Thursday, March 31, 2011

The Duce! A Jerk Just Stole The Moon

Like just another day
It was morning when I woke up
Just another mine day
Nigh Night just another mine day
The final countdown
Decode this lyrics " You'll see "
"Wonderful wonderful"
"Wonderful life"
"Time after time"
"Don't know much"
"Wonderful world"
"Just another day"
"What a wonderful world"
"Mama mia"
"Nobody told me"
"The Great Commandments"
"The Final Countdown"
"I can see clearly now"
"Live and let die"
"You only live twice"
"Diamonds are forever"

Is this is crazy, Or am I?

A vermilion sky
Sunrise or sunset?
Something blue in the offing
Is it sky or a sea?
An earth in my eye
an eye ball or a galaxy?
A plant grown to a green tree
Am I standing on a mountain or a platue
Which one is true?
A knack IN things?

A globe in demise?

Is this crazy, or am I?

Saturday, March 19, 2011

When Nature Looses Rhythm….

Once there were these combating nations, impinging on each other’s territory for sole purpose of invasion and self aggrandizement. Things grew, and countries took up battalion wars on a global sphere with each other. Well, the human race is seeing a constant growth, learning new ways of disrupting the harmony. Human is such a stuck up creation of god, that it cannot learn things without a firsthand experience with death. Human brought it on against the nature with its ferocity and inclemencies. Is it really that easy to go through the nature as it cannot virtually take up arms against the human breed? Nature has its own colours, and it can show the rest of the shades, beyond the lush green.

Is not the nature’s coup evident with what happened in Japan?

Nature has its rage, and it also has more than subtle ways of expressing it, to catch us off guard. We have tried to command it with our technologies. And the nature has foiled our plans with its superior ways of platonic moments and sluicing water cutting across the boundaries drawn by us for the nature. And it will happen over and over again, across the countries and their achievements.

It was just last year when I travelled Kedar Tal, and the Ganga River was as invisible as it never existed. A project of damn constriction was up, for which the flow of water was ceased. It moved me inside profoundly to see it. The beautiful trail, with sky fathoming mountains, used to swing in the movement of the flow of River Ganga. And everything without that dynamism of stream had come to a standstill. The tall mountains appeared so scary and gothic. I wondered if there was any end to the voracious needs of human beings.

There is a rhythm in nature, which flows and speaks through symmetry. Starting from the anatomy of our body, where our breath is tuned with our feelings. We tend to breath heavy with a passion of rage, we breath slow when we are low inside. Even in the cliché of love, your other half tends to lose the heat of love, with our constant neglection. Nature has lost its rhythm with the constant atrocities it has been brought to.

Is not nature just too beautiful and adorable the way its is.......?

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

An Ode To Harry

I didn’t believe in a die hard friendship, with a note of thanks to my horrendous experiences with girls at least. So, I never had a true friend. But as I take a look back in life, I understand, I always made false choices. And its there that I can find a base for my no-friend attitude resting.

As I see my life moving today, I find that there is a constant spring absorbing stresses of my life. Someone, with whom I can talk out literally everything, pester her mercilessly at any hour (irrespective of day and night), and spend each day with her, constantly chatting though we have way different fields of work. I don’t have to have a topic to kick up a conversation. I don’t have to behave smart, and I can live in fullest freedom of thought and emotions, with a constant growth in me.

This little sprite has been with me through the college, and I am proud to own her friendship since what has been 6 good years. And I chance to cherish every day I spend laughing it out with her like raving mad! sharing more serious topics, ideas of freaking out on a wayward holiday, or just mocking someone who has something to do with our humour for the moment.

Well, her name ‘happens ‘to be Harmeet, though I prefer calling her Hariya, or Harry when decency so requires. She was always there with me in college, as the most important part of my life outside. And I was too stuck up to see that. Whenever I wanted a friend by my side, she was there, when I wanted a true friend and a seriously intelligent suggestion, I had it from her. She shouted at me 1000 time for being stupid, we fought, and still loved each other anyways. She is a very precious friend for me.. With her adorable killer messages, flamboyant attitude and a nose in air for everyone who deserves that.

Something I love about her is her bohemian laughter, which she manages to bring about when I could have done something to repent later (I am sure you got the import harry). And who can forget that ‘Yo Baby Yo” as she takes up a phone call!

And man she is so cool ….
A perfectly oxymoronic person
Decided views and a random life!
Beat that !

A perky little friend,
Jumping, capering and ideas broiling in her head,
There is a true friend in you harry.
Loads of love and an ode to your friendship …

Saturday, March 12, 2011


Show me in the effacing effects,
Show me into the blank word.
Into the spaceless stretch of space.
I stand next to a mirror.
A reflexion of a mirage,
Faceless I look here.
Significance unconstrued.
Silence an inner shriek.
Melting the mirror,
Of a conceited glass.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

A Weekend with Jane Eyre

To My Diary ….

It’s three in the night, and I am supposed to be sleeping like everyone else. No? But there is something about night, personal, close, intimidatingly intimate. There is something particularly close as I feel the touch of the lamp’s heat on my skin. The smell of the old book,.. and a tear rolls down my eye, following to the cheek, and the page swells as it absorbs it.
The characters who had been hidden under the pages of the book come alive at night, in full force and freedom. Under the lampshade of my room, from the fragrance of the old book and an older world, as Rochester walks away, he carries something of me with him… and as Jane cries, I feel the heart and the pain of loss…. And I never want the morning to break into my dream..