The cryptic life!!

The cryptic life of mine.. or may be I am keeping it that way. A crappy introverts dreams, where he realizes the need to be an extrovert. Atleast a dream or escapism from himself. A thrust, a pretence to find confluence to fullfill his minds orgasmic nature. Clomping memoirs where he realizes that what he lived is not what he needed. His extensive need to gain the things that he lost or those things that he never tried to get or what he saw in others, an exotic life where he is free to express his feelings, to open his mad mind, his heart to every one. 

But it is all dreams, an exhilarated life which is unspeakable. Sorry it is no discourtesy to his life but a trance of an agitated minds tedious puke which fumble its way towards the distorted heaven. But all this in a furtive but vogue beliefs which he aquinted from the society where he is forced to pretend that he is one of them. While other lounge their presence in the society he fumbles in between the mind and the society. 

Some time he flinches by the way others react but still keep the belief that he aquired from his tiring life. He is afraid of the people around him, a fear of social consciousness. May be his acts will cause a ludicrous effect on others. 

Ya it is just the fear of the dangerous abuse prevailed around him. He want to take an errand towards the mythical (for him) fruits of a sinisterous, fearless life. A deception to his own shackless life… may be lot of grammer mistakes. I am in no mood to correct it.. anyway it is all dreams… dreams are always grammar-less with lot of spelling mistakes!!!

The undefined deviance of lff..

Thinking about the past.. I should have done few thing and should not have done something. But I am afraid the weight is more on the one which I should have done. Lost lot of things, lost love or I denied myself from that? Crap!!! Good that I am forgeting things so fast..

I understand the sarcastic miseries of life playing anomalous tyranny on me. The dominance which cannot be pacified by the outcries of obsolete present. Framed by words, framed by emotions, framed by distance, the result is all the same.

Pulling down the deep proportions of the past, the dilemma still remains. Crucify me for the imminent mistakes, bury me for the misleading comments. I may not resurrect, I may not phoenixfied, but I may lay down in the memoirs, as what? Dont Know!! May be it is not the time yet. May be its high time. Its been on and off in my mind, bit by bit.

Hold me tight, hold me to heart. I am falling, catch me.

Aghh.... The undefined deviance of lff..

The First Love

I started forgetting her. I don't know how she looked like, not very well.

Years blew over.

I remembered her when I picked up this book.

Like an unread inland letter, Like a speechless play,

Like the calmness in the deep ocean, Like an unknown desert,

Like a window opened to eternity, Like a back door retreat,

Like a tremble in the breeze, Like a reflection in the mirror,

Like a silent song, Like the beauty of shh,

Like the lesion of my heart, Like a fallen leaf in spring...

Like an aviated bubble, which bust in mos.

Salvo. Aggh, the first love.

I remember very well.

Conversation were minimal, we liked it that way.

That One Lover!!

Why you asked me to love,

Holding my debile fingers,

Even after knowing, you will get

A more forte lover than me?

Why so when you know,

I have a broken heart,

Which is bleeding and

Have nothing more to give?

Why you came so far,

Searching only for me?

Dead in the memories, I have

Kept nothing for you to give.

Allas all these, I knew

You will come one day.

I used to remind myself,

You are there some far far away.

But walking through the darkness,

In this balmy moonlight night,

Oh, my dear death,

I never expected you tonight.

Aghh... then I relaxed to myself.

There is one lover, the only lover,

We all can expect for sure,

And her arrival is placid.

"Does those leaves got wet?"

The wind was blowing. Like mad.

But I wonder why the leaves in those trees were unshaken?

"Can that happen?"

"No. It can’t." I said to myself.

I asked my Grandma.

She showed me Colocasia leaves.

She carefully poured water all over it.

"Does those leaves got wet?" She asked me.

She smiled at my speechlessness and walked away...

Reeling through the reels of life.

Its been one year since I wrote something here. I was destitute of imagination/need/encouragement? Don’t know. I believe I was just lazy. Do I have anything in my mind to write? Nopes.. nothing as of now. May be I have a lot of things inside me which I don’t want to write. Between those white patches of clouds I see outside reminds me of reverberating proclamation of peace. And the fog, its just the reflection of those clouds. Why I am talking about peace? What is peace to me? Ok, let me make it clear, its just another word which just echoed around me. Just like that.

Again, I stumbled at one point. I realized at the next. Slithering back to me, the earlier position. Why am i writing? Because I am expected to? Because I want to? Because I am forced to? None of above, Because I love to & Because I am more expressive while writing. Everyone need to let out their emotions, feelings in one way or another. Its not necessary that what you write is your life but its always necessary that it has you in it, in one way or another.. at least as a spectator. Hmm… mostly as a spectator. Reeling through the reels of life, these writings are just the tip of the iceberg. Alas, if I could show the submersed part. Yes, a shit load of happiness and inaccurately flowing river of sorrows.

Right now bowing in front of amazingly undefinable voice of Pandit Bhimsen Joshi. Now his voice will spread peace in heaven.

Dont know, when next.