Saturday, 29 December 2012

After All.

After everything, I don't want to change anything around me. Acceptance is the new deal.
I want me to be pious in the deeds. I want to appreciate every piece of world the way it comes to me. After criticizing, being let down, letting down, falling down, scratching the wounds, it's time for healing.
The healing is drawing peace. Peace not within the outside, but with self in realization.
I've realized that the only way I am gonna get through time is by drawing peace with that thing.

With Dad. 19 years of knowing him meant a lot of questioning, a lot of times not trying to understand what he meant, the reasons he meant those things. Every time, I was wrong. Every time, I failed to understand his intentions. Now, I think before I act rude. There sure were problems, but those problems were majorly because of me. Because I never valued what I had. He never acted like I couldn't be forgiven, when if I would have been in his position, it would've been pretty hard for me to let go of those things. I love him. And, I took 19 years to realize that I didn't need a reason for that. I can't 'not' love him 'cause he couldn't afford the better car, or for he couldn't let me go abroad for that stupid internship. I love him and I can't put a  cause to it. There's nothing that I can do that can ever suffice what he has been to me. A better father than anyone can ever think of. He loved me even when I behaved like I hated him. It's hard to forgive myself for who I was at a point of time.

With Muma, I couldn't ever convey what I really meant. She has been the best for me, I was rude and bad at a point of time, often I still am, but I never meant anything for wrong. I always wanted to protect her, to expand the horizon of how she looked at things. I wanted the negative perception to be turned to the one that was appreciative, the lesser doubtful, happy person. But, I feel I fail at it. 'cause none of the things really affect her. Nothing. Like I make no sense to her.
I might not be a good person, but for her I never ever meant anything wrong. I loved her more than I ever loved anyone, yet I failed with everything in her case. I can't stop trying. But, things won't stop falling apart.

They say, never choose someone who has to think twice about choosing you. For a lot of my other confused relations, that answers pretty much everything.

Tuesday, 25 December 2012

Dreaming within the Reality.

Morning blues. That's how every winter day begins for me. This winter, while I woke up to a newer destination, I was too lazy to plan for the day. All that I did was grabbed coffee and ran within day dreaming.
I believe in angels. in God sending messages via messengers who bring about with themselves, Happiness.
I had no idea that this last day at internship was going to change my entire life.
While I was about to leave the office, the newly made friends (the associates at the firm) gifted a farewell gift to me.
Amongst three other things, was a book, the one I had been looking for probably longer than for decades. The one that was to answer every dilemma. Many Lives, Many Masters by Dr. Brian Weiss was more than just a book for me.
Death was one of the most disrupted concepts in my head, it told me, that Death wasn't the end. While I still blamed myself for what happened to my granpa, and S, it told me, that more than anything, it was what they had chosen for themselves. The way they wanted things to be.
It told me, that happiness was reasonless, and everytime I appended a reason to it, I lessened down its value. 'cause while the reason would eventually die out, so would the happiness.
It told me, that there are three basic attributes to life, hope, faith, and happiness tied with the strings of love.
This is lesser than an excerpt to convey what is compassed within that story.

Friday, 23 November 2012

The Mansion.

There it stood, within it's wilderness, in the season of winter, draping and losing it's sheath. The red mansion was pretty, had it's own aura. The large glass doors and windows added to the charm. The front porch had a palm tree which added to it's glory.
'Is this our new house Mommy?' asked Amanda with a smile of amazement. With magnified eyes and a little nod, Zora passed away a smile. Happiness flew from within itself on the thought of having to stay in a mansion as pretty and huge as this.

'Won't Daddy come along?' was Amanda's next curious question. Since the divorce, this was Zora's first venture away from Zyed's home. She thought for a moment, they were practically in the same city. But Amanda's custody was with Zora now. She twisted Amanda's attention away from it by showing her the inscription on the palm tree.
It read 'Aman'. They surpassed it, and started checking the ground floor. The ground floor was welcomed by an entrĂ©e, followed by the drawing and the dining interconnected. The right side had a staircase leading it to the first floor.
The first floor opened into a room with windows on three sides of the wall, it was an open spaced room with hooded ceiling. The room had a different aura about itself.
While Zora opened the windows, she was taken aback by the sound of a child crying. She went downstairs to check on Amanda. Amanda was playing in the sand by the Palm tree, she gave Zora a smile and showed her the little sand castle she was trying to make out of it.
The entire day passed by in unpacking the luggage. In the evening Amanda and Zora went for a stroll.
'Did you just move into the 21st South Avenue?' asked a lady as she noticed the new appearances.
'Indeed, aren't we right beside each other?' was Zora's nodding response, 'Oh..yes..Welcome to the South Avenue, may I know your name little darling?' Aisha extended a hand towards Amanda and held hers for a moment. Shying away and hiding behind Zora, Amanda narrated her name.
'It's pretty cold these days, the winters are chilling and the snow's about to show up in a few..'.
'Yeah, it's the time of the year when the hail storms might just occur..'
'Are you related to the Rosewoods?'.
'No..we rented it from the McGuire's, were the Rosewoods living here?'.
'The Rosewoods owned this mansion for the last twenty two years. A year ago, they left this place and  sold it. Since then, three families moved in and out.. You're the fourth ones. McGuire's stayed here for  two days after they moved in, however just like the last two, they left as well.'
'People don't like it much.. or what's the deal with this place?'
'They all say the same story..'
A sudden thunder sound meant that Zora rushed indoors to close the windows and doors. Amanda collected her toys from the backyard and helped Zora.
As Zora stepped towards the room on the first floor, she felt a drag, as if someone pulled her legs from behind towards the ground floor. The crying sound made her feel like Amanda was scared, she hushed it away, saying Wait Sweety, Mommy would be right there. She caressed the hand that held her thigh.
As she closed the outer window from the first floor, she spotted Amanda on the road dancing in the snow that had started falling, she looked back and there was no one.

Amanda..sweets..the dinner's ready..let's eat Amanda..come to Mommy.. Amanda lied sound asleep in the couch right in front of the television. All of a sudden, the sound of a crying of a baby instilled, like it came from the first floor. Zora climbed up the staircase and suddenly, the electricity went off. There were sheer silence for a moment, which was accompanied by the sound of a moving cradle with tuning toys over it. All of a sudden, it started sounding like a baby was crying. Zora was taken aback by the moment she saw two little kids standing right in front of her.
The electricity got back, and the kids were gone. Zora was taken aback by the presence, and moments later, all she felt was unhappiness which made her cry.
She felt like she could sense their presence. Like they narrated a story.
She felt like she was in the room with the kids, with other people roaming around as well.. And Mr. Rosewood was off the town, where Mrs Rosewood stayed home with the caretakers. Mrs Rosewood went out for a while, when the two servants out of vengeance against Mr Rosewood, threw the kids in the cradle from the first floor. 
Zora felt a drive to take Amanda away from this presence, and rushed outside taking Amanda in her lap never to return to this place.

P.S. The place where I live is in front of the Red Mansion. Aman died in 2010, who was a son of the Chabra's. Since they've left, any family that moved in here couldn't survive for more than 5 days. The front haunted room(as they call it) is the place where they still hear a child crying, and the inscription in the tree remains visible since they've left. The last family that lived here, told me this story, and they were threatened enough to not step in to pack their own stuff.

Saturday, 17 November 2012

Tracing the steps back.

'So you didn't clear things up with her yet?'  asked S with that little half way smile on his face, like he knew my answer.
'Nooo..' with a little happiness was my answer.
'Are you sure, we're going for this trip?', that's when it propped into my head, how many risks I was taking, all for once and once for all.
Not that I was fooling anyone, just that while interning, I would go with him for weekend breaks to Pushkar and Goa for once. 
It won't matter in the long run probably. I'll be with him, that will count. He unleashed a stroke of my hair and started tangling it around his finger while staring with a happy face.
This has been his nervous gesture. Normally, when he doesn't want things to go wrong, he would either start tapping his feet or look at me holding a stare.
I shifted from one foot to another within the confusion. For once nothing mattered, I just wanted to be in this moment. 
'Do you know, we could cancel this as well.. I mean if you don't want to take this, we can plan things later?'
Stepping a step closer to him, I said 'I'm not scared anymore.'
This was a bigger truth than my realization. Priorly with him, I was always scared of everything. Of thinking I wasn't justified in my actions. When not with him, it bothered that I was unjustified in my actions. He bent a little and caught hold of my lips via his, and it lasted longer than I had anticipated.
I realized that the thing holding onto this was selflessness. He never expected anything from me, but to love him. For him, there were no conditions. Just hopes that one day I will eventually marry him.
'How long has it been?' was his question, with that smurf smiling face.
I said '1032 days..'.

and I woke up from the dream and stared within the darkness into the reality.
It has been 1032 days since he died and it seems like I was still with him till yesterday.
Sometimes, knowing and believing are entirely different things.

Monday, 12 November 2012

And about him, no one cared.

As he crumbled down within the wrath of pain that wrangled in his body, they stood still looking keenly at him.
And when he broke down to the infallible pain, that crushed his control of hand, a part of his mouth, the walking and the posture, they still glared.
Then when he went to sleep, they cursed him for being responsible for all of it.
For being too bad a human, to suffer this. To being unjustified in his actions, towards them.
They cursed him till he cried in his sleep.
Instead of taking care, they are still pushing him lower and lower.
The wrath of time had meant that he wasn't as mentally sound as they were. He failed and coped and failed.
Till they declared him incompetant.
When he stood the odds, making choice of doing nothing, 'cause he couldn't, they blamed him for upholding insane actions.
Then, when he resisted, they took him to the doctor, who drugged him till he was drenched in this pain.
Downstairs, as I went to talk to him about the last letter he wrote to me, I was crushed while I looked at him.
Not my brother, but he has been my true brother in every aspect of time. From protecting me in kindergarten, to slapping the principal for my sake. He is more than just my brother.
The fuckin' society thinks he's a laughing stock, they can accept or reject him.
He can't keep track of me, so he writes letters. And whenever, I am home, he asks me to read them.
From petty issues of how his mother doesn't understand, (she being a divorcee, who lost her sanity in the pursuit of handling her marital relations, and gave birth to this brother of mine) and how, his nani (the grandmother) can't stop cursing him. How the two brothers often question his actions, and how he is subjected to the wrath.
The problem is, ever since my grand-father died, we live in dillusion, confusion, unhappiness. He was the reason the family had a stand. Now, we're like crumbled mash ups. Grandpa, A and I were really close. A and I literally lived a different life for years after grandpa died. We're in the same times again.
This time, the wrath is in the worst of the forms. They drugged him. I have no clue what it is. He lost the control of his body. He is crumbling. He couldn't speak, 'cause a part of his mouth was like differently stuck, his hands, both of them positioned themselves in a cornered way, and got stuck just like that, his legs..he couldn't walk, his body is in pain..entirely.
All he did was wrote me a message on the phone, that the doctor had asked the injection to be taken after 20 days, and today itself, they gave me the injection, ever since I cant do anything.
I couldn't do anything but stand struck back.
I asked him to sleep.. I cleared his bed, caressed his hair.. and apologised for having to subject him to this world.. I couldn't say how sorry I was.. I had gone to give him his diwali gift..
And I didn't do anything. I couldn't do anything.
I have never felt this powerless.
This much like a loser in every aspect.
Why can't I help it.

Sunday, 4 November 2012

Moving Away.

I don't know if this serves the purpose and suffices as a solution, but yes I'm doing everything to find my way out of the place where I am at, right now.
I have a plan of consecutive trips going on and off incessantly, so that I run out of times of confrontations with self.
I boarded off to Jodhpur in the first go, stayed there for 10 days, returned.. spent a few days at home..followed by a few days at the hostel of college.. then boarded for Pune.. stayed there for a day.. then Dharwad, Karnataka.. then back to Pune.. longer stay this time..Then home again..
And tomorrow I'm leaving for college again.
This is 'cause the end semesters begin on this 9th, as soon as they get over on the 17th, I'm planning to work on a Mumbai Moot.. till 24th.. and finally, leaving for a winter internship at Delhi on the 25th..
Fortunately this would mean no mash up with places nearby S till the 25th December.
And when I return, I'd be too awaited for family, so probably, I'd save the tears.
January itself would mean the new semester excitement followed by the Mumbai Moot Trip.. So there's no way I'm thinking about him till then.

This seems like escapism, but somehow, this is the only thing that seems to have worked well enough.
Smoking doesn't suffice as well.
Winning competition made me cry like Shit and that's when I realized, that neither winning nor losing would now make a difference.. I just need to keep moving to different places all the time.
I terribly miss him along. But, on the way those thoughts of him keep reminding me that somewhere along he's there.. and somehow or the other, he'll find a way out of it..though this sounds insane, but I can never believe that he's no more now. It just doesn't make itself believe-worthy to me.

Saturday, 27 October 2012

Along the Highway.

Tracing my steps along the highway, one thought kept perching my head throughout.
What Now.
I've never felt so untracked up as I feel now.
The sole source of my plan was him, S.
My life hovered around him in possibly every sense. No matter how sound I sound, my plan-less-ness makes me scared to death.
The reason is because he was the reason for everything. I had planned down my entire life to be spent with him, doing this Now that he's no more, I'm more than just Direction-less.
There seems an illusion in my head as to what next.
I was someone who planned everything beforehand alongside him.
The worst was, I had never driven on the highway without him right by my side. Now, when I do, I feel like I'm playing a game with death. Not only I suck at it, I can't even take in the thought of doing it without him.
Insanity has started to reign in my head for every nostalgic reason.
At the moment, this feeling makes me feel cracked up.
I miss his existence.
I have no clue as to what am I searching for NOW.

From Purple Lover to Purple Assassin.

From where this begins, it seems like a long story. I chose to be happy. To be content with whatever comes my way. And gradually this started meaning- loving everything, hoping for nothing, keeping zeroed expectations, bestowing self-less love, remembering the happy things, leaving behind every reason that made me feel low, and trusting God.
After going through times where S died, and everything, I was pulled down to a phase where nothing made sense, and everything was too fragile to deal with. This phase was the Purple Lover's time. The one who failed to understand the reasonlessness needed in this pretty world.
Now that she had failed to know the truths and the right ways to be dealing with them, she needed a total replacement.
So, I threw her away trading the nothingness for The Purple Assassin.
The Purple Assassin is a person who doesn't need reasons to do favors, or to be good around. She is this happy person, who faces the worst of times in the most happiest ways by dillusioning me. Somehow, this person is perfect to be. She traded my sorrows and hard times for better thoughts. And even defeat started sounding perfect to me.
Now that there's nothing left that can pull me down, I've kept this savior assassin for ever. And this purple assassin's gonna do all the problem solving now. 'cause there are better things for me to deal with. :)
Toast to the new me (The Purple Assassin) and to being happy for no reason.
To laughing like the laughter of a child, without a thought of what's in store for tomorrow.
To new beginnings.
To newer dreams.
To better realities.
To Loving.
To being Purple.
To The Purple Assassin. :D

Wednesday, 19 September 2012

The Morning Blues.

The truth is the mid-semesters are already over by now. The things I've been working on have been piled up right beside me for the moment and it's time for G's birthday.
I've known her long enough to say that nothing I do today would suffice the amount of love I have for her. She has been my best friend. And the thing is, all along she has been better than any of you could probably imagine. I don't know why, but I thank my karma to bringing this to me, I probably must have done something really beautiful in the past life to have such an amazing person around.
I thought I would never say this to anyone, but she has zero flaws. and for all the good reasons, there is no soul as pure as hers.
She thinks straight from her heart, and once this happens whatever the decision is, there is no going back.
The first thing I did getting up in the morning, was what gift could express the level of purity she has within herself. Then I thought of making a box of fortune cookies, ones with great wishes around. Something that could say how amazing she is every time she feels the blueness. I'll get onto making it. At least until something  better pops into this head.
A few days ago, I had a dream.
A dream where I could see her, in a Gurudwara, where the rest of the world was dying to get a glimpse of the visibility of God, and she was in her veil, talking to God himself. And rather than her being amazed, it was God who was rejuvenated. The truth is even in the real life, she has set the morales so high, that for normal people like me, sometimes, its very hard to catch up to those standards. I keep telling people how good she is, but there can never be words to define that level of purity.
She is the epitome of all the goodness that has existed, and even God would make an exception if it was for her.

Thursday, 30 August 2012

Dreams of you.

You're my lullaby.
Every night, I have to lie to myself that you're there. Still here. Never gone. Like nothing happened.
These lies bring in me the peace of your presence.
I talk to different people, to try to avoid the feel of your absence. I try to make you disappear from my mind.
But then, everytime you end up coming back.

I dreamt of you last night. It felt like you still existed.
I stayed in my home and waiting for you to show up, and this time you did.
You entered and then we left for some place together.
We went back to the times we lived in.
In those places with our friends waiting at the ice-cream parlour. We met them again. The last time I had seen them was with you. It felt like we were back to the life we used to have. Cracked jokes, talked shit and were happy. Like everything was for real. Like nothing ever went wrong. Like no one ever died.
Like we could still play scotland yard, screaming like hell.
like we were always waiting at the terrace for the night to end and the day to begin.
Like every eclipse that we saw together came back to make us see it again.
Like everytime I looked out of the balcony thinking of you, you could show up and give me the presence of your dimples.
Like I could still dance in the rain with you.
Like you could kiss my cheek again letting me know that nothing ever went wrong.
Like those kitkats could get back to me from you.
Like we could still drive longer distances just knowing that nothing else mattered but your presence in my world.
Like you could just exist.
Like you never died.
Like nothing ever went wrong.
Like I could still caress your hair and fall asleep in your arms.
Like you existed again.
 If only, one of these wishes could be granted, I'd give up everything.

Wednesday, 22 August 2012

The Zenith of Happiness.

It's towards salvation when things that should matter start to matter. When we step above the strands of complacency unto the realizations of happiness.
Writing was my drive, not getting it published. It hurt a little when I didn't see my name back in there. but then came upon a beautiful realisation, as to what really matters? was it writing for ekphrasis or getting it published?
Peace is hard to find within oneself, but when the self knows what you're seeking and its worth, things turn out to be much better.
As K once told me what was reiterated by Lord Krishna in Mahabharata.. "Karmanye vadhikaraste ma phaleshu kadachna Karmaphalehtur bhurma te sangostvakarmani." meaning, the worth is lost when we expect the fruit of what we did. And there it loses all it's essence.
Life is beautiful. Scores and markings won't make a difference to those who know what matters at the end of the day.

Sunday, 12 August 2012

Letting the guard down.

After so many years of avoidance and taking steps back, I finally took a move on clearing things up. Not that I come with clean hands, but as for now, I'm not doing anything wrong.
Their thoughts matter. Be it in the positive sense we talk, or the negative one, it matters what they think about me, they're the only people in the world I owe my entire life to, and everything in me. When they browse the news and think that I might someday be the victim of the maybe assault or rape or harrasment (They just mention the case, the fear in their feeling goes evident), and then they point it at lost focus in life due to involvement with someone, it kind of cripples me.
This time the wrong gone version of the brother sister tale narrated to me, kind of set my head on fire. Thinking this is all that they can think I could do. I felt like they don't trust me at all. At least, such stories make me feel like that.
So, I wrote down a text to her, stating that I might have gone wrong in the past, but now, all that's in my head is focusing on what you expect of me, and standing upto those expectations. I've been trashed out and even black headed, but I've gained my momentum and revised my concise to knowing that what matter for me above everything is 'you'. and that I wasn't looking forward to being involved at all.
Not that it ain't true. I love them more than I've ever known of love. But somehow, when I'm not trusted, I feel bad.
Then I thought what it was like, letting the guard down. Earlier in the morning, she called to know if I was doing fine (she normally replies to all my texts, she had taken the night off in replying before she called in the morning).
The conversation went haywhile until she raised it to that text, I avoided it by saying that I was with a friend, could talk to her only later.
Then for hours, it kept stricking my head, whether I was wrong in stating so.

When it came down to today's visit home, I could only think of the newer set of justification I could frame, to you know, answer.
Moments before I was about to leave the house she said, 'Even if you wana run away with a boy, do it! It doesn't matter if he's kayasth or not, Never marry someone we ask you to... Marry someone you want to!'.
I hugged her and said that there was nothing in this world that could stand up against the kind of love I had for her.
Today has meant more than just a lot.
It has taught me that no matter what I do, my parents would respect my decisions. Not that I'd chose the wrong things, but I'll make sure I don't ever let them down.
For everything it's worth, I'll wish I have the same mother in every life I ever get.

Wednesday, 8 August 2012


Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars... I could really use a wish right now!

All that's running in my head is excitement. This time, I'm really doing what I've been longing to do all along. That's keeping Roza in it's true sense. How glad it makes me feel is above my capacity to define. These little things make me feel the real sense of happiness. They make me float above my frustum.
Music is the magic to it. It makes everything worthwhile.

I'm just wishing this happiness lasts, and that I don't give it up to my needs and rise above my sense of pain and find a newer level to fight myself off.
I'm just exactly where I want to be, getting up at 3 30 in the morning, being so excited about this new schedule and then waiting to know what the real sense of starvation feels like.

I'm looking for those answers again. The ones I had thought that i had left behind. The quest seems promising maybe. I'll try to find ways to contact him. The plan is 'planchette'. Sounds a little uncanny maybe, but I have high hopes.
When I sometimes think about what I lost then, I didn't realise back then, and now it comes back to make me realise what in true sense was lost.

As for the second thing is up, the hopes and aspirations are dead.

Not to kill this happiness, I'm so up for Roza. The fact of today's (kinda) exam is just like a lie.
I'm hoping to  keep things the way just the way they are today.

The innate attraction to the devil.

This sounds strange probably, but people like me have a very strong attraction towards doing things qualified as 'wrong' for the normal people. Worst part is when it seems so right despite knowing the repercussions.
This has meant, I've been in probably every wrong place at wrong times, without feeling guilty about it.
This innate attraction towards it makes it cheesier.
Not that I like doing wrong, it's just that sometimes it's not possible to make it sound 'wrong' to your own ears.
Overdosing sleeping pills has been my favourite of everything, it nullifies every feeling, despite how crackling that might be.
Nicotine, despite how hard it was to be doing it, yet I felt so fuckin' interested in doing it, that every thought that classified it as wrong got itself fucked up.
When with S, it sounded no wrong at all.
The thing is, despite all, I feel that we shouldn't blame ourselves and never classify whatever we did as being wrong. 'cause at that standpoint of time, we were probably right in chosing whatever we chose. Regret is no option. It was right, and remains right if you felt so.

Every time I think of what am I doing to myself being in these wrong places, I always find a better justification than I had the last time!

Sunday, 5 August 2012

The Mortal Intentions.

Sometimes, the intention is not what matters. It's the ultimate thought.
Particularly, to the fact that 30 years is that maximum limit that I've set up for my life, there is probably no valid justification, but deep inside of me, I know that this would be right.
Sometimes its not about what we think is right or wrong, sometimes, what matters is what we want at the end of the day. It could be self immolation, jumping from across the bridge, choking oneself to death, or like in my case, just a silent poison.
I believe,  30 years is just enough time for me to accomplish what I want from my life. A single more day, would mean millions of more mistakes, and frankly speaking, I'm not too sure if I'm ready for the repurcussions.
I've believed, that every day, I kill more insects, more problems are created for the world by me each day. If I am born here, I've got my things to accomplish. Like making some money so that a few kids can get a life to help'em reach a normal life to be able to serve the same purpose for a few more kids. This will one day reach a point when none would suffer (that's too long to think about, but.. yes, I believe someday that will happen too). Alongwith providing home to a few parents who've been abandoned by their kids. I can't take the thought of my parents being without some one to take care of. This really kills me. Knowing the fact that there are million others suffering from what's even hard to imagine is absolutely sick.
So I'll have 3 homes. Beside each other. In the one in the middle, I'll live with like around 7 dogs. (There's nothing in this world I love more than my dog, Stevie; he's more than just a human). I'll adopt every abandoned dog I'll find, and will give them my home. *abandoned is different from the ones that live by the street*. The second home would be for the kids, (legally, I won't be authorised adoption, I sure can get the guardianship rights, and custody henceforth). and the third one for the parents. That would give me my dream family to be. With lots of kids, parents and pets.
The one thing my friends often question about this dream is choice of singlehood. I avoid straight forward answering. but the true reason is that I've decided to not let any one make me go through that again.
When S died, I died in the inside. So many times, I had to tell myself that I had parents responsible for me too. Because I wanted to die. I loved him so much, that he haunted me for months and years. Even now, I often see him in my dreams. I never got my answers. not even from God. Now, I'm not seeking them anymore.
I hate me for who I've become. But, I'm not looking up to changing  anymore.

Thursday, 2 August 2012

Creed and being broken.

There can't be something as amazing as the music by Creed. Everytime there's something different to offer within the same song. Feels like even a million hearings won't cover for the magic it carries within itself. The aura is amazing.
It makes me think of him and what might someday happen.
I see a few stories.
The one that says the song is playing in my head and we're at a pub with different people. And in the crowd, we spot each other halfway through. I see him coming to get for me, looks at me and smiles. Apparently, I keep staring him, searching for all the reasons I couldn't find. He reaches for me and gives me a hug and there's no going back. We end up travelling together and without any justification every problem ends. Everyday, this little dream pops into my head and can't find a way back aboard.
There's this other version too.
I see myself standing in the library, searching for something I can't find. That's when someone props me from the behind, and says there's someone waiting for me at the outside. As I move to the outer space, I don't see anyone and then suddenly someone holds me and kisses my cheek. I see it's him. Like what happened never happened ever. I cuddle him up. We take the road and the fight is a distant memory.

Sometimes in the night, I wake up and cry, thinking that he's waiting right outside the main entrance and they won't let him in. He keeps defying the odds and that every other way is blocked.

I don't have any justification for whatever is happening around. But, it's happening again.
It's struck me harder. And, seems like there is no solution to Death.
I miss him.

Monday, 23 July 2012

The Lesser Known Truth.

The masquerade of philanthropy got revived,
After they looked into her dead soul,
From true colors to blue colors,
Everything lied flattered on the floor.

She breathed those corners even in her death,
In her life, though she bled;
She transpired the facades of thorns,
Knowing her fate was yet to be born.

The shovels of the black hearts stabbed her parts,
Like they were pawns to the dart,
Knowing lesser about their mortal intentions,
She drifted from deception to faith.

The last cord of desire hung loose again,
For the man of the departed that rose,
He covered himself in her blood;
And left the last stroke of his real self untold.

Long after she was gone,
They opened the grave of the less fateful,
She was all covered in filths of feather,
Lesser known by all, God’s Mother.

This poem based on the said Painting tries to say that the painting portrays that the World began with the Adam’s apple which was bestowed to the world after God’s mother gave him birth. The world was all red in her blood, until the apple was eaten away by Adam and Eve. Giving out this birth was a very difficult task for God’s mother and she tried to hide it away in a masquerade however there was one mistake that they made. Eve was an outsider, they shouldn’t have told her. She carved it out in a painting and so the secret got out. That’s how the beginning of the world is portrayed in this epitomic work.

I wrote this poem for a poem writing competition in which a poem had to be written over the mentioned painting.

Thursday, 5 July 2012

The Blood of Silence.

It flows down in me, the blood of my Grampa, the one who didn't speak much.
I am practically in the worst stance at the moment. Don't know where did I pick this up from. Now, it has become difficult for me to look into the eyes of people. I prefer looking at the ceiling or walls or the floor. I'm scared to look them in the eye. Anyone and Everyone. They scare me. All of them.
Not just that, I prefer my own self over company. It is becoming evident now.
Not that I was this kind of a person, I was someone who used to love company; infact I had to have people all around me all the time.
This ended somewhere until I got here.
Now, I like silence, even when it sometimes pains in the mouth after keeping mum for like hours.
I am not much of a TV person either, more of a reader.
These days, the definition of me is changing again.
Somehow, I've started to like this person.
But, sometimes I find myself in the wrong positions. Like when I'm in company, especially of those I know, I hate being there. I can't think straight then, all that's running in my head is when is the next moment alone. I end up suggesting wrong stuff or giving wrong answers, despite knowing the right ones.
This turn is not good. I'm practically impractical to a lot of them. They end up thinking like I have lost focus in my life. Doesn't bother me, but I prefer being without everyone, than being with any one at all.
This sounds a little anti-social, but this part of me is the best of every one I've been.
From being the outspoken, loud, hasty, loving person, I'm now a pervert, low esteemed, understated, quite, sit in the corner types. Except for my sister, I don't practically talk myself out to anyone. This leaves me with lesser friends and foes both. Quite Sober.
I think I'd like to stay this person. :) Atleast until I find someone else to be!

Monday, 2 July 2012

Unsaid Words.

And the evil momentum passed by,
taking away it's blues;
rose amongst the faded shades,
Sun amongst the darkest hues.

And the one who should've waited left,
not wondering what was to happen now,
They were all the same,
faces of slander, wrath and brawl.

The part of me that he took away,
killed out the left one,
and all that marked its presence,
was a loud shreak of silence.

From lefts to rights,
every curve gave away it's facade;
and crushed out the feel of pain,
the left outs were just a broth of vain.

Everything went back to nothing,
and took off with the filths of wonder.
And I was left by,
within nowhere to ponder.

Test of time is something everyone goes through, those times add shades of blue to our lives. We give up to grow up and take those memories to write our memoirs of hope.
And sonner or later, we rise again either with it or without it.

This is my last post at The Writer's Lounge.

Saturday, 23 June 2012

If Only.

If only.
It were just you and me.
At a candle light.
Just the little silence,
With you staring at my eye,
While my eye lied to myself and hid itself within the brows,
The little smirf smile on your cornered lip,
Like you hid something within them,
And when they rose,
They’d glance at the eyes of yours,
And find in them the completeness,
With the courtier of your laughter
Within which I could find my years to pass by,
With the lousy homemaker’s bakery,
And that glossy makeups for date nights,
With alternate shifts of picking up the kids,
Yogurt nights, payjama parties,
With you snoring right beside me,
Sometimes cuddling you up,
Sometimes cuddled within you,
With your nose rightly touching mine,
Finding your teary tissues in the wash space
And kissing you like for forever,
Taking each of your problem away,
And when I think of dying,
Lying right beside you,
With you hiding away that pain
Being immortally bound to you,
And never leaving you behind,
Every little dream within your smile,
I wish it could someday come true.
Coz all I ever did was loved you,
Even after you were gone.
Too far to wonder about.

Thursday, 21 June 2012

Leaving things behind.

Everything changes. Situations. People. Ways of reacting. Just Everything.
Sometimes, it's acceptable. Sometimes, it's not. When we have expectations attached to circumstances, it gets worse. 'cause, the otherwise is not really acceptable. Sometimes we overdo the same thing, to work things out the way we expected, but when the don't stand upto it, the stand point collapses.
That's how it happens everytime. Trust is not important, what matters is what is in the head.
Everything is fragile. So  it falls apart.

Saturday, 16 June 2012

And it rained again.

Everytime it rains, it's kind of like a moment of truth for me, those past memories which got buried long ago come up.
Everytime it would rain, my grampa and I would play those chessy games, muma would make those delicious pakoras and pa would joke around, we'd all sing together or go for a ride together to check out how the city looks without light.
It is a wonder how fast time flies away. after i lost my grampa in 2006, everything started getting itself a duller look. The glue that held our entire family together was no more. It's so hard to bring things back to normal after all this.
He was the best man in the world. He taught me to walk in the rain and have fun dancing outside when other sat back at home. He waited everytime standing on the door, whenever I got a minute later than I should.
He is the only person who taught me that it was fine if you ate the food with your left hand, while others kept trying to change the hand I used.
His umbrella was my favourite, 'cause it was pretty big. It held me and him in it together.
Grampa would always make li'l jokes about things that happened, and everytime I'd say 'should I tell you one thing?' he'd always say 'make it two.'
His loud laughter still echos in my mind, like the best sound ever. Every time it feels like it would rain again, the swing downstairs reminds me of him and me swinging along singing old songs.
Every family needs my grampa, people like him decorate the world within their own colors.
He was a writer too, moments before he made his last diary entry, he was with me, checking upstairs, if I were doing fine. Muma n Pa were in B town, cause of muma's cancer treatment, and despite all my resistance as a teenager, this old man climbed upstairs, despite having recommended not to use the stairway, to see if I wasn't getting hurt by my newly discovered passion for cooking. All I did was slam a door, scream that We were fine and totally ignore him.
Few moments later he made his diary entry, writing how blessed he was, to have me around, and how much I mattered despite everything.. and then after he went to sleep, there was no coming back.. he had a heart attack, it gave him 14 more days of coma and on 14th Feb'2006 he passed away.

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

The Buried Past.

Two years ago.
Probably the beginning of the rainy season like today.
He drove from in-front of my house, while i noticed him from the other part of the road. He saw that I was surrounded by my relatives, so he just smiled at me and gave a little nod.
I was too in terror of the relatives, so I just gave an amazed and confused look. The next moment I saw the text on my fone saying -Don't worry just come to the 2nd lane when you're free, I'll be waiting in there. Love S.'
He is my entire world to me. Everything.
I started talking and the first thing for me was him. 'Shee' was what I used to call him. Nurserys are a faded memory but for his loud laughter. He and me were all that was I knew.
I grew up with his voices, every part of me has a lot of him connected to me.
We learned bicycling together. I'd always sit at his back, and he'd never make me fall.
He got his first gifts for me, so did I. We would sit on the terrace of my house, and gaze at the sun. His sister was my sister too.
He was everything to me. My best friend.
When they shifted their home, he'd still come by everyday, 'cause I couldn't ever resist him.
His first bike, I was the one he took, despite not knowing how to handle two on a bike. We nearly fell. All my childhood pictures have him beside me.
While they went upstairs, I sidelined myself and went to the 2nd lane.
Climbing to the side seat of the car, I asked-how long has it been? he just said that he was angry at me.
We had left for the K town together, for the higher studies. He went to another institution though, we were meant to be together.
However, due to some family problems, he came back, and i was still there.
It had been 6 months apart, and due to the overload of the book work, i hardly contacted him.
this time when i got back for a friend's reason, I didn't tell him; cause I had started thinking that probably he's busy in his own world.
He was still giving me that ignore expression while i wondered where he was taking me.
'I'm sorry. I had to come this time, 'cause G's brother is getting married.'
His hand moved to the dashboard and he took out the a chocolate packet. They were the Kikats, ever since I was born, they were my favourite and everytime I was with him, he had to get me some.
I ignored everything around and grabbed them, and started eating them.
'So, you don't have to even tell me when you're around?' he stopped the car at around a coffee shop and started looking into my eyes. " I said I was sorry for like a 100 times already S. I'm so sorry, I thought you had your coachings too, so you'd be too busy".
'OK Fine. you don't have to tell me ever, keep thinking whatever you feel like.' "no, S. You know, I'm really sorry, I swear I'd not do this ever again'.
He leaned in and hugged me, I gave him a kiss on his right cheek and then we left  for the coffee.

"This is the 22nd time" he smiled and asked when was I getting back. I said he knew the answer already.
 Everytime he said he wanted to be my boyfriend, I'd tell him that these years were for concentrating in the academics, 'cause we needed better futures. He kept insisting and here we were when he asked it again for the 22nd time.
I said 'Has there been any one other than him that I wanted to be with? ', just that commitment for a bit more than what I needed back then.
He took a sip in his coffee and looking to the other side said, "I want to marry you someday".
I choked the sip and he grabbed a glass of water to my comfort, and said 'I think it was too much to ask for'.
I then had my round of justifications, where through the ride back to my place, I gave every possible reason to not be in a relationship at that moment.
He just kept saying that it was OK. I knew the look didn't suffice, so  I kept adding to it.
While he stopped the car, I said I was sorry, and that I love him. He said 'the next time, when you mean it, let me know'.
He really loved me, and for all the weird reasons, I couldn't love him back.
I didn't want to 'not' love him, so I got so many good friends of mine to try falling for him. He was 6. They did, but he couldn't love them back.
While I drove the other day alone, I realised that everytime I had ever driven my two wheeler, I was with him. He was sitting behind me, or riding alongside.  He's the one who taught me how to ride it.
I loved him. But not the way he did, all this while, I was waiting for the strong feeling of love towards him to drive me into him.

3 months after that.
Ever since I left, he called each evening to know if I was fine, but after a few days, he stopped saying the last line he used to, that he loved me.
For a few days, I was too hasty and then I asked if he was seeing someone?
He said he wanted to.
Within a few days, I got my tickets to my hometown done and without telling him.AGAIN. I left to back him. It was december.
After I landed, the first thing i did was going straight to his home. He was cleaning his shelf. I grabbed a few clothes of him and started folding them.
"you're back" was the first thing he said.
"whom is it?" i asked. he got back to grab other clothes, while I kept a few in the other part of the shelf.
Holding my waist kissing my cheek, he said in my ears "You.". I was in tears. this time i loved him back, even more.
Holding him by his neck, I pulled him closer, and kissed his lips. He kissed me back. That was our first kiss.
The three days I spent were entirely with him, going home by the night. As soon as I left, he'd call me and till I was asleep he'd talk to me. During the day, we'd go to places we never knew about, nearby towns.
All the other times we spent at his place, he'd make meals and feed me with his hands.
The next morning I was supposed to leave for the K town again. Had a year left to spend in there. while we got back from the long drive, and we got back to our phone, he said 'If there was one thing I really wanted, would you give it to me?'. 'Anything' was my prompt reply, not knowing if I could really do that or not. "stay" was what he said, I saw a tear trickle down my eye, "as if i don't want to', I said, trying as much as possible to hide the cracking in my voice.
"What about you?" I said, he was like, "what is it that you want?" I said 'tonight, i wanna fall asleep in your arms'. The next moment I saw someone across the locked part of my balcony. I got the keys and trying to make the least sound, I opened it. We sat in the swing while i lay my head across his chest.
It was harder than ever to hold back the tears.He caressed my hair.
I grabbed him tight enough, "I wana be with you always.". "how long is your always sweety?" He laughed his dimples out. 'Stop making fun of me' and till the sun rose we talked about silly things. It was around 5 20, I had  my flight at 9. You know the other day, I decided I'll marry you once you get back, and won't let you go anyday'. with this he kissed me and I kissed away his tears. 'I don't think you've packed, go get some sleep too, I'll be there by 8'. I kissed his cheek again and did that thrice, till i could see his dimples in that laughter.
He kissed my nose and said "go and let me go, We'd end up waking the others"
While I packed and spent those hours, my eyes were wet enough.
I had got him a portrait of all our present pictures together, this was to ensure that he'd remember me, after falling for the 'other girl' I was expecting. I loved him so much, I just wanted him to be happy, with me or without me.
While he drove, he kept holding my hand, other than while changing geyers. the moistness in my eyes didn't fade away till we were almost in there. while he got  to the back of the car to get my bags, I took that picture wrote 'always love you. -S' and kept it in the dashboard.
He waved me a goodbye.

20 Days later.
Getting up everyday to the sound of his voice had become my habit so badly, that nothing else could wake me up.
That day I didn't have any reason to, but I couldn't sleep all night. When his phone call came in the morning saying 'Get up sweeto' I just said that I missed him too much, he was like "howcome you're up?" I told him i couldn't sleep all night.
The rest day went like any other day, texting him all day. He texted in the evening that he was goingto see some relatives in the other part of the town.
I waited till about 8, and he didn't pick up.
it wasn't normal for someone who picked up the phone at the first ring. I called up at his home too, there wasn't any response.
After an hour, I got a call from my mother saying that she had a very bad news to deliver and she said-
"S was no more".
Those lines tore me apart. He was crashed out in a road accident.
For the next few days, I didn't know anything about time.

Today,It's 14th June, 2012, He died on 20th January 2010, it's been 2 years. Feels like everything just got incomplete. He is no more. Nor is the love.
He's dead today. It's not possible to believe it even today.
Every time i look at the other lane, I search for that smile in that white car to drive by.
For the terrace to find him smiling.
For those Kitkats.
For him.
I almost killed myself after he died.
I still love him, just that he's not around to love me back.

Friday, 8 June 2012

At the Parlour.

People do wonder what is it in a Parlour that keeps a girl so close to itself. Well, it was pretty much told in Legally Blonde 2, but then still.. it's the talks. Sometimes, all you need is ears.. ears to tell whatever wrong is happening around, and just while they're doing your nails, they'll pick out the reason in a line and you'll wonder how come it was so easy to arrive at it.
The truth is every thing is pretty simple, just like that. It's just that sometimes figuring them out becomes tough. We can't really point the fingures at anyone in anything, we're all not wrong and wrong at the same time. 'Cause we make li'l mistakes to bring it up to the bigger mess. We might think that we contributed the least, but those least contributions make up the heap.
Silly things yet count so much.
No matter what, a parlour remains a paradise for girls. Not 'cause it offers those services, but because of the Ears.

Thursday, 7 June 2012

From within the Frames.

The world outside is a mere image of the 'real' world, probably Socrates's thought. Today while I drove upto Gym, I wondered about the reality in his thoughts. We were taught the earlier semester that language is one of the non-real mediums we've chosen to interact with the real world. But, what is Real? is it the world the way it looks like? or is it the way we've canvased in saving it within the frames of our glasses?
Too many things to ponder abort.
Every time I drive, I see the world like a long road. We all have different starting points and destinations; yet some of us drive too hastily to leave the others behind. How well is that justified? when the races are different, track definitions are different, will it even matter if one of us is ahead of the other. Sometimes, there are hoards of vehicles culminated like in a cluster, they're competing within each other, again why are we even racing? For a time or so, we might have same destination, but then ultimately the total journey is different.
They all talk about coming First in the classes. I fail to see the point in that.

The Beginner's Soul.

This is not the first time I'm planning to write. Every time, like every other thing, I leave this incomplete too. Why is it so hard to finish what you began? Have had wrong timings at probably everything.
Past left behind, it was my new year's resolution to be better in terms of what I think.
Bitching. This is one thing that has got me behind everything.
I plan to find a way out of it.
Working big times on health issues. Not bad at Academics too. A li'l bit of writing going up too.
Waiting desperately for these fuckin' vacations to end. They screw up my head too bad.
After everything that  has happened, every one I've screwed things up to, I really want a clear and better way up. Letting myself down seems like an everyday thing, giving Justifications that's the worst. I fuckin' do it every day. Screwed up Head.
I really wana do better than this. I can.
At CLAT, I screwed it again. Nevermind, I continue to be where I am.
But these tonnes of 'neverminds' have been the fuckin' reason I can't make it up to myself. Just too much below the level of expectations.

With another Nevermind, I've gota kick start it again.
With other plans (Hoping not to fail like always) to screw up.
With nothing else but a blank brain.
I've gota prepare for UPSCs to come up after the 4 years. Not another thing to screw up.
I've had JEE, EEE blah blah blahs screwed up.
and whereever I made it, I didn't go.
ended up here, once and for all.
One year of my life just got burried in no-where. After someone very close died, I had decided that no matter what I do, I wouldn't end up in here. and here I am, no where but here.
What followed was worse.. These years, 2010, 2011 and 2012 probably brought out the worst in me.
No matter what I did, felt like I was being blamed for it.
My love for cooking stood nowhere.
Regrets apart.
I plan to write it off.. all along.. all my stupid gestures..regrets.. failures.. that's how I fight it off.. I leave it somewhere.. or at rather Dump it.. so here it is... The Shit Space to move on for me.