The Thumb Rule!

"Why do one have to always hurt the ones you love? And consciously so?" She asked.

I never had answer for that. You know why!

The woods were dark and must be cold. I could see fact and fiction blended in her eyes!  The silence, skipping the painful phrases. I am used to it now, I think. I preferred to think that I didn't see, I didn't hear.

The bizarre mind.. I believe now it is pretty usual, is int it? I don’t feel like not to. I am lost and you are loosing me. She is not getting words. So? What is it for me? Better avoid it..!

She should understand I am already lost in never forgetting dreams and ever remembering days. Now expecting the worst and hoping the best, hope.. ya still hoping. ?? 

No, seriously.

Terrified by the forbidden dreams, I may loose the sanctification. Thy thoughts sanctified my dreams, thy dreams sanctified my solitude. Let me complete the palpitation. Let me close this chapter. I cannot withstand it any more, I cannot withstand you…rather say your dreams. I have the painful dreams of this joyful solitude…. What else to dream, to remember, to forget?

Somebody please tell her this thumb rule. Things will change. They always do. And learning to let go has been the lesson always....!! 

"You are so cruel"

Isn't it ironic that the only person who can make you happy is the same person who makes you sad & lonely? The fact is sometimes, by holding on too tight, you end up losing what you were trying so hard to save. Soap, for example. There comes a time when u have to stop remembering your past and move on. No regrets in life, just lessons. Don't expect too much. It's always better to feel surprised than to feel disappointed. 

Oh dear, why a monologue again? Cheesy. The myriad of confusion to the society? 

The congeries of emotional licking. Its not about what happened, its all about why happened. What is so obvious, but not why. People are not satisfied by the creamy layer, they edaciously dig for the mud and rust. Everyone has their own reasons. As some one said, your right may not be mine or vis versa. Alas, I understand, people are made to be loved, things are made to be used, the confusion in this world is that people are being used, things are being loved.

My sublime arguments ends here. I don’t deserve it anymore.. I don't belong to it anymore. I am cursing myself. Each time a heart broke, I reminded myself.. you will get a reward for this.. soon. Don’t know where this will end. Go away from me, I the one who hurts. Before you feel the pain, before you feel empty, before you feel that you got used, go away from this painful melancholy or you will get absorbed to it. Let me fall back to my solitude..so no one get hurt.. just me. My mind filled with dark clouds, spitting thunders every now and then. Yes it hurts. Lot. The more you try to console, the more it kindle the wounds. I am sorry, it was not intentional. hahaha… what an excuse.

I just wrote everything, everything around me, about me..truthfully. I may loose myself in it, may forget what I wished to be mine.. Like the many a thing which I already forgot. But again one thing I clearly remember, she used those long pauses in her conversations. Like in those long distance telephone calls. I know I will forget this also one day! And now I will borrow her ever favorite line, with a smile once she told me contentedly,  "You are so cruel". Yes, She was kidding. No.

                          

Beautiful land of sunshine and laughter!

Are you sure that you are in the other land, the so called “beautiful land of sunshine and laughter”.. if yes.. you mean you betrayed your heart/soul for the sheer achievement of vitamin K (from sunlight) and prolonged life (Laugh more,live more). 

I believe it is utter failure that you didn't realize, this is life & there is no other land, ya of course, we are in search of the land where we may (at least we wish) find pleasure of every kind may be you are just dreaming. 

The way which you wheedled me towards your covets (presumably), through your last notes explaining me the wonderful world of so called beautiful… reckon either you dream always about it or you are in the same LAND, still with a ashamed (presumably) face hidden behind an anonymous smile.

I am not awed by a confused mind.. rather than leaving it to incarcerate by the life, I prefer to mutilate my heart to crave for a freedom from my mind mostly when I am drunk because I have enough things to think about otherwise.. may be about a LAND .

It is much more painful than it is now but I love it that way. At least none to be bothered about. It is me and me only.

Pathetic issues and inability to differentiate between the reality and laughable. The forgetfulness of this night. Being at a position that you ever want to re-read the same statement, more or less the same. Captured by the things that is hated more than u enjoy. I calls it back, I effing calls it back. 


Bloody thoughts, the perishing soul, the morality and my heart. The bites of sharp teeth. Go now, it is time for you to leave. From this atrocious, abominable breaths. 

Over. Move on...

Another year, another one to forget, another one to remember. A lot of changes, new ways, new faces. It just went away, as few of them wished, it was a good one but a small one. The ending was perfect, even though with overwhelming solitude which I always loved or may be it is a beginning, a perfect one. Never believed in celebrations, never had one whenever I wished. I love this evening, I love this night, with a full moon adding to the cold. Few stars here and there wishing me, I believe. Darn I am not able to take a pic of it, too lazy to go up to the terrace in this cold. 

I want to love this, give me a reason to love. The bubbles hurrying up to escape, let me take another sip, let me kill the show. As usual another year blessed by dreams, a few unexpected and few exceptional. The fragrance is still around. May I take a dip in to it. May I engulf its soft sweetness for a few min. For how long? heh yet another dream. An attempt to be free, I wish this be real. A bitter happiness with a better sorrow. The fragrance just touched me with another wish. 

My year end always (as if I had many to remember aargh!) filled with wishes for someone else… How can I even compare. At least I am blessed with that. As usual it was as usual. The bubbles are still tempting me to write more. It is the same road, the one which I traveled all these years, come on you can make it. ha..where? Another fascinating year? Anything new is fascinating…alas let it be. It’s over now, it’s all over. Don’t hope, just wish. aah… it’s the end, another two sips, I am done. Few minutes to cross the border. Still the night is mine.. only mine. I am searching.. everywhere, still..another year, another one to forget, another one to remember... Always like to remember 2011 in 3 Words. "Over. Move on..."

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.

You... Complete me!

"So I never felt her absence."

In rainy weather the streets turned to red slop, grass grew on sidewalks. The life too busy. My stiff collors wilted by nine in the morning. Thats what life demands. A day was 24hours long but seemed much longer. Hurry hours, for there was no where to go. "Jeena Yehaan, Marna Yehaan iske siwa jaana kahaa!!" Sung this song n-number of times.

Nothing to buy, nothing to see outside the boundaries. Nothing to fear, but fear itself. Enjoying life secretly, without even letting life know about it. The most revolutionary act one can commit - To be happy. Yes I'm happy, though I miss lot which life knowingly kept hiding. Life said 'Mutual feelings'

Home, Occasionally. Friends, Never. Coffee, Being a life saver, no way. School/college, thats my own nostalgia. Love, I love 'milkmaid'. Travel, I know good travelers are not planners. Alas, nothing of this sort is a miss to me.

I keep denying the truth that I don't know that what is it that gnaws at me all time.

Searched. Explored. Checked. Didn't find. Failed.

Out of the blue, in a dream the other night, I found out. Yes it was You.

Along the road of truth "I miss her absence." Realized, you are the meanest and loveliest person God has ever blown air into.

Yes, You... Complete me, and I miss You.

Something that is Remembered.

Some body just hit me with a memory pillow. I'm quite scared now. I'm shattered. Yes yet again.

I was wrong. Thought I came out of everything. Not yet, feel atleast in this lff I can't. I'm sure. The heart that truly love never forgets. I love being positive. When someone you love become a memory, that memory become a treasure. *Sigh*

An Antique love story

I was busy cleaning a dusty shelf on grandma's room. This is one thing I love to do once I reach home on every vaccation. It's damm interesting. I always get some treassure to cherish when I do that. It may be some old coins, stamps, some wonderful inland letters filled with love sent by her brothers in some late '80s or some very old family photos. Whatever they be, I treassure them to future. I love doing that.

Between the numerous dusty books on the shelf, a photo tumbled to the floor through my eyes. It was an old photograph. Black and white, slowly yellowing on the edges. I took the photograph but couldn't recoganise the man in it. It was already a wounded photo. The 'Man' had a turban over his head and no mustach. You can say he posed like Swami Vivekanada, with folded hands. He looks very young, may be 25 years. I was sure, this man is not from my family. Aggh....I felt so!!

After a good homely bath, I sat next to grandma, showed her the photograph. She took it and gazed carefully. I couldn't trace out the emotions on her wringled face. I heard some whisper from her. It sounds like a name "Mahan Nambuthiri".

"Mahan Nambuthiri?? What is that?" I wonder. (Later I read 'Mahan Nambuthiri' is a title or some thing similar given to the son of a Nambuthiri family, ummh... quiet interesting.)

Without answering my question she continued "He was the most brilliant in the class. A great student who always top the college. He was the apple in eyes of teachers. He was known for his instant poems. He always get the first prize for poem writing..,blah blah blah...."

I could find exitment in my granny's face as she gone praising him non-stop. I was getting a fire from her. An unknown spark was getting to her eyes that she was not hiding, rather she couldn't hide. It was just like a glint of sunlight through the clouds.

Without giving me any chance to speak she walked away from me with that photo. As she walked I noticed her eyes was still on that photograph. I knew what I saw a few seconds before in her eyes was the true passion of love. Yes, probably 'Mahan Nambuthiri' was her first love! Very often we cherish this memories alot, sometimes idealise them, remember first love as something innocent and fragile.

What goes around, comes around!Like an old photograph, time can make the feeling fade, but the memory of the first love never fades away. She may have forget how she used to feel about him, but the memory of that first love is like an eternal sunshine.

As a sighed myself with a stretch, I thought to myself- 'This may probably be an argument for a life that never really was, but if such a life was there, probably my grandma got the nostalgia she would never lose-touched by an antique love of her life!'

Rough Draft

Sitting alone in room. By chance. It makes me happy! Being a slave of my own solitude. These are the very few moments I live as myself. Otherwise uh.... I'm expert in pretending...

I am not too sure!! Opened my laptop. I love the sound my fingers make on these keyboards. Beat of the heart and the *thug thug* on keyboard makes it a par superior song than any. I fear writing with inky pens on lucent white papers. My tears may wipe down my life in them. I don’t want that to happen. That's why I like the concept of typing. I bet on my tear, dare you wipe this out!

And to make it a perfect solitude, this is what I on the botton wanted. It was raining cats & dogs. Heaven pour down under. The rains of night are out of the ordinary. Along with the rejuvenation, it brings a lot of doting memories. Just closed my eyes in complete serene till a thunderbolt clout my ears. Loud roared the dreadful thunder. Under this window in stormy weather, reminds me of a night which was very much analogous to this one.

Have you ever had to talk to the person you loved most...tell them it's gonna be all right, when you know it's not? “Don't worry I'm always yours – touch wood” Even though she knew the end was closer; these were the words she rendered in my ears.

“Don’t worry my eyes only see you everywhere even if they are closed... – touch wood. You know, you are the best thing God has done to me ever in my life – touch wood!!!”

She continued. Holding my mouth with her hands not allowing me to utter anything.

“Don’t say that we are not meant for each other. It is just that we are not meant for anyone else. I don’t think I need to worry being happy as long as you are there with me. You are my dream. Without you there is no existence for me. Parting away from you is my death – touchhh…woo…”

She couldn't complete her much trusty omen, intended to reverse any bad luck that might come our way. She wept. I didn't stop her. She exploded.

First time in her I saw an incensed face of love. I saw all the hidden expressions of love that Wordsworth, Coleridge, Blake, Shelley, and Keats has immortalized.

I hold her closer. I wished to bring a little tranquil to her then effervescent mind.

I said “Oh dear, between us there is no you & me. Is there anything called your death & my death. It’s all ours. Even in death we will be together…”

The soft susurrus of conversation over her ears then was like this pouring rain outside my window tonight. I could calm down her tempest by those words.

“I will hear you even I have gone away from you…” That was her promise.

‘Perhaps tonight she is hearing me. May be this rain is propelled by her to calm down the storm in me…’ I am hoping.

Lff called a trump. I lost. I often question: Suppose we could begin life over again, knowing what we were doing? Suppose we could use one life, already ended, as a sort of rough draft for another??? *Sigh*

Colour me Love!

What about the colour of love? - Red..? White..?? Err...Pink?

"Confused huh...?"

Once I was more confused than you, when she asked me this!

She said "Its BLUE."

"Blue, why blue?" I wonder.

She had enough reasons to convince me.

She pointed me to the waves of desire in the world - ocean and the sempiternal sky above my head, and said

"Of all those that doesn't have an end is blue. So as our love, no end - its colour is the same blue..."

Back from the ashes...!!!

Something returned back. I heard someone laughing... felt someone crying. I saw my reflection in the mirror. Wounds of my yesterday were very clear. I know the reason, I am the reason.

"Does that hurts???"

This question realised me of the tacit agreement between my heart and body. My heart was no different from my body. Whenever it hurts, first instants - numbness overtakes my pain. It may be bleeding, but the pain was unknown. So was the case with my heart. Even yesterday numbness was ruling my heart, but today numbness is making way for pain...

The first time in my life I felt 'regret'. 'Regret !!!' Errr....!! This was once a word which I could not even spell. But today I feel its an integral part of my nightmares... I should have done little more to achieve... My memoirs even though transient, hurt my mind and force me to be seditious.

Its a very special scenario. Some people can’t be forgotten. They shouldn't be remembered either. They just exist in our lff, like Spam mails, that we keep on pulling to junk everyday and they keep on coming in inbox the next day.

Ppl said, I am getting 'more' emotional. I laughed! *Sigh!!*. Emotional and me?? I remember the story once my grandma said of 'Lord Shiva', who gone mad and 'jus roked the whole world' when he lost his 'life' in the form of 'Sathi'. Dare to compare that emotion with my emotion... ??!!

You may say aaghh...a granny story. I say, my life's also a story... & even yours..!!

If you try to see it from a second person's angle, believe me you can laugh even at your tragedies... Sometimes its real fun going to sleep and knowing I get to wake up tomorrow and I don't know whether I have a tomorrow? Life is strange.... may be that's why I love it. As if a stranger who sometime laugh at me, sometime stare in the face & some time put some mark as he passes by...

Today Lff to me is like a staring stranger... who watches carefully... My every single movement is under his surveillance... I hate being under some bodies surveillance but I have to live with it. That stranger is my Lff....

I don't want to concentrate much on that stranger...

Now, right now… finding a purpose and healing myself; mentally, physically, and emotionally... tats most important in my life......once I can do that,

I want again love to take over....!!!

A jump back to the known horizon, horizon of love... & then I say I'm back... 'Back from the ashes...!!'

" Get back from the ashes as soon as possible... "

" Very Easy.....?? "

" Don't know!! "

" Even I !! " :|

" n some people say 'nothing is impossible...'; 'the fast its better...' "

Whom the Gods love, die young!!!

"Please, can you tell his story?" She yelled.

He..., I met him first, some two years back in a train journey.

"Hello, what's with the black? You look like you're goin' to a funeral! " With no introduction this is how he started with me.

I never knew that, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. He's the kind of man who's got the sun in his eye when he laughs... The energy he transfers to the people around him is tremendous.

He never looked an Indian to me. Every thing was different in his case. His accent, his mannerisms, his thoughts, nothing resembled me of an Indian.

"What is your nationality?" I asked.

He answered "I'm a drunkard..., that makes me a citizen of the world"

That's the way he talks. Some may say he is the shah of blah blah.., but for me he is a scholar, a philosopher, a terrific teacher and of all the above, a brother.

Of the many fortunes & surprises I had in my lff, this was my greatest pleasure that he lived very close to my flat. We often go for long walks, me listening to his wonderfully crafted words and cheering him to talk more. I love to listen whatever he utters. That special he was to me. He talks a lot - lff, people, religion, country, children, poor, but strange not LOVE!

"Who is the girl in yo' mind?" Once I asked.
I was that sure, that he was/is in love. Don't ask me why!!

"Ask me, When you get there! " He replied back.
Hmmh! Diplomatist! I thought.

That night I couldn't sleep. 'When you get there, ask me!' that's what he said. I feared. Should I tell him?, I am already there, only but standing as a loser!!. Fear and wonder, powerful combination.
I came to this part of world to forget my past. But now I am thinking of reopening the junk files of my lff again!! Finally, I made up my mind. I will!

He was there in usual kick off place the next day. Unusually he was carrying a guitar.
We went to the near by garden. Silence over ruled our conversation, for the first time. We sat in the shadow. He smiled, started playing a song in his guitar.

"You must remember this,

A kiss is still a kiss;
A sigh is just a sigh;
The fundamental things apply as time goes by;

And when two lovers woo,
They still say, "I love you";
On that you can rely;
No matter what the future brings-...."

"You loved her deep, right?" he asked me, in btw.

"Yes!!!"

"You still love her?" He was still playing guitar.

"Yes!!! I didn't find any reason to hate, so I love!"

"You know an old saying -'One shouldn't sought glory as a lover... but cherish the moments that lasts a lifetime...' " he smiled & continued;
" I too had a love. I lost, or rather she died away from my lff. I too stopped living. For a while. That's easy: I'm dead." *pause* "And this is tuff: to live again. I started living again. When she was around, my love was only SHE. But today I started loving - these trees, flowers, skies, birds, and moreover I started loving myself!!" *Sigh!!* "So understand, as P Davis said - lff is just a chance to grow a soul..." He stood up and walked, I followed.

"The amount of positive energy I got in that conversation was immense. Even today I feel it..."

It was the hardest thing in my lff to say good-bye to him and move to another place. It was great pain,but as lff demands, one has to.

And today this is unfortunate and unexpected, as I screamed having a glance at today's newspaper.

"Even in those death columns, you keep your presence known" I wept.

I never knew which part of the world he lived after my departure.

I remember last time when he called me over, VoIP;

I asked "Where were you last night???"

"That's so long ago, I don't remember." I wasn't surprised with that answer.

Then I asked him with a laugh- "Where will you be tonight??"

His answer was even interesting- "I never make plans that lies far ahead!!"

That's how endings should be. No remnants!!