Tuesday, November 30, 2010

clUttEreD ...

Loving red
Loosing my purple
It doesn't enchant me anymore
It doesn't dress my eyes perfectly

I'm riding a tale
Yes , ironical
And finding my words in some other poems
By some anonymous authors

I'm short of worthy words
I'm short of my space 
And my lovely time
Short of everything that brimmed contentment

I breathe  in an unusual chaos
Comes a time , things are inevitable
I need to loose some ends
To find a rotten side of me
One that can mould and survive through 
This rotten time

Closing my eyes wont help much
There is vision urging to get completed
There are dreams to get real
Vivid and weird , personally cared and cured

As I watch people come back
And few go out of sight
I sit , words are cluttered
Awaiting to align themselves, late, this December 

Tuesday, November 23, 2010


Lets cut the thorns
I'm bleeding profusely 
Clear this air
Its choking to death
Let this turmoil settle
The sea needs a calm sleep
I can have a blissful day
Always a riot is not necessary
Lets remove this air of memories old
Discard them , for they return to do no good
Lets have useless day beneath the sun 
Sometime , Its all you need to get back

When things are growing blinding dark  
I can't even trust my shadow to follow 
leave alone sunshine and God
leave alone their omnipresent power


Relieve me from this evil
Of circling in the circles of life
Of the credence in words that aren't true
This intention behind fake eyes

Free me of this duty
Of foraging for right or wrong
I'm living in depths of a morass
I know this trick , and this maze entirely

Suffice me with a lie
If you cannot pour out the truth
Its anyways my journey
And I know you can do nothing , but mislead

When I see you near me 
 I just wish I find redemption 
from your ubiquitous evil side 

Thursday, November 18, 2010


I don't actually believe in posting narratives, but sometimes you feel such things that you want people to know. My last post Fallen Gods was pure fiction. Very contrary to its title, I am a God fearing person and though not so religious, but still full of invisible faith. At times I grow partial in my worship, at times worship ,just by the name God. Also I do believe that he gives you signs of paths, the ones you need to choose , when you are sad . I am usually a very happy person, adamant in my choices and hence happy in my ways. But there have been somethings lately that I too felt distressed about, some regrets on whatever happened. Just when I returned to my hostel this evening carrying a bad news, and nothing positive besides me(something that rarely happens ) , I was blown away by the number of signs He was giving to me. Happiness comes in messages , in myriad ways , saying I need to realize all thats prior. I think work or studies and everything else that you do , becomes of very little importance when you do not feel like yourself. It's worse than a stranger husband, worse than a hostile pet and worse than your mirror wiping your trace . But then you should count on the signs that come to you sooner or later. When you feel disheartened , think nothing. Its better to stay like a blank paper. That accepts writing only in genuine ink. The ink will show you the things meant to be concerned for. If the cause of your worry does not lie into this list, then leave it completely . He has some other plan. I'm not trying to lecture , but certainly trying to make you believe, that when you're not happy, God gives you reasons to choose a path for yourself, which is the best possible solution . But you cannot see these signs when you are tensed. That is why, grow blank. The ink will surely write a success story. And make both ink and the paper, entwined in belief . I know its very difficult to be calm, but whats wrong in staying calm , if you'll get to find a solution ,and that too guided by Him.
The day when you'll feel connected, you'll realize , how futile are your worries and how blessed are you to be having more than you want.
This video is one of the signs he gave me -

pocket full of sunshine
might loose its rays
there are dark clouds haunting you
But He always promises a way

Feeling blessed

Thursday, November 11, 2010

QuOted ..

Soul receives from soul that knowledge, 
therefore not by book nor from tongue.

If knowledge of mysteries come after emptiness of mind, 
that is illumination of heart. 

I spent a long time understanding what he was trying to say through these lines. Perhaps , the sole reason why people connect for long , be friends  and  narrate their thoughts , casting people into their world  and rating them into categories of close , closer and closest . Or this could be the reason you found me , existing , struggling , communicating , my thought about this quote, to you , whom I found likewise the same way .

Yes knowledge of mysteries comes form emptiness of mind , when its relaxed and assuming tranquility of its own kind and will pour out its own way , via heart , through worthy words .

People get from people , desire , love , peace , company , hatred , nostalgia and everything that keeps them busy for sometime . Till they fall back to silence to realize , who has been there and should be there . And prepare a list of people wanted and unwanted , and again repeat the process above .

only if your heart has been illuminated , you can realize what light is to this journey of life .

Monday, November 8, 2010


Before I breathe
I would like you to know
I am living in the reflections 
The memory 
in its entirety 
is yet to be lived again 

I will cross your street again 
to see you a little older 
a little lost and careful 
to see how you have been 
from where I left 
till where I caught 

The negatives of pictures
Still smell strong
Of something that remains
I will come again
To see you across the lamp-post
Are they correct
Or they are , just stale negatives

I will collect some flowers
I know you would love them
From a street ,As you always like
To bring the same smile
Back on your serene face

What I lost in these streets 
Was a friend I loved the most
And I'm happy around the corner
I saw a lady cleaning the streets
And it reminded me
Of the dirt I still hold 

Was just living reflections
When I thought to live a memory again