weird ideas), maybe, but not a friendship. It's like, once you become friends with someone, you start to understand as to when, approximately, you actually started thinking of that particular someone as your friend, but not a moment earlier.

The Choice

2009-07-23T22:38:00.003+05:30

You can fault my style, but you can't fault my choice.

I can picture myself saying this someday, when it won't seem like a random thought at all. What makes me smile is the fact that the way I pictured it depicts me as smiling when I say it, and that's a welcome change in the mood indeed.

And I know I shouldn't be writing about this anymore... but sometimes it's easier to write and forget. I consider this as an artifact left behind by all that has passed.

The Attempt

2009-07-21T04:30:00.003+05:30

Sometimes, the beauty is in the attempt.

- One Tree Hill

You and I

2009-07-21T02:20:00.010+05:30

"Only you and I can really know what we mean to each other. That's because you're like a wordless poem to me - one that I can always cherish in my mind, but can never recite to anyone else. And I am the same to you."

And that, for me, is the beauty of a friendship.

If You Know...

2009-07-13T16:15:00.003+05:30

Don't be arrogant if you know something that the others don't, because they always know something that you never will.

Silence Speaks

2009-06-30T22:29:00.013+05:30

Try as you may,
It's still there to find.
You're making a mistake,
In keeping it all inside.

Your eyes speak, nonetheless,
Coz it's there on your mind.
You can't stay silent,
If you have something to hide.

-------------------------
A poem based on a story I cannot tell - A riddle.

Was It You?

2009-05-21T00:37:00.000+05:30

Lost in the starry skies, the nightly blue,
Spurred by that evanescent glimmer, I wondered anew,
Was my imagination so real, so true?
Or was that scintillation simply you?

Time

2009-05-13T10:55:00.003+05:30

Time...
Sometimes it makes a wait feel like eternity.
And sometimes eternity itself feels like a moment.
It is not constant when we need it to be.
But sometimes it is all that remains invariant.

The Conspiracy Theory

2009-05-02T23:44:00.004+05:30

Maybe life is just one big conspiracy to get you to the place where you truly belong.

For Friends

2009-04-22T20:53:00.004+05:30

I wish my friends knew how indebted I am to their being in my life... and then they'd understand that what I do for them, is just a way to show that I appreciate them being there for me.

One Thing

2009-04-08T20:57:00.003+05:30

One thing I forget to capture... a smile.
One thing I remember to wipe... a tear.
One thing I love to give... happiness.
One thing I hate to keep... sorrow.

A Few Select Quotes

2009-04-02T18:37:00.003+05:30

1. "We are each cast into the same world. It's the situations we find ourselves in, and the choices we make, that make our lives unique."

2. "A true friendship always fosters in the subconscious, much before we even realize it's existence."

3. "Love is giving someone the power to destroy you, but trusting them not to."

What I Am Not

2009-04-01T20:32:00.007+05:30

I am not a writer, even though I have stories to tell.
But give me a pen, and I may end up writing the unforgettable.

I am not a designer, even though I have visions to depict.
But give me a canvas, and I may end up creating the unthinkable.

I am not a photographer, even though I have moments to capture.
But give me a camera, and I may end up snapping something beautiful.

I am not a composer, even though I have music to realize.
But give me a studio, and I may end up composing something magical.

I chose to do something else, and I am sticking by my decision.

Realization Dawns

2009-03-28T15:12:00.002+05:30

"I know I am not good at what I do."

Everything I do, is flawed in some way or the other. And I know it is so... and now I have one opportunity with me, to make the most of the time I have, and either remove the flaws, or to stop doing those things altogether.

The Day of Days

2009-03-19T12:01:00.002+05:30

There are two ways to remember a day which absolutely changed my life.

Either I can think of it as the day on which everything went wrong, or I can think of it as the day after which everything became right.

If I didn't know any better, I would have to say I chose to remember it as the latter, and cherish it for the way it turned out for if the day hadn't unfolded the way it did, I wouldn't be who I am.

Phase 3

2009-03-18T23:27:00.001+05:30

- - -- -------
Phase 1: Chaos
It's just too hard to understand what's happening, has happened. Attempting to understand is a blunder, to say the least. Anything can cause you to be unstable, and unusual things make you cry, smile or laugh.

Phase 2: Dormancy
Everything's much more subdued, but you never know when it may all erupt. And erupt, it does. Often at times when you really don't want it to.

Phase 3: Peace
It proves a long wait, but it's what is the best part. Smiling back at all that happened, with fond memories of both good and bad times. What happened, happened, and to be at peace with it is something golden.
- - -- -------

The Flaw in the Essence

2009-03-15T13:13:00.005+05:30

"The reason I value you so much is not because of who you are, but because of who I am when you are with me."

This is one of the better thoughts I have come across recently. Of course, it's wonderful in a way, but also extremely selfish. The whole I, Me, Myself principle comes into play... something I try and run away from.

But the question still remains, "Why do I value the people I consider to be my friends?". For that, I have no clear answer, for there are too many reasons, too many incidents, too many conversations and too many moments, through which these friendships have slowly evolved. The answer lies there, and I am happy to let it remain there, hidden, as if I find it out, I will consciously pursue a friendship based on that answer - and that's something I would never want to do.

Some questions don't need answers... they need understanding instead.

Reacting to the Anonymous

2009-03-01T21:51:00.005+05:30

Every once in a while, I come across this feeling that someone knows... knows more than what I am willing to share, or more than what I assume. On top of it, it often so happens that the feeling arises due to tantalizing coincidences, which I feel, might not be coincidences at all. There's no way to know, and I feel that there is no need to. At least not for something I am trying to forget...

But then comes the part of reacting to the coincidence, which is one of the toughest things to do. It's wise to just hope that the coincidence was exactly that... a coincidence.

I Don't Know You Anymore

2009-02-18T14:25:00.008+05:30

There was a time, I remember,
In the moments when we were together,
We laughed, we cried, but we never realized,
That it won't be forever.

We believed it was for evermore,
Deep within we felt that we were sure,
We forgot, moved on, so far away,
And I, I don't know you anymore.

Now I, don't know you, know you anymore...
I, don't know you, know you anymore...

Note: This is entirely fiction.

White Noise

2009-02-17T20:05:00.006+05:30

As if, for hope,
there was no prayer.
As if, for comfort,
there was no tear.

As if, in dreams,
there was nothing to see.
As if, for happiness,
there was nowhere to be.

Sometimes sense,
doesn't have its own voice.
Sometimes life,
seems to be like white noise.

But sometimes perspective,
is all that is needed.
Sometimes noise,
holds it's own secret.

As if, in every prayer,
there was always hope.
As if, a tear itself,
was a source of comfort.

As if, in every dream,
lay a beautiful vision.
As if, it was within self,
that happiness was destined!

~ By Akanksha and Me.

The Leap

2009-02-14T18:00:00.008+05:30

After a certain period, everything settles down... everything feels lighter. It's true that time heals every wound. However, it sometimes so happens, that just when you want to take that final leap to freedom, continuity weighs you down...

Living in Memories

2009-02-12T22:54:00.004+05:30

Everyone walks down memory lane once in a while. They go back, reminisce about what they did, and how they could've done things better. They fondly recall the good old days, which went by like a breeze, as well as the difficult ones, in which time seemed to stand still.

But sometimes, when they look back, they find that they have done some things, which they can't believe they did. As if it couldn't possibly have been them, who did such things. And that's exactly when they realize that they've changed, maybe for the worse, but usually for the better.

If the best teacher in life is experience, then the reservoir of knowledge that it possesses, are your memories. Cherish them, for they tell you more than what you know or can understand about yourself.

It Happens

2009-02-12T21:06:00.003+05:30

It happens, you know. Suddenly, out of the blue, it just pops out. And then, whatever you know, whatever you do, doesn't help at all... the best way out is do nothing but wait for it to pass.

Likes and Wants

2009-02-06T19:35:00.001+05:30

There's a big difference between saying, "I'd like to..." and "I'd want to"
For it may so be, that you don't want what you like, or even worse, you don't like what you want.

Everything to Lose, Nothing to Gain.

2009-02-05T23:31:00.002+05:30

"There occur times when you have nothing to lose, and everything to gain, and it's up to you to act, and gain what you never had.
However, there also occur times, when you have everything to lose, and nothing to gain, and then all you can do is fight to cling on to everything you do have."

Why

2009-02-05T23:02:00.002+05:30

For a large part of my life, I have been left grappling with just one question

"Why?"

Be Yourself

2009-02-01T11:26:00.004+05:30

It is sometimes difficult to accept people for who they are,
but it is more difficult to accept them for who they are not.

Wondering

2009-01-28T21:50:00.005+05:30

Sometimes I can't even stand being me, and yet, during those very moments, I find my friends standing by me. And at that time, I figure out who they really are...

More Than I Am Able...

2009-01-26T00:44:00.003+05:30

I want to see, more than what's visible to me.
I want to hear, more than what's audible to me.
I want to say, more than what I can speak.
I want to sense, more than what I can touch.

Kabhi Sapne Dekhe Hain?

2009-01-02T22:25:00.002+05:30

Ek sapna teri haqeeqat badal sakta hai.
Tujhe jeene ke liye majboor kar sakta hai.
Wohi sapna teri sachchai ban sakta hai.
Tujhe teri raah dikha sakta hai.

Sapne dekh mere dost.
Sapnon mein ek nirali aashiqui hai.
Sapne dekh mere dost.
Sapnon mein ek ajab zindagi hai.

In the Middle, After the End

2008-10-29T22:18:00.002+05:30

Thinking of a past, of a future uncertain,
Time, it's never still.
Dreaming of a past, of a future unwritten,
Time, it's forever to fill.

A poem it needs, it never will get one,
Time, it's not for amends.
Stuck in the middle, after the end,
Time, it's all that lends.

As They Stand...

2008-10-04T22:20:00.000+05:30

Life: Dynamism entrenched in an ironic constancy.
Principles: Idealism sacrificed for inescapable reality.

When cruX ends...

2008-09-21T16:43:00.003+05:30

It takes a while for me to compose myself after I think of the day after... for the day after will be the day, as it was, two years earlier.

cruX... CReated Under eXtremity, took off somewhere before Rendezvous 06, in the form of a poster for the Shivalik Fest - Phosphorescence that never really happened. I remember at that time, the enthusiasm with which I designed that poster for the Fest... it generated tremendous hype, and cruX was suddenly the acronym about which everyone wanted to know... but I wasn't going to tell anyone about it then.

The poster led to 6 club secretaries calling me up to get their club poster made for Rendezvous 06... and thats how my tryst with Rendezvous began... and thats how the symbol cruX came to be recognized.

Things werent all rosy as I found people tampering with my posters during Rendezvous 06... something for which I still loathe them... they removed the symbol cruX... without asking me. It wasn't as if I wasn't accomodating.. it was just that I didnt want others to take credit for my work.

Due to that debacle, I grew very close to the symbol, and it gained a special significance for me. After a few months, it underwent subtle modifications with the changing times, to reflect myself more accurately...

Rendezvous 07 began on an odd note... I didnt want to design for it at all, but then I was promised passes for designing... and I took up the lucrative offer, with some riders. I had no love, and no hate for the fest. It was pure greed that drove me. I got my passes, and gave them all to one single person, who I wished for from the bottom of my heart. It was a promise I had to fulfill.

Rendezvous 08... Is a dream come true. I couldn't have asked for a more spectacular ending to one of the most dramatic of journeys... for 3 months, I was there, working to get that dream as true as possible... and finally, it did come alive.

It started off with the font I had initially began with... Lysandria. I use that font very rarely, if ever, and I save it for the creations I wish to be the most beautiful. Lysandria is the font which I used to overlay cruX with the word "Life", which lent it the meaning - "Life: Created under extremity". I dont think many people noticed that, and to be very honest, who would care anyways?

So after that, I recoined the phrase "The Magic Returns" which I had thought up for Rendezvous 07, and it fit in so well with the theme for this year... MAGIC. And yea, it has truly been magical.

When I got down, I had this grand plan... I wanted everything to be coherent, and a part of a single entity. That plan couldnt include any other designer, as nobody else could share the same vision as mine. And after the initial hiccups, I grew sure that this was the case.

I knew what I was out to achieve, and I knew it would drain me out fully, while leaving me satiated with contentment. I have worked towards this one day, where I can notice that this Rendezvous will probably be a benchmark for future Rendezvous' in terms of Look and Design.

It's been a magical journey, and the journey ends tonight... it's time for Blitzkrieg.

I Have Learnt

2008-08-26T13:39:00.002+05:30

I've learnt to acknowledge life's sudden turns,
To understand the message they carry.
To undertake the test of time,
And overcome enduring mutiny.

I've learnt to uphold promises,
To break them in eventuality.
To build a set of ideals and principles,
And make them last till eternity.

I've learnt to appreciate the smaller things,
To desire them innocently.
To apprehend my wild dreams,
And comprehend their reality.

I've learnt to be happy,
To free myself from negativity.
To be joyous, and fun-loving,
And simply be me.

I've learnt to do what I love, and to love what I do.
I've learnt to live a life, and to have a life to live.

Life...

2008-08-24T01:50:00.003+05:30

Life isn't an exam, it is an assignment.

It has to be worked upon, improved upon with assiduous effort each and every day uptil the submission deadline. It isn't something that you can keep messed up until the very last moment, and suddenly make it brilliant with a brilliant ending.

An Imagination Runs Wild

2008-08-12T19:53:00.009+05:30

Sometimes I just want to be out on the beach, watch the sea, and hear the noiseless whispers of the waves...

Sometimes, I just want to watch the river flow by, and listen to the streams and currents engaging in an intense colloquy...

But sometimes, I just want to be out there, in front of a lake, with the dead silence granting me peace, that can never come with any sound.

And sometimes, I sit back, not wanting anything at all... except for, maybe, happiness.

Life is a Flower

2008-07-27T21:58:00.012+05:30

It is morning,
Its the winds of change that blew.
Life is calling,
Everyone's waiting for you.
It is happening,
Everything's changing, its true.
Just keep smiling,
And the world will smile with you.

~ Inspired by the Song: Life is a Flower, by Ace of Base. And therefore, the title.

It All Ends...

2008-07-20T19:43:00.005+05:30

It was a coincidence, but it was real,
Unorthodox, it truly was.
It was an oddity, it was an ordeal,
Eventful, it surely was.

As from then onwards, it all started,
I never realized till late.
As from nowhere, transformations happened,
I discover them till date.

Surely, it is all worth treasuring,
I can never forget it.
Obviously, I simply cant imagine,
A Life now without it.

I don't want to look back,
But then I start reminiscing.
There is nothing that I lack,
But still I keep waiting.

It's not right, I can understand,
I know it all too well.
I always try, and then I shy,
From getting out of my shell.

Some stories don't come to fore,
But every story has to end.
This is such a story, therefore,
For now, my friend, it all ends...

The Leaves Fall...

2008-07-10T22:11:00.007+05:30

I have been a silent spectator, maybe for many years... as I grew up watching it rise alongside me.

As I reminisce, I had always seen the tree as leafless, and lifeless... I had no desire to see it differently. It had a certain charm to it, that greenery could never have granted. It seemed enchanting, and possessed an enigma that was deemed to flow through it's veins. It stood, weathering all storms as they came, sapped all the heat of the sun without pain. It was for many like a pillar that would remain standing, but then, it held a secret of it's own... It was hollow from inside.

It wasn't the storms, and the heat was nothing, but then, there was an eternal drizzle. I wasn't concerned about the tree at that time, was preoccupied with a lot more... nobody is concerned when it drizzles, right? And slowly, the water seeped in. The next time I saw, I witnessed the miracle, and what stood in front, was a magnificent tree, as green as never before.

The hollow was filled with water, which had granted a magical life to the tree. And as magical as it was, the water inside wasn't really water at all... it was an elixir, flowing generously to each and every part, reinvigorating and replenishing what in all eventuality would have been lost otherwise.

It was nice looking at the tree, as it played with the winds, as cheerful as ever, but then came a storm. It's ruthless destruction ruined everything, everything except the tree's core. The tree was still filled with that elixir, an elixir that will remain for eternity. Slowly it grew back its branches, it's leaves, and drew back it's elegance... but there was about to come a time, when it wouldn't matter...

Autumn... a time when the green turns brown, and the trees shed their leaves. The time had come for the tree to shed it's leaves, but again, as magical as it was, it was growing them instead. I patiently waited. And then came the time when I saw a leaf fall... soon, many followed...

Someday, I will see that tree back in it's grand old form... as grand as ever, as leafless as it was. It will tower above the rest, and still, have that elixir flowing through... an elixir that came with the drizzle that still continues. But for now, I just watch, as the leaves fall.

The Recursive Universe

2008-06-30T15:27:00.005+05:30

About a century ago, the atom was considered to be the fundamental particle of nature. Indeed, the word atom (from greek: atomos) means "unable to be divided" and the particle stood true to the word that was assigned to it by John Dalton in 1808, when he had put forth his Theory of Atom.

Things have changed since then. The atom is not a fundamental or even indestructible particle, as had been described by the wisest of scientists of that time. The discovery of the nucleus, along with subsequent discoveries of the Proton, Electron, and the Neutron established that way beyond doubt. The atom had a structure, and a well-defined one.

This structure has intrigued me ever since I came to know of it's existence. The way I see it, the atomic structure reminds me of a planet system - the solar system in particular. Electrons revolving around the nucleus gives a familiar image of planets revolving around the Sun. I don't care about the fundamental difference in the nature of forces that exists in these two systems as nobody can even tell me why these two forces exist - yet. They simply exist for now.

I feel that in each of those tiny atoms, resides another planetary system, a system which we categorize as different for the moment, due to our inherent thought process. I feel, that there may reside a life in those very atomic planetary systems, a life which we will never be able to ascertain. I sense, that our solar system is all but an atom, a part of an object which we describe as the universe, but which in turn, has a small identity in a universe possessing ours. I don't think they are identical in all aspects except scale, but I do feel that the parallels drawn are not ill-conceived. The recursiveness of the universe would be an infinite end to a finite beginning, and an apt one for that matter.

If there is anyone out there who can clearly refute this feeling, I would like to hear them. I however have a question to pose to before they do.

How can we even define what life is when we don't know ourselves? For life may be present in places we may never know, in ways we can never imagine.

P.S. I am expecting Harish to blast this one into our tiny universe. :-)

Indirections to Directness

2008-06-19T20:18:00.000+05:30

Seconds trickle by...

I count them. I count seconds as they pass, as they stealthily turn into minutes, into hours, into days, into months, and finally into years. I count them down, as they slowly pour out of me, relieving me further, each second of the day.

Time, a savior that I have placed unprecedented faith in, has held my brittle self together, although in the process of doing so it has trapped me tightly in a binding. I don't attempt to free myself as I know with time, I will stand free and whole once again. The pieces will join back together...

I wait for that time, when directness will be the norm rather than exception, and it would've been much sooner had it not been for my desire to oblige my promises. But I cant just wait around forever for this to happen. I always go ahead as far as I can trying to be direct but end up with an indirectness that I have somehow grown to love. Those indirections are as direct as they can possibly get...

As I think of moving forward, I realize there is no going back... and this realization deters me most of all.

A Diamond in the Sky

2008-06-17T21:41:00.001+05:30

And there 'twas, shining 'neath
The vastness overt, the olden sky.
A new anew, wish o'er existence
Thy brilliance grows as years go by.

The Other Side of the Hedge

2008-06-15T20:21:00.000+05:30

"If you write that, I'll write my side of the story aswel."

A simple sentence can stimulate thought in even the most numb.

There is this famous proverb which states, "There are two sides to every story". My story is no exception. However, it is my desire to start off on a different note, a different story.

The Other Side of the Hedge - some might be familiar with the title and some with the story itself. I attempt no revisit to the same, but attempt the construction on the concept of the "Hedge" presented in it.

The fundamental aspect of the hedge, is that you can't see through it but you can always go through it to the other side, and then see as much as you want. This aspect always presents a tempting prospect, of simply passing through and seeing it all. The hedge is but, a natural boundary, shielding what lies ahead.

The hedge, is what I consider to be the demarcation between the two sides of the story. I don't know what lies on the other side, and it has stayed this way for a considerable period of time. I don't know if I want to know about the other side for it may foster changes with a dynamism that I might not manage to cope up with. On the other hand, it might just result in a finality in the changes that I wouldn't want either. The pace at which I am evolving is just right, and my side of the story is a dream coming true, slowly but surely, while I let go of dreams which never can come true. It is therefore, that I think of letting things be the way they are, hanging in a delicate balance, and I dont think of disturbing a sort of equilibrium. Have I ever attempted to pass over to the other side? No... never thought of doing that, but I have tried to reconstruct an imaginary version of the other side by myself... a fairytale one. I live by this construct, and I don't want anyone to break it for me. Someone has rightly said, "Ignorance is Bliss".

However, these reasons aren't the only ones when it comes to keeping myself in the dark. I set ideal principles and values for myself, and I try to stick to them for as long as possible. If I need to deviate, I attempt to find compelling reasons to do so. Most of all, there are some promises to myself, which bind me together, and even though the promises seem to be past their time, I find tranquility in the fact that I still keep them.

Someday, my side of the story will witness a fitting end, and from that day, my side of the story will not remain mine, but of my past.

A Question Mark's Journey

2008-06-06T20:57:00.002+05:30

Floating in nothingness, of what comprise my thoughts,
Was a Question Mark contorted, loopy and distorted.
Shining in darkness, off the ever varying lights,
It begged to be questioned, explained and answered.

Eventually it was, and it transformed by itself,
It got eventfully straightened, planed and ironed.
An exclamation mark arose, as a phoenix from ashes,
A silence it exclaimed, reinforced and energized.

Living in harmony, the line faded into oblivion,
Leaving a mark indelible, decisive and undisputed.
The dot lay etched, and was clearly a full stop,
At which everything hopelessly, resignedly ended.

Friends...

2008-05-28T00:16:00.001+05:30

"Our friends are as much a product of circumstances, as they are of our wishes."

I Write My Own Silence

2008-05-17T00:13:00.002+05:30

For a moment I feel saturated,
In a moment I grow hollow.
But the thoughts that now engage my mind,
Just don't seem to mellow.

I sit bereft, in pure solitude,
Every single day in remembrance.
My promise guides me to a state in which,
I write my own silence.

My Way Around Truth

2008-05-16T17:01:00.002+05:30

"I don’t hide the truth, but I don’t reveal it either."

An Imagination Revisited

2008-05-11T20:52:00.002+05:30

It played on, as if it would never end. The voice was all but silent, while the chords sang it all.The raindrops were silently applauding the rhythm, with the whole sky listening. For a moment, the eyes glanced, and then they shied away...

Two pairs of footprints decorated the mud, embedding their telling tale in a canvas too big for them to fill. The raindrops filled up the trenches, and highlighted their story as they diverged. The rain then washed the story away...

A blank parchment, hidden away, was sealed so that it never could be opened. But it opened up to the raindrops that were never meant to come in. It revealed it's blankness, but had lost it's purpose. It dried beneath a fire, that eventually burnt it away...

The ashes remained, and they were there to stay...

The Song of the Nightingale

2008-04-27T08:50:00.000+05:30

In the night, echoing from afar,
A whisper arrived,
who wouldn't have wanted it to?

The song began, it was enchanting.
It never stopped,
who would have wanted it to?

Those chirps, those whistles,
Those trills captivated,
who wouldn't have wanted them to?

Those nights, those moments,
They never disappointed,
who would have wanted them to?

The Usual

2008-04-26T18:12:00.001+05:30

When I did do it, I thought it was the most unusual way to do so. Nobody could have expected it of me. Hell, I didn't expect it of myself either. But yea, fortunately or unfortunately, I did do it. The Usual.

To put it the way I did, would somehow be inappropriate. It isn't how it is meant to be done. But I think it was the best way I could have gone about it. The Usual.

The way it all unfolded was unexpected, but the final sequence was expected more than ever. There was little chance that I could have got it right the first time. The Usual.

Mathematics was an integral part of my arsenal, and integers were my resource. I took the constituent digits of the numeral, did addition, multiplication, substitution, everything at my disposal... but somewhere my calculation went wrong. The Usual.

Somewhere deep down, I am still confused about it. The Usual.

My Life...

2008-04-25T22:59:00.001+05:30

My world is sadistic, while I remain optimistic for change.
My thoughts are narrow, while I jostle for space.
My dreams are dead, even before they came alive.
My life is borrowed, I did away with mine.

Away

2008-04-25T21:33:00.002+05:30

Pored into your eyes, then shied away,
You were staring right into mine.
Distanced myself, for I couldn't give away,
Secrets as dark as sunshine.

Look into my eyes, and then fall away,
You will be falling in time.
Distance yourself, and then fly away,
Carrying secrets sublime.

To "My Wish..."

2008-04-24T17:31:00.001+05:30

Uncertain with certainty, with a foot neither here nor there,
Backward or forward, maybe stillness ought to prepare.

Time will come soon, though it already had arrived beforehand,
Moments were lost in togetherness, only to be gained back in kind.

Worlds coalesced, as if they were one since time immemorial,
It had to happen, were words that simply belied the eventual.

Aptly lost hereafter, in the unspoken words of one another,
Will be two imperfect people, who are perfect for each other.

Life Goes On...

2008-04-23T16:57:00.001+05:30

I gazed towards the horizon
Black burning bright
Fog surrounded my vision
In this day of night.

I felt warm,
Frozen, I was.
A sense of feeling formed
Numb, still, I was.

Perplexing paradoxes
Appeared before me
Blind, in a sense,
I found no sense to see.

A silent breeze whispered
Out of oblivion, as it trickled
A new direction, it divulged
And the signs of change, it fostered.

I swung around,
My eyes closed in hesitancy.
Warmth flourished
And blood rushed through me.

I stole a glance, and was engrossed
By golden streaks spreading across
Heralding a new dawn, they entangled
Creating a new emboss.

Paused in the moment,
In the thoughts I wove,
I heeded to the new direction
Beside which I couldn’t move.

I still stay in the night
Of the day, I dream along
In this paradox I stay, still
Life Goes On...

~ April 19 2007

The Truth

2008-04-22T01:22:00.000+05:30

At the heart of the chamber, lies a great hollow.
At incredible depth, an incongruous shallow.

Filled to the brim, it empties away,
Listening to echoes, boldly gone astray.

Paradoxical as it may prove to be,
Truth is stranger than fiction to see.

You may never know, as I may never tell.
You may never discover, as I conceal it well.

Worthless

2008-04-12T21:16:00.002+05:30

The worthless may have a worth beyond measure.

Absence

2008-04-07T18:34:00.001+05:30

Sometimes I need what only you can provide: Your absence.

Discounting the fact that it is a sarcastic comment, which automatically grants it dark humor, absence, be it physical or mental, is an essential ingredient for strengthening relationships. You discover the value of these complex ribbons connecting together people, which is more often than not, priceless.

In moments of introspection, I find that there are some people, whom I value more due to their absence from my life for prolonged periods. It is just that a phone call, or a visit means all that much more, and somehow becomes unforgettable without failure. I spend some of the most memorable moments with such people.

It isn't only about meeting them, but it is also about remembering, reminiscing the wonderful time I had with them later on... something, which keeps me happy for a long time in general.

If only, someone knew how much a moment spent with him/her can mean to me, even though I am sitting just a few miles away...

The Moment

2008-03-14T17:27:00.003+05:30

"The hardest moment in life is not when you lose something and tears come out of your eyes...
It is when you know you are losing something and you are forced to smile."

I relate to this, for reasons that are incomprehensible, for reasons that are inexplicable.

I wish...

2008-03-12T23:03:00.001+05:30

I wish...
Someone would read, when I speak,
Someone would listen, when I write.

It isn't that I am making a mistake while writing - the lines are deliberate.

A Paper

2008-03-08T23:57:00.002+05:30

A piece of paper,

Blank as ever,

Without a single crease,

Or a quiver.

May be crumpled up,

And thrown into a bin,

May be folded,

And turned into a swan.

The paper denotes life,

The contrast is evident.

In the two situations,

the starkness is vehement.

Fold with care,

And let the magic unfold.

Life is what you make of it,

Make it beautiful, let it hold.

The Clandestine Writings

2008-03-08T18:39:00.000+05:30

"I write, as if there is no end,
An end, there never can be.
I started at a transitional time,
A time, when I wasn't me."

If anyone knew how much I have written, on a topic that is still beyond me, I have no idea how they will react. It is worth, simply adding it all together to form a book, in which everything is connected so logically, and embedded with reality, that it might just be understandable. Last time I checked, it was more than a hundred and fifty pages of writings, with more than 50 thousand words, excluding the stuff that I have put down over here or in any other blog, magazine or even a piece of paper that you may know about.

In them... I capture my happiness, my achievements, and my thankfulness. They are home to the most memorable memoirs, and also to the most cherished ones. The best poem I have ever written resides in them, the most touching story belongs to them.

The reason I keep them safe, is that they are mostly in the form of a talk, maybe with myself, which makes them personal. Each word present in those writings is heavy with emotion and possesses a meaning that I tend to discover with subsequent readings. The writings are a repository for the sadness I pour out, consoling myself for mistakes, for blunders I have made. Nobody can really understand how sorry I am... and can be.

Each word, is a burden I willingly accept.

Maybe some day, it will be all in the past, where it won't concern me anymore... but for now, I continue my journey in solitude. I write... my own silence.

P.S. I can't write "more"... I may break if I do...

The Replay Vision

2008-03-01T20:30:00.001+05:30

In a misty morning, as the haze was withering away to the penetrating rays of the sun, he was walking on a stony path towards nowhere. Gazing blankly at the pebbles as he walked, he was immersed in the peculiarity of their individual shapes, while at the same time he was intrigued by their collective similarity. He picked up a pebble.

“Nice”, he smirked at his own observations that amounted to absolutely nothing. He threw away the pebble into the river, and watched the waves created, that spread all around. Some things were just a waste of time... he was wasting time freely.

He stood there silently... disappointed with the world that knew nothing about him, that could never know anything at all. Tears manifested themselves as anger. He had no room for emotional blasphemy. He kicked a pebble so hard that he hurt his foot. But the rock also went flying towards someone else, who bore the brunt of its impact.

He rushed to the peculiarly dressed stranger, limping a bit, but still running.

“I am fine, boy! Let go!” exclaimed the stranger. He was old, but had a youthful aura surrounding him. His dressing sense seemed, with all due respect, atrocious.

The boy was careful not to blurt this fact out. He had gotten into trouble way too many times for speaking his mind. He slowly helped the stranger up to his feet, turning a blind eye to the constant protests to let go, and sat down with him on a knee-high stone wall.

“You’re stubborn”, the stranger said calmly.

“Of course not! I was just helping you out!” said the boy, his anger reaching the normal levels.

“Ah! Young blood. Did you even listen that I didn’t want the help?” the stranger said, holding an odd smile on his face.

“And by that, you judge that I am stubborn?”

“No, not really... that was simply my wisdom talking. But do take notice of how you connected by yourself this incident to the statement that you’re stubborn. Deep down, you know that you are, eh? “

The boy was seething with anger... this was simply ridiculous. The stranger was talking in contorted ways, and he had neither the time, nor the patience to listen. He stood up.

“Your name’s Asambhav, right?” asked the stranger.

“How the hell did you know my name?” asked Asambhav, anger turning to complete astonishment. He sat down as fast as he got up.

“I sense these things” the stranger replied, and then displayed, what was unmistakeably a chuckle.

Looking at the disbelief of Asambhav, the stranger put a hand up to his shoulder, and patted it. He continued,

“I was watching you... you observe a lot, a little too much for my comfort, actually. But your vision is narrow.”

Asambhav was simply confused. He had no idea how the stranger knew his name, nor did he have a hint of understanding as to how the stranger knew about what he was thinking.

“ I was just seeing pebbles...”

“Exactly” said the stranger, cutting him off. “Your vision is narrow.”

“Come on, give me a break...”

“Have you ever even got a break? Besides, if you have got one, have you ever taken it? NO... for it’s not in your nature, you know.” The stranger spoke with an authority that worried Asambhav, and so he decided to stay mum. There was a deafening silence.

“Did you ever take a second glance at the observations you made?” asked the stranger. It seemed as the first genuine question he intended to ask.

Asambhav stayed silent, but he knew he had given away the answer without speaking a word. The stranger was smiling...

“ Let’s rewind, shall we?” said the stranger, and enacted it using his hands...

Before he knew it, Asambhav witnessed his life rewinding. Those few minutes were playing in reverse, and suddenly, the stranger disappeared. He was standing a few feet away from a boy, watching the boy with astonishment. He was that boy. Surely it was a dream. The boy wasn’t paying any attention to him, almost as if he couldn’t see him.

Asambhav sat down, his knees were dwindling. His gaze was fixed on the boy. The boy was looking at the world full of souls, where each was so similar, yet so very different. Each had been carved out as an individual by the life that was flowing besides them, and each was a product of circumstances. He saw the boy picking out a soul, and granting it a life once again.

There were waves of excitement that greeted the new entrant, and the happiness was propagated throughout. But clearly, the boy had seen nothing. He was engrossed in himself, and how the world was cruel to him. Asambhav realized in an instant how stubborn he was. The boy was refusing to see the world that lay before him.

He saw the boy kick a soul, and immediately felt a searing pain inside himself. As inexplicable as it was, he glanced at that soul that went flying to the other end of the path. Conspicuous by his absence, was the stranger on whom it had actually landed. The boy was nowhere to be seen. Asambhav got up, and walked to the other end of the path. He saw that soul was lying in front of another soul that was shining brightly. That soul had a surreal feel to it, and seemed simply divine. Suddenly, it vanished. And then it struck him.

He picked up the soul that the boy had kicked. It was his soul, the boy’s soul. He watched with eyes that were full of tears, and filled with gratitude for all that had happened to him in a matter of minutes. With all his might, he threw his soul, the pebble, back into the river of life.

Some Nothings

2008-02-22T19:46:00.002+05:30

Can you describe the feeling that emanates when we find something in nothing?

Explanations

2007-11-22T20:28:00.002+05:30

"Every beginning has an end. And when it does end, it leaves behind a legacy."

The story is simple, but hidden away,
In a few pages guarded closely.
The after-effects are here to stay,
This blog is a reflection, of reality.

It all began, when it all supposedly ended,
There were other vistas to explore.
The genesis was true to intentions,
But this truth doesnt hold, anymore.

The intended divergence from ubiquitiousness,
Slowly converged back to the sublime.
The independence I had sought to establish,
Withered away with passage of time.

Three words, never spoken before,
Made my struggle so very amicable.
It is no wonder I state them here,
In all detail I found, "Life is Beautiful."

With new understanding, new belief
I continue my journey with subtle flair,
I discover myself day after day,
In a thread that was never really there.

I write with belief, a belief in time,
It feels like I engrave in stone.
I live life afresh, afresh with thine,
It feels like I never am alone.

Wonderfully Lucky

2007-11-22T20:22:00.001+05:30

Not getting what you want can turn out to be a wonderful stroke of luck.

Love...

2007-11-18T22:35:00.001+05:30

The evanescent scent of the will to cope.
The enduring warmth in continuous shiver.
The ephemeral breeze of uncompromising hope.
The eternal sunshine on a lifeless flower.

Those Eyes...

2007-11-12T21:33:00.001+05:30

Those eyes... they were beautiful.
As deep as the oceans, as dreamy as the skies.
As innocent as the pebbles, as playful as the rivers.
I just looked... they were beautiful.

After a while... I grew used to them.
They gave a casual glance occasionally.
And I glanced back, ever so normally.
Just that... I had grown used to them.

One day, eventually... I saw what they had seen.
It was a different world, a bliss unmistakeably.
A mesmerizing reality that felt like heaven.
I saw them... and I finally saw what they had seen.

Those eyes... they were beautiful.
As deep as thoughts, as dreamy as dreams.
As innocent as emotions, as playful as happiness.
I just looked... they were beautiful.

Drops of Heaven

2007-11-04T21:47:00.002+05:30

It was a cool afternoon. The wind seemed to be in a breezy mood, encouraging the flora to explore new frontiers. It seemed polite enough to accept a refusal. The sky was radiant in all its glory, giving an impression that it was the work of a master. There seemed to be contentment in abundance.

I smiled, just out of sheer thought. How wonderful it all seemed, all was so perfect. I tried to combine every tiny detail, so that it would come out as a single entity, but it was all so transient that it transformed into emptiness at the critical juncture of the process. I was left alone in my effort to retain… the more I focused, the more I lost.

Then reality came, and the blur blurred into sharpness. I lay alone, imprisoned in my windowless chamber. I was in tears, tears which were reminiscent of the dream I had just had. They were tears that reminded me of the beauty of life that existed outside. Tears, that held hope for a happy future. Tears, that were like drops of heaven.

A Surreal Experience

2007-10-26T19:16:00.002+05:30

There was a silence, that wasn’t silence at all. And there were echoes, of echoes themselves. In the dome lay a harmony hitherto not witnessed. There lay a freedom, which seemed ironic within the closed doors. There lay elation, which was pure. It was for everyone to witness, but few did.

A prayer filled the vast emptiness, with an effervescent tranquility. It was as if there lay a crystal clear pond in which you could immerse yourself, and cleanse all ills. Above us stood a cryptic symbol, gleaming as majestically as gold. Its radiance made us forget ourselves for a while. We took a seat each, in silence, immersed in entirety. And then, the prayer stopped.

We sat, lost in ourselves, understanding for maybe the first time, what it is to be in peace and quiet.

I knew why I wanted to be there. But when I was there, I knew I didn’t want to be there for the reason that had got me there. I wish I had no reason at all.

It happens occasionally that tears and smiles both overload me simultaneously. I stayed there, engaged in myself, as I have never. I discovered my faith over there, and I am glad that I did. I sat quietly, in a flashback, looking back at everything that had happened. Repentance came naturally, and I prayed for forgiveness. I prayed, not to God…

We stood in the Lotus Temple. And we left, with words that would never do justice to what we had experienced.

In a Few Lines...

2007-10-25T00:11:00.001+05:30

Together,
We walked happily to lively times.
Alone,
I gazed blankly into the starry skies.
Your Smile,
Weakened my knees as it reinforced my poise.
My Tears,
Drenched my feet as they parched my eyes.

Quietness

2007-10-17T00:20:00.002+05:30

The beginning of a transition from chaos to tranquility?
The end of implicit understanding of each eventuality?
A steady state, which owes itself to apparent stillness?
A passing phase, which will eventually result in vociferousness?

I’ll Give Them All Away...

2007-10-12T19:59:00.001+05:30

Those moments that were never there,
Those times that never came.
Those dreams that were imaginary,
Those memoirs that were never written.

They belong somewhere, but not with me,
It was meant to be this way...
They belong somewhere, but not with me,
I'll give them all away...

A Moment of Silence

2007-10-08T23:26:00.001+05:30

A moment of silence may leave nothing unsaid.

Truthful Lies

2007-10-01T22:22:00.001+05:30

Truth never tells lies, but lies somehow manage to tell the truth.

A New Leaf

2007-09-01T14:21:00.002+05:30

यादें यह गुमसुम, कभी ना भाएँ,
सच को ना भुला पाना आख़िर सच्चाई है।
दुःख के आंगन मे खेलते हुए जाना,
ज़िंदगी को अर्पण कर देने में नई ज़िंदगी है।

Questions in Answers

2007-08-31T07:22:00.002+05:30

The journey of finding answers is nothing but another way of discovering new questions, for which again you need to find answers.

A Simple Deed

2007-08-29T09:54:00.003+05:30

The simplest of deeds can make the biggest of differences.

If Ever...

2007-08-26T12:33:00.001+05:30

If ever, there is light
I would remember,
there was darkness before.

If ever, there is happiness
I would remember,
there was sorrow before.

If ever, there is elation
I would remember,
there was depression before.

If ever, there is life
I would remember,
there was death before.

If ever, there is an after
I would forget,
there was a before.

Irony

2007-08-19T13:09:00.001+05:30

In company, I find solitude.
In solitude, lies my company.
In distinctive tones of loneliness
I find a queer serenity.

In ambiguity, I find clarity.
In clarity lies all ambiguity.
In an enduring quest to seek the truth
I define a new falsity.

In a prologue, I find an epilogue.
In each epilogue, lies a prologue to see .
In the divergent stories that always concur
I stumble on the same identity.

In reality, I find imagination
In imagination, lies the reality.
In the imagined real and really imagined
I find an inherent irony.

Invisible Message

2007-08-09T22:18:00.002+05:30

On a blank parchment lies concealed,
A writing not meant to be revealed .

The emptiness it saturates, leaves behind,
A mark not visible to the naked eye.

Even if the revelation does occur,
There exists a crypt to stall forever.

If the crypt breaks, the story unfolds,
A situation that I hope, never evolves.

And forgive me for I evoke, such an enigma,
For I am bound by my promise, my own dogma.

--
- - -- -------
89566 6794 6544

I Looked On...

2007-08-04T20:18:00.002+05:30

In the sprawling fields, spanning till the horizon, lived a thousand reflections of golden brown crops. They shined in symphony with the warming sun. There was a tortuous road which carved through them, as a river flows through the gorges, rushing on. A breezy wind gushed through, and spread out into the open skies. With all the hustle, there still was a relaxing tranquility to this sight.

And then I closed my eyes.

They were still there. The image had persisted, and was enhanced by imaginary music. There was a rhythmic movement across the fields as the winds progressed. It was too surreal to be real. Slowly, emotions crept in, bestowing an additional burst of liveliness to the surreality. The sight was more beautiful than the one that I saw with my eyes, that I heard with my ears, that I sensed with my skin. Maybe it was because it was something which I could consider my own creation.

A Bottomless Pit

2007-08-04T20:12:00.002+05:30

Every day, we seem to have more to do, and less time to do it. More knowledge to gain, more promises to keep, more values to uphold, more responsibilities to fulfill… this list itself keeps growing as we move along each day in this life we have. A day after the other passes, and we rue about the events we missed out on, the moments that went unnoticed, the tasks that were left unaccomplished… there is no surprise that this list also keeps growing.

We slog on, each day of our life, hoping that we can clear up this backlog. In the process, however, we end up creating a new set of backlogs, built up due to the negligence of the present. This happens in the effort of erasing the past’s to-do list. It is no wonder that people are somewhat dissatisfied with themselves for not having accomplished something meaningful in as tender an age as say, 15 or even 20 for that matter. Each is stuck in the rat race, in one way or the other, knowingly or unknowingly.

The race is reaching epic proportions with the competition now converging into a singular global event. It seems highly likely that there would be no option but to compete. And people will compete, because the desire to win is ever so great.

However, just stop for a while, and notice. It wasn’t meant to be a race in the first place. It was meant to be an experience, meant to be experienced and enjoyed until contentment, and then it was time to move on. But people don’t. They’re stuck in a bottomless pit, sinking to new lows in trying to achieve an elusive high.

Relationships

2007-07-10T11:40:00.002+05:30

Never joke about relationships; someday, they might make a joke of you.

Forever

2007-07-09T20:16:00.001+05:30

Drops of rain,
Cling onto leaves.
But they often slide down,
To the parched ground that awaits them.

Imbibed in grain,
they bide their time.
But they swiftly vaporize,
To the ascending sweltering sun's dictum.

They do love,
The freedom they have.
And they surely harbor belief,
That their cherished liberty is essential.

They do not endear,
fearing loss of freedom.
But they don't understand,
That their eternal bond is but, ephemeral.

At the horizon,
Lie the sky and earth.
But they are wiser indeed,
Their stay together, proves this fundamental.

Through thick and thin,
They've weathered all storms.
United,they possess a harmony,
That stands beautiful, since time immemorial.

Wait

2007-07-09T16:55:00.001+05:30

There is a wait. A wait that seems to put the term "eternity", to shame. Time stands still, waiting for a time to elapse before progressing further. Desperation creeps in, and it refuses to depart. A hope kindles...

And the hope nearly always leads to expectations. Expectations of arrival, sooner or later. Somehow, it is worth it, for the expectations are not baseless. They have arisen with time, a time that now plays games. And as dreams, they come alive nearly everyday. As they do, time breaks into a run, and it seems to do so at an alarming pace. It is not worth analyzing time - it has a story of its own - but the expectations cause concern. When they don't come alive, they disappoint. The mist encompassing reason refuses to lift, as to why they disappoint - it was never like this before. Something changed. Actually... everything did.

But it isn't what it seems to be. No it isn't. However, whatever it is, is certainly something wrong. Prudence didn't play a role, as it should have. But now it does. It wont be long before time speaks monotonically again. The wait will suffer a silent death.

Dreamweaver

2007-07-05T22:12:00.001+05:30

I sat by, with the wind howling into my deaf ears. All there was, was a tune, a tune entangled with a memory, a memory not exactly depictive. It all resembled a hollow sketch of an event, happened, and yet, still to happen. A dream, which exerted a force, that forced me to dream on.

With the silent melancholy imbibed in the tune, it was hard to understand the nature of it's origin. It was, without doubt, a distant echo. But somehow, I felt it resound within. There was more to it, than what I could possibly imagine. There was something inexplicable in the notes, and in the aura of that one tune, that I listened to. It had immense soporific power, and I had no hope of waking up while it played.

While I slept on, the sketch grew clearer, but the hollowness remained. The melancholy fused in to produce an epic remembrance. The protagonist was one, and only one. It played hide and seek while my inquisition tried to explore it's nature. As I gazed on, suddenly, it vanished, without a trace. It was a mere illusion, designed to facilitate my entry into a chamber of thought. And then, the chamber gave way... I was left standing in a field, opposite the setting sun. The light blazed through, and I stood, with my naked eyes covered. I was waiting, but it never happened. The sun didn't go down. The silent melancholy no longer persisted, and gave way to an overwhelming silence.

I finally opened my eyes, and I was standing alone, besides thousands of beautiful flowers. I was there for a purpose, and the silence allowed me to listen to it. I stood shivering... in what was whispered to me.

Sanctum Sanctorum

2007-05-31T23:52:00.001+05:30

Engrossed in a constant tug-of-war,
Expatiated by difference, rather than combine.
A reconciliation is all we ask for,
A symbiosis divine, of the heart and the mind.

Me & I

2006-12-05T22:27:00.006+05:30

For the first time, I have moved out of the familiar, into unknown territory. This poem explores extremely abstract concepts, which I have tried to illustrate, realizing in the process, my inherent limits. It shows that the clarity is missing.

I am me, and I am still not me,

I am, what I have been made out to be.

I, my identity, has been stolen by society,

Molded and transformed to conform to the hierarchy.

What I wish is no longer my wish,

a dream is no longer my bastion,

It develops from the I in me.

I am me, and I am still not me.

I, an ego, has been drilled into me

A creative satisfaction of the community

I boast about me to the world

I croon along to one and all

I make me seem an inanity.

I am me, and I am still not me.

I, a keeper, has come to be

to disguise myself, and jail me

I wonder where I have let myself wander,

Little do I know about this blunder,

I have lost myself to thee.

I am me, and I am still not me.

I am me, and I am still not me,

I am, what I have been made out to be.

Let me be recovered from the wandering, cursed,

I need to be made to discover the fault, disbursed,

Let the I be the I in me,

Please let me free.....I beg to be.

Enlightenment

2006-12-04T14:05:00.001+05:30

Prologue: Night and Day are two very abstract concepts here which bring out the contrast they possess with respect to each other. Even though Night has been taken to be Negative, the theme of the poem is to denote the positivity in the negativity and vice versa.
Hope this helps make some sense...

A day beckons, to the encompassing night

to entwine it's darkness with impending light

But the night never agrees

It just stays and decrees

There will be no rays so bright.

But the sun never ceases to rise

It entangles and destroys the cries

of the night getting swallowed

till the time its narrowed

to misery after the day's uprise.

Day never gives night a choice

and night doesnt beg, or borrow

But the night never loses,

It still murks in darkness,

and masks itself as a shadow .

The Salty Sea

2006-12-04T13:53:00.001+05:30

Away I float... in the salty sea...
Wondering what life would bring on me...
The shackles of support, that I take for granted,
May one day succumb, and leave me free...

For that day, I wait...
It's the day I dread...
For the salt of the sea, may one day vanish,
And the sea will drown me, in it's entirety...

A Day Of History

2006-11-01T21:35:00.005+05:30

Awoken, I scrambled, in my exhilarating disillusion
From the slumber imposed on me, by a quavering dedication.
I shivered, I screamed, with a gory disdain
With the warmth of light, feeling like a shooting pain.

I gathered myself, from my own ashes
Rising as a phoenix, to the beckoning clashes.
However I sensed, a sense of Deja Vu to the fore
As I had a feeling of being there before.

In a forest full of life, brimming with light
In a world so serene, with a delicate green sight
Wildly natural, and yet civilized in conjunction
Perfect in entirety , and entirely in perfection.

It is here, I wish, all would have awoken
Forgive me for I, have still not spoken
Of how the day will come, I cant assert truly
I still reckon it will be, A Day of History.

The World of Her Eyes

2006-11-01T21:32:00.002+05:30

When I glanced into those eyes, breathless

I saw the glint of a tear, flowing down.

I sought with my eyes, senseless

The feelings she enclosed within.

How I wish, I could see them
Rather than stare at the world’s inanity.
It leads me to a realization
Of how ironic, life can be.

Apropos

2006-09-14T15:05:00.001+05:30

To make, to break
To love, to hate

Apropos...In one's own way

In the circumstances, the situtation
Lies in ones own hands, the power
To give, to take
To seek, to lose
The gift of...
Destiny.

Apropos...
In ones own way.
Apropos...
In the world of today.
Apropos...
If you hear your say.
Apropos...
Forever it may.

The fusions, the diversions
of the thoughts in the mind
and the indecisions
To leave ,to wait
To live, to die
For the perfect...
Day.

Apropos...
In ones own way.
Apropos...
In the world of today.
Apropos...
If you hear your say.
Apropos...
Forever it may.

These are lyrics, which never got converted to a song.