Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Have you ever noticed when you park the car after a drive in the rains, how drops of water trickle down the wind-shield of the car. As they move down slowly, they gather other drops and streak like a stream across your vision. Sometimes I see the feelings from my past do the same. Streams that gather droplets, getting bulkier and rolling down faster than they were in the previous moment. Somehow those streams always lead to you. You, sitting there cross-legged. Looking at the world around you like it was a mystery that you knew a lot about. You sitting with a smiling face, tears locked away in little boxes. Perhaps there is something wonderful about you but you won’t let the world see it.
You and I have a lot in common than either of us would want to admit. I know that we were in the same boat once but then the tides changed. You went on with the low tide, floating away. I surfed over the high tide thinking of big things and hiding the small ones. I do realize that the small ones matter but then I guess you were better with those. You knew about the magic that the smaller bits beheld. I wonder if you would have shared it with me!
I sometimes think of you and me as the same person. I dream of holding your hand and walking around with you. I wake up and realize that you ran away. Or maybe I left you stranded somewhere and I moved away. It gets a bit unclear but I do know that I am sorry for leaving you. I remember the tiny shoes that you loved. The toys that you prized. I remember that you wanted to run up to them and show your next wonderful thing. You wanted to surprise them. You wanted to love. To be loved. You wanted to remain like you always are in my memory. You somehow didn’t. I did not let you do all of that. I told you to stop running to them because I knew how bad you felt when you realized that your little wonders meant nothing to them. I tried to protect you from the pain that I thought you wouldn’t be able to take. Maybe I overdid it.
Perhaps you needed another chance. Perhaps you were ready to take the "no’s". Perhaps you wanted to run and fly even when no one noticed or cared. I did not really think that you were strong enough. So I made you give up that glint that you had in your eyes. And I made you pack up your wonders and mysteries into those little boxes. Times changed and you weren’t around anymore. Not because you didn’t want to but because I didn’t want you to stick around and get into a mess. You walked away because you didn’t know what else to do. You listened to me. You did. And you were gone with your delights, laughter, smiles, tears, joys, surprises and a lot more. You carried away all those boxes, every single one of them.
I know that you are out there somewhere with your eyes still shining with the next surprise that they behold. Your little hands shaping the outlines of amazing dreams. You were not scared to dream. No you weren’t. You dreamed like a free person. Nothing could contain your dreams. When they told you that some things are just not possible, you told me that they were stupid. You told me that things seem impossible even when they actually were possible because we did not have the courage to accept that the possibilities do not end at any quarter. I laughed at you and asked you to listen to them.
I slowly became what you never were. I became them. Or at least a part of them. I agreed more with them than I did with you. Not because I did not like you but because I liked you too much! I did not want you to run into disappointments and failures all the time. I did not want you to fall. I did not want to get you into trouble. I did not want you to stop being yourself. And then I did exactly what I did not want to do. I tried to stop you from being yourself. I tried and when I could not, I sent you away.
You know, ever since you have gone, I have felt hollow. I have felt like there’s so much missing from me. I have felt so incomplete. Even empty. But I still carried on and every day I put another layer of bricks between you and me. Pushed myself farther and farther from you. I almost forgot you for a time and I felt so good. I felt good because I no longer had to look back and regret what I had lost. The joy as is obvious was rather short-lived. I remembered you when I looked in the mirror and realized that I had no glint in my eyes.
I sometimes try to think of you and me as the same person. I try to remember when we were together. When I used to call you I. When you used to call me I. Those were some days. I cannot really remember or maybe I cannot accept that I was like that at some time of my life. When I could win everything without losing anything.
Today, I can lose everything and I realize that I need you a lot. I need you to bring those little boxes and open them up again. I want to feel and see those wonders. I want to feel the mystery of the world unraveling around me. I guess now you realize why I am writing this to you. I am writing this because I need us to be together again. I will not tell you to listen to them because now I know how right you were and how wrong they were. I will not ask you to hide your shining eyes and magic in tin boxes. I would accept that you are me. I really would if given that chance.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Corroborate truth to emcompass reality!
Frugal sensibilities lie rather still -
On the outskirts of consciousness,
While I retrograde into my yesterday...
Fingers clenched, waiting in silence,
To be held and led to continuity.
The flute of ebbing realizations,
Tunes into the timbre of thoughts,
And I lie sombre, letting dusk float -
Into my vision of blurred acceptance.
They, on the other side slide along,
A certain trance manifesting itself -
In their looks that gaze at my form.
Perhaps oblivious or just unnerved,
By the solidarity of my timid steps!
Swords sometimes don't hurt as much,
As the syllables that are undone -
In the silence of sulking dreams.
They wouldn't step aside or let go,
Of the echoes that they reflected.
Sounds scattered across the horizon,
That separates me and my past.
I rush around for a lonely corner,
I strum an unknown chord again,
To play with a chance of possibility -
Of abandoning all hope that be!
But prone I was as I later discerned,
To the capacity that truth beholds,
For truth indeed does contain reality,
And somehow I have subsumed truth,
Ever since I have played presumptions -
To escape hope in the dark silence...
But consciousness kicks in quietly,
While the flute fades away at dawn.
And I continue my tryst with hope!
Maybe this is the very last strand...
Brief Insight (Since was asked to put this in by someone)
This is about a man sitting in retrospect of the life that has gone by. He is thinking of things that have happened, people that have pushed him down... And he is trying to understand why he still continues... why he still has hope of goodness remaining...Everytime he feels that this is the last remaining strand of hope and that he would break after this... There seems to be more left... and so he carries on...
Monday, June 18, 2007
Innocent drops trickle down
On silent paper strips
To blot them in resilience
Overstep one's lines
Of thoughts and dreams
Unknown to reality,
Nightmares manifest -
In the cuckoo's nest...
Born from a shaking voice,
Lost before it is -
Found lying still,
Beside the albatross
Carved in wood...
Years passed away,
But words that
And words that meant
Were never spoken!
Scarring me with stains...
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Holding to my thoughts...
There's a doorway to dream about,
A matchstick moment...
To burn and turn to ashes!
Then silence turns so loud,
An echo of my footsteps...
Slipping through my fingers,
Holding to my thoughts...
There is a wonderful aliby,
That would set me free-
Broken similarities found,
In my little wooden box...
Another matchstick moment,
To burn and turn to ashes...
Then silence turns around,
To look at me and smile.
Leading on to bliss...
The vision windows
That I contain-
Or that contain me!
Watching from high ground,
Just oblivious to-
Little things that
Wonder in your dreams.
The tiny steps
That make you smile
And you don't realize
That the sounds
Are that of your