Someones, Somewheres and Somethings

Because "Nothing Ever Happened" - VI

2011-12-25T17:28:00.000+04:00

"I was getting ready to forget you. Do you know? This made me remember so many almost forgotten memories."

Because "Nothing Ever Happened" - V

2011-12-24T02:30:00.000+04:00

I sat alone across the mahogany mirror as my reflection resounded what my heart reveled.

I slipped gracefully out of the whites of my satin; your face haunting me as I undressed myself.

Good old chivalry, O' so old fashioned; no promises made, no words were kept.

He had loved me like a man of passion and ripped me to my final breath.

Whilst caressing me with a dance of enticement, the night winds swayed the curtains ashore.

I surrendered as I walked towards your memory; bare, unarmored and self exposed.

I secretly wished you were watching me too and with sinful eyes you undressed my desire.

And so, I used that spark in your eyes as the match to set myself on fire.

Because "Nothing Ever Happened" - IV

2011-12-22T03:41:00.000+04:00

I dream of you.

Every night.

I can feel you.

Are you around?

I saw you today, and yesterday; and the night afore.

I met you for the first time each day

And though you were a stranger

You took me to a familiar place.

Where I had met you for the last time, a hundred years ago

It was like summer on a snowflake

While I sat with you on the staircase

As we watched the sun set on the lake

Of the shores I have been to before

But with you I visited it for the first time, again.

Drenched in the silver moonlight I lay

While the winds brushed me with the dust of your clay

Like a silent whisper, I breathed into them your name

With eyes tight shut I wished you wished for me the first time

To want you the way I did last.

Because "Nothing Ever Happened" - III

2011-12-20T00:47:00.000+04:00

I want to run.

Run so fast that it exhausts every particle of my existence; my ability to think or remember. Run so far that I lose every nuance of familiarity - no faces known; no voices heard or places heard of. Run away from the minefields of memories that you have laid at every step of every path that you have crossed; from the vapors of moments that froze when you glanced at me; from every topic we ever touched upon; from every touch that continues to reverberate in my mind.

You left a little of you there; a little bit of your skin and your tangled scent; a lingering moment that could never reach it's destiny. It's lost and incomplete and unless you touch it again, it'll continue to incomplete me because I shared it too in the same space and time. It felt as though I was transcending into a parallel universe where everything ceased to exist. Everything but you and me. But it ended before it began; like a letter unsent or a fantasy perturbed before it took flight from the figment of my imagination. Were you even real? Today, I breathe as though nothing ever happened, but the doors to that parallel universe appear and reappear irrespective of wherever you are because I am right here with your thoughts, where you left me last.

You never touched my soul. You reached out to touch my skin but I guess you dipped your fingers in the spaces between my body and my soul; the spaces I never knew existed. Maybe it didn't and you unknowingly carved that space within me. Look carefully at your hands, you'll still see my glitter because when you touched me I had forsaken my ideals but I was glowing from inside. I felt so abstract and yet I was more myself than ever before.

I want that moment back again, just to regain the loss of all thoughts; to regain the loss of my sanity; to regain the certainty that nothing else mattered. I want that blur back because while leaned against that wall, although I saw or heard nothing, every realm of my being acknowledged your presence pressed against my body with such heightened sensitivity that I had forgotten to breathe. And in that moment, I was reborn. You painted me with wild colors and framed me into a picturesque. You were an illusion but you were as close to reality as could be.

And so I want to run. While a part of me wants to run back to that blur, the other wants to run away from it, towards the bright light and disappear into the golden dust that dances in the faint afternoon rays.

Because "Nothing Ever Happened" - II

2011-12-13T02:41:00.000+04:00

There is a twinkle in your eyes. But I know, it couldn't be just one star each. Maybe a few galaxies buried deep under your skin giving way to the light through your only windows. I can see them when I look at you every single time; swirling while they hypnotize and slow things down around me.

The twinkle- it makes me fumble and forget the words I had practiced in my head a million times over; the confessions I am yet to make. It makes me want to write of Neruda and Van Gogh; of moonlit nights and close dances; of romance and old songs; of dried orchids and wine.

I have never loved you. Just liked you- in bits and in crumpled pieces of unsent letters. The sound of your voice; your thin lipped wide smile; the million expressions that run across your face. But I guess I fell in love with the twinkle in your eyes.

Just the twinkle in your eyes.

Because "Nothing Ever Happened" - I

2011-12-06T10:05:00.001+04:00

In the darkness of my thoughts, when all the lights areturned off; and all the curtains are drawn; and all the doors are shut andtightly locked, I think about you. In the constraints of my walls, I open mybox, layer by layer; dust by dust; peeling the thin skin of my feelings cautiouslybecause I know that I need to lay it back just the way it was once the doors tothe outside world are open. The outside world – where you stand andirrespective of how much I hurt inside, I mask a smile and look at you just towatch you smile back at me.

Delicate and fragile, I contemplate running into your arms. It’snot when you hold me strong but when you don’t hold me at all when I wouldbreak. So I stand still, grounded in my thoughts while everything continues to stiraround me. But the feelings never stop. They gush through every lane of mybody; burning my skin and the insides.

I find a strange kind of warmth even while you stand coldoutside. I look outside my window and watch the snow fall mercilessly while Isupport a hailstorm inside me. You know, it would be summer if you could smileat me just once and mean it? I would wear my yellow summer dress and gostrolling in the orchard; pretending that you are there with me, walking, nothand in hand but locking my entire world to yours by just a finger. Oh! How lovely would it feel for the sunny July to return!

And while I unravel in your reverie, I find it’s time toreturn back to what truly is. I slip into the skin of my feelings again-warily; not so that I don’t break it but so that I don’t have to grow it backagain. Last time I broke it, it grew stronger; but then everything you shedyour blood for does find its way back into your veins. So, I lock my box fivetimes and mask a smile before I unlock my doors. I pull up the curtains andturn on the lights and step out just so that I can find comfort in existingaround you as someone strong and proud if not anything else at all.

Because " Nothing Ever Happened"

2011-12-02T16:45:00.000+04:00

I wish you knew the way I feel,
Or maybe just the little things I sealed
Into the little actions; the ones that may go un noticed.
Went un noticed?

Like a love struck teenager I doodle
Your name next to mine
It doesn't feel so perfect
But it does feel right.

For all that never happened

For all that that ceased to exist

What a pity! Cannot be reminisced

But will stay somewhere in space and time

And one day when the breeze feels too cold

It shall remind me of you

And someday when you hear of my name again

It shall remind you of me too.

The way you make me feel

Your thoughts or just a mere sight
When you pass me by

When your shoulders brush mine
Memories tangled, entwined
Your scent and mine
Faded thoughts
Lost, lucid dreams
Dreamt once, forgotten henceforth.

But Who Dreams of getting Married???

2011-11-30T02:13:00.000+04:00

Being a girl, I guess I am expected to have some crazy ideas for my dream wedding. But frankly, I have never really thought about it. How could I, when I could never imagine myself actually being married?

I have always been a romantic, but the fantasies of marriage still elude me. Somehow, I have gotten only so far as imagining myself in the wooing and the dating phase or the act of togetherhood forever and ever. Although I believe marriage to be a sacred institution, it has always failed to feature anywhere in my thought process.

So, today when my parents popped the question. I let out a screechy wail. A few years back I would just do it to hide my embarrassment but this time it was real.

Have I begun to believe my pretense?

PS: You may call me grammatically challenged, but I even spelled "marriage" wrong through out this post. Spell check saved my life here but would it after I am actually married??

The Kind Of Girl I Am

2011-11-20T02:06:00.000+04:00

I am the kind of girl who believes in fairytales and magical wishes.

I am the kind of girl who giggles when the entire hall is surrounded by dead serious quietness.

I am the kind of girl who secretly cries while watching sloppy emotional movies.

I am the kind of girl who puts up a strong front even when her heart is broken into a million pieces.

I am the kind of girl who believes that in the end everything will be okay.

I am the kind of girl who puts her faith in chits of "Yes" and "No" to make a life changing decision.
I am the kind of girl who looks for the evening star and wishes on it religiously.

I am the kind of girl who believes in romance and selfless love.

I am the kind of girl who believes- no matter what.

I am the kind of girl who dreams with her eyes wide open.

I am the kind of girl who hums to the tunes of corny romantic songs when no one is listening.

I am the kind of girl who dances under the glow in dark stars of her ceiling.

I am the kind of girl who pretends to read the newspaper only to reach and solve the crossword.
I am the kind of girl who'll never compromise on her pride and self respect.

I am the kind of girl who sounds straight forward and daring but is really shy inside.

I am the kind of girl who is afraid to get her heart broken.

I am the kind of girl who is scared to talk about her feelings and emotions.

I am the kind of girl who feels- a lot; but will never show it.

I am the kind of girl who loves to walk barefeet on the sands of a moonlit beach.

I am the kind of girl who loves the smell of coffee beans and yellow pages of an old book.

I am the kind of girl who uses dried flowers as bookmarks.

I am the kind of girl who twirls with her arms wide open when it rains.

I am the kind of girl who can find all her life's happiness in a few close people;

And loose all that happiness even if one of them steps out.

I am the kind of girl who blindly jumps in with all she has once she has found true love.

I am the kind of girl who loves to laugh and love.

I am the kind of girl who loves- deeply, passionately and forever .

The Art of Being a Secret Keeper

2011-11-12T21:41:00.001+04:00

Ever questioned your expectations from others?

Ever acted on your instinct and poured your heart out in front of the other only to feel like a fool after having done it?

Ever not regretted it?

Being ditched or rejected is definitely one of the worst feelings in this world but it is important that you know how to handle it. What is most essential is that you know your self worth and value yourself to deserve better. Express your emotions only to a point where forth you do not overstep your self respect. And everything else you feel, keep it to yourself because it is personal.

Draw a line.

Feel but do not reflect. Fear but face it. Return what belongs to him but keep the memories safe. Reminisce and hold on but know that someday you'll let go. Hold your head high and walk away to never return to that feeling.Allow your heart to thump harder when he passes you by but keep yourself together and gather each bit of you because when put together, each bit completes you.

Most importantly, be strong.

What you truly feel belongs to you alone. And keeping it to yourself is the art of being a secret keeper.

Max Ehrmann's Desiderata

2011-11-11T23:21:00.000+04:00

Vanilla Twilight by Owl City

2011-11-10T16:20:00.000+04:00

Dedicated to my Someone Special...

The stars lean down to kiss you
And I lie awake and miss you
Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere

'Cause I'll doze off safe and soundly
But I'll miss your arms around me
I'd send a postcard to you, dear
'Cause I wish you were here

I'll watch the night turn light-blue
But it's not the same without you
Because it takes two to whisper quietly

The silence isn't so bad
'Til I look at my hands and feel sad
'Cause the spaces between my fingers
Are right where yours fit perfectly

I'll find repose in new ways
Though I haven't slept in two days
'Cause cold nostalgia
Chills me to the bone

But drenched in vanilla twilight
I'll sit on the front porch all night
Waist-deep in thought because
When I think of you I don't feel so alone

Solitary Reapers

2011-10-26T20:44:00.000+04:00

Caverns secluding the tenebrous fate,

Bound to thy fate but extending free.

Grasping the shadows that have lurked within,

They doth teach the night their trick.

Those shimmers at dark though bound to time,

Gasps escape at every glimpse;

Glances thrown at hush of winds,

At the slightest trace of nuance profound.

Modestly careful, gracefully rebuked;

Shadows carved from the graves of vouch.

Secluded cries of secluded past,

The intimate world forgotten henceforth...

Every Breath I Breathe

2011-10-03T08:22:00.000+04:00

In the ferocious tides that rise and crash,

Like my ardent desires that smother and die;

In the hazy phrases I had once engraved,

On the sand of the shores beneath the immense sky.

I look up above at the descending dawn,

Hoping you feel the rhythm of my song.

In the charismatic rays of the vehement sun,

When flowers bloom and blush all day;

When I wait and pluck the petals of memories

Of the moments when I watched your way.

I hear your voice in every talk,

and hear it fade in shades of gray.

In the silent rustle that leaves make

When the morning dew carefully tickles their cheeks;

In the careful hush that winds make

When moments freeze with a blow of breeze;

I breathe your breath and so I breathe

Your name in every breath I breathe...

Coffee, A Book and Raindrops...

2011-09-26T01:40:00.000+04:00

Oh these Mumbai rains!

A boon or a bane?

To those who get clogged in it, Bane maybe. But its Sunday afternoon and while I sit on my balcony; sipping at my hot coffee, reading Anne Frank.. this is what the view looks like..

Not so baneful. Not so at all..

New Girl In The City

2011-08-10T02:50:00.000+04:00

MBa- check!

So I moved to Mumbai in June.

Working now..finally! I know how people crib about wishing to never leave college.. fun and frolic college life.. blah blah. I never felt that during my post grad. Made plenty of potential colleagues and also a handful of close friends. And although it was heart breaking parting ways with them, I would never wish to stay.

It's not like I have never seen that phase, or felt the feeling of never wanting to leave. I have been there too but only during my graduation. I made some fantastic friends.. closest ever! The last few days of grad college was a trauma. I couldn't imagine letting go of friends who had become my family - my home away from home.

I moved to India in 2006. Leaving home should have ideally involved a lot of mixed feelings. But for me, it didn't. The only low was living away from my bundle of joy - my brother. I was a teenager who had never been away from home; not even for a vacation with friends. So the whole idea of new found independence was super exciting.

That's the kick I get today from being employed; from having moved away from the distorted idea of independence when I first left home to having understood what it truly means; from knowing that independence does not mean doing as you wish just because your parents aren't around to supervise you but understanding that while every action you do has a consequence, being independent entails being responsible for those consequences.

Post one month of my luxurious stay at the company guest house and a few weeks of rampant house hunting I am proud to say that I have finally found my abode, which I shall be paying a bomb for, independently.

Yes, independence is very expensive in this part of the world. And that picture you see, that's the view from my balcony.

*Truly Blissful*

Want him to be a loving boyfriend? Get him a Puppy!

2011-05-10T22:52:00.000+04:00

It’s funny, the kind of life altering effects owning a pet can have on you and your personality. Especially if the pet you own is a puppy. When you add a puppy to your family, you don’t add a pet, you add another family member. It’s not surprising why most of the dog owners have experienced love and other such emotions at greater depths. It’s not who they were; it’s what their puppies have made of them. Puppies don’t demand love from their owners, they make their owners fall in love with them.

They are natural enchanters. The way they look at you with pleading love filled eyes; how they make you feel welcomed every time you enter your house irrespective of what the time is. It’s like when they wag their tail to show you how much they love your presence around them, they try to tell you how important it is for them to know that you know that and how it doesn’t matter whether they speak the same language as you or not. They become your foreign land love affair; sharing your best and worst through the common language of love. It’s not long before they become your 3 am phone call, your best friend and ultimately your own child. Their actions start to symbolize cuteness and you start to compare any human expression that would even distantly relate to those once given by your puppy.

I don’t own a dog. But he does now. And puppy eyes is what he calls me.

It’s true that puppies bring out the mother in every human being irrespective of their gender. I have seen it. I remember knowing a boy, who once at the thought of a puppy would give such an aversive expression, you wouldn’t even want to take that topic up with him again. He would run away from babies, not only holding them but even from the thought of doing so. The same guy happens to own a puppy now, accidentally of course. One year later, he is a different guy. He loves his puppy, plays with him , makes him take a bath and enjoys it. The same boy who once had a fantasy of shooting his alarm clock in it's knee, now wakes up at 4 am everyday,takes his dog out for a walk and defends him like a warrior when other dogs try to attack him.

He is no more my hero alone. He is also his puppy’s hero; strong, protective and a shielding force.

He used to refer to them by “it”. He calls his puppy a “he” now. He is all the more loving and all the more caring. Not just to the puppy but also to the people around him. He is a whole different person now.

He is a dog lover.

Of Faded Beads and Rusted Flowers - December, 2006

2010-11-15T17:18:00.000+04:00

When I had written this

It was time to let go. I had dived into the shallow end. I had fallen.. fallen hard. I had to pick myself up because I knew that if I didn't right then, nobody would.

It was time to let go and so I did with these final words..

---------------------------------------------

The Asleep Child

How far can I run away?

For how long can I run?

And where to?

I have no place to hide.

My broken heart

My wounded pride

I am lost.

I am hurt.

I am trapped inside

Ripped open by your words

Stabbed repeatedly

I stand here naked

In front of your eyes

My raw emotions

My bleeding cries

Those incessant thoughts

The flashbacks in black and white.

Echoing memories, resounding voices

Traces of trails we left through time

We left our footprints on the sands

While hand in hand we walked those miles

The last whispers lost in space

I gather well and safely hide

It’s like a shower of fallen stars

While the moonlight sings the lullaby

And the night winds rock the cradle

Of our love, the asleep child.

Of Faded Beads and Rusted Flowers - October, 2006

2010-11-08T07:58:00.000+04:00

When I had written this

I was trying to figure what I truly felt for him and not just at that moment. Nothing else but brutal truth. It was more for me than for anybody else. Because I was in denial. I was in love with the feeling of what could have been and not what was.

And so I shut my heart out and wrote as and what my soul dictated ..word by word; raw thoughts and bare feeling; truth and nothing else.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Many dreams are born dead and some are buried alive.."

You are the shadow of a memory; the memory of a fading thought. You are everything that could be and is not.

You are the warmth of a brightly lit lamp that could show the path but never guide the traveller; the vague feeling that could never be expressed - neither in words or more..

You are a dream not yet born; a desire not yet ignited; a question not yet asked.. an answer uninvited.

You are the stillness of a moment; the wind that I fail to catch; a wish buried and lost under the heap of broken pieces of fallen stars.

You are the breeze unembraces; a trail untraced; a discovery unknown; a fidgety thought which slips out the moment you begin to try to hold.

You are the last breath of a dying hope; the first emotion in a tear's heart; an unfinished piece of a perfectly designed art.

You are the first spark of passion and also the last; the kiss that lingers and leaves traces on the lover's lips. You are the unperturbed silence of a broken heart; the ashes of the memoirs of what could have been but is not.

You are every joy that slipped away; every wound that chose to stay. You are the beginning, you are the end; not a lover .. not even a friend.

Of Faded Beads and Rusted Flowers - September, 2006

2010-11-05T17:47:00.000+04:00

“ A smile held a moment too long, an absentminded brush of a hand…”

Wrapped in reverie this time will pass, but this will remain still. This will remain still - as still as this. As still as your presence, as still as this moment where all I have is nothing. And yet when I sit in front of my lord and open my arms with numerous thoughts rushing into my head, just like the strictly captivated water gushing through the tiniest hole breaking in; like an indifferent intruder and widening the hole even more with the heat of its passion burning away anything and everything that comes in its way, all I feel is the confusion of that void which was felt before when I had so much to say and so much to convey and though I knew it all, the moment when I saw your face it all dissolved the way once upon a time your smile faded all my anger away.

And I sat in front of my lord with my arms wide open for a long long time.. or maybe longer, as I felt the void, the confusion, the incessant flow of thoughts turn my head numb- too numb to think, too numb to allow me to move. And thus I sat still for long long time, or maybe longer hoping and wishing hard for you to send any of your angels -probably a novice. I was hoping and wishing hard for you to send any of your angels-probably a novice- to whose silence I could listen cautiously, combing for the slightest clue dropped accidentally into the lap of that naïve moment.

But as the time passed, I sat petrified, motionless waiting for a long long time or maybe longer until the silence began to prick my ears and I could hear it no more. Holding on to every string of the slipping faith that I had instilled in my lord I decided to find the angel in the feeblest fragment of my imagination, which was brought into this world by the intricate struggle of my mind. And holding on to every string of the slipping faith that I had instilled in my lord I decided to find the angel, realizing the brutal silence to be the inability of the novice to speak and thus by design its ineffectiveness to drop a clue.

But still I sat in front of my lord with my arms wide open for a long long time.. or maybe longer, gaping thoughtlessly until every particle of the matter of my creation began to hurt. And with the last breath of my failing strength I realized I loved him still but his love was too much to hope for, the reason being nil. So wrapped in reverie this time will pass, but this will remain still- the moments are gone and memories have perished but the flame of your love burns still in me and the uninvited dreams of your image still make my day-Still..

Into a Dreamer's Pensive

2010-10-06T04:39:00.000+04:00

I saw her light the lamp at eve,

The night had gotten just dark enough.

But the dancing winds quenched the fire,

For her spark lit eyes did all the work.

Tattered and tainted her soul so frail,

It was hard to track as it drifted away.

Her body so still with the grains intact,

Her movement left loose the sand of her clay.

And whoosh came the wind and blew the sand grains,

And that whoosh of wind caused her existence to fade.

The sand grains mixed with the autumn leaves,

Blew her right into the wind and onto my face.

They say she had grown beyond the crispy vines,

But in her laugh I had heard a million waterfalls.

I had seen her mix it with the silver moonlight,

Entice the night and dance with a billion stars.

I saw her last with the twirling flowers,

And heard her last in the echoes of sweet refrains.

The memories failed to keep her, that moment recedes us;

To the life in the deserts of the village’s remains.

2010-08-02T04:05:00.001+04:00

I couldn’t quite remember sometimes. It had been a long time since I had seen you. I could picturise your face in my head but somehow it was always blurry. Maybe it was the dust of those hundred years that had gathered on the plate of my memory that made your face look so hazy. And no matter what I did, how much ever I rubbed my eyes or rattled my head, I couldn’t really picturise you like you were. And as I began to forget trying to remember your face I came across a few photographs. And there you were... young and vibrant all over again. There we were... together and happy... all over again. I could smell my favourite scent on you and I could feel the colours dance in the background. And for a moment it was all the same...

2010-07-19T03:51:00.000+04:00

Resting in your arms, is my every wish; my every dream,
My every thought, my everything.
Resting in your arms, are my tangled hair and their tangled scent;
And gently as you untangle them, are your fingers caressing all worries away.
And in between those tangled things, is the magic that your fingers play,
As they touch my every lock of hair, with their subtle dance of grace.

Resting in your arms, are my ears that hear your heart play,
The beats as my cheeks feel its pace;
As in my ears they lay, the rhythmic flow of music that repeats again
And yet again; like how my eyes reflect your face,
And how my breath chants your name and how the morning breeze
In the morning sun, chases my fears away.

Its in your arms my soul resides and in your arms this heart of mine
Finds comfort and the fairytale it has always wished to find.
And somewhere between my heart and mind,
A flame of passion unrealized
Buried and tattered finds the love
That binds your soul to mine.

It’s in your arms now, where I lay, the petals of memories where you stay
My heart, my soul, my body and mind;
And all desires as pure as the drops of first rain.
I am a dreamer and in your arms I rest, the dreams of sunsets and sunrise
I knit the stars to the night sky
A walk along sands at dusk and dinner by the moonlight…

Not Just a Sony Ericsson K850i

2010-07-15T23:31:00.000+04:00

He is no more amongst us but I can still feel him here. What can I say? He was not just another phone.

Thanks for being there and for making so many moments and memories possible. You'll be deeply and dearly missed. :(

Rain, Rain Come Again !

2010-07-15T04:22:00.001+04:00

Oh rain, how I love thee! Not that I don’t appreciate the sunny-ness of the warm summer days but rains have always been my favorite. I feel everybody has some or the other emotions attached to it. To some it brings nostalgia, while for some it is a reflection of what they are feeling deep inside but cannot show. The lil' old fashioned L-OW-VE-ER-SSS give it a romantic notion while the new gen ones associate it to their steamy/hot idea of love or something to that effect.

To me rains bring a feeling of freedom, independence and free spiritedness. It’s a childhood thing I guess. My mum tells me that when I was a little kid, I never gave up on catching the little droplets from our washroom tap. Not too fancy an idea I know, but I guess my persistence didn’t fail me even when I am all grown up.

It’s one of my secret wishes to stand in the middle of the rain and lift my head high up while extending my arms wide open (while not doing the tipsy turn) so that I don’t miss the feel of any, each and every drop of rain. The idea of doing so makes me feel like a bird going to take its first flight and gives me the adrenaline rush of a free fall. To some it might be immature-ish , childish behavior. But to me that’s the very essence of my existence- Freedom.

So this time when it started raining in my not-so-huge college campus, I decided to walk it slow to my hostel room. I noticed that everybody around me was running either for a shed or to their respective hostels. I was sure it were the rains that triggered such a reaction but I never understood why. Is it that people simply don’t enjoy rain? Now that, to me, is sad. Or is it because they are all grown up and regard getting deliberately drenched as an immature behavior? That is sadder because here they are also stereotyping the behavioral tendencies of grown ups.

So what is it about getting drenched that makes it so immature-ish? The sole fact that a person does what he feels like at the exact moment when he feels like doing it without caring about the people around him, I guess. That is how a child behaves and people actually find it cute then. As a child grows up, he learns to differentiate good from bad, dreams from reality through experiences and practicality. As he grows further he learns to follow a set of certain societal norms that dictate to him social etiquettes, which is all justified but this is definitely not one of those situations.

There is never a need for “bringing out the child” in oneself as long as you retain his innocence, individuality and maverick- ness. Maybe not all the time but sometimes is good enough. Learn to lose your inhibitions because there is never a need for self containment if free spirit is your virtue and innocence is your vice.

So get out jumping in the rain, kick your muddy shoes up high and have an awesome day ahead!

Similar Banter

2010-07-08T14:54:00.000+04:00

So quiet in the lone of dark,

Wish I could tear this silence apart.

Noises rattling my empty head,

Vapours of my memories evaporating so fast.

Familiar faces back in dead.

Passing emotions barely read.

Blasts of bizarre piercing my eyes;

So more of many untraced, unsaid.

Fading familiarity in trusting eyes,

Folded arms where once I lay.

Ambushed cornered self betrayed,

Where those were broken were also made.

A moment once cherished yet lost in time.

Limp emotions unjustified.

Virtual truths and comforting lies,

Unborn thoughts of those buried alive.

And yet another day foregone,

Lamenting about the day before.

Contempt unvoiced for the day that’s after,

Everyday‘s not a fight but a similar banter.

Let Me Not to The Marriage of True Minds - William Shakespeare

2010-07-02T04:08:00.000+04:00

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

Oh, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the start to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

Love’s not Time’s fool, through rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle’s compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved.

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Why Regret?

2010-06-12T03:22:00.000+04:00

“Because no battles are ever won” he said, “they are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an allusion of philosophers and fools.”

Some people just enter your life and some randomly slip into it. With some people you have to make extra efforts while some become a part of your existence so effortlessly. With every new person that enters your life, the equation you have with the others who already are a part of it changes. Irrespective of how random your feelings are towards any or all of them, each and every person you meet or accidently run into has a role to play. I also believe that however painful it is but each of them exit your life at some point or the other. What makes some people special is whether they care to come back or not. And what makes some people more special than the others is whether they do.

At least that is what I believe in.

Sometimes we meet people who we want should be a part of the super special clan. We want them so badly in our lives that we over analyze situations. We mix emotions and fumble with words we could convey so comfortably to people who mean absolutely nothing to us. We see more, we feel more, we sense more and we fear much more.

So when these special people choose to leave, we let them walk away because we love them so.. so much. We stand and wait till that one last time they turn around for that one last glance. We secretly search for that one look that would plead us to make them stay. But because of our inherent fear of rejection, lack of reciprocation or simply being the hot topic for societal grapevine we are tricked into believing that we should not or don’t have the “right” to stop them. And so we don’t.

We wait a little longer until they are completely out of sight and gone out of our lives forever. We don’t give up even when everything that matters is crumbling inside. We are so blinded by this fear that we choose to remain silent than give away the insecurities without realizing that a chance can be taken because both of them come at an equal cost.

We learn to laugh, we move on with time but we regret and feel guilty for the unknown. In the darkness of that empty room we find the strength to face that darkness within us that is too afraid to face the light of reality. We dream, we reminisce and we remember the old times; that one last look, the final glance, the lingering after the last kiss - the moment when everything around us froze. But we don’t do anything to get it back.

A person can either want to be a part of someone’s life or not. It’s a choice – a black or white one. What we don’t realize is that it is a choice that both the counterparts make. If you want them in your life then why not stop them? It might be too late but it is the one who is being left who has to decide whether the one leaving is worth the try. People who choose to stay will do anything to do so and those who do not are better off not returning back again. Similarly, people who dare to stop them from leaving are the ones who are worth returning to.

It’s only after they have left that we realize that sometimes moving on is not an option and some goodbyes really are forever.

So don’t worry if you are right or wrong, make a choice today. Hold on to your super special someones and tell them how much you need them in your life. Fight with them but then hug them before they turn away. Love them when they least deserve it because that’s when they need it the most. Don’t wonder whether you have the right to. Demand what is rightfully yours; and also those who rightfully belong to you.

Dare to dive because many those who fear the fall are crippled already. Count your blessings because you are truly blessed for having fallen. Make mistakes but don’t regret them because at one point of time it was really what you wanted and did it exactly how you wanted to. Remember the tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it.

Have an awesome day ahead!

Harry Nilsson - Over The Rainbow

2010-05-25T04:44:00.000+04:00

Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high

There's a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue

And the dreams that you dare to dream

Really do come true

Someday I'll wish upon a star,

And wake up where the clouds are far behind me

Where troubles melt like lemon drops,

Away above the chimney tops

That's where you'll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly

Bird fly over the rainbow, why then, oh why can't I

If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow,

Why, oh why can't I?

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

2010-04-12T20:34:00.000+04:00

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Judge Me Tender ..

2010-03-31T02:35:00.000+04:00

They judge me when they see me oneth, they judge me by my walk.
They judge when I am hush or voiced for I may or might not.
They judge and discriminate me by color and design.
The jibes confining in singulars my persona, infinite.

They judge me when they see me twoth, they judge my act of voice.
They judge the glitter in my eyes, if the warmth doth suffice.
They judge me when they see me lone; they judge me by my friends.
They judge me as they fancy wise. The story never ends.

You may like or choose to not, but it’s not a constant wit;
For some or more others of not your tang may fancy it.
See me not from my own eyes but from those that of any.
See and judge me if need be, as whole not sum of many.

Wherefore would ye inflict a such indeed but to perhaps?
For you too share same shoes as mine, just as all mayhap.
Oh! How I wish I were no man, no thing or no device.
Why, don’t you think it were a bliss if one could get a twice?

Server Not Found!

2010-03-23T15:41:00.000+04:00

Life seems much more uncomplicated when you look at it from a third person’s perspective. Every problem seems so solvable. Remember the last time you visited your best friend, over a cup of coffee that you made for her and a few wet tissues.

Or more?

Remember how you took out an invisible magic wand from your brand new Gucci bag and made her despairs disappear by just a touch of your brilliant verbal skills and a talent similar to that of an agony aunt that nobody really appreciated or paid for?

{Sometimes I wonder whether she (Agony aunt) was ever involved with a man. Because then she would know that none of her advices really worked in the real world, probably because her column was as much read by the guys (for a good laugh) as much as it was read by the girls for uh.. never mind.}

So lately, the little imperfections that I thought made my life perfect were starting to get to me. Last few days had started to feel like somebody had jinxed them with utmost bad luck and hence the remorse followed. I had been so deeply depressed about so many different things going just in the direction opposite to what I had planned. Considering this was not happening for the first time, I decided to let the phase pass. I guess it is true that when you think about something so much it sends out a message into the cosmic world. And that is from where I believe my jinxer heard me.

So, the phase never passed and life started to get frustrating. It still is, trust me. MBa is not an easy task. With all the competition and the relative grading, it is but natural for you to feel like a complete loser amidst a group of the supposed know-it-alls .

Just to avoid this feeling I put my thoughts to sleep early along with the rest of me. So, today, like many other days I woke up waiting for a better day ahead. Frankly nothing about the morning felt great or even good enough. Even looking outside the window at the green brought back nothing. (Talk about beautiful nature refreshing your mind, guess mine is on a standby. So, nothing affects it.) The greens were tempting so I decided to take my ass outside for a walk. I did feel better but little did I know that I was in for a revelation!

During breakfast, I met a friend with whom I had a conversation pending. Amidst all the yapping and fervent topic switching, in him I realized a potential for agony aunt. The fact that he was male by gender did not make him any less competitive. While most agony aunts “solve” all our problems with just a snap of fingers, he happened to make my problem sound easy with less than an effort required to snap the fingers. I could see a whole different league of agony aunts dwelling in him; the ones who did not advice but helped you see the problem from a different perspective altogether. He, whose life seemed so perfectly sorted out in all fronts, was struggling with compromises in other facets of life.

Remember how people say nobody’s life is perfect? Well, it’s true. We as humans are either generalists or specialists in the different fields of our life- family, love, marriage, career, friends etc. The specialists gain success in only one field of their life. He might not be the best at that field either but nothing beats the satisfaction of the taste of your own success. A generalist is just about good at all facets of life. Mediocre as you might call it. It’s a tough call deciding to be either of them.

Would you be okay with a successful career and nobody to share it with? Or would you be okay with having somebody to share your ordinary life with? Difficult decision to make.

Just like how nobody can tell whether the pain of delivering a baby is more than getting hit hard in your balls because nobody gets to experience both, nobody gets to decide whether being a specialist is better than being a generalist. You might be able to decide on one of them but what you choose would only be a reflection of what you are living right now. The truth is that neither of these options would give you what you want because getting it all is not an option. But how does it matter, we don’t get the option to choose do we?

As far as my problem is concerned , it puts me in one of the above categories. The depression has subsided knowing that other category might not be what I want either or not want at all. After all sometimes not getting what you want the most, is a wonderful stroke of luck.

Ever watched butterfly effect? Watch it. Awesome movie!

And oh! Have an awesome day ahead!

Leisure by Willian Henry Davies

2010-03-19T21:30:00.000+04:00

" No time to turn at Beauty's glance, and watch her feet, how they can dance. No time to wait till her mouth can, enrich that smile her eyes began. A poor life this if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare."

- William Henry Davies

A wonderful piece of poetry, and a very famous one indeed. Despite being written in 1911, its message is so contemporary and seems so apt even in today's world where we have forgotten to press that pause button that our life does offer. How many of us have even located that option? Or tried to explore it?

We preserve memories through memoirs and wish we could rewind time to that one wonderful moment that could never come back. Then why not pause and live it when it is alive? With so many new things to learn and so many old things to remember, we have started to need materialistic reminders of our moments. What's funny is people are making business out of it. You have memoirs that you can take home with you after you visit that place you have always wanted to visit with a special someone. In Singapore, they etch your picture on a fake ostrich egg and sell your moment to you. Does that ostrich egg make the memory more special? No, it doesn't. You were probably so busy getting that picture clicked right and getting it etched just the way you wanted to that you dismissed the little details of that moment that could not be captured at all. Those that you have missed are what will not come back.

The life we lead today is like an odourless dish. You can taste it, and maybe it tastes bloody damn good but you cannot savour that smell that makes your mouth water. It is the smell of the dish that makes you want it like you have never wanted it more or that triggers the taste buds that give you sheer pleasure just by biting into it.

Undoubtedly we have become busier today than we were yesterday, or for that matter as people were in 1911, but we need to understand that it is us who have made our lives the way it is. Nobody asked us to work extra time or work so hard. But we want to be at the top. We want success, money and we want to be the best. Greedy as we are, but we cannot neglect our basic need for love. The virtue of attachment and care exist and are as much a part of reality as you and me are.

And so while we are on our way to the top, we meet people who are not family. Sometimes we like them and sometimes we don't. Generally those that we like are our colleagues and those that we do not, are our bosses. Or otherwise. But how much does that matter to us? We push them out of our way irrespective of what we feel for them. Is it survival instinct or competition? In today's world, there is no difference between the two. There is no line, no boundary, no rules and those who judge are one of our kinds.

So, how do we deal with it? We become one of them and we fight. We become a part of the rat race. We learn to differentiate our products but unlearn to differentiate amongst ourselves and our personal diversities that make us unique in own way.

We live away from our family till we make it big. We think we have plenty of time to spend together once we have achieved what we want. But what if we don't have that much time. We want to make them proud and we outperform the expected to prove ourselves to the world. Irrespective of whether we do it or not, we are scared and insecure inside that what if we fall or fail or end up leading a mediocre life. But what is so wrong about a mediocre life?

The essence of happiness lies in the people who make you happy. And if your mediocre life gives you time to notice the love in your mother's eyes or the twitched smile on your father's face when he lies to your mum about the dress fitting her perfectly well; if your mediocre life gives you time to call up your best friend whom you haven't spoken to in years or take your special someone out on the day you planned to, then what is so mediocre about that life? At the end, you gather what you can preserve as long as you live and take it along when you don't. Could anybody be more successful than that?

So when you go back home this time, devour the moments you spend with your loved ones. (Not just the food but also the one who makes it). Don't just feel them, live them. And while you are on your way back, appreciate the things around you. Because they don't just exist but co- exist with your existence. They are beautiful in their own way. And so are we. Regain your aesthetics, gather them, hold them, keep them, guard them and preserve them. Reflect upon them, so that people do just the same. After all behavior is nothing but a monkey act!

Have an awesome day ahead!

Being A Nobody

2010-03-10T13:41:00.000+04:00

It takes great strength in being a nobody and being okay with it. Staying away from unwanted attention might be something that certain people wish for but knowing that there is absolutely not a soul around you who cares or possibly could care is a scare. Most of the people slip into deep depression out of loneliness and some arrange for random hook ups to avoid the fear of ending up lonely. Some remain spinsters with a hope of finding their special someone or soul mate, as they would like to call it, while some compromise with somebody rich or good looking, or neither, for the fear of not finding even that bit later in life. I fear what they take home with them at the end of the day is nothing less than loneliness. It’s not a wonder why most of many marriages fail.

So what makes me okay with it? Is it because I am used to it? I guess not. Maybe it’s the dream world I live in where everything is perfect. I am perfect. Often I fantasize to myself, that everything in life has been set right. I am happy and the people I love are happy and safe. The people around me care and nothing could ever go wrong with so much of so many things going just the way they should be. One word for all of it – Perfect. Generally I doze off to sleep thinking about it. Or if I don’t, I get so bored, actually sick of it since I have set so many things right that there is nothing more that I would want to change. So, I stop thinking about it and start to appreciate the little or not so little imperfections in my life. Frankly speaking, it is these imperfections that keep me going, that keep my life well, we can say… interesting.

To me, at least.

Despite of being a nobody, even if given a choice, I would not want to trade my life with a Michael Jackson or a Princess Jasmine. Now being that kind of lonely is a scare to me. Contrary to those who are publically popular and actually lonely, I am more of publically lonely and actually popular types. I’ll tell you what that means. It’s true that the people around me do not care but those who care, really do. They might not be always around but they make their presence felt from wherever they are. They know me the way I really am and they appreciate it. And to me that matters the most. To me that is perfection!

It is true that the little imperfections in your life are the ones that make it so perfect. Anybody would accept you if you were perfect. It is those who accept you with these imperfections who really care. So, appreciate the imperfections in others for that is what makes them more human than anybody else. Aim for improvement and not a delusional concept of perfection. Look at the bigger picture, notice the small details and the subtle hints. Value the imperfections in yourself for they are a part of you. You are worthy of all the appreciation in this world for being just the way you are.

Once you begin to do that, you’ll be a proud somebody to someone. Not a compromise, a real keeper!

Have an awesome day ahead!

For once, Then, Something by Robert Frost

2010-03-08T21:37:00.000+04:00

Others taught me with having knelt at well-curbs

Always wrong to the light, so never seeing

Deeper down in the well than where the water

Gives me back in a shining surface picture

Me myself in the summer heaven godlike

Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.

Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,

I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,

Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,

Something more of the depths--and then I lost it.

Water came to rebuke the too clear water.

One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple

Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,

Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?

Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.

My Space

2010-03-05T13:32:00.000+04:00

My name is Sheen. And this is my blog; my space where I can write about anything that interests me and if you are lucky enough, interests you as well. Just a few somethings about me – I am a student, currently "mastering" business management in the wonderful city of Pune, India.

I love listening to music and singing along. I absolutely love dancing (and by that I do not promise being any good at it) and doing a lot of other things which I'll talk about with time. But what I love the most is the people I sing with, dance with or do none of these with. I do write, so this is nothing new to me. Just to make it clear that the motive behind this blog is not to experiment with you, the poor soul’s, mind but may be to provoke some thoughts out of the mere nothings that provoke a series of thoughts in my head.

Or not…

As I said, this is my space and I write about whatever.

Currently my life is as interesting as that of a beaver’s, swimming in a pile of my course books, sometimes even mistaking their cover to be a log of wood and biting at them with the hope of some insights falling into me. Well, not literally of course...

I am blessed with a lot of amazing people in my life. And I thank God for it every single day. I have a very loving and caring family; a strikingly brilliant stunner, my dad and bedazzling bright beauty with unmatchable talents, my mum and of course the one who reaps all the benefit of their good looks and smartness, my brother ( Anybody interested? )(In just the brother…) . Also, I have some wonderful friends and some special ones as well. All of them are so very far away and I miss them plenty. In this blog I am going to talk about them.. a lot.

Or not...

But this is just the first blog, and I was just supposed to say hello, which I have said in exquisite details. So I shall see you later, probably different time but same space.

Have an awesome day ahead!