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 

......NexT

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

redEmPtiOn

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 

SigNs

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 -
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=133988293320830&oid=128967727138780&comments

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

Feeling blessed
Sakshi

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. 

~Rumi

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 .

StReeTS........

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 

ThE FaLL ..

Falls the summer , into the winters arms

Carefully ceases its warmth and sunshine

To summon the next season

Yields it's magic into the winters charm

The fall of the sun as its sunshine

Of the ice as its , cold water

Of the dew , as the awaited drop

Of the leaves , as if made for the ground

The fall of people , in truth

The fall in faith , in the vicious lie

The fall of the night after dawn

The fall of human, after its mortal life

Bends every leaf , to kiss the ground

When the autumn falls , are by your side

Dresses the earth in all the hues I know

Falls the spring, leaving the grey's behind

Falls the white , and disappears to black

Falls my eyelids , upon a shy smile

Falls above the God , the earthy reasons sometimes

Falls His take as a fact  , He's taken a myth at times

Falls every rise , to rise again and fall 

Falls every notion , to morph according to the changing time

StiLL in fiRe ...

As the night surrounded 

I rapidly lit up your face

Like sunlight dresses the earth

And spread the warmth around

In this cold , breezy night

It was dark , the fire was apt

Peeking through the dark 

And making some parts of the picture yellow

The campfire burnt like my desires

bold red at times, at times pale in pleasure

I saw your smile pulsating the fire

I don't know where what melted

The time was still lit up

So was your face

So was the fire

I felt still in fire

Inside and outside 

All around

Such , dear , happens when you're around !

PeOplE

Across his earlobes I could see
People and places , moulds and traces

carefully sketched their intricacies
They rejoiced in meanings , worldly it seemed

I caught a man lying on phone
Infidelity rubbed his dim face

And saw a woman vying for peace
trying so hard to wait in this chase

Life was hard on the one at the bench
A tear dropped trickled on his knee

And a baby endlessly cried
His grown up representation smiling at me

And a humble rockstar observing
His guitar , its strings, strumming endlessly

The chin down on right
released some smoke

And she took the footpath
the road wasn't free

The road wasn't like perhaps
what these people wanted

so they were enjoying being human
enjoying the unlucky journey

Some people , beautiful in imperfection .

ThaT tHinG aBouT WrIterS

And I was asked to interview him. How as a child I always wanted to have a glimpse of his demeanor . He was and still is my favourite writer. The connection isn't esoteric , unlike the other things in life. I like his words , and the way he veils some , and says a lot, more than one can decipher. He forages the readers mind and hits exactly on the subject that would excite them. And in my case, I'm simply dumbstruck by his language!

He had a subtle hint of youth on his face, making him more attractive than those of his age. Attraction has different weird laws, those which are culpable to ruin hearts and brain , mine was just normal, I'm usually not used to being attached.

Nevertheless that was not the topic of concern. I had to focus on this interview . Its the only thing that pays .

And he lit up his cigar carefully, and with dreamy eyes overlooked my presence, while I watched him like a puppy wailing for attention. And after , I suppose, pondering upon each and every thing in our vicinity , he noticed I was there to interview him. Felt like euphoria (sorry for exaggerating). 

My heart doubled the beat , while he smiled, and said " Yeah . Lets start "

I wondered is the thing I'll next do as exotic as his gesture, but never mind, I'll begin, the time of my life .

" Sir , How did you decide to enter this field ?  I mean writing was a scarcely populated profession in India while you must have decided to take it up. Din't the other professions lure you ? "

He passed me a humble glimpse, and said " Never . I'm not lured by things tangible by instinct . I always believed there's a power in some selective people of this world , by which they rule minds of the rest of the people. I wanted   such clout . And so here I am. I love Bryan Adams by the way . Do you ? "

What was that !!

" ofcourse I do sir. He's epic ! "

He passed a smile again. This time, an unadjustable one.

Ohkay .. So I'll move to my next question .

" Sir do you believe in legends ? "

He dreamily looked away from me, as if I drifted him into some other world, and with a meaningful smile , spoke

" If only men were immortal , I would have believed in legends. They die along with the people who took them as legends. There's nothing like legends "

Deep thought. Burp !

" Sir are you a liar or you stick to the veracity of words "

He : " I'm human. Thats all I've known till now. And you my girl, must change this categorical chase. What fits in , is always out of this world ;) "

I like the my girl and the bonus wink . And it all made me profusely blush!

" Sir ... "

" Call me Riyaan "

:D

I think he'll add me on Facebook now !!

" Sure Riyaan. what according to you is growing old ? "

" Just like old times and memories, age also learns to wither . For good or for bad, I certainly want to witness an age of obvious oblivion. No one would then at least blame me for the things I forget. I can be choosy in remembering  with wish and will "

I looked at my diary on which I was writing his answers . I wanted to know which one of them will count as answers anyway . 

I resumed .

" Riyaan , Whats Love ? "

Riyaan submerged his eyelids into each other. His face looked beautiful as if carved after taking time, carved after giving love.

And then he took a long breath and said.

" someone will adore the air I breathe , and understand my silent arcs and my consequent lust . Love will be unsaid, just in her eyes and floating freely in my heart "

I took time to understand his words . They were indeed lovely .

" So you believe in silent love ? "

" Yes. Whats spoken is for mere pleasure . I just failed to define it. How can someone love and define too ? "

I was in awe of his words. How can some things, as mere as words, make you feel brimmed with things beyond your understanding ? 

I asked again , this time, out of curiosity , " So you are in love ? "

Though I would feel a pang of jealousy if he says yes , but my boss might get happy if I get a straight answer to this one .

He smiled. Me too . And said , " Till I'm not done with the definition of love , I can't get close to it. I guess I'll take my own time figuring things out. "

And I took it to be a no. 

" ok Riyaan. Thank you for all this time. I am enlightened by your presence. Hope your next book comes out soon. We're desperately waiting !! " and wondered if I'm sounding fake after my last line.

And he , just smiled, and said " Thank you "

While on my way back I wondered what pleasure it gives people like Riyaan to play with words. Its not like playing with someones mind . But more like playing with your own mind and soul, everytime looking for what you would want , what you have always wanted. And airing them in a way , that your words, no matter how crisp , rude or vulgar , will be adored.

Power will stay in their hands. I feel like the pawn . 

And he did add me on facebook !

:D

P.S - This was pure fiction ! :)