Alive and abide

December 28, 2008 § 6 Comments

From mobile photos!

And as the world stood below,
The skies are waiting to be conquered.
As the sunlight fades,
A need to be on top dawns.
The demons of hell shall never take a hand,
And even if death might someday,
Descend from the above,
Today,it is there to be won.
Not of avarice or glutton ,
But for the joy of life,
For living,for being human.

No curse can ever take an hand,
for goodness is innate in man.
Yet so an abyss depth can scare
and make you return to the ground.
Yet the inertial desire can never bind,
And so unlike a bird but like
An angle in your dreams,
You want to soar high,
high,higher than life.

Wont feelings can go away,
From this day,
From this moment on,
There is no wrong,
Except that which
threatens to break
The fundamentals of life.

Freedom is that which you can,
Where you are;Being bound,
is the zealous curse of a virus
Whose strength of life is dead.
Though another one among all,
A dot in a line,endless,
If not for you,everything shall
End.A code, fathomless,
Yet innate,twixt,nexus,
Between an end and beginning
known yet unknown,
For such is the refection,
Surreal in reality,
yet real in immortality.

Many dreams surround,
Myriad dreams make life,
It shall go by,
And all i wish is to reach
Beyond my reach,
Move away from the circles,
Take a leap from the vertex
of a triangle and move along,
the line,my locus shall be within.
Reality is what i perceive
And when i sleep,
The world is lull,
And me with alive
And morals within,I abide by.

 The light shines the brightest

She.

November 2, 2008 § 14 Comments

Majestic her hands swayed,
and senses failed-
reality was lost at the foot,
of her,oh!she the cute
girl,oh!she the flower
on a sensitive plant,
who sawys.Into a maze,
she leads me,where,
the sounds of divinity,
and the odour of life
smelts me into beauty
and in it i am lost,
in the deep end profoundity.
Callous becomes my belonging
and at last there she was,
the exilir to fulfil my longing.
Within me something took over,
and nothing can stop the fervor
which made me realize that a flower
which i dream all night,
now stood in front of me-within my sight,
within my reach.

My mind decided my action,
my heart was in reaction,
at the sight of its mate,
at last fate,oh!fate
was sweet and no more bleak.
The birds flew around the skies
and such a sight ,never dies,
the balance of light
and the senseless right,
which might will never might,
for which this fight
was the growth;
and now the stunned broke
and grew to heights-
so high,so high
that thoughts couldn’t hide.

A sudden push
and reality wakens
and realize,i do
that it was dream,
yet can it come true?
In hope,
i remain,
What is your name?

day dreaming

August 31, 2008 § 8 Comments

Sky.

freedom.

belonging.

clouds.

beyond.

Stars.

fly.

see.

feel.

touch.

burst.

mesmerizing.

happiness.

joy.

timeless.

beauty.

satisfaction.

contentment.

dream.

reality.

thinking.

pondering.

endeavor.

bigger.

better.

towards.

light.

sparks.

memory.

night.

reminder.

reach.

wish…

love is….

August 21, 2008 § 24 Comments

A guy loves a girl.The girl doesn’t love him.Usual story?In films,goons are the boon,they appear on the scene,from no where and steal a bag or do something stupid.Or the girl just gets impressed with something the guy does.Is it so in real life?In real life,it is the first impression which plays most part,for the human mind is capable of judgment and will use its discretion.Like in cinema ,in real life too friends and other around play an important part.But lets leave everyone else fro a while and concentrate on the guy and the girl.

The girl has judged the guy and she doesn’t love him.She doesn’t hate him either.The guy is head on heels and flatter on feet,water in the sky over her.He tries to impress her by doing a lot of things.But she isn’t impressed.The guy understands what is happening but likes her so much that he can’t forget about it.He wants her really badly,so what should he do?How can he impress her?Isn’t it best that he talks it out openly with her,instead go beating around the bush?isn’t better to put the facts and think on them?Especially if it affects the guy badly-mentally and emotionally?What do you think?

This post is dedicated to my friend O.And he didn’t ask me to post it.He doesn’t know about this yet.

P.S.: had a blast of a day.Went for a quiz and then had my school annual day.Two of my friends came 5th out of 746 participants.And the annual day went on well 🙂

Sunset

August 7, 2008 § 22 Comments

vish16

I just love this photo.I took this one about 3 years back,when i visited Mumbai 🙂

I have always wondered what is on the ‘other side’,i.e. beyond the horizon.So for a second let go of your reality and think about things which might lie on the ‘other side’.Also what if you controlled sun,what will you do?

Thinking about my identity

July 23, 2008 § 13 Comments

What is the use? what is the use of this world?

It is always amazing,to know that we the significant micro(maybe even smaller) particles who make up the universe have some purpose and a life to live.Why i live my life,in a regimented way,going to school,supposedly learning things.What will it be like to be in another planet? What will I be,if i were in another planet.Would that planet too have death as we have?What is the big deal anyway of being earthling?

Think of the universe,as it is.I know it is too big to fit into my minuscule three dimensional imagination,but whatever little i can ‘see’,leaves me perplexed ,confused and in a dire need for becoming larger than life itself.Why how can something so big exist in the first place? When i was small,the sun was just ‘nature’ something which i was born into.It was a constant,to the mind which was ready to be tinkered ,it saw what what others thought they saw.The moon Always represented an old lady making ‘idly’.the beach was a place where something called waves lashed on endlessly and if i ventured into it alone,i would be eaten by it.My life was of prime importance to me.Being another heir of the mistake stricken ,unwanted humanity,survival was the instinct.

But as i grew up,i slowly realized,that things are different.In fact education does at least that much to you.You are told that we belong to a solar system and that the moon goes around us.The next time i saw the moon,i looked  at it as an entity who was moving around the earth.Now i am digging really deep to feel what i felt then.It is surprising that ‘life’ is so old.What are these memories? So are we a dream,a memory too?

Me writing rather typing,is an memory in more ways than one.Since i am writing i do not care what happens else where around me.Why would i react when i am content,why the moment will always be embedded in me,carved into me,for i am in tune with the reminiscence of the world’s making. Did we go to the heavens because earth never satisfied us? Why when did we realize that we were nothing more that illusive little creatures,who don’t know anything?

On earth everything has the touch of man,as it has of ‘god’.Almost all our fellow creatures,all the flora and fauna which were painted with the magic wand along with us ,have been cut,dissected,bisected,trisected and researched upon. We have arrived at the conclusion that we are the only ones who can think the best.We were after all the once who discovered the existence of God.

Our identity as human beings,has perpetuated from our predecessors.But deep inside all of us know that this is not our absolute identity.When we look at the sky and stare stars and suns ,we feel an old belonging ,the sight of home,after an hiatus to hibernation. Since we are the clever modern super humans in terms of an ever expanding brain and since we know about the big bang and such and such,we run a particle accelerator inside our cramped cavity,reproducing with a eerie contentment,what we feel is the origin of the universe.We revel in it for a few spectacular moments,we run the jocund clowns of happiness in us to such speeds that ecstasy is what we pronounce.We are all happy to be home,we wish to keep seeing our Gods for longer,but the ever severing mind,declares that you have to break the bonds,to live life and produce yourself to sacrifice for the betterment of man.You don’t want it.Who wants to move from home,after a long voyage?Who wants to travel,when travel is all he has done?Who wants to swim,when he has all the while swam?Yet since you are the mind,with a rhetoric puffed up displeasure you try to satisfy your real want with a chronic happiness ,which is at most momentary and small enough to displease the materialistic narcissistic in you and carry on with it.I am trying to write something and all the while i am thinking of the wonderous world,whose width widens my perspective.I am here and i am not.

What is my identity?Am i a lost sibling of a distant star,for whom if i am found,i will look the same as when i landed on Eden? Or have i crossed an Adam’s bridge,to burn all that was bad and mortal? Am i an entity for whom this body was a lease,lent by earth to write off her ever lasting loans?Or am i, simply an animal,a tainted beast,with the curse of thought and want of fantastical fantasies to suit my ill-tempered unbalanced mind?What am i anyway?

Yes,i feel lost.Yes i feel lost here too.Yet i can hear the world,but i can’t see it.I can hear the old song,but my eyes have grown used to this,so that the old song,is a poignant, nostalgic de -javu.i dream up lands,i build my castles.I am a man,a human,who has written tales upon tales with fairies and fun and frolic but i am also the man who writes edifices and breaths the voice of an enigmatic Satan,a suitable tool ,one sprung during my autumn,to sooth the God in me.yet i know,i do not need him,for i was the one who gave god a face,which he can hold high and i was the one who taught him to write,so that he can say what he felt.I lent a being bigger than me,i lent it not one but two identity,i created a juxtapose of the good and the bad,of light and night,of God and Satan,yet i fail at lending myself a single identity.I call myself the third.I am happy to pull the strings of the first too.Yet my fingers move without my knowledge in my sleep,they want home and what they see is that destruction can retrace me,to where i belong.

There is music playing in the background.The song is melodious.It is a classic,it breaths life into the creature,whose identity is his name and his music.Why what caused him to play and create music?Did he realize that if he struck his strings and quietened the world with symphonies ,he might be able to shriek out for his lost sibling?Or did he realize that when he played his music,he could be himself ,free and inheritor of freedom,the absolute transparent being,who could smile away adversity and sleep ugly to beauty? I am listening to his and with gusto summoning my aesthetic consciousness to appreciate his ballades.I try to feel the same joy he felt when his fingers were let lose upon the keys,to key in the codes of his disparity among humanity.But his code was always good,for such is the magic,of the hands who are at home,always,poor pathetic things,they can’t see nor hear,they are slaves whose only wish is to satisfy their master, as they feel that is their duty and destiny.

Movements.The breeze tickles the trees.Those gigantic beings let out giggles.Why among humanity their existence is varied.One day they are paraphrased as the basic need for the survival of humanity’s earth,the next day,they are cut by the very hands,oh! pathetic hands,they are the only ones who want to get us home.

If my hands know my home,then why don’t I?Should i close my eyes,for all eternity,so that the reality has a chance to roll the dice and bring me home to see its son?I wish i could,but i have a mind,who is a ardent appraiser of the rebellious me.I am torn by my hands,physically and by my mind mentally.I ask you both,i think of either home or heaven-hell only when i am felt free,to my peace.They refuse.I shut my eyes.The hands sway the puppets of infinity,they try to hail home closer.The mind eats into me,they ruthlessly try to disrupt the harmony and bleed my namesake into surrender,but they fail ,neither will give up,i am the used,i am the user,i am between myself.I am still wondering about me and my true reality,one thing is for sure,i will lose mortality when i find the reality,let it be soon.Mortality is lost,when sense of reality is found.

May the world be in peace.Home is not far away,the darkest night,is the last of winter,the coldest water is one before the hot.Let the world exist at it should,let every man reach his harbor and let every flight end at home,may the world be in peace,i go to sleep….

an impulse

May 17, 2008 § 11 Comments

an impulse lifted his mood,
an impulse made him lift the hood,
an impulse made him less crude,
an impulse made him more shrewd.

from no where,a lost creature,
found its light,when precariously,
doodling in a rhetoric melancholy;
from deep inside-a gift from nature.

as time ticked by ,
the piece grew longer,
it was the one which made him stronger,
a lost turtle found the sea light.

slowly each word was scribbled,
slowly as he realized,
that he was no more what he had been,
but something special and unseen.

a new strength rose in him,
inspiration, he drank and in it he swam,
a new reality was formed,
in which he wouldn’t be harmed.

he threw his old shell,
he bid his old life farewell,
he forgave all those who had been cruel,
he added to his life a purpose,more fuel.

what destiny might hold,i do not know,
but the impulse which sowed and will sow,
inspiration and life into me,
is something beyond me.

if not for the impulse,
where will i be?
if not for that impulse,
what will i be?

from a frail being in an armor,
through which light was dim,
an impulse broke the shackles;
it was the best of all miracles.

let the gut -destiny
lead me to infinity.

prompt from

writer’s island.

losing mortality

May 8, 2008 § 6 Comments

oneday suddenly everyone will cry,
without words to match,we will die.
that day before death,
we all will reflect,
what we did,
in the life we were given,
what we did,
with the power of living.

at the hands of death,
where physical amortization
takes place,where our dirt
of manners becomes innuendo,
we all will think of what we did.

but as we live,
every second we give,
every second,
we save,we kill.
in all we try to fill
yet never listen to silence.

when we listen,
we learn,
we yearn,
we earn,
we beckon,
we understand,
and death becomes
a mere transition.

mortality is lost,
when sense of reality is found.

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