October 23, 2009

sEAsONs



Alone, lived there a leafless dry flower
secluded in a valley of misty dreams,
where love always seemed to glower
on hearts that bled along their seams.

Countless years of callous lonely strife
spent with no bees or dandelion by its side,
the flower still had to live it's pitiful life
whether it was in teary pain or sheer delight.

Along then came season of joy with a leaf
grown by it's side and fallen from no tree.
Caressing, days and nights in joy and grief
they laughed together with a swaying glee.

Bathed, scented in the fresh morning dew
they danced, smiled and sung a lovely tune,
even in a parched season of breathing few
their furtive love was found intricately sewn.

Short, muted sighs with kiss deprived smile
sailed calmly along the dreaded tide of time,
then came the gold chested fall with it's guile
enchanting the valley into it's obdurate twine.

Blew then the sad days of long winter wind
gnawing out their splitting soul as it cried,
with a parting kiss and memories not maimed
the lively leaf departs the flower's lonely side.

October 15, 2009

SkyLine

September 28, 2009

memoiR

One's mind is a journal of thoughts, memories and doodles of myriad imagination that flips its pages over and over throughout the life, making us realize of what, from and why we are today? For me, it has always been my family and my loved ones that made me what I'm. As any grand-kid on the face of this earth, I have always felt safe and warm on thinking about my grandparents (which I do still). The time that I had spent with them would outlive all the other moments of happiness. Aai has a special place in these golden moments. It wasn't her only grace or wittiness that amazed me as kid, but the small things that she used to do. Her daily routine of applying kajal, bindi and braiding of hair was what I looked out for in the summer morning. I remember sitting beside her with an opened mouth of unexplained curiosity while she carried out her routines with a smile and a sparkling glitter in her eye.

Several years passed by, as I moved one step at a time in life, moving from one place to other. The time being an unsteady component of one’s life, changed a lot of us with its flow and so did Aai. The weakening legs, wrinkly skin and the blatant face of forgetfulness, still remind me of Aai in her later years. She had lost her charismatic way of loving me for she had a hard time to place me in her blurry memories. But, I still hoped and saw the very love during my visit to her before leaving for USA. That afternoon, I remember seeing her sitting in the veranda all alone looking at the open portico for no one she expected. I approached her, sat next by her and with a smile kissed her on her cheeks giving back the same warmth and compassionate love that she had rendered me with as a kid. I knew it might be hard for her to remember and sing me 'ahe nila sahila' that she used to sing devoutly to make me sleep, but nevertheless I placed my head on her skinny lap and with a childly innocence asked her whether she remember what she used to sing to me as a kid. I saw the same glitter of her love in her eyes as she patted me and hummed to a sleep for the lost dreams of our life.

I love you and miss you Aai for all the beautiful things in life that you have always taught me.



September 25, 2009

abyss of forlornness

With closed blue eyes I leap
into the deep gorge of reality,
I fly, I glide then I fall deep
along the sweet gust of levity.

Lofting me to a new end of life
piercing pain shivers down my spine,
I impale on the rock of truth, not lie
with shattered dreams and it's chime.

All I had to see is clearly seen ,
all I had to hear is said and heed
but all that in life I longed to feel,
is taken heartlessly far away from me.

September 21, 2009

Bliss..

September 19, 2009

Fly1ng Und3r 1nfluenc3



Inseparable...

September 18, 2009

CAUTION

and behold.. my madness involving paint has started..

by the Current...

September 15, 2009

Lifeless Screech..

Fly, fly o' my restless soul
wrapped in a smile
snugged in a frown
fly high across the deep blue sky

'with a creased heart deep within
that beats with grief all it's life
swirling thoughts all the time
flow down it's vein slime by slime

Fly, fly o' my boundless soul
away from the ruthless self
glide in the lifeless night
with the slyly moon by your side.

August 28, 2009

Something Fishy...

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August 24, 2009

Mission Crapable... (Note: No cartoons were harmed or killed in the making of this post.)





August 19, 2009

Late Night Show.. (Contd.)

I sneered at the dog on the pavement. Stretching itself on the concrete, under the pleasant mid October night it had no worries or thoughts to be concerned of. And, here I'm stuck with a question so intricate that I feel the two lobes of my brain derailed from spine. But something in me did want to know what is it? With curiosity brimming up my thoughts, I kept asking myself of the things that fitted his question. It was like playing ping-pong. For every answer that propped up I contradicted it with a reason. The very drama that I was going through reminded me of an episode in Family Guy where Stewie said, "Let me guess, you picked out yet another colorful box with a crank that I'm expected to turn and turn until OOP! big shock, a jack pops out and you laugh and the kids laugh and the dog laughs and I die a little inside."

Night was taking it's toll on me. The old man had meanwhile taken a comfortable seat on the pavement and was staring at the night sky. He looked at me and realized the onset of tiredness and impatience in me. With seconds turning into fruitless minutes and scores of cigar buds lying dead at my feet, he got up with help of his stick and laid his wrinkled arm on my shoulder.
"It's memory."
"What !", I exclaimed. The invisible spirit that held me up till now vanished all of a sudden. I had the typical "What the ___ ?" expression painted on my face. I felt like a sand castle being suddenly washed away by the sea to nowhere. It was then I realized that I wasted my time with a fool who had no idea of what he is asking about.
With a tone of dejection I said, "memory ? You know what not only you have wasted my time by some crap but you are wasting yours too."
He kept looking at me with no remorse. I continued, "Why don't you go and sleep or spend some quality time with your family. No ! instead you search for some dunce like me who would fall into your heart scorching eyes and play this game with you."
After all the insults thrown down at him he mutters, " well what can I do babu?"
With a teary eye he explained," I lost my wife a few weeks back. My wife, was everything for me."
My hear sank to those words. I felt the blood inside my veins have frozen and pricking me from inside taunting of what a sick selfish species I'm.
"Day and night thoughts of her haunt me. She was the only family left for me. I have no kids to go to. I have no option but to live with the memory of hers to relish."
"And you want to know when it would end?",I asked like a lawyer finally understanding the case.
"Yes. How long can I torment myself."
I could now see the pain and anguish in his teary eyes. He continued to tell me the story of how he met his wife in their village and how she had supported him on each and every crossroads of his life. I had never understood the love one may have for someone who had been so close to them for such a long time.

With lips pressed hard between my teeth, I apologized to him. I felt bad for him. Though we live in a nation which has second largest population, but there are few shoulders to support a morally disowned old man. He gestured me in an affectionate way to leave. He didn't want me to be bothered any more.
"Babu, please forgive if I have wasted your time. But thank you for lending a part of soul to me."
"That's fine, Kaka. But with all due respect, wouldn't you want to know when life would end ?"
With a smile naturally borne on his lips he answered, "If I would have known that then on the first place I wouldn't have bothered you with the question."
With all humility I stubbed out my last cigar, patted him on his boney back, " You didn't !"

Late Night Show..

"When does it end ?"
"What ?"
"When does it end ? "
"What ends when ?", I ask with a deep etched frown on my face.
He doesn't mind the frown and with eyes like a kid eager to know he asks me again, "When does it end ?"
The day has been like any other day for me, till now. Starting from the train ride to my office, 10 hours of work and another train ride back to home, I have been right on my daily track of living yet another day. Minutes before, I got down at my stop and walked with hundreds of people towards the exit. The evening has been pleasant with cool breeze invigorating the damped body. I didn't mind to lit up and smoke away the fatigue which had build up after a whole day's toil. Had I smoked a few puffs, I see an old man few feet away from me. Wearing a white kurta and dhoti , he hunched towards me using his stick. For an instance I didn't mind him thinking he was just a beggar. He would ask for few rupees and I would calmly brush him away or walk myself to some place far. That would have been easy.

"Kaka", I mellowed
"What do you want ?"
"Babu, I don't want anything. Just tell me when does it end ?"
Things would have been way different if the day would have been bad for me. I would have surely ignored him and walked to home. But somehow I didn't. What compelled me to stay and face him was his eyes. They stared at me with no hostility or sadness.
"You mean my cigar."
"No. I know when it ends with all the tobacco burnt up."
"Night ?"
"No, I know that ends with the dawn."
"Grief ?", I surmised looking at his sombre face.
He smiled. I thought I struck gold with that guess.
"No, I'm old enough to know that happiness and sadness are my pair of crutches in this lame life."
"Desire ?"
"No."
"No?", I asked. "You have no explanation for that", I smilingly mocked him.
"Well babu that has a direct relation with it."
I look at my watch to sigh how late I'm. that will have a direct consequence on my morning schedule. I would struggle getting up early if I keep playing this game. Aha, struggle. But what has struggle to do with desire? We do struggle for something we desire. But that ends when the desire ends. Now when does desire ends? According to him desire ends when 'it' in his question ends. Somewhere deep in my consciousness I realized asking myself a question of my own, when does this madness end ?

Contd....

August 17, 2009

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