the crayon shades...

a sight so pretty..

2012-02-16T11:16:00.000-08:00

here are a few pictures i clicked..
no big expensive cameras, no big hidden talent, just a few experiences that made my heart overflow with emotions of happiness, of shock, of sorrow, of amusement. a few shades of the world, that added color to my life...

here are a few pictures i clicked during my trip to Jagannath Puri....a place i will never forget, a place where i met with a completely different kind of relationship that exists between the sea and the people...the sea feeds them, the sea kills them, the sea helps them survive, the sea traps them in a never ending chain of death...and the sea is their mother, and the sea is their enemy, and the sea is their god....

footsteps,dat walked,into the sea..

2012-02-16T11:03:00.000-08:00

the beach aint about the tourists,they come and go
it aint bout d beauty,its about the sorrow....

November 20, 2010

i saw a dead man die again...
i saw plight and i saw pain........
n i saw a fight,so long so vain..

i saw the fisherman's widow bow to the sea..
i saw d ignorant,the lucky ones, i saw me...
i saw whole lives,at the sea's mercy,
i met d father and the angry man,
that the mighty endless ocean can be

i saw a life,come 2 d shore of hopes and then go dead
i saw dem wipe the dissapointments off their forehead
and stare at the endless sea,hopes about the day ahead...

i cried one tear over their sea of sorrow..
i prayed that life will b generous tomorrow...

wen i walked to the beach,and i saw plight
i thot i was the only lucky one in sight

wen i walked away,wid a tear in my eye
they r d stronger ones,i realised with a sigh

a little bit of courage,from the widow i borrow...
i borrowed endurance,from the poverty's sorrow...

and i write on the sand,the truth of life
thr aint enuff prosperity,aint a worst strife

always less money,always worse pain..
and i saw a dead man die again...
and i saw struggle,so long, so vain....

the grey corridors....

2012-02-16T11:00:00.000-08:00

i learnt what love is from d pain of seperation i get everytime i look at the old pictures,hear the old stories,remember the spicy gossiping.i cherish every moment wen i get to love my skulmates,my teachers again. i even cherish the moments in which i can hate the annoying ones again,hate dem,still love them in a completely different way.
i cry endless tears,aching to catch and touch even one tiny moment from those times,bt the past cannot be touched.

this is to the grey corridors of my school,that colored my life,that gave shape and shine to jst another stone that i was.......

September 18, 2010

the grey corridors sing farewell to me
they paint a picture of who i used to be
a heart so simple,a soul so free
wen i return to my chilhood's temple,
the walls ask,who are you,and who was she
she whose laffer was natural,flowing freely

the farewell stripped me of that innocence so pure
the ignorace was bliss,now,knowledge i have to endure
the knowledge of a world not so true anymore
the knowledge of intentions,of which i cant be sure
the grey corridors sing farewell to me,
they paint a picture of who i used to be

the echoes of ur sounds,kill me a little more
i run in the dark,towards who i was before
i trip and i fall,i clutch empty dark,i am sore
i run from the empty today,i see no light,i see no door
the grey corridors sing farewell to me
they paint a picture of who i used to be

and then i see light,a little glittering stone
i found myself,in an unshaped rock that shone
it sang to me the song of a future so sweet
it told me the story of a life i will meet
the grey corridors sing farewell to me,
they paint a picture of who i am going to be......

A roadside tree

2012-02-16T10:52:00.000-08:00

yes, i got lazy, so here are a few poems i wrote in the last year that i did not post...
Friday, November 26, 2010
i wish i was a roadside tree
i would be tied to the ground and yet be free
i would sit and see the world passing by so fast
like i do now,so tired,but then at last
when i become the roadside tree
i would be tied to the ground and yet be free

i would smile at the birds,smile and say goodbye
my wings my leaves,i would fly so far so high
i would talk to the winds,and soothe a passerby
i would laugh at the world running,living a lie
i would yawn every morning,and not get ready to die
i wont let life go by,while i sip coffe and sigh

My legs are tied in chains that make me run
climb the success ladder under the scorching sun
but when i finally be the roadside tree
i would be the shade itself,i would be so free
i wish i could sit and write poems all day
be an old woman,with nothing useful to say,

i wish i could hold your hand,die and wake up again
i wish i could keep walking,be happy,be insane
i wish i could sleep and dream till eternity
watch the rat race,when i would be a roadside tree
i want to break into vapors,dissolve in the air
no wanting a life,no climbing the success stair

i want to block out the humming noise of melancholy
and be a temple's bell,so soothing, so holy
every autmn,i would die and melt like the snow
everyspring i would light up,like,diyas in a row
i want to be a stationary roadside tree
and i would be tied,but i know, then, i ll be free...

when i turned 18....

2011-01-16T05:53:00.000-08:00

When I turned 18 I died just a little bit
If I were a tragedy movie , I d be a super hit
because I died more and more as I grew
Something like this happens
Nobody told me, I guess no one knew
because as a kid , growing up was the dream
we used to dream holding the occasional icecream
about the unlimited junk that we could have
and the thought about living alone was my fav
but no one told me its more like a sad zombie life
its killing in the success fight, dying in everyday strife
its not the laughters and jokes anymore
its love so harsh and fake smiles so sore.
staying up all night is not a fun challenge we wanted to beat
its taking espresso shots, trying to get the world at my feet
Kicking jumping dreaming of a world at my feet
Failed to notice ,its already there, so happy so neat
when I dreamt of a home ,a life so free so independent
I never thought of the compromises made, sleepless nights spent
Dreaming of a home, my nights were so happily spent
But who thought it ll kill me to grow up and make the rent
I also dreamt of a college life so fun,great new ppl I d meet
Everything will b so “cool” who thought of the friction and heat

Living was what I had dreamt of when my life I rewind
Dying first with separation and then with compromises
And then dying with lonliness , Was the last thing on my mind
But I m an optimist, a pretty arrogant one
I ll sleep and dream till I see the morning sun
I ll again dream of a life so free so “cool”
Who cares if I m still a dreamer, still a fool
I ll get myself a nice guy so cute so hot
Let the compromises wait, let the world rot
I ll get myself more fun stuff to dream about
I will grab what I want, I ll laugh and shout

I am an optimist, a pretty arrogant one
I ll sleep and dream till I see the morning sun

same..old...miserably in love...

2011-01-16T05:50:00.000-08:00

to everyone who loves and hates love..and sometimes both at the same time...:)

so pretty and so so great..
no one in a hurry, and no one's late...
cupid is so kool,cupid's so clever....
everyone has been in love forever.....
singing songs and dreaming away...
cruhes and friends ,falling for life,everyday...
heartbreaks,pessimists,say what ever you may..
before we knw we are trapped in his wicked game...
the same old miserable,mesmerising love,
o dear cupid you are so mean,you are to blame...<3 <3

Kaash theher jaate

2011-01-16T05:49:00.000-08:00

Raet ki tarah mutthi se,
kaash vo lamhe naa fisal jaate
jalti aag mei mom ki tarah,
kaash hum jal jal naa pighal jaate
maa ki mamta ki tarah,
bacche ki maasoomiyat ki tarah
kaash vo jeevit pal theher jaate

aankhein jinko tarasti hai
dil jinke liye lalchaata hai
sagar chune ko dharti ko
jaise pal pal aata hai
us kal,un lamho ke mrit hone par bhi,
bawla mann unhi ko awaaz lagata hai

arthi unki jal jaati hai
man,unke phool chugne jaata hai
kuch raakhein, kuch aansoo leekar
ghar wapis laut aata hai

aisa chua mann ko mere
aas lagadi jeevan bhar
rota mann har subah jaage
ilzaam lagaoun kiske sar

a roadside tree

2010-11-26T08:40:00.000-08:00

i wish i was a roadside tree

i d b tied to the ground and yet be free

i d sit and c d world passing by so fast

like i do now,so tired,bt then at last

wen i become the roadside tree

i d b tied to d ground n yet b free

i d smile at the birds,smile and say gudbye

my wings my leaves,i d fly so far so high

i d talk 2 the winds,and soothe a passerby

i d laff at the world running,living a lie

i d yawn everymorning,and not get ready 2 die

i wont let life go by,while i sip coffe and sigh

the legs tied in chains that make me run

the success ladder under the scorching sun

but wen i finally be the roadside tree

i d b the shade itself,i d b so free

i wish i cud sit and write poems all day

be an old woman,wid nothing useful 2 say,

i wish i cud hold ur hand,die n wake up again

i wish i cud keep walking,be happy,be insane

i wish i cud sleep and dream till eternity

watch the rat race,wen i d b a roadside tree

i wanna break into vapours,dissolve in the air

no wanting a life,no climbing the success stair

i wanna block out the humming noise of melancholy

and b a temple's bell,so soothing, so holy

every autmn,i d die and melt like the snow

everyspring i d lightup,like,diyas in a row

i wanna be a stationary roadside tree

and i d b tied,bt i knw, then, i ll b free

footsteps,dat walked,into the sea..

2010-11-19T21:51:00.000-08:00

the beach aint about the tourists,they come and go

it aint bout d beauty,its about the sorrow....

i saw a dead man die again...

i saw plight and i saw pain........

n i saw a fight,so long so vain..

i saw the fisherman's widow bow to the sea..

i saw d ignorant,the lucky ones, i saw me...

i saw whole lives,at the sea's mercy,

i met d father and the angry man,

that the mighty endless ocean can be

i saw a life,come 2 d shore of hopes and then go dead

i saw dem wipe the dissapointments off their forehead

and stare at the endless sea,hopes about the day ahead.
..

i cried one tear over their sea of sorrow..

i prayed that life will b generous tomorro...

wen i walked to the beach,and i saw plight

i thot i was the only lucky one in sight

wen i walked away,wid a tear in my eye

they r d stronger ones,i realised wid a sigh

a little bit of courage,from the widow i borrow...

i borrowed endurance,from the poverty's sorrow...

and i write on the sand,the truth of life

thr aint enuff prosperity,aint a worst strife

always less money,always worse pain..

and i saw a dead man die again...

and i saw struggle,so long, so vain....

the grey corridors ............

2010-09-18T09:27:00.000-07:00

i learnt what love is from d pain of seperation i get everytime i look at the old pictures,hear the old stories,remember the spicy gossiping.i cherish every moment wen i get to love my skulmates,my teachers again. i even cherish the moments in which i can hate the annoying ones again,hate dem,still love them in a completely different way.

i cry endless tears,aching to catch and touch even one tiny moment from those times,bt the past cannot be touched.

this is to the grey corridors of my school,that coloured my life,that gave shape and shine to jst another stone that i was.......

the grey corridors sing farewell to me
they paint a picture of who i used 2 be
a heart so simple,a soul so free
wen i return to my chilhood's temple,
the walls ask,who are you,and who was she
she whose laffer was natural,flowing freely

the farewell stripped me of that innocence so pure
the ignorace was bliss,now,knowledge i have to endure
the knowledge of a world not so true anymore
the knowledge of intentions,of which i cant b sure
the grey corridors sing farewell to me,
they paint a picture of who i used 2 be

the echoes of ur sounds,kill me a little more
i run in the dark,towards who i was before
i trip and i fall,i clutch empty dark,i m sore
i run from the empty today,i c no light,i c no door
the grey corridors sing farewell to me
they paint a picture of who i used 2 be

and then i c light,a little glittering stone
i found myself,in a rock that shone
it sang to me the song of a future so sweet
it told me the story of a life i will meet
the grey corridors sing farewell to me,
they paint a picture of who i am going to be

My guiding star….

2010-04-22T10:33:00.000-07:00

I Closed my eyes n travelled far

i flew in the wind of my joy,

I float on d sea,like a drifting buoy,

I closed my eyes and saw a guiding star

I follow the star every moment,I run and fly

A thousand times I live,a thousand tyms I die

I learn,I teach, falling in and out of love n life

I cry,I laff,and sing the song of my endless strife.

Sometyms disillusioned,a sad song’s tear I shed

And the devils crowd my life,I shiver and I dread

At the thought that my angels,are gone and are far

Then I close my eyes,devils fleeing, I see my guiding star

Sometyms I forget sumtyms fear to dream,yet I dream on and on

Sumtyms i doubt the reality of my star,standing thr 4m dusk to dawn

Bt I live on the island of love,drink from the fountain of trust

I shud dream on,let loose,take risks,fall in love, I must

I lived a whole life,on a cloud in my eyes

I fall like a bride’s tear,dense,pure n soft

I m a leaf now letting,the wind overpower,aloft

I fell like a tear,with the wind I rise

Now I play,and I sing,and I run wild and free

Now I flow thru my life,like the wind thru a tree

I touch several lives,I carry the leaves of memories along

Life’s journey is my flute,everyday is my song

I closed my eyes,and I dreamt of a guiding star

I turned into a poem,and everything rhymed

I was a song ,lyrics and music,hummed and chimed

I opened my eyes,saw my love,my friend-my guiding star……..i guess,afterall,not all that far J

the dilemma

2010-03-18T06:45:00.000-07:00

d dilemma

Yesterday at 11:24pm

the world is beating in my heart,
I don’t know if its slow or fast,
it feels as if I’m not alone,
just want sumone to share an ice cream cone.

this is not the place for me,
the earth, the sun and the big banyan tree,
are all I wanted in my tiny life,
to get somewhere without a strife.

its not dat I don’t have friends,
just not sure if they will stay for all the bends,
I wanna go sumwhere where no man has gone before,
where no chains are needed, and pains are no more.

the world is beating in my heart,
I feel divided into 2 parts,
one inclines towards a happy end,
the other makes me go to a dead end.

the decision is mine, to choose the path,
but who is to blame if I do the wrong math,
I have to take a stand for good or bad,
every man has an unlucky past,
the winner is the one who lives even after the blast.

poem by my friend,sudhanshu tyagi....:)

the crossroad...

2010-03-17T08:21:00.000-07:00

This is for the awsome kolkata,the xavarians ,the loyola people.........the angels i came across so unexpectedly...

never in my life....

i ve found so much love in a stranger's hold

you work hard for a treasure like this,i was told

never looked for it,yet,i found pure lovely gold

staring into the air i see

a crossroad of endless laughters,that would be

an oasis in the memory world,for all of us,for you n me

and with the farewell song,i will know that we....

never in our life

will find,this stranger's attachment

so,unforgettable,so heavenly......

my angels....love you,miss you,wont leave you...:p

2010-03-03T08:07:00.000-08:00

for vampssss 4 sahil:

you are my angels in disguise

you are life,the soft tears in my eyes

i met you when i thought i needed no one

but now you are my light,my indespensible sun

the emptiness in my heart grows wild and dark

your absence grabs at my heart,with a pain so stark

for all d angels of my childhood:

people say you ll grow up n time will change things

but lets all be the same dumb old immature human beings

lets walk laughing wild,hand in hand again

put back all the changes,forget all the pain

for vampssss:

lets go back to eating lunch in the economics class

lets all do combined studies 4 d stupid project

and teach each other for a test,in which v never pass

lets go shouting with surprise on every stupid rumour

lets be simple,senseless,enthusiastic again,

laughing at life with a superb sense of humour

for sahil:

lets waste time talking endless crap on fone

till it gets late,while the food goes cold

and make faces at our mothers while they fuss and scold

my childhood mates:

lets cry and crib over stupid things around

lets jump and go wild at little joys we once found

lets all wear the wide eyed excited innocence again,

lets forget all we learnt,the grown up experiences,stupid and lame

lets burst crackers in school and then take a combined blame

my 12th C:

lets b capable of hating yet respecting our teachers at the same time

lets be the foolish jokes,lets be those innocent poems that dont rhyme

4 sahil:

lets sit and discuss our friend's love problems and affairs

unselfishly sincerely,like they were career,they were life

lets think of ways to flatter the girl you fell for on teachers day,my friend

lets do filmy things when the villians come around,and the drama wont end

lets go back to being new and alien to this world so vile

lets forget the heartbreaks,talk endlessly,love and smile

i saw you suffer i saw you learn..

i d seen you laugh,and i ve seen you burn

lets now laugh like crazy and hate the world again

time did bad things,lets rewind,kick its ass,now its our turn

for class 12th C:

lets play in substitue class,the false truths,the innocent dares

lets keep buffers of chalks in pockets for the big chalkfight

lets run around and in those corridors on those magical stairs

lets listen to our hearts,and not fuss about what's wrong what's right

for our everbusy watercooler:

lets go refilling our water bottles,with jokes and laughters so pure

lets chit chat standing on the watercooler,bunk ,lie and be so sure

fOr my school:

Lets go back walking to my little heaven out there

lets go back to my temple,the home of my heart

not worrying bout being noone,laughing bout going nowhere

lets stick together,forget growing up,never grow apart,

without you my angels,i m a deadend,clueless,where to restart..

i stand here dreaming a dream so unreal,yet so pure

i stand here clutching at the sands of time,and i m sure

i ll not leave this sea of light,let you go nomore

you are my angels in disguise

you are life,the soft stars of tears safe,unshed in my eyes.......

ballad of the night

2009-12-19T11:01:00.000-08:00

the night comes,she yawns,her moist eyes absorbing the softness of the dark,and her heart reflecting the silence.
she now hears a music so different,the music of the dark,a sad tune with a world of a meaning.the soft song of the night,filled with dreams-sweet,nurturing and broken,makes her want to cry.
but she fears,she fears that the loudness of the tears might disrupt the music,might make the darkness harsh.
eyes still wet,she smiles at the peace of these unshed tears.she smiles at the secret ballad in her heart,she smiles at the night.and the music of silence intoxicates her with a satisfying,humbling sadness.
she arrogantly tries to push it aside,but the peace of sadness holds her tight,capturing her again,freeing her of all personas,making her real.
but the tear would nt fall,for it would kill the rythm of the night.the tear would nt fall,because,she does nt have an explaination for it.

she blinks,looks around,looks inside herself,smiles,admiring the music,when noone talks,and noone laughs,and then she sighs,saying goodbye to the ballad of the silent night,sleeping,hoping to meet with her song again,so that she can meet herself,know herself.
again,some other silent night.

kaash kal,kal na hota......

2009-11-15T10:35:00.000-08:00

kaash mera vo kal,kal naa hota,

kaash vo sundar kal itna mritt,itna achall naa hota,

aaanshoo jaisi sachhi,vo yaad,chalak gayi aankho se,

choot gaye jo mutthi se,vo reet ke daane kyu bandh ke naa rahe,

kyu simat gayi hai hassi,aankhon mein baithi yaadon mein

jab jhaanke band khidki se,baarish jaane ke baad

sookhi khamoshi,bhigoti kyu hai,kar akhon ki khidki se aansu aazaad

uss kal ke sundar shor ko dhoondte kyu hai har-damm ye kaan

aaj chaaro oor,hai sannate-si-hulchul,gum kahi,vo chota sa armaan

beebass sach ke haath,dil ko dukhti hai,aaj ke sapne mein,uss sundar kal ki aas

lahu-luhaan kar jaati hai,kaanto bhare iss reegistaan mein,beete kal ki adhoori pyaas

kal ki baansuri ka vo geet,kaash,goonj banke,hawa ke saath na khota

kaash mera vo kal,kal na hota.

.................

I DREAM HAPPY NIGHTMARES

2009-10-24T12:16:00.000-07:00

i smile in my sleep
i wake up, i weep

the happy dream was a nightmare
exposed my fantasies,my secret hopes bare
the fantasy life,flower beds,soulmates and wind chimes
as bitter as an olive,sour as the lime
i sleep,i smile
wake up,and wonder sadly for a while
before the day wakes me to reality,knocking me down
my happy dream was a nightmare
raising my hopes making me guilty
guilty for dreaming too much
guilty for smiling as such
at the happy nightmare
i wake up and stare
at the dead wind in my face
i call the happy fantasy a nightmare and brace
myself for another long barefoot walk
walk through life,shortening dying like the brittle chalk
i smile in my sleep
luxurious expectations against the reality cheap
i dream happy nightmares
though no sweat no fear
the happy dreams are nightmares,i swear
the ghosts and monsters vanish with ssleep
but my happy nightmares stay and creep
into my sleepless night,my numb day

the happy nightmares force me to dream on
dream on and on till,i wake up and the mirage is gone
and i laugh at the happy fantasy dream at night
and say,i just dream happy nightmares
unreal,bold and hurtfully bright

i smile when i sleep
i wake up and i weep.

award,me too......

2009-09-25T10:10:00.000-07:00

hiee,this is something really cool.something that might fasten and make more interesting,my blogging activities?suzoy's blog's totally inspiring,so lively,so full of energy,so interesting,and so is this award thing.i m quiet dumb,but i think, i ve got to pass on the award to some blog that i find really interesting?
neither a regular,active blogger,nor,a very sensible or impressive writer,i m totallllllyyyy flattered with this award thing.and i totally thank Zoy for it.

now...about passing the award?i ve got to first mention the rules?
yeah,that is nice.

Rules for the award :
- List five current obsessions.
- Pass the award on to your favorite and more fabulous blogs.
- On your post of receiving this award, make sure you include the person that gave you the award and link it back to them.
- When you post your winners, make sure you link them as well.
- Don’t forget to let your winners know they won an award from you by leaving a comment on their blog.
OKI THIS IS THE MOST INTERESTING PART OF IT...........since,even though,i m obsessed with something or the other mostly,i never thought of listing them down........

My Five Current Obsessions:
1.sahil,doc,swati
call it a permenant obsession!!i am totally addicted to these three people.my college friends don't understand this amazing obsession though but,these three names are permenantly on my mind all the time like the yellow of the sun,and the cool of the water,3 names stay with me day and night. muaaaah muaaaaaah luv u guys! (oh no i am controlling the obsession,but i still love them 3 guys with the same intensity;))

2.painting walls,cleaning up the house
DIWALI time is my favourite time of the year.the world looks so overwhelmingly beautiful in the yellow warm glow of diyas,and the glow is nt bright enough to bring to light the dark problems bothering me;).
so i ignore the stupid troubles,and bathe cheerfully in the dust from cleaning up the house and the paint too.it brings me close to my family every years,when we 6 people are busy most of the year.
and it's the time of the year when i get to talk "talk" to the walls,cupboards,shelves,showpieces..reminding myself of the old days,everything changed but those walls n cupboardsAND EVERY YEAR I dig out some old piece of memory,a birthday card,or a little old diary,reminding me of my old lovely life.i clean up the house with the enthusiasm of a little girl,and with the hardwork of a farmer;)

3.old old songs,legendarrrryyyy:
got this love of some particular kind of songs from my dad,ranging from lata,kishor g,mukesh.........(these are the names i remember;))....some are really well known songs that touch lives,change them,inspire souls.some of these songs tickle you with funny,nice,romantic sensations,some get you all philosophical about life and love and what not.
thanks to my dad...i now have a hugee collection of some well known,and some "not so much heard" oldies...AND THEY ARE AMAZINGG.

4.halwa
my dadi tells me,old times,halwa used to serve the purpose that cake serves today.so,i thought i would impress my dadi a little,and learn a bit of halwa making,wow,IT IS SO SIMPLE TO MAKE,though till now i made it just 3 times,i am planning to wake up early and make halwa on this saturday,because my tauu g is turning 50 YAY!!...dadi is gonna be pleased,so m i...i m an awsummm cook;).....but i still prefer truffle cake over halwa,if i m not the cook khekhekhe

5.words?
i could nt think of any other obsessions so i stole this one from suzoy?is that acceptable?i m not very good with words,but i like to connect things,and see how little things in life teach us bigger lessons,a child's play can ,for instance,sing a whole legend of a lover's life?dreaming,connecting,linking,metaphorising(metaphor-verb,khekhekhe)...........i like to do it very much,even though it is seldom sensible or understandable?

okay,now the obsessions listed,next i ve to pass on the award by Zoy ?

i pass it on to:

1.pranshu
this girl from my school,we were nt never friends or anything,just aquaintances,highly interesting,intellectual,deep and amazing posts.she has always been this awsum,intelligent and intellectual;)
http://powerpuffpranshu.blogspot.com/

2. one of my friends nikhil bhoj,from tinacit's funny,with some reallly interesting discriptions of some things,good story telling too,and some funny pics.it's not huge,or regularly updated,but,fun to go though.http://nikhilbhoj.blogspot.com/
IS THAT WHAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO DO ZOY?thnk u soo much..:)

sometimes,i paint the walls,and othertimes..........

2009-09-21T06:11:00.001-07:00

hieeee,i just had an awsum dirty,tiring experience,getting bored on the weekend,not wanting to go out with friends,i decided i 'd do some crazy experiments.to my loving poor mother's fears,i decided "mighty manu is gonna paint the walls of her room on her own"...as if i ve ever finished even cleaning my own book shelf?

OH BUT I M PROUD i completed the work,and had an awsum day with..........pepsi music and my old ignored friends,my walls;)................

i painted the walls in my room today,smelling them for the first time,i realised that they dispel a secret unnoticed fragnance of a permenant companionship apart from the smell of cement or paint.

i started with mixing paint in the bucket,the colour of life,the colour of universatility that stays with us,though the shades of change,a dirty tinge to dark to bright to soft.
the smell of paint filled the room,flooding it.even though my allergy trouble did cause the constriction in the wind pipe,and the sneezes i could nt stop counting(khekhekhe) i still had an amazing experience looking so closely at those walls that have seen me growing from a leaky little baby to a skinny young girl,and i was still sneezing,nose runny.(khekhekhe)

and i had a little talk with them,those walls,they told me how our common parents built us both,brick by brick.

the walls were as chirupy as i was that particular day,like some friends who meet after ages,we were so busy,looking at the past,painting a fresh layer of future on it.

growing up,some walls had been erected,unconciously,between me and these walls of my childhood room?i hardly noticed them.
inside the room,these walls have watched me,changing,growing,learning,busily talking to friends,fighting,crying secretly,worrying,blushing infront of the mirror,fussing.outside the room,these walls have watched the world changing,the days and night's passing,the rains and the summers and the winters.
like my elder siblings,these walls have grown,with experience,seeing things.
one little nail in the wall reminds me of that big framed photograph it used to hold,a photo of a little girl. i wonder where that is now?
another nail tells me about this old old calender it used to carry,the calander with pictures of changing seasons,seasons changing,as the months and the years moved.
a corner calls me towards it and complains,tells me at length,about how i ignored it,as i chose my own centers in life.i apologised,rolled a layer of paint over it,smiled,i realise,it's the corners that join two walls and make a room?
i moved ahead,shifting the high stool,climbing on it,i meet the higher part of the walls,clean,untouched,they are less talketive,they don't say much,just a silent assurance that they have been watching,the higher they are,the more wholesome side of me they see.i thank them for watching me over,observing.
the lower walls are too talketive,would nt stop chatting,a scratch of some hurried exit,a mark of some food,in a food fight from old days,oil paint.
the echoes of laughter from a pop corn fight that left an oily patch on the wall.the little scolding of the little notorious cousin,wanting to colour the walls with his own ideas.a little mark of nailpaint,sang the song of growing up,my first try at getting girlie.a little scratch sits quietly,angrily reminding me of how i attacked the walls,throwing a cellphone at it,as if trying to get them walls of restrictions down.i now realise,those walls never restricted me,they are my siblings,they share my anger,my dissapointments,my little secrets,my cheerful laughters,they share my life.
you must be wondering how dirty my walls are?no ,they are just talketive,too talketive,like me,after all they live with me;)

i talked to the walls,memorising all the past,as i went on adding a new layer of paint to it.
as i wind up the work,putting the bucket of leftover paint aside,i look at myself,i see the colour of the walls over me,the light paint,on my limbs,my shirt,my face,my specs,my hair,then,i turn to look at the walls,i see myself there too,a bit of past,and new layers of future,as if the walls and me are twins,sister's since birth,growing up together.

sometimes,i paint the walls,and othertimes,it's the walls that paint me,paint my life..............

SO GUYS,moral of the story(or whatever it was?)is :paint the walls of your room,itz fun;)

staring deep into the night...

2009-09-15T04:22:00.000-07:00

and we keep seeking,
staring into the night

seeking a hand
a hand of unconditional light

a light of love
seeking a companion in sight

fallen and bruised,with unexplained plight
defeated in the real fake love's fight

we go on seeking still
staring deep into the night

............................

and the night stays

2009-08-31T09:54:00.000-07:00

like an ugly drawf,holding me by my index finger,the night walks with me,invisible during the day,but present there all the same.it watches me,and makes sure that the brightness does nt infect me,makes sure that the visit of the day is not too long.the ugly drawf has insecurities too,so it makes sure i dont get strong enough to be able to jerk off his hold on my finger.so,the ugly drawf stays,looking at me stubbornly,and i look back at it too,confused,i don t know since when has this drawf been with me?
i look back into the past,to check for how long this drawf has been holding my finger,i don t kno it'z all hazy.i look back,and the drawf smiles,maliciously,at being sucessful,sucessful in forcing me to look back,looking back synonymous to some kind of regret.
the drawf of the night is victorious again,i m looking back,but i realise,nothing in the past is real or tangible anymore,it is like the dream that cannot be touched,cannot be grabbed.
i choke with an unfamiliar desperation,having a physical effect,almost,like literal choking.and then i feel like this drawf is juzt imaginary,a child of my pessimism and maybe that it why it is so invisible and ununderstandable to the rest of the world.yes for sure,the drawf of night is not real,just like a bad dream,that is why no one else sees it.but then his hold is so consistent,like a loyal friend,always with me,always looking at me,with love,unwanted love and attachment.
i grow desperate,i want to jerk this drawf off,i ask people,i ask people to tell me what i am,seeking light,seeking hope,trying to identify myself.
i ask people who i was,hoping that the person i was was real,without the drawf of night.but people don t seem to be familiar to the language i am using,they don t understand what i am asking.
so i go on fighting with the chains of present,there hold tightening with every protest i make.

i go on staring confusedly at the drawf of the night,wondering for how long has it been with me,like the most loyal friend,like my own image,my own reflection,the drawf of the night.

hellooooo all.....aajkal.....

2009-08-19T10:23:00.000-07:00

HIE,long time,too many useless,weird posts,life has changed a great deal since the creation of this blog
*sigh*
a lot of fun things happening,but the low feeling never seems to leave me,as if i ve been orphaned,the school was MINE,the college is nt motherly,it's like a harsh boss,school was like family.i miss the old times

anyway,other than that,i miss swati.but forget her,things happen,i can t blame anything.

sahil,dude you are awsum,miss you too sometimes,but so kool that i still get to talk to you often enough.you totally rock,your college started too,dude,it's gonna be fun,and the low feeling,it's gonna go too,perhaps we all are just learning,maybe it's a completely normal phase;)...i feel like a poor kid who does nt know anything,nobody told us about the college being so unkool sometimes?and boi,i ve started to like your gurl better..our miss freshers,i wonder!! ;)gimme a high five on dat.......khekhekhe.......congrattts pranshu gurl,you are awsum too,multi talented and cute

and doc,got aazaadi recently,mbbs xams done with,our free bird iz enjoying,taking walks,his running shoes bearing it all ,khekhekhe.and our doc is getting haircuts too;).you are awsum too doc,love to talk to you,infact totally addicted to talking to you,that's quiet crazy though.and did you have the low feeling too when you started college?wot am i writing? well you have fun doc,you got a month of total freedom abhi;)MISS YOU TOO DOC:)

swati is being someone else completely...i dun know what to say about her. hope she is awsum too.

COLLEGEit's a lottttt of funa lotttttt of strugglea lottttt of crazinessa lottttttt of tashan maaringa lotttttttt of competitiona lottttttt of stylea lottt of freedom
but i tell you,if i get to go back to ANY class in school,i d go back anydayreminds me of some lines from bryan adams',summer of 69.

my brother,COMPLETELY STRESSED OUT...poor little devil,i hate to see him in 10th...so much work....patani kya ainwei chote baccho ko pareshaan karte hai.:( i wish i could take all his exams for him
stylish hogaya hai lekin ladkaa;)

UNCLE ka operation hua,hope he is awsum and healthy soon...mummy papa awsum too as usual.......DEY CAN T AS USUAL STOP WORRYING,,in school it was the studies,NOW IT'S the kind of exposure i might get in college,bad ppl bad influence?...i m trying to be as sensible as possible though ...

dadi dada g as USUAL ARE THE AWSUMMEST PEOPLE ON EARTH FOR ME,dunno where would i be without them heroes of my life.

tinac as usual,a lot of bakwaas,but itz such a nice outlet for all the weird outbursts,unusually,happening to me.missing the old members,but a lot of them still active.tinac's a kool place 2 b;)

ACCORDING TO college kids(as if they behave like kids) since i m 18 i must also have some sort of description for my love life too;)...my past 2 crushes are not in touch ,poor me.....the last ex crush guy got single though ..poor him...but i don t feel like doing any line maaroooing him..too busy...khekhekhe.other than this,i prefer not having much to do with the relationship thingy..too much time,money energy wasted ,no returns, look i m really learning business

WILL post about my freshers party soon,and some photos too perhaps of my AWSUMM COLLEGE WID AWSUMM GUYS AND GURLS..........they are total fun to hangout with...........hope i find some nice people to be friends with soon.

THE NEWS OF THE MONTH IS"i m getting gurlie finally,doc thinks i found shahid hot for a change bcuz i m growing up?did he mean to say that when i was praising kaminey?"(but i tell you,my eyes were halfway outta d sockets when he was playing the guitar infront of the mirror in the muvi)i got waxed too M I SUPPOSED TO TELLL DAT?(i was nt much of a hairy bear anyway)keeping hair untied is nt DAT bad anymore...not gettin any prettier though.....

AND YEA I M GONNA GET INTO THE HABBIT OF SWEARING IF I DON'T AVOID DAT beep beep SAGAR...........shameless guy!!itti gaalis deta hai.....wot's so kool about swearing? "kaminey" mein bhi itti gaaliyaan khekhekhe

chalo,i don t know how to make blogs interestingBUT ON SAHIL'S advise i decided to start talking about what all is happening in my life too.....
..thnx sahil
thnx all THE PEOPLE AGAIN,even those i hate for affecting my life,and making it what it is.
haf fun all c ya

i must.....

2009-08-15T15:08:00.000-07:00

i feel like a little kid,feel like complaining,but realise suddenly,the limits around me,that would'nt let me.i must'nt get greedy,kill the hen in greed of all d golden eggs,i must nt let myself get carried away,and i must nt ask for more than what my god chooses to bless me with.i must push myself,force myself to stay awake,and not let the dreams,demands,desires infect and kill my reality to which my god adds beauty,and i must nt ask for anymore beauty than what he has chosen to shower me with as my destiny.i have to smile and quietly accept,gratefully too,whatever little monsoon of happiness he showers over me.whatever little corner he chooses for me,whatever little amount of attention he thinks i m worthy of.i must drink from the river of his kindness and not complain in case the river of love chooses to change it's course and quench my thirst nomore.i must not disturb my mighty lord with tiny unecessary complaints,bothersome details,useless worries.i surely must'nt ask for anymore than what i am being given.the pleasure of his dreams,the right to worship him is more than what my destiny,my life and luck has for me.

i can though feel maliciously happy that my god though does nt give me the right to complain,cannot steal my songs that carry the smell of his effortless liveliness and the warmth of his mesmerising maturity.his scoldings,tickle my ears,and his laughter,like the bell in the temple capture me,i am made lucky,with his naughty sarcasm,like the tiny drops falling on my face,slapping me lovengly.i smile at memories of all that i was permitted to have,cherishing them,keeping the memories safely in my strong hold,like the grasp of a little kid over his beloved toy.

the warm blanket of his presence,somewhere,someplace,keeps me dreaming,sound asleep,no hurry to wake up,i must not complain,i must go on sleeping,i must go on cherishing...

Things i' ll never say

2009-08-15T12:27:00.000-07:00

the songs have started owning faces,unlike earlier,when they were faceless waves in the plane air.aah! and yes,the air too,has turned into a blanket,warm,pink with love,enveloping me,forcing me to close my eyes to anything else and pushing me to drown in the soft storm caused by the torrent of alien feelings somewhere in my eyes.
i have the butterflies fluttering inside my belly,teasing me like naughty girlfriends,fluttering with awareness,of my little secret that sits and smiles from the inside of my tiny heart.
smiling,i fail to locate a reason,growing silent suddenly,i wonder where is the random flow of thoughts heading?
the fingers have suddenly fallen in love with my hair,entwining themselves,curling,moving randomly.
some hair going astray,disturbing my eyes,are'nt a disturbance anymore,causing a tiny blush on the cheeks and a smile that is made to supress,but with a considerable faliure,giving it a shy touch.
and the eyes,they carry hopes,as heavy as lead,making my dreams as light as the fragrance of fresh dew on a flower.
all the songs,they are taking the shape of meaningful poems,like the river,with it's softening gentle touch,the songs coming true,coming alive,the songs become the wind,touching me,causing a blooming of dreams,making me blush at my own thoughts.
and the touch of things,a tangible current has started tickle me instead of the unnoticable colourless touch earlier.
the air,the blanket covers me in a way,yet exposes me to something else,a desirable dependence.
like the mesmerised kids running after pied piper's flute,i run in the yellow field of changes breathing in the pollens of love but chasing what?
the little words in my head,like tiny fireflies,light up my eyes with dreams,but these fireflies like to stay and shine in the darkness inside,the bright busy world outside cannot identify it's glow,so ,fearful,they,the fireflies choose to do their pretty dance of love confined withing the walls of silence,never appearing,never showing.
so the faces of my songs smile and tease me secretly,inside my eyes,the blanket of love captures me in an invisible omnipresent hold,the naughty butterflies flutter inside,making me concious of the outer sensations,leading to a shy,supressed,yet silently visible smile on the face that is beautiful suddenly with a pink warmth.
and now i sleep,fantasies suddenly wide awake,i dream away the night,wispering,humming,singing,things i 'll never really say ;)

the poem of continuity

2009-07-13T08:08:00.000-07:00

Already late for my class,and struggling with too many daily necessaties,trying to hold them all in my extraordinarily tiny palms,making them look smaller still,the smartcard,mobile phone constantly ringing,the mp3 player,the newspaper,the wallet,the contents of my hands,getting spilt,falling off..these little things make the basic necessaties of the mordern life in 2009.and they say gadgets have made our lives easy!still struggling,

trying to ensure everything stays in my hands,i notice this neighbour of mine,unwashed,no bindi no regular makeup,in a nightgown, bending on her child combing n re-combing his already combed hair,as if they were going to stay the same all day long.

she was saying in a very serious tone to her child "this time don t forget the spelling of continuity,you learnt it by heart,right?..sing it to me?" and the child stares at his mother sweetly..and the mother begins "c-o-n...and the child joins her -t-i-n-u-i-t-y" this poem of continuity goes on between them,the mother cheering the child,encouraging him,the child jumping and smiling after being able to sucessfully learn continuity,or i d say "spell" it.

i wonder by what class in his school will he be able to understand continuity, but,with the resources he has,perhaps never,he might never feel the need to understand the word.

hurridly discarding the thought,i look for a rikshaw,i see none.i start to walk,hoping to get a rikshaw from the main crossing.while walking i am still struggling with the stuff in my hands,i manage to put the phone in my jeans pocket,the smart card too properly put,i relax a bit.i hold the newspaper with my chin and my neck and work on getting some change out of my wallet for the rikshaw.now all things put,i m relaxed,still walking,i look back at the mother-child smiling,they are perhaps still struck up on their poem of continuity.i try spelling it too,the word that means life,that means movement,means a promise of survival.c-o-n-t....there! i see a rikshaw,a malnourished rikshawwaala,in days when girls spend thousands on sunblocks to keep there skin glowing,he pulls a rikshaw to keep his skin on his body at least,forget the glow.i walk towards him,signalling that i need a rikshaw,while walking towards it i go back to trying and spelling the word,but t-i.....it's like the word has vanished from my mind,it must be the lack of time,occupying my mind.

i put the poem of continuity off for the time being,and climb the rikshaw.oh! and i forgot to mention the rubberband in my hand as one of the other belongings i was trying to hold.sitting in the rikshaw i get to work on my hair,i get them together with my fingers n tie them together using the band.this band that brings together my hair clearing my face of any disturbance is missing from this woman's life on the footpath.the band that cleans up the chaos in life,the woman's life,is untied,uncontrolled,unsecure.

i dont feel really sypmathic or sorry for them.i just feel confused,the word continuity comes back to me.i try spelling it,and i wonder,if she is able to spell it.i m sure she can write a book on the meaning of the word if she knew writing language,where i,a school graduate,can merely spell it.c-o-n-t-i.....and my face has the surprised look,where is the poem of continuity?

i decide not to notice all the poor people on the road,they are perhaps the culprits,distorting my spelling of continuity.the whole world accuses them of a lot of things,they would nt mind a harmless girl,late for her class accusing them of another little bad thing?.yes,so they distort the meaning of continuity.

continuity is such a positive word,beautiful like the mother-child interaction at the bus stop.the untied state of the woman's life,the hunger puoring from the rikshawwalla's skin,they just make the word look so evil. continuity is a boon,it is a beautiful thing,like the wind,the clouds,the flowing water,the rain,the life inside the ocean's womb.continuity is nt the redness in the rikshaw wala's eyes,it is nt the wails and cries of the woman on the footpath,they don't sing the poem,the wails and pleadings are too disgusting,too dark to be able to sing the poem of continuity.continuity is the smile on the face of a child who gets off the school bus saying bbye to his friends,looking forward to a tomorrow filled with more school jokes and lessons.continuity is the promise of a father to his son,the promise of a gift if he performs.it is the rain drop that falls on a pretty face,brings a smile,then falls on the ground,makes a puddle,gets evaporated to become rain again.

continuity is the wind that brings smells of a far off future.continuity is not the mist on cold dilli roads that spread all over,diffusing into the poor people's life infecting them with unclarity,unsurity and darkness.

i m brought back to the world with a viberation of the phone,the phone and the red signal.phone ringing,urging me to hurry up,the signal standing in a challenging fashion like a beast,infront of me,laughing at me,at my delay,stopping me,killing the continuity of my journey to education.no,that's exaggeration.

one side,the red signal stands like a "beast of stagnation of traffic",other side it serves as "the angel of continuity" for the "persuers of survival",begging and selling stuff there.

i smile at the irony inspite of the delay,and look at the number of seconds left before a green signal,thanking god that there is an indicator,unlike the kids and the beggars,they have no indicators,none at all,to tell them the time left. to tell them how much time is left before they could be careless as to the definition of continuity,like people sitting in the cars who don t have to bother bout the poem of continuity,or at least they don t fail at it.

3-2-1..green....and the rikhsawwalla starts again to pull the weight of continuity.the destination is reached,the girl gets down the rikshaw steps down,pays a tiny sum of money,says thank you and hurries towards the building.

the rikshaw waala smiles,looks at the crumpled ten rupees note,straightens it,no need to try and spell continuity anymore,i look at his eyes,that see the ten rupees note lovingly,THERE,I SEE REAL AND EVIDENT AND PURE AND TRUE"THE POEM OF CONTINUITY"no need to look any furthur.

the bride of the rain

2009-07-10T05:47:00.000-07:00

the girl makes a wish to each falling star,the tiny stars of volatility falling first from the sky and then hitting the leaves ,falling again into the puddle.millions of these starts come down to embrace the earth,surround it,save it from the burning sun.they come down to make promises to the girl in the window.she discards all practical unnecessary considerations and lets herself get drenched and drunk with fairytales.

she sits and looks outside,so immersed that you can be almost sure that she sees her disneyland there,moving,tangible.she can see her story of life,not the real one,the one that has been brought together in parts,contributions made into this tiny puddle by different people,different events,different tiny drops of dreams.yes,she dreams,that is to say in simple unartistic words.but it's not dreaming,i'd call it.she is telling a story ,a secret story of her life,or rather, writing it,writing it in her heart.

the smell of freshly wet mud adds kesar like touch to her unshared,private world.the noise of thunder gives the chilly,reviving,continuing movement to the heart of the dream life-that sits in her eyes waiting to come out,fall,touch the ground,mix with the soil and become real.

what the rain does to the girl in the window is like decorating the bride.mother,with the experience,omnipresence,soft touch of the wind,flows,surrounds her daughter,giving her a delicate feminine,sensitive touch.the girl-friends with the noisy,chirrupy pitter patter of the raindrops,tickle the bride's senses,brightening her,giving her and excited beauty.and finally the thunder,the firm and masculine might of a father,smiles at his child,bids her a farewell,wishes her happiness in that flash of light and at the same time with the thunder,warns,readies her to face things ahead.
i am wandering alright.these drops get me drunk.they don't have to be consumed like the alcohol to intoxicate you.they are fast and strong enough to force you to elope from reality just by touching you.you get wet on the outside,but you are actually gettin drenched with the alcohol of dreams inside because of this rain.

so,back to the girl,she dreams,twinkling eyes.the beautiful bride of her dream life is made more beautiful with each rain and will go on getting more and more breathtakingly charming untill the time her private unshared world is ready to step out of her eyes in the form of the farewell tear and touch the ground of soft real soil.she ll ,at that time,be a queen,running free,depending on something on someone which actually will give her an independence in disguise of a mutual dependence.she ll do what she dreams of,sitting in the window,on the rainy days.she ll smile,letting the words fall from her mouth like the rain creating a song,like the song the raindrops sing while falling on the earth.

but for now,the stars have ceased to fall.she sat there wishing with full faith all the time while the stars fell,now,the land's drying,the wind needs rest,the puddle sits still waiting to be nourished by the next rain.

till then the girl packs her "still in the making"dream back in her eyes,smiles,sighs happily taking in the good warm smells and gets to work,afterall falling stars can only do the dreaming.the drops of rain help dream,the drops of sweat help it to get real.

the world gets real not with the stars of the sky,but with the ones on your brow-the stars of hardwork

our dream world is unconciously turning real while these stars of toil and labour appear on us,winking and smiling at the little star of dreams in the girl's eyes.and so, she gets to work till the next rainfall.

Mirage in the rain

2009-06-29T07:24:00.000-07:00

yes,the rain drops talk.they are little naughty creatures,not naughty, that's not the word to describe their nasty,mean intentions.they are like the innocent eyes of the devil who has taken shelter in a simple,beautiful,trustworthy face.just like the ravana taking the saint's disguise.like the colourful attractive extreamly dangerous frogs out there in those amazon forests we hear about.

enough examples given to explain the nature of these drops,i am sounding almost desperate to warn you so that,you don t become another victim of the lovely,cool,tiny drops that team up,form the rain and fall on you like a spell from the heaven(that's what YOU think,the heaven does nt accept them that's why they fall,they are nt gifts from the heaven,they are denounced !).

because you are so much under the spell of these vicious tiny drops,you are making an angry face and questioning my statements?yes.that happens,but i disagree to get lured.the raindrops are notorious they fall on your face,soften and intoxicate you,they are cold,pleasant slaps on ur face,and you enjoy it.they make you look towards the sky and then make you close your eyes.it is like they cause the birth of a hope in you,you look to the heaven,to the sky,seeking hope,seeking happiness,and then these drops hit you in the eye,unveiling reality,making you close your eyes,making you close all the sources of light.

okay,so you are still under the spell!it takes time for the spell to really break,it takes drops falling in your eyes,transforming into tears and closing the source of light to break the spell.no,i am not scaring you,neither am i a pessimist,i ll still go out in the rain,getting attracted to the little slaps from the mischeivious drops,and i look towards the sky too,and close my eyes too,and i go back and repeat it again.

it's like the monkey on my auntie's terrace.there is a little mirror on my aunt's terrace,the monkey comes everyday,stares everyday at it,tries to hit it,tries to fight with his own reality,get's hurt in the process,but,primate nature!(actually,all beings on earth are a victim of this tendency), it comes back again the next day,wondering and questioning,and fighting..since,we belong to a similar kind of genus,species or whatever,behave in a very similar fashion.we get beaten by our own reality and still come back to face and get mesmerised and fooled with our own selves,mesmerised like the kids did wen pied piper played.

saying this all does nt make me a pessimist,it brings an optimist out of me(like you get watermelons and moisture rish date palms in the heart of a desert),an optimist who knows he is human,who knows the trick behind the game yet choosed to ignore it.i don t mind gettin fooled repeatedly by the drops,by the mirror,i would nt mind following a ravana in a saint's disguise.

the human tendency is taking over me,i am gettin vague,diverting from the issue at hand.so i seek permission from my ancestors and ask the monkey story for an exit,i come back to the rain drops.yes the tiny,vivacious,talketive,chirrupy,nasty drops.

even though i m trying to break a spell,i can t help smiling when i think of that big team of those tiny cute things.they might be small in size but they have got a depth,their centres they are dense,complex,heavy with burdens,duties,they have plans.these drops smile,they splash and disturb the surface of the puddle,but inside,deep inside they have their own plans,aspirations,they are nt crazy restless all the way through in their centres.and these drops are different from the winds that precede the arrival of the drops .

the winds in a way warn us,they open our eyes,they point out to someplace,they make us look towards somewhere far in a dreamy lost way so that perhaps by a lucky chance we see the truth on the horizon,but in no time there are the rain drops,playing the monkey-mirror game(yea the one played on my aunt's terrace) with us.

i sigh and look outside and oh!!there is the wind .it's come to warn us of the rain,of the romantic,sweet,lovely,sensous yet ephermal senses and fantasies.but do i take the warning?no of course not,illusions are pretty things,and i am a human,my ancestors have made history playing the monkey-mirror illusion game(do i need to mention aunt's terrace to remind you?),i have the complete right to what my ancestors enjoyed,yes,i have the right to be illusioned,i have the right to be lucky enough to be ignorant,yes,i have the full right to enjoy the tiny rain slaps,i have the right to steal happiness from tiny moments,like those tiny nasty drops,and i have the right to be foolishly clever and grab the tiny deep happy moments these raindrops give me.

you have the right too,to be happily illusioned,to look towards the sky,you have the right to be happy,because if you are waiting for the real happiness,well,here's news, happiness is nt ever real or tangible,it indeed lies in the tiny temprorary drops that slap you on the face,give you a smile and fall down to the ground later and vanish in the puddle.

no!don t worry about the nature of drops,they are illusions like the tiny happy moments(i would nt change my opinion of them),

i ll now juzt go out and smile at heaven,and challenge the mirror on my aunt's terrace n see if it can make me stop fighting with the happy wonderful illusions of my life,like the child tryin to catch the bubbles,breaking them,and creating more.

yes,the majestic drops have arrived and the primate tendency of getting illusiioned is taking over me!!so,see you after the rain stops again!

twigs nests and the embrace.

2009-06-25T09:00:00.000-07:00

i close my eyes,look back,the tears of joy wet my face,like my friends, these tears are a soft cool touch on my face,they remind me of what life is, of how real i am.loving people and openly saying that has nt ever been my way of life,but sometimes when my friend calls me up and scolds me about something unnecessary,i feel so loved so lucky so full of life.

i become the little twig in the centre of a bird's nest who is entwined with the other twigs around it to make a lovely sturdy nest which is home to a beautiful happy life.

i become the little rain drop ,the one that falls alone but when reaches the earth it jumps and touches the surface and flows towards the place where the little lively puddle of a chirupy flowy life is formed.i m that drop,i go join that little lively puddle and i become the part of it.

my friends embrace me,hold me tight in their safe grip just like the tiny loving kid's hold on his best toy,he would never loosen a grip on it.but kids grow up forget the toy leave it for a new one...all i am doing is waiting expectantly,fingers crossed,juzt like the toy in the kid's hands,i expect that my friends keep me in there warm embrace till the time it bcomes inevitable for anybody to keep the strong hold.i am the toy in the loving kid's hands who wishes that the kid wud nt leave it for a new toy.

the nest of my life,has been till now safely holding strong,i m hoping that the crows of time and inevitability and changes don't scare the little cheerful birdie away from this nest and break the bonds between us twigs and break it and throw it apart with it's black diabolic beak,the attack of time and changes.

i know this is getting very boring and melancholic but sometimes it becomes necessary to sit still like i tell my little cousin,it is important to sit still and feel good ,feel lucky about how generous someone is on you.it is necessary to stop and stand and stare at the scene ,at the beauty nature has showered upon us.

because being lucky does nt matter,what matters is if you are conciously aware of being lucky and happy,and who knows the nature may someday choose to deprive you of those sunlit skies,of those flowery beds and that inevitable day when you are infact actually deprived,you will not have the right to feel so because you hav nt been good enough to appriciate it when you were nt,

when your nest of happy life was intact you took it for granted so it should nt matter to you if now you are one of the solitary twigs lying mutiliated on the ground.

anyway right now i am lucky that my friends love me,spoil me but i should make sure i don t get used to being pampered so that i don t break down with sadness when the tiny lively puddle of my life evaporates, when the rain stops and the sun comes up,sending,dividing the sweet little drops and diffusing them in the dry empty atmosphere where you have to fight with the winds alone because you are a solitary vapour stolen from the surface of the happy puddle.

and as i am thinking these thoughts feeling like the little boat without a sailor wandering in the sea aimlessly,i come to this harbour of conclusion,sometimes you cry because you feel deprived,but sometimes when someone is generous to you ,you cry again because the tears that come when you are happy make you sober, humble you,they make you enjoy the grip that the kid has on the favourite toy,these tears act like the adhesive in the nest of life so that we the twigs are securely entwined making a strudy warm nest!!!

The Ghosts of boredom

2009-06-16T07:37:00.000-07:00

just to tell,the blog owner is nt dead yet! khekhekhe

i wake up and look around with a dumb expression and i feel the spirits leaking back into my head as if through the scientific process of osmosis ,attracted by the emptiness and vaccum of thought in my mind-these are the ghosts i am refering to.and instead of filling up my head with their spooky unearthly presence these ghosts enhance the emptiness inside my skull making it a fraction more heavy and dense and dark.these ghost are characterised by an inactive movement,they move in circles in my head chanting ,making hollow noises,they move in circles because they want to make sure there is no end point and so they lead to nuthing but more circles,they make a vicious circle of dumb nothingness and they don t leave any outlet for an escape.

the ghosts,they restrict any scope of newness,any scope of ideas.as i sleep the ghosts seep out as if getting bored and discouraged because of my peaceful deliberate unconciousness,and this emptiness without the ghosts is pleasant,this emptiness is the material for dreams.without the sleep ,it is like a concious war,the emptiness that makes the ingredients of dreams try hard to push out the dense heavy ghosts from the centre of my head,but the ghosts ,stronger and heavier,continue there circles in my head with malicious smiles on their dark dull faces.they infect they grow they are contagious
as these ghosts move in circles some of them change their route and head towards the rest of the body making it slow,lazy,causing rediculous yawns and the body looses it's energy from which now emanates the unreal yet warm salty slow heavy smell -the owners of the smell are the same things that revolve in circles in my head.as i start to think more deeply into the behaviour of these ghosts,they start reminding me of snakes,the hissing noises that the snakes make,like devil's lullabies,slowing us down,intoxicating us with a comfortable inactivity,laziness that turns unpleasant,unsettling as it prevails for longer and longer.as i furthur think into this issue,i realise it is a vicious,dangerous force of boredom ghosts luking out for emptiness in the heads.they track their victim and before he knows it they already successsfully have pushed and crushed the lively lightness in the heads and are circling victoriously in the victim's head.and i realise that at an advanced stage of this attack by the ghosts,that are unreal and unearthly,they start to have a very real and tangible effect on the victims.the symptoms include imagining shockingly unusual things,writing them down,and also reading such unusual creations reading the imaginations of a bored writer is like responding and supporting the cry of woes of the afflicted ,like a dog in one colony responds to the midnight bark of another dog in another colony.

bottle of wine,a fine cigar

2009-05-30T11:24:00.000-07:00

this poem i wrote for someone's 18th birthday when we enter adulthood,writing it felt more like a homework honestly khekhekhe because it was an obligation ,but anyway its been long since i posted anything in here,so i thought it would be nice for a change!!!!!

a bottle of wine, a fine cigar
here's my friend standing on adulthood's altar
to let go of the childish fantasies, of the moments benign
and drink the youthful sparkle and the lovely deep shades of colour
of maturity , and drink the old preserved newness juzt like the old precious wine
the warm smell of cigar,and the warm strong smoke
dispelling the light restlessness,the dayz to cum will provoke
in you a new passion,a new direction,subtlety,a new joy
there would be a dominant maturity,replacing the old fidgety boy
i hope very much though,that the boy lives on
forever,to bring us da same old laughter, with the same bright but a different warm dawn

yes my friend,i gift you today,and i wish that the sparkle of the wine,makes your life bright
and may a maturity prevail in ur decisions,like the smell of the cigar
and still dere wud remain an innocence so restless, so light
like the breeze, like the wave,taking an old sweet smell very far

here my lovely friend is a mix of life's stillness like the cigar's heavy smell
and the life's sparkling volatility like the wine,casting a new beautiful spell
and finally my friend here you are
with a bottle of wine and a fine cigar

i kno it's a weird poem

i wish...

2009-05-13T06:05:00.000-07:00

it does nt make any sense though,never mind...i did not haf anything else to post and itz been long khekhekhe........that's the latest poem of mine...taazi taazi!

i wish i could vanish into these pages
and be a little word of expression in the poem

i wish i could fly away with the wind
and be a feather of the free wind's wings

i wish i dissolve in the night's darkness
and be the cold feel,the soft touch to bless
the depressed souls that seek the dark
too pinched,hurt by the light
that is too happy too stark

i wish i melt into the ocean so vast
and be away from all insecurities at last

i wish i could be the ocean's little wave
that touches on the beach her loved one's feet
feel happy,satisfied,and then quietly retreat

i wish i could be a sad girl's tear
so that i wet her pillow and leave a sign a smear
for the happy ignorant world to see
that she is restless,in need,her heart is heavy

i wish i could be the pencil's blackness
annd be the little letter which will confess
a child's fear,a woman's love,a man's guilt

i wish i could be the one word struck up in the throat
through which the truth of heart will be spilt

i wish i was the rise and fall of a sad man's chest
and be the curl of hair on the lonely girl's finger
i wish i could be the hope in sad eyes,the manifest
of expectations,and like the little hope i linger
in numerous souls,aggrieved
appaled and from some joy bereaved

i wish i could be the smile the little shrug
you give when you reenter the mirage of a happy life
after mourning reality for a while.............

da ludo, life n d ladies

2009-04-30T11:51:00.000-07:00

dis is 4 my dadi...my loveleist my 1st and my most trusted friend, no itz not juzt 2 make it look beautiful,she reeli is my closest lovliest n da most treasured friend.i ve got much of her characteristics,shez such a bully sumtimes,and so horribly practical other times,yet very sentimental bout sum things.she z gotta temper juzt like mine or i shud write it da the other way round?khekhekhe....she ll b all angry n furious one moment,n kool n happy n loving da other.all u need 2 do is make a sorry sad hurt face.i dun seek peace in my mom's arms 4 itz her streangth n patience n her determination n her unconditional love dat inspires me.........da motherly peace is sumthin i seek in my dadi...so dis is 4 my lovely lovely horrible dadi,u dun kno it dadi but ur da most amazing as well as amusing n precious person in my life.

"itz my turn now,yeah 6...one two three....ur turn manu..yes three on da dice...one two three.....my turn again"..no it was nt 2 people playing ludo..it was juzt dis old strong luking woman wid shiny white hair playing alone..pretending 2 b both herself and manu..manu was infact sittin juzt a few meterz away on her pc..writing sumthin dat old woman wud nt understand and she does nt care either bout wotsoever manu is writing.dis old lady glances at the busily working manu occasionally, wid a luk full of attitude n charm.and den goes back 2 her game as if it does nt matter at all dat dere were nt 2 players ,a necessary condition,on da ludo.manu's gettin restless,she does nt want 2 get up,shez gotto work a bit more b4 she can b free,but shez already getting up reluctent,smiling at da woman,"oki dadi,u can t b me, i m special ,only i can b me",saying dis in a challenging tone she sitz opposite 2 da woman who is smiling naughitily and wisely.with da dice in her hand,she replaces da ludo players in da starting box.yeah ,da game's on.both of dem fired n exited, dey roll da dice on da ludo board celeberating every 6 dey get n passing dissapointed luks wid an unwelcome appearance of a smaller number.both r little gurls playing a game of luck n dey give directions 2 dere players on da board as dey c it best.forgetting da running computer,forgetting dere surroundings, d more worrying aspects of life needing same attention but dey move on,playing.

it getz me thinking everytime i c da ludo board n da dice.itz so much like our lives,da dice rolls n unravels new aspects of life,some like da 6es dat r celebrated,some like da ones n twos,dey r small but dey keep ur life moving.n even tho da face of da dice keeps on changing,da board is da same old torn one,used n reused n da players r da same,our lives r like dis,da circumstances and da situations change,sum r opportunities sum r a bad phase,but v remain da same,da same old player dat directs life through deze circumstances.

anyway,da 2 women did nt haf da time 2 think of such useless things wen more worrying matters were at hand,manu was relaxed tho,she was winning easily ,dice being generous on her.da older woman played on wid a breathless concentration thinking of sumthin 2 do 2 get da game back in control.da sincerety on dere faces is funny rather hillarious,two stupid women one young one old playin a stupid game wen dere were things xtreamly important 2 attend 2.but both deze women r equally arrogant,after all itz da same blood dat runs in dem,dey both give a damn about life n itz bigger troubles.

da younger woman has learnt dis lesson 4m da older one.shez learnt how 2 b happy n how 2 enjoy life no matter what.

da players sit on da ludo board waiting 2 b dragged ahead.da young woman is faster,she does nt hafta count all da boxes,she juzt jumps right 2 da box she needs 2 put her player on bcuz shez gud at counting,da older woman on the other hand counts very determinedly every single box b4 puttin her player in da right place.she wud nt even listen 2 da younger woman who 2 save time tells her xactly where da player shud b placed,2 make it faster.but da old woman knows,depending on other players wud nt make her a gud one,she has her own self respect her own ego,n so she ll count in her irritating slow manner all da boxes.and funnily enough she often forgets what colour her players r khekhekhe,she makes a funny petrubed xpression and asks da younger gurl"which one is mine, red or yellow?"n da gurl wud laugh n say "yellow is minu,dunt u touch it".dey r so immersed in da game dat dey forget da difference between 2 different players.

in life,sometimes u live n move secluded n seperate n othertimes u meet and join other people ,who accompany u n grow 2 b so close 2 u dat u forget dey were different initially,ur friends ur family everyone..

da older woman tho illeterate as per da rules ,holds in her an ocean of xperience n ideas,i wud nt say she is always wise or always right but shez gud enough dat she has lived wid honour n happiness all htru her life.she z dynamic n ready 2 change unlike da other people her age.da younger gurl watched her, shocked wide eyed ,wen da old woman coolely asked even her guy friends 2 cum home n enjoy wen da other verry conservative women around her spend all their day gossiping n talking bout gurls being indescent, having too many rude and unruly guy friends.shez taught da younger gurl how one has 2 change a little bit wid time,yet hold on 2 ones integrity n ones honesty.shez taught her 2 b strong n fight wen da need arises,she has taught unconciously 2 b verry firm n verry arrogant and verry sensitive and decisive.she has taught her 2 b happy n learn 2 laugh at life in itz face,she has taught her how 2 b all charming wid da moment anger n moment love,and she has taught her da biggest n da naughtiest thing in life, u dun always hafta b a rule abiding gurl,dis she taught 2 her totally unconciously not realising it but da gurl is growing up and she learns fast and she knows it 4m dat old woman dat life's not sumthin 2 b taken seriously at all,itz like a game of ludo after all,immerse urself in it n fight n work hard n celebrate da 6es n come out victorious.

but not necessarily literally!.yes coming back 2 dat game,which is nt reeli interesting or capturing 4 others,manu wins it effortlessly,da old woman claims elsecially mentioning"luck U did nt do anything it were da numbers.u ll not b lucky everytime.,it were da sixes,wotz da big deal",dey both start cleaaring da board packing da players ,n putting da dice back in da box.but den da younger gurl freshly victorious ,happy ,confident ,ready 2 take risks luks at da olderwoman,who,after loosing is dissapointed n dissatisfyied n challenged and by their verry weird manner in which dey read each other,dey decide dere's gotto b another game.

yes! bring it on!! da half packed players r out again n da dice back on da board.both da women share dis spirit,dey like 2 play dey like 2 enjoy ,2 da gurl one victory is nt enough,2 da woman loosing means shez gotto play again,she ll not settle wid a lost game.and dis way both of dem go on playing games after games..

.not juzt on da ludo board,on da board of life,they play n dey perform,da numbers on dice dont reeli matter ,cuz, in da end,all dat matters is if u directed ur playerrs correctly or not,n wot mattered even more is even if u directed dem wrong,did u haf da courage n da optimism 2 go 4 another game?.........................DO U??????

da bat n da brook(story)

2009-04-30T09:40:00.000-07:00

life's like da ocean,it takes da old memories n da dead past 2 da dark deapths and da new life and new things surface it, dominating it."things change,ppl move on in dere new lives 2 busy 2 luk back n remember n relive da old dayz wid gud old friends"dey keep sayin dat.ppl forget u,dey haf other things in life far more important dan a childhood friend 4m 7th grade.sangeet feels a similar insecurity dis moment,"wot if hez forgotten me,wot if i m juzt being stupid n over enthusiastic n mayb i m not important 2 him like he is 2 me"

.wot if he s juzt forgotten me ,afterall he has his own new life nnew friends 2 b wid n think of".it was 9 years ago, juzt kids v were...7th class kids..all dat fun v used 2 have, shri n me . all da innocent stupid thoughts dat used 2 ride our minds,things so horribly important at dat time,like saving money 4 dat bat dat sat wid all itz glory n pride on da top shelf of da sharahaa cricket shop next 2 da skul playground.v both wanted it...v luked at it everyday going back 4m skul juzt like a pilgrim luks at his place worship atop a steep hill,being energitic enthusiastic little boys v decided under a pact of secrecy dat v wud get it ,v ll not eat da laal market spcl ice candy,restrain 4m spending money even on da rikshaw ride back home after da guitar classes.2 of us used 2 walk back home talkin n imagining n dreaming juzt like an artist imagining wot he can do wid his new canvass sheet n his new paint brush and his latest muse sittin infront of him.under sa same old sacred pact of secrecy v decided v ll put da bat at my place 4 his sister was a notorious one,n v 4 sure will tease raman and kishor n shreya bcuz dey always tease us.raman keeps telling me how bad reeli shri is,how he said one day dat he hated sangeet n how he thot sangeet was a stupid boi.but raman was a bad boi,he must nt b correct , i knew wot shri is like.dat day he came n told me how those 3 boys were teasing him 4 being friends wid sangeet who was so mean n so clever n so weird wid all his intellectual talk.but it did nt matter,v juzt walked back home mesmerised n enchanted by da life v were gonna haf after v get 2 dat bat. v had a kind of mutual understanding , v did nt even hafto argue or talk bout raman n his stupid friends tryin 2 get us 2 fight .v did nt even hafto call each other friends 2 b da best of frineds.finally one day my mother was informed i was coming home on foot.all i had 2 do was tell her wot me n shri were doing,i had 2 break my pact of secrecy tho,she juzt laughed,it shoched me 4 a while y was she laughing,no she does nt take me or my bat seriously,i felt an anger surging,her stuff was more precious dan mine,but den,she juzt called shri n da 3 of us went 2gether 2 our pilgrim place n v bought dat bat.mummy juzt frowned n commanded "u will not walk back home again 2 save money or do something like dat, just tell me, i ll decide wot u need n wot u don t".never mind mummy,v were da happiest boys on earth dat day,i requested mum 2 let me go 2 shri's place n play.but v did not play dat day v juzt sat dere devising a plans 2 make raman n his boys reeli jealous,n both of us sat dere laughing maliciously at our plan.i went back home wid da bat put it in da safest corner of my room and went 2 sleep.next morning was a sunday,v cud not execute da plan on a sunday bcuz v cud meet dose bad boys only on a skul day.on monday shri was absent 4m skul.i was wondering wot happened 2 keep him 4m coming wen i saw him n his dad walking down da corridor.shri 4 sure did nt lluk happy,had he done something?,shri was sure a naughty boy but he was also wise enough not 2 do sumthin dat brings his dad 2 skul.dey reached da principal's office door n stopped ,waiting outside.i walked 2 sumplace in da ear shot of where dey were n waited,i did not want shri in any more trouble.after half an hour wen dey walked out i ran up2 dem hurried a namaste 2 uncle n asked shri wid my eyes widout speaking wot was da matter was, he juzt luked back, sad.his dad left us alone smiling at me n him said he ll pick him up after their guitar class 2gether after skul.after he d gone shri told me how his father had 2 leave da town because of a transfer,he was planning it since long n had told bout it 2 him juzt yesterday aand added he d b gone 2day 2 stay at her aunt's house dere in delhi 2 get used 2 people dere n also 2 start studying 4 admissions dere in delhi skuls.dere wud b juzt a shift of furniture left n he'd b gone.it was difficult 2 understand y it was happening.my heart sank.shri was going away ,dat was bad 4 sure.v did not talk much after dat.v were too young n too dazed n too stupid 2 xchange numbers or addresses n all.after our guitar class ,uncle came n took him away forever.i wud never c him again,n v ll not take da guitar lessons 2gether anymore,n raman n his boys how r v gonna tease dem wid our bat,oh no! da bat ,v had juzt forgotten bout it it was nt mine it was OUR .n now he was going.i felt so rotten all day.but i pretended i was strong . i was a big boy afterall.n den i was small n helpless. dere was no shrii after dat,saw his dad once or twice in da skul corridors mayb 4 da formalities,da leaving certificate and all.n all gone............i grew up den making new friends n meetin new people but juzt like dat corner of my room dat held our bat,was a little corner 4 dat friend of mine 4m da 7th class.9 years hence,when i was in da medical skul,studting 2b a doc,i had dis thought, sittin in my room one day,where must shri b,wots he doing,howz his life,he still remembers me.n being a person wid a killing curiosity n restless mind,i decided i m going 2 luk 4 him no matter what.i went through several directories n phone buks luking 4 his father's name of no avail and it was finally orkut dat worked n i saw his name on orkut search 4 people one day.i was xited as anythin dat day,too impatient 2 even wait 4 him 2 b online.i looked 4 his phone number in his profile but no use ,checked da friend's list hoping someone had put up dere number on orkut.yes dere was one wid da name krishna,he had his number on orkut but now i had 2 decide if i was ready 2 call up a perfect stranger 2 inquire about my friend?,but dis was nt a difficult decision,i gave it little thought 4 i was more exited bout gettin so verry xtreamly close 2 regaining touch wid shri.i dialled da number n 5 rings n sumone picked it up on da other side said "hullo,who's dis?"..i asked if he knew shrii n he said yes he does,i got verry xited, da same childish feeling of elation took over me.i said i m a friend of his and 2 my surprise he asked if i wanted 2 talk 2 him now bcuz he was dere only.i was exited n nervous n happy n elated n sentimental all at da same time.but den now a typical sadness surrounds me at dis moment,holding da fone 2 my ear.da exitement and da happiness is all gone.i feel like da sea bed dat gets exposed wen dere's low tide in da sea n da sea receds showin da sea bed and itz contents.its as if da like da sea i was covered n surrounded by an illusion earlier dat it would b wonderful meetin shri again afterall deze years n now with da low tide i ve been xposed 2 da reality .insecure n vulnerable n unsure i was thinking if i matter 2 him anymore? mayb he has better friends now,forget about better friends mayb i m juzt a nobody.mayb he's juzt forgotten me.afterall it was juzt a 7th grade friendship.but den i had 2 say sumthing ,i cant go back now coming dis far.so i said in2 da receiver "yes sir i d like 2 talk 2 shrii"...n dat boy called out n said "shrii fone 4 u"..my heart was beating so fast and so hard i thot it wud burst.and i cud nt breath evenly, i was skipping beats n after an eternity i hear his voice,"yes dis is shrii ,whoz dis" and i m sobbing dis side of da fone asking, all breathless 4m da sentimental outburst, "is dis shrii,shrii 4m da rosewood convent skul?"n suddenly i hear him sobbing n saying "itz u sangeet"a rush of emotions in me shocks me..i m crying like a baby n i hear him doing da same da other side.my gawd he remembers me n not only dat, he is my same old shrii.all insecurities fleeing,leaving no trace of any doubt .after that v talked 4 about 2 hours n den my balance zeroed n he called me back den n v went on talking n talking,afterall it was 9 years dat had 2 b covered up between us.
dis day is my best one,da happiest one not only because i got my old friend back also because its taught me sumthing permenant and something true...itz not always dat people move on and forget u,unless u dunt try how do u expect dose gud old dayz and gud old friends 2 comeback 2 u...life is not at all like da ocean dat takes away da old memories 2 itz deapths n new things surface it reducing our past 2 oblivian,our life is like dat little brook running juzt behind our old skul where shrii n i used 2 sit dreaming,it meets new people new places, faces, turns n twists,changes in in itz course but it carries da same water n da same soil and remains in touch wid itz shore,always. yes dat little brooke...and shrii...

shrii and sangeet r da best of buddies now...sharing da same old unspoken understanding which has matured now....both r big boys..learning 4m life..growing...dey share a lot now..dere worries dere experiences dere happy moments....oh but da bat,how can ANYBODY forget dat....da ocean of life sure took da poor old bat 2 itz dark depths...none of dem remember anything bout it,believe me! u go ask dem,dey ll say manu is juzt making it all up....itz juzt dis poor storyteller who remembers dat old little fantasy n dream building of da 2 little friends dat brought dem 2gether.....me off now...u guyz enjoy...keep loving n living my friends

u miss dose gud old dayz n da gud old friends? is dere some1 u lost touch wid n u find urself 2 busy 2 go back n regain touch?juzt give it a try......da real life sangeet n shrii r reeli happy dey did!

miss me a little...

2009-04-28T06:01:00.000-07:00

i m a memory 4m ur past
i m a little moment of ur life mayb da last
on ur mind but,i do hope a lot
dat u d think of me 4 a little while
give it a little smile wen u think of da times v spent 2gether and not
wash it all away al2gether 4 u haf ur beautiful new world 2 luk ahead

i hope so much all da time
dat i d not juzt vanish 4m da night sky of ur memories
n i d b a little star dat at least blinks n reminds
u of a life long lost,n u d watch it n remember
all da smiles n all da fun
hope i d b a live, however insignificant
part of ur thots in dis life's run

dunt bother urself wid my thoughts n me
but do plz luk back a little wen u c
a little souuvenir a little photo 4m da past
n miss me a little,n smille remembering how it used 2 b

while ur doin ur everyday chores..n u come across
while turning da pages of ur life,a little dried petal 4m ur past
i hope dis dried petal,u pick it up n smile n put it back
n move on wid da faint fragrance of dat old life on ur mind

i hope dere d b a little space,in da corner
sumwhere in ur mind,dat keeps in it safe
da old days n an old friendlike da stupid little old teddy
u haf in dat forgotten corner of ur room
dat reminds u once in a while of
,dat stupid treat n dis stupid gift at da mc d's
n da stupid joke wid wich v used at u 2 tease

and yes i hope i d b a smell or an old dried leaf
carried 2 u along wid da breeze,
of da more beautiful of da much cherished
and da unforgettable memories

i hope a lot,dat even if v cannot
share da same old life of dose old gud days
i hope at least v cud,in many beautiful ways
keep dat diamond of da past,da memories.however small however brittle
alive n shining,i reeli do hope u miss me a little

my skul...n yea da corridor.......

2009-04-24T03:32:00.000-07:00

i was born in 1991....but i started being sumone in 1994..dat was da year i was brought 2 dis big building called skul so dat i cud take an admission test n haf an interview..wotever da skul is like does nt matter...wat matters is dat it has made sumthin out of a 3 year old kid who had no clue bout anything in life....my ideas my openions my way of thinking, mayb gud or mayb bad.....da one thing dat helped mould dem is my skul...it's a part of me.....i can t imagine wot i wud haf been like if i were a student 4m a different skul tought by different teachers...i realise da universality of robert frost's famous poem...sumthin like "d road not taken"....i wud surely haf been a different person if it were nt 4 my skul n my frieends n my teachers my influences....i so proudly call dem all mine...yes as if i own dem as if i belong 2 dem....i ll move ahead now...i ll b myself now...no skul no teachers no classmates...n thank gawd no parent teacher meetings...eventually i ll stop missing wat i was like in skul....i ll haf new ppl around me...dey ll furthur influence me my ideas....but..life's like a potter's work......dere's a shapeless mound of clay...in da initial stages da potter gives shape 2 it..bakes it so dat it can b strong... potter's job done...a shape has been given...it wud nt change now...not da shape...but yes dis is where da artist's job starts...he den uses colours on da potter's innovation...makes one clay pot different 4m da other..it now is verry different 4m wot it was juzt after it was shaped..da pot mite den travel 2 different markets purchased ,sold..decorated......yet it ll still b da same old pot only wid added new colours........yes..i ll haf a different world 2 live in....i ll haf a life dat wud nt directly connect wid my skultime dreams n attitude n behaviour....but i wud still b da same old bhindi/assaaat of my class section C............i m gonna grow out of it all n i ll ,like others, feel verry proudly bout growing up n passin out skul n i ll luk down at dat skul going crowd n smile n call dem "kids!"....itz da same story wid everyone...da same bunking classes da same wretched parent teacher meeting memories..da irritating teachers da horrible princi..da canteen...da difference lies in how u acknowledge da fact dat ur skul has made u wot u r...n remembering it n being thankful 2 it.........i wud nt b judgemental...itz completely f9 if i m not gud enuff i mite haf been better if given a better infrastructure mayb sum other skul....but at dis moment...i m wot my life till now has made me....

and i luv my teachers my skul my canteen waale uncle auntie my classmates n i even love da staff roomda watertank da basket ball court da basementda library da art room da skul stage da ground of course da classroom n da class

but i luv my skul ka corridoor da most....cuz unlike da living components of my skul..it has verry quietly wid no special efforts taught me a lesson of life...it says 2 me everytime i c it "manu,thousands of students haf walked on dis corridor..dey ve stood here sharing secrets sharing news gossips anger sorrow,but dere r verry few who ve risen a 4m da corridor floor n made a mark on d notice board on da wall moving parallel 2 me"....u can make footprints on da corridor of da world,dey ll get overlapped eventually n forgotten.....but if u work a little 2 ensure ur mention on da notice board of da world....people will luk at u eveytime dey pass da corridor!!!

luv u n thnx my skul!!!

help!(story)

2009-04-19T09:04:00.000-07:00

hie guyz....as i ve said earlier......2 me life's like da waves in da sea......new waves wash da shore erasing da impact of our past.........n bring wid dem things dat r new n xiting n unknown 2 us 4m da vast ocean....dis beach has played an improtant role in dis boy's life.........itz like he wud ve been sumone else if it were nt 4 dis beach.......he rememberes dat day clearly...walkin juzt like 2day....sunday,march da 23rd 2009 was no different....a regular evening stroll....he secretly enjoyed luking at da sun..da feel of da beach under his feet...da thot process in his head...da breeze...n yea dat girl on dat rock almost in da sea....he never told others bout her...none of his friends...he imagined her 2 b sum sort of mermaid..who came dere every evening 2 meet him.....dat xtended rock was nt a part of da mainland 4 him....it was like a little isolated island...verry different 4m da real world.....n da girl of his dreams sat dere everyday....waiting...........of this he was nt verry sure....he knew she was waiting..but...4 wot?...........he thot of goin upto her n ask her wot was it she waits 4 something so committedly yet so patiently...n he wanted 2 tell her so many other things bout how he feels n wot he thinks.....but he was afraid.....he did not want dat dream like walk 2 b interrupted by reality..juzt like da sea....it takes wid it numerous objects...n once dda waves haf washed dem in2 da sea....da object vanishes..it bcumz a verry insignificant part of da giant ocean....yes dere was pleasure n serenity even in distance...da waves reachin out 4 sumthin on da shore..yet not reaching it......no he was nt courageous enough.....he liked da feel of it...da walk yes, da dreamy feel......he was scared his fantasy his dream wud b shattered n da charm lost once he reeli starts knowin her..........he wanted 2 b dat wave reaching out 4 her....gettin close 2 her once i na while....but never reeli winning her........he concluded dat day he wud nt ever reeli go 2 her....he wanted dis walk of fantasy 4 ever...........dis continued 4 weeks......months.....and den he saw sumthing.....da gurl was nt alone 2day...she was wid sumone....dere was nt serenity in da air dat evening...it was tense,da air....no she was nt fighting....da other person dere....he was nt fighting either....dey were juzt standing....he wanted 2 go n ask dem wot was it.....so much....but no he wud nt ....dat wud b counted as unsophesticated...prying.....and den out of nowhere.....he heard sirens...ambulance sirens...he ignored dem in da begening...sum drowning case perhaps...or mayb an asthama attack....wot he was seeing was more impportant...it threatened his dream his fantasy......it was only wen da sirens got real loud dat he noticed dem..........he observe dey were coming near dem........the 3 of dem......n in a blur...yes he does nt remember anything....it was a blur....dey took da gurl...took her away..da ambulance passed him....n it vanished......da girl did not protest...neither da man beside her....dey all juzt vanished...his dream was gone....his fantasy dat feeling everything gone..............no dis was nt gud....like da tsunami....it took away everything sweet homes built on dreams...it took away life......4 once he juzt stood dere...tryin 2 get himself out of it all........he told himelf...it was juzt stupid 2 attach himself wid sumthing like dis.....she was sum girl he never knew n wud nt in future....how cud he feel defeated if she was gone.........people go away dey vanish dey die all da time on earth........he cud nt attach himself 2 all of dem....da girl was one 4 dat vast croud of ppl........no it was juzt usual.........he now walked up2 dat rock...da same rock on which his mermaid sat every evening..."waiting"...he was sure it was nt dis she was waiting 4....it was sumthin else......yes she was waiting 4 her dream 2 cum true...wid dis thought his heart revolted.........he was nt juzt dreaming wen he was walking on da shore day after day...he was also waiting...waiting 4 a life verry different verry beautiful verry isolated 4m da daily matters...juzt like dis rock infront of him...he was also waiting juzt like da gurl........n now he felt da desperation da need 2 get it all back...........not juzt da dreamy walks but a real life......if he cud go back in time......he wud nt juzt walk n watch........he wud go n tell her...n tell everybody bout his dreams........n make sure dey cum true..........he realised being a dreamer is gud...but being only a dreamer will lead him nowhere......he decided he wud dig in2 da matter.......not bcuz he was attracted 2 da gurl.........but bcuz he now knew wot waiting felt like....he did not want 2 juzt take a walk anymore.....but where wud he begin?.....yes da ambulance...it has da key...sumthin was written on it.....sumthin like sangharsh.....of course...dere was dis welfare hospital juzt meteres away...it'z called sangharsh...people mokingly call it da crazy dreamer's home...4 it had mentally disturbed patients...dey haf different imaginations a world of dere own.....mayb he was one of dem...or mayb everybody is like dem.....dey haf assumptions of dere own dere own world............he took an auto...even tho it was a 10 minute walk............no he had 2 hurry now too much of leisurly walking on da beach........he got down da auto n in2 da hospital........no but da girl was nt dere....not even da man who he had seeen minutes ago.....who should he ask?....but it was made easy....sumone walked 2 him .....god's will?....a tall man...stupid luking...he asked him y was he there.....he told her it was 4 dat girl...n asked if he had seen sumone like her being taken in2 da hospital......da man denied....he was nt sure what 2 do next.... da receptionist....he asked her...nothing...as if nothin had happened.....he walked out....what next?....nothing.........n he did not want anybody 2 c him outside a mental hospital.......no....it was d end.........yes d end 4 sure.............eventually he forgot bout it.....bout da beach...bout da girl............2day he was standing dere again.......it was a little fight wid his girlfriend dat brought him der.....he was sad n troubled....deze gurlfriend troubles !!......one of his friend's had said...."devil cud nt b everywhere so he made girlfriends"....it sounded funny dat tym......now he knew how true it was.......anyway, he was back dere....it was a small incident in his life...weird......never told anybody about it......not important enough......he had learnt after dat day.....life's ongoing...things important 2day r insignificant tomorro.......2day he walked up2 da rock....sat dere.....wondering wot dat girl used 2 c...think........n he started luking at da floor of da sea.....stones...a lil weird insect....sand...and amusingly a little bottle....it was not unusual seeing bottles n waste on da beach.....but it had something bright in it....he picke dit up...n realised it was a peice of fluoroscent paper stuffed inside da bottle...he took it out...sumthing written on it...help!!?????....and an address......juzt dat..............he was almost sure now it was dat girl who put dat dere.......but wot after 4 years?......she must b dead already if she needed help dat time...............he was nt sure what 2 do......thro dat bottle back in da water...or inquire?........no he will inquire.......he ll not juzt walk on da beach n dream....he ll luk in2 da matter...mayb dere was still hope.....he got up....n started...but where?....2 da address? mayb dere was risk...mayb he could nt handle it alone....yes he had 2 raise an alarm...mayb tell da police?...but dey r gonna laff at him...."a madman,wid a fantastical story"...but he had 2 approach someone........he fought againt all doubts n decided he would go 2 da police........he went straight 2 da police station..n told dem all bout it....one of dem luckily took it serious.....n he took 3 constables along n went wid him 2 da address.....n all 5 of dem were dumb founded by wot dey saw....dey saw arms being transported....next day it was da whole police force carrying out a search dere.......arms...youth...da terrorism factory....youth wid no support were being brain washed...dey were making terrorists out of our youth.those not strong enough were being employed in factories n several other horrifying businesses..mayb dat girl was strong enough 2 fite back....she wanted 2 raise an alarm.....4 years 4m dat day.......finally.........da gurl's wait has come 2 an end........but where's she.......mayb dead mayb alive..n suffering......mayb she has been dead all dose 4 years?........but she changed things....he wished he cud meet her....apologise....ask....but no....he was a dreamer dem..only a dreamer...n he suffered...n juzt like da footsteps on da beach cannot b retraced..he can t go back n help her in time...da waves of time haf washed it all away.............but now...he walks dere every evening on da same beach....not juzt fantasizing n dreaming.........he watches out 4 ppl who wait dere........2 b heard 2 b helped....2 b talked 2.........he learnt 4m dat beach ..........dunt juzt dream...even tho da soft sand feels gud under your feet just like da dreams....get real....

beechain shaanti...oct 05

2009-04-17T06:50:00.000-07:00

weird thots popped out ...so worte dem down ....mayb da feelings of a dying heart?...nuthin personal....juzt popped out....wen a patient in an icu c's death in his face?..............wotever..

kyu aisa lagta hai,yeh din niklee jaa rahe haikyu aisa lagta hai,jaise baalu reet ke daane haath se fislee jaa rahe hai

kyu din ke ujaalee ka andhakaar mein ho raha hai parivartankyu dheeree dheere beechain shaanti ko prapta ho raha hai yeh mann

kyu khoyee huyee kavi ki tarah anant vichaaro mein dooba hai yeh dimaagkyu aisa lagtaa hai chaaroo orr lagi hai ek thandi si aag

kyu apnaa hi nai lagtaa mujhe mera hi tankyu ho raha hai har ullas har khushi ka patan

kyu aisa lagtaa hai mein akeela hoochaaro orr hai ek mrityuu toofaan se bharaa sagarkyu aisa lagta hai koi bulaa raha hai jo swayam hai ajar amar

kyu aisa lagtaa hai koi adrishaya lakshaya kheench raha hai apni orrkyu aisa lagtaa hai nirjaan nirjeev nirbal hone lagi hai prem moh ki dor
aashaheen asahaya dekh raha mein chaaro orrkyu lagtaa hai hai nahi hai idhar kisika mere is prasthaan par zor

kyu lagtaa hai hoo nirastraa magarek parayaa sa swayam ladee jaa raha na jaane pahunchnee ko kis anjaani dagar

kyu lagtaa hai mein hoo iss duniyaa mein akelakaisi hai yeh beechain shaanti ki veelaye ajeeb intezaar ki veelabeechain shaanti.....................

wot goes around cumz all da way back around!!

2009-04-17T06:00:00.000-07:00

v ve been exploiting nature n itz resources widout thinking of da future.......a poem..not reeli real..but juzt imagine?

ek din aisa aaiyeega

jab jaanwar sabhaya ho jaiyeega

apne ghar apne sharar

aur apni alag duniyaa bananaa chahegaa

ek din aisa aaiyeega

jab jaanwaroo mein ek jaati kasaiyee kehelayeega

aur kasaighar mein jaanwar nai

insaan kaata jaiyeega

ek din aisa aaiyeega

jab sher bhi apne makaan banaiyeega

aur shawaako ke liyee

khaane par insaan ka maas laiyeega

ek din aisa aaiyeega

jab cement ke jangaalo ko kaata jaiyeega

aur rehenee ke liyee

insaan jagah naa dhund paiyeega

ek din aisa aaiyeega

jab jaanway shikaari ban jaiyeega

aur garbhgriyaha mein se bhi

insaan ko nikaal bhagayaaga

ek din aisa aaiyeega

jab sur-taalo pe jaanway leherayagaa

aur insaan is vasudha par se

lupta hone lag jaiyeega

ek din aisa aaiyeega

jab jaanwar apni vilasita par ittarayegaa

aur insaan tadap tadapkar

apne hi pheinkee kudee mein mar jaiyeega

ek din aisa aaiyeega

jab jaanwar jeevan vishaal ho jaiyeega

aur insaan ko apne

chhotepan ka ehsaas ho jaiyeega

ek din aisa aaiyeega

jab prakriti ka vaar insaan par apna krodha bbarsaiyeega

tab insaan to kya

unka cement eeinto ka saamrajyaa bhi khatm ho jaiyeega

ek din aisa aaiyega

jab insaan manushayataa ke ant ka saakshi ho jaiyeega

agar aaj bhi vah apne

amanviyaa karyoo ko naa rok paiyeega

callous?.................datz wot v do 2 da wildlife n da forests!!!

me

2009-04-17T05:12:00.000-07:00

heyy dis is me ...how can manu haf a blog wherein she does nt talk bout herself?.......i m a verrry talketive gurl n i m arrogant enuff not 2 improve......i got gr8 friends....gr8 family...juzt dat i fite a lot wid my papa...i lUV 2 read...mad addict of buks....confused gurl is wot i m i ve got no idea as 2 wot i gotto do in life.....n blive me..itz not kool2 b unfocussed...itz scary.....yeah i like 2 waste time.....n i dun like bothering myself wid ANYTHIN at all..... i m a lil short tempered at times not usually wid friends.....n i dun mind anybody or anything unless itz causing me sum sort of allergy........one thing i hate is smoking rest all is verry gud on earth......even da chaddi buddy cartoon.....i m done now....post ur comments...gonna please me like crazzy!!! thnx pplzz

FRIENDS

2009-04-17T03:57:00.000-07:00

u guyz r my angels.....u r da ppl who ve helped me rise....given me ur time ur luv ur brains<2>.....thnx guyz 4 being around wen i need u....

VAMPSSSS...swati keeps on praising me tellin me how gud i can b...even tho she's juzt being generous n all of us kno it...it makes me feel gud n beautiful n confident...vageesha...i juzt cannot get tired of her lectures..i juzt luv it wen she speaks..muaaah....shruti..a 4 year old kid wud b more chaallooo..she z total dumbo...absolutely luvable...piyu..she fights a lot..n messes up things...but shez still da most charming gurl around..she ll steal ur heart wid dose BIIIIG eyes of her's...shruti khokkhar da ultimate nerd...is kool.....no reeli kool.....shez real fun to b wid..shez got dis chilled out attitude..n tho she is nt made of dat senti stuff...she ll make u feel gud in her own spcl way....sanduu..chuppi rustam is a horribly quiet gurl even wid her closest friends......anku..our fashion designer...once she getz started on clothes n brands shezll go on 4 an eternity..but shez gotta gr8 choice n dressing sense.....not da senti stuff actually..but mast...AND...now i present 2 u manu...ab kya tareef karu!!!i m juzt too lucky....

sahil....he's such a kool nice stupid "little" friend......he juzt got committed 2 sumone cute...so he wud nt let me upload stupid pics of his on orkut.bcuz dat mite make him luk like a fool infront of her..khe khe khe.......no i totally respect ur emotions.how wud i kno i neva got committed...but i wud nt want my crush guy 2 think me stupid n ugly!!!...he can make u laff all da time......da most vella guy on earth yet...da loveliest one i ve ever met......got dreams n fantasies unimaginable.....a taste 4 english music...n gud luks as well....i m not forgetting da bhindi thingy ...yea...he's a champ at naming ppl....nhorribly notorious...thnx oye!!

viraat..a virtual worldfriend..yet more real dan any of da friends i ve ever had........absolutely lovable...u talk 2 him once n u get addicted 2 him......smooth talker..supportive intelligent..n yea he knoz everything....n he scolds u at times...scaares u like crazy....n yea u keep irritating him..itz total fun......hez dere 4 u anytime n all da time...u juzt tell him u need him...he s gonna b der...u can trust him like anything....n u can talk 2 him 4 hours.....n hez dere al lda time even tho he's a doc...i m sure he's a gud one even tho i m neva gonna risk his trreatment...khe khe khe.........no hez a combination of gr8 mind n beautiful heart..n yeah he can get real charming n real cute n real attractive at times.........bware doc's addictive!!!i keep tellin him stupid stuff weird ideas n crazy thots...n he not only listens 2 dem....understands it all too!!!u need brains 2 reeli understand wot i say.....

luv u guyz!!!!!!muaah!!!!!

Breezes n Waves..........

2009-04-17T03:53:00.000-07:00

the mighty sea reminds us of a phenimenon well known as life. it forces us in2 thinking wot life is all bout.it's like da living sea.d life,it brings wid it experiences juzt like d waves dat constantly wash da shore n birng wid dem shells n other things that r a reminder of our visit 2 da beach.a reminder 2 wot our life is bout.the waves,they wash away our past and v walk ahead on da clean undisturbed expanse of sand making footsteps.these footsteps r like the decisions in our life,there impact does fade away wid time but dey sure decide which way r v heading.and our decisions r ours no matter da kind of friends family sources circumstances v r in2 juzt like our footsteps on da beach r ours n noone else can fit in2 dem. this young boy waiting 4 his friends faces a similar delimma.he feels confused,sad,and angry.sometimes in his life,the people,his friends surround him juzt like da ocean breeze that carries him away in2 a beautiful cool n light world and he starts believing he is a part of this happy and ever moving life.his friends r a part of his life n he a part of dere,s dey mutually share der lives n along wid it share da sorrows and da joys of life.and den sumtimes dis boi realises how lonely he is in da vast croud of ppl who claim dey belong 2 him and promise 2 share da consequences of his decisions and his problems n his joys.tthis thot makes his steps heavy on da vast sea shore and he bcumz concious of da horizon da meeting of da sea n da sky which is far off unachievable just like da ultimate pleasure and contentedness in life.dis in turn fills him wid a realisation-he is a part of their world yet da consequences of his decisions will b his own and his life,birth,death,struggle cannot b shared inspite of da claims of his loved ones.he realises it's important 2 decide if he wants 2 get carried away by da breeze and fall back as da breeze stops and disagrees 2 carry us wid it anymore.or 2 learn 2 distinguish between da breeze and ourselves and b a part of it and yet not b influenced by it hence walking straigtand focussed.he decides against getting reverted,disturbed and fooled by da cool breeze and his steps get faster and stronger.he decides nuthin can fool him and nuthin can disturb him and he will maintain his integrity and will not get weak and will not fall 4 da cool breezes in life-the lil pleasures da influence. he will b a strong character not wavered by any kind of external influence.he will b strong and not prone 2 influence to infatuations.he ll make a life that will b his own and not haf regrets bout wrong decisionz due 2 wrong influences.he ll b himself even in a croud.he ll not let da immaterial things,things dat dun matter,disturb his meditation,his focus.he accepts the loneliness prevailing in da heart of every human being in dis world full of ppl.he ll stay in touch wid his soul,his individuality even when surrounded by friends luring him in2 gettin carried away.he wud nt let deze earthly illusions fool him.and he is now walking faster,straight and confident and den abruptly dis train of thot is brought 2 a stop as he hears d familiar laffter of his friends.he still has thid thot in his head-however v claim 2 b wid each other in da dry and da wet v still remain individuals .v cannot share birth death v cannot share ourselves our xperiences our decisions will b ours .itz on us either 2 trust da illusion n distract n move away 4m our path or 2 b unbiased and accept da reality of life..u r only u even in a crowd..d thot lingers and juzt as da friends call him out and crack da latest joke around about da ugly boi in class,this thot vanishes juzt like da sea wave washing away sum part of da beach wid it 2 da ocean and he laffs back and says "u guy,u kno wot,dat cute gurl in da upper class,she smiled at me 2day"datz da best thing ever happened 2 me. but no dis is nt da best one,d ocean keeps bringing wid it things 2 da shore and wash dem away again and it getz lost and da breeze carries u away 4 a while and den u get in touch wid da ground wen da breeze stops. life's not bout completely being an individual..itz not bout being an inseperable indistinguishable part of a croud ITZ BOUT BREEZES AND WAVES.