Sometimes

I don’t even fucking like the way I end up writing posts. It’s choking the life of grammar in broad day light! Have mercy on the poor soul for it has seen enough. It need not linger to witness  emotions strangled with soft woven metaphors. The resulting anecdotes that is nothing but a pain in the butt.

Being the protagonist I suffer from adulthood angst. Missing the performance are the neon lights. By the looks of it I might end up buying one if I don’t invest my hard earned money for a running shoe.

Next to me sits the philosophical maestro – The Fountainhead, “HOWARD ROARK laughed”. That’s pretty much what I’ve read after having owned this book for a year now.

Lately,books have given way to the applications of my phone. I enjoy them to the fullest. Better the half witted, self proclaimed modern Indian writers. Spare me. Better still I feel nothing.

“Nothing else matter”, my head starts with its uncontrollable nod  as the speakers keep blaring out the loud music as I matched it beat per beat with tootling bursts of melody.

Drinks, I mean are you for real? Like seriously? have I not anything else to do? Like sit and do nothing. I can do that, yeah why not! It’s fucking damn hot. Being on the burnt side of wheatish complexion does no good to my cause. The heat is one of the reason I end up turning myself into a night crawler.

As I sit and contemplate similar to the ones you get to see in movies, the track swiftly changes to “Dream On”. I’ve dreamed many a dreams. It only has stayed back as series of dreams and now as I look upon them it feels nightmarish. Did I not say I extensively use metaphors? I just used one.

A time long long ago during my school years whose memories fades away with each passing day I was asked a question, “How many of you prefers the inclusion of internet for benefit of social-networking”? Please note when I say social-network I need not mean Facebook or do we even a site who draws parallel to the one I mentioned? Nah!

I simply said No. But silly old me I ended up following the herd and not be the the lonesome lion who stands alone. Monkey did not have his bananas. Note to myself, listen to everyone but never do what you are told. Do it what you want. It’s always easy to slip but that damn hard to stand up again on slippery grounds.

In a sentence, I will keep my distance. Why? I want to.

It’s a faceless world, a voiceless where the best deal you cut is assumption. Words spoken, texts read. Best suited for a page in the diary but I have none. So here I am.

Rock all day, makes me feel good.- look it up on youtube.

I feel like running, not away but to run as it hurts my bones. My feet aches, the overpronation adds to the misery. I need a new pair of shoe. I might end up getting a new gear. Whatever makes me feel good.
Shopping is a good therapy. I want to shop today. I need a new something. What? I don’t know.

A vacation. A new book which I will feel like finishing as soon as I get hold of it. A decent breakfast. Preferably an all english breakfast, with sunny side up eggs, a strip of crispy bacon, sliced tomato and a glassful of orange juice in which I can smell the earth from where the fruit belongs. I sound spoilt. I’m loving the whole picture. I want to go and have this at Flurry’s.

Bangalore, you call yourself a metropolitan city? The police can you lend a helping hand in the day as as well night to crack down the Auto menace? Why only strike the two wheelers.

The place shuts itself down at 11 pm, the city is unsafe? Make it safe! I sound demanding yes I  do. I pay my taxes and its my right.

What good does this sudden burst of emotions plastered over cyberspace does to me? Nothing. It’s called as bitching, slandering.

Now I need to take a shower. Preferably I will opt for a hot one not because I need one because  I will end up having to take one. Thank you all the vehicles and their so motherfucking owners. The state, the people, me as well for making sure the trees go down and coming to think of the culture – are we not the Hindu’s (yes I’m one of them) who needs wood to burn ourselves?(Don’t play the cheeky card with me and mention electric furnace, the electricity comes from organic fuel). Just think how many will get burnt after we are done trying to catch upto first world.

All Bottled Up

and a packet of ice…

I listen closely to  the sound that the ice-cubes makes as I twirl my glass. For a moment I  thought I will break into words..

I answer a call, “what’s the scene?”

Now I walk alone to be somewhere.

Just some words that had to come out…

I just felt the need to write. It has been far too long, that a question hasn’t been answered nor do I believe it will surface this night.

Always metaphors, anecdotes, a faithful patron of double entendre now stand before the same question. It still in its entirety is unknown, call it cliché but that just me.

Time is such a thing, that I never really understood.

I believe I blog as this helps me in keeping the conversation one sided. My side.

Sympathy, empathy, running out of words here – never was good with words always preferred framing the sentences.

Too scared, to put myself out there.

Boastful at times, I wish I could have been different.

I play the same record time and again, and again.

At times it fills up so much that I loathe the hollowness, till it sails away with the next tide.

Dreams, Reality, Natural, Experience.

The wall must not fall. Must close my eyes.

Night sky

Wondering who left him hanging in the sky, he felt something on him and he reached for his pocket, pulling out a handful of rocks. With angst he threw them towards heaven. They shimmered and sparkled in his luminescence as he watched them settle into the night sky.

For centuries he heard a voice, “Whenever you’re a lost, look up and it will guide you”, tonight it was his own.

There was no denying the night sky is the universe’s most beautiful creation. At sunset, the Day’s might is subdued by the glamorous Night. Slowly fascinating its onlookers as it shrouds their lives in its infinite black cloak, full of ethereal enigma.

The moon romances you to looking upwards towards the night sky, you feel the breeze caressing you, the touch that allures you, like an illusion it compels you. The longer you stare, the more the beauty unfolds.  Many have fallen in love under its charm,  many for the first time felt those soft spots…

It is a startling sight, full of conflicts. Intimidating yet comforting. Full yet empty, harsh yet tender, with stars that has met a mad artists brush strokes yet surgically planted.

It’s enchanting.  You wish for it to whisper its secret to you, you wish for it to mirror, but it never will.

You wish the spell it cast’s never brings the twilight, but wordlessly it slips into the background to allow the yawning sun to rise, stretching its golden hues over the horizon of a brand new day.

It’s only promise to you? To return when the tired Day retires, for the Night to unveil its beauty,  yet again.

 

Lady In Pink

A journey is always  within you, you travel  to far places in the name of your quest while at times it brings you closer to people. Sometimes its hot, many a times it’s cold. Perhaps what you see is what you are only meant to see. You wait for the moment where  in itself  will paint a perfect picture. A picture is worth a thousand words, right? You flip through time pondering, reminiscing at times and suddenly you realize time just passes you by unnoticed,  unaltered. You just stand there looking at yourself and in the name of light entertainment you let out a smile, a grin or even shed a tear.

You feel a void bored into a mountain, the mountain of life which you slowly climb, the more you climb up, the more you get to see, your vision scopes through valleys, lakes, forests till you see something and for that very moment you begin to think how amazing it is without announcing it, and that is what it makes it very special. You feel how it relates to people on human level. You stand there, mesmerized by its beauty soaking in all you can, to develop that very moment, memory, feelings into that photograph which is embedded within you, all you need to do is just blink.

Sometimes it’s too late, sometimes it’s never meant to be, sometimes the answers aren’t that simple, life isn’t complicated, the simplicity of it, is.

Music they say is the heart of the soul, and the perfect melody is the beat of the heart.  Every beat has something special, some can feel some can’t. What you feel is what you can only know, or not.

It has been a cold night, the chill travels down my spine to my little fingers that acts as my chariot, my vision is limited by the fog that surrounds me, am out of breath but still treading on. Life they say is all about moving on and onwards I shall move.

All roads leads somewhere, and somewhere is where this road is headed. Nobody said it will be easy, but nobody said it will be this hard. A new path awaits, just a couple more paces, just a few more hours. A lot of baggage, it won’t hurt to put down some, carry less, take a bit of rest, breathe a little, look around and wait because you never know when it will simply fly past you and you wished what if?

 

 

PostSecret

“You’ve been tagged…”, that’s what flashed on my IM. I was like …”uhhh! what?? “

“You have been tagged silly! its time you put up a blog post sort of confession..silly old goose..”, though not the exact words of Delhizen but you get the idea right? c’mon go with me on this one..

Got one word for you – hard – yes its hard! to simply  lay down your safely tucked away  facts of life and flash it on the internet.. though I’ve no idea what points I’m going to write but whatever comes to my mind.. in order of no preference is getting on this page.. my page my words.. hmm…

I like standing tall – yeah I do! I can’t stand anyone taller than me..

I’m scared of horror movies.. there you go I’m a sissy

I don’t know how to ride a bicycle.. yeah yeah.. I know its embarrassing..I tried once though way early in my hostel days..though I forgot it had brakes on the handle..but hey nobody knows what happened to our neighbours fences!

I hate cigarettes, I can’t bloody stand them.. and during my ragging days it made me even more resolute.

I like the idea of ragging.. it makes a man out of you..for those who shall never know how it feels..I pity you.

I got opinions..yeah I can form one without even meeting anyone in person..

I like sharp noses, though sometimes cute pub one’s too.. umm..c’mon like you all don’t have any preferences? Mind you I’m talking about noses that are happily sitting pretty  on girls -don’t want any confusion here…

Speaking of girls .. ok this is really embarrassing..I prefered using girls toilet in my early school years.. c’mon you can’t blame me for that I was only a kid.. and besides it smelled so so good

I can’t swim..nopes I sure can’t..and besides I sink like a titanic – tried many times..

And don’t you dare call me fat! hehe..believe me you don’t wanna know what happens to few who ever do

Yeah there’s this one more thing — I don’t remember names – I’ll always have an alias for you – don’t you worry – you will get to hear it too..

Oh oh! man this is so therapeutic I can just go on and on.. hey come to think of it, its not so hard.. maybe some of  you who reads this post (if you aren’t a sissy) can do it on your blogs too..

This is my favourite – I’ll always have altercation with the girl I find cute, pick a cat-fight sort of a thing..though it does me no good.. but one way or another I’m on her mind.. rest assured

C’mon my very few readers give me something to read about you guys/gals too…

Writing to Communicate

A few weeks ago I got the urge to check my Orkut profile which is a conflict of interest as I’ve been bewitched by Facebook. But then again it’s a story for some other time.

As a result, I found myself in familiar grounds browsing through the various communities till I fumbled onto the one I was looking for. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the banter that makes it one of the liveliest bar the social plague of Orkut which has brought many of its contemporaries to its knees.  It felt like the fragrance that you never seem to forget.

Thus I started reading couple of the posts till the one that puzzled me the most. It had no wisdom, sensibility, lacking pure judgment but had its own perk of utter insanity!

I had once been told by one of my English teacher, “You’re not writing to impress, you’re writing to communicate“.

It was an off-hand comment made by him about the way we should be writing our assignment. I don’t think it occurred to anybody else how brilliant a thing it was to say; but evidently, I thought it was a great piece of advice and it has stuck with me.

It was such an obvious thing to say, “You’re writing to communicate”.

Well, duh!

But after reading that post I’ve found so many people have chiseled in their minds that they have to write in a certain way – To use a certain tone and scholarly words and follow certain formats in order to sound smart. But if it’s at the expense of the clarity of your message- what’s the point?  Who cares how smart you sound if nobody has any idea what you’re talking about.

Lately I’ve been falling off the wagon. And the only way to get back on it is to candidly characterize brevity.

My thinking is, unless someone is reading your work for pleasure, you don’t want to drown them in literary clichés thinking it will impress them into thinking what you’ve written is worth reading.  There’s a huge difference in the language used to write something for clarity, or technical writing and writing something for artistic expression, or more creative writing.  And too few people make this distinction.  I’m sure everybody has had experiences with these people.  People who make their writing so overly-fancy-sounding thinking it’s impressive, when in reality the reader is tilting their head and needs a second opinion to figure out exactly what they’re reading, feel free to share.

So, something to keep in mind or disregard:

You’re not writing to impress. You’re writing to communicate.

I

Unstable in balance,

is where I stood.

Unstable in thought,

is where I was.

Unstable in emotion,

is what I felt.

Unstable in belief,

is what drew those energies.

Attracted particular energies into my life

reflected in each other

not aware of that until now,

I understand why, cause and effect.

Change and self

The words “I“,  “me”,  “identity”,  and others like them are the most intriguing in the lexicon of human communication. They span across languages and civilizations, and the task of defining (let alone applying) such words has been attempted by billions upon billions of people. It requires a brutally and beautifully honest survey of everything that exists and how one exists within it all. Prejudices and arrogance mix with trauma and achievement. Growth and maturity coexist beside nostalgia and youthful exuberance. It all pressures the seams of existence to that point of almost-close-to-bursting-but-still-barely-holding that defines the human condition. Change occurs while one clings to a conception of “self“.  But does “self” change, too? Thoreau proclaimed that “Things do not change; we change,” but distinguishing between we and things is the eternal quest of humanity. Maybe, they are one in the same, or maybe it does not matter at all. But it is unavoidable, so we carry on. The pen still drags, the mouth still moves, the brain still ponders, and the projection continues upon a white infinite space that exists moment by moment. Or so, I think.

– Reflection –

Sixty seconds makes a minute, sixty of those minutes makes an hour. Get twenty-four of those and you have a day! Each second you see is the past. Each hour you seek is the future. The present you ask? It’s the Time that plods along not wasting a single second.

Ahead is the same old thing, she thought and as she did it happened. Today she stands still in my mind. For the first time since the birth of Time she was no longer progressing endlessly in that direction. She looked around herself.

There right behind her, was History. As usual he was looking backwards mulling over the things that had happened. He couldn’t help it. Whatever he did the witness described it differently. But then they would as they saw their own image of History and from their own singular perspectives.

Now was stunned. He could not believe Time was standing still. Certainly he had seen Time’s pace vary. Waiting for the end of his working day Time definitely was moving slow, yet on his annual holiday Now would see his week flash by, barely giving him the opportunity to recover. Now was becoming bored.

Future herself was waiting in the sidelines ready to make her appearance. She couldn’t make her move as the cue was just not coming. The same was true for her stand-in, Alternate-Future (and all their peers).

Time looked around deciding which way to go. “Maybe”, she thought, “maybe I should just stay here for while and just let The-Past catch up with me”

“Or I could move ahead at slightly different pace and let Things happen in his own way”

Looking to each side Time saw that she was not alone. There she saw Another-Time-Another-Place, doing her own thing.

That was it. Time decided that she had not been fair to all her colleagues just stopping like this. She must move on.

She decided to play her role. Enough of this reflection, and Time started marching off.