Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Need some peace of mind. Urgently!

This song was kinda solace... Do listen..(From Wake up Sid)
Can't write...aaarghhhh.Just can't.

O re manwa tu to bawra hai
Tu hi jaane tu kya sochta hai
Tu hi jaane tu kya sochta hai

Kyun dikhaye sapne tu sote jaagte
Jo barsein sapne boond boond
Nainon ko moond moond
Nainon ko moond moond
Jo barsein sapne boond boond
Nainon ko moond moond

Kaise main chaloon
Dekh na sakoon
Anjaane raaste

Goonja sa hai koi ektara iktara
Goonja sa hai koi ektara

Sun rahi hoon sudhbudh kho ke
Koi main kahani
Puri kahani hai kya kisi hai pata
Main to kisiki ho ke yeh bhi na jaani
Ruth hai yeh do pal ki ya rahegi sada
Kise hai pata
kise hai pata

Jo barsein sapne boond boond
Nainon ko moond moond
Nainon ko moond moond
Jo barsein sapne boond boond
Nainon ko moond moond

-Wake up Sid

Thursday, August 27, 2009

random muse

It's sad how easy it becomes to discard things once they are old and irrelevant to the present. Say, those old documents at my desk. I rummaged through the pile of files, folders, A4 sheets, colour prints, checklists... neatly put back the selected ones and rejected others.
Rejection becomes such an easy job when time has passed.
What point am I trying to make here? Nothing just an observation and attempt at understanding this typical behaviour.
These rejected ones were so precious few weeks ago. I thought I would sit at peace and go through them, absorb each element, understand and preserve each bit.

There are times when you know you wouldn't let go of something. But you never know, the future might see you indifferently get rid of the same, suppressing few wishes deep down, mechanically surrendering to situations or the idea of "moving on with times".

Those envelopes or gift wraps you had lovingly unravelled to find your gift by a special or not so special one, tucked the torn pieces safe into your shelf, looked at them time and again to relive the same warmth.. With time, you keep some reject few...why?because you can't keep them all na... Just like you need to sell off old newspapers..the same newspaper that had helped you explore the most surprising facts around the world..articles that had prompted you to discuss and debate and gift you the world in mere 2 to three bucks.

It gets so difficult to preserve all the memories that you had once vouched for.
Your first best friend at school, when you didnt even know what a best friend meant..who helped you learn your concepts by-heart by reading them aloud again and again , pestered her mother to pack your favourite food for lunch, voted for you as the class prefect! Today,years after, one scrap on orkut might just bring in memories of you and her, but what I find sad is how mute feelings can become with time which once screamed with promises of eternal bliss.

Yeah, you can give a new name to this rejection. Call it Priority. Time. Change. Plain Indifference?

Things take a backseat, life takes a back-seat...people change.. you adjust according to your convenience...at times let time and life take over than you taking over it...

Like I said..random muse! Never mind.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

come. let's explore.

Imagine, colouring a blank canvas the way you like it. With no one to dictate, or judge. The world and you are at sync...peace..and harmony...
Imagine, spraying the shades and hues all over the blankness and colouring your world crazily...just the way you like it..randomly, tangently, not adhereing to set patterns or rules...
Because, to have your own story you need to go that extra mile and spray the colours of emotions on to the blank sheet of your life just the way you like it..just the way your heart demands..
The colours may turn dark once in a while..or indecipherable..but that's no reason to stop believing.. or is it?

Monday, July 27, 2009

a walk to remember...

So well, they walked..and walked...and walked...
Like memories tugging on to them like a little kid, like moments dripping down the timeless togetherness, like words melting into the thin air with fond blushes.
The laughter echoed into the woods and pearls of sweet nothings waved into the foreverness ...
Fingers entwined, thoughts aligned, oh! at times not so aligned, but drenched in the essence of randomness..the beauty of dreams realized itself through that walk..
Time teased them, destiny chased with a wild vigour for answers.
But who cared, when all that mattered was..the power of freezing time. Standing still like a deep ripple-free ocean sleeping cozily without being disturbed.
The trees stood tall and the branches formed themselves into a bouquet..covering them..protecting them like a mother tenderly holding its child. The twinkle of the stars shone on their bright faces while they ran..like running against the rushing waves in a sea, holding each other like never letting go. Futility turned pale, shyed away, and visions of eternal moments danced to the tunes of triumph.

Moist eyes and warm hearts, shivering steps in the dreamy envelope of fog and mist.. the night growing silent ..intimidating but challenging..haunting in a beautiful way...
They paced down, and started walking again....like they had all the time in the world, like beauty stood for them with open arms as they trodded the streets with no names......like the never-ending roads stretched futrther to move away from their destinations. For they seeked no destination....no answer.....no deadline...they looked for nothingness in that moment of everything..they just wanted to melt like silhouettes before a sun, like elegance before fearless love, like lovers in the rain....

Monday, July 13, 2009

saazish hai boondon ki...

Here comes the the season of floaters, and capris and hot cappuccinos. The season of splashes and 'coming late to work' with loads of excuses, blaming poor rains for the delay.

The season of swimming across water-clogged roads (eww!) and watching people on the streets a little more intently. Smelling the samosas, the tapri wali chai and hurriedly relishing the moments.

The season of wishing you could stay back home and wishing of the cliched wish-- "oh-I-wish- i could cuddle in my room cozily with a book"...ofcourse, wishing you have with you a cuppa hot beverage as a perfect companion :P

The season of working while listening to the beats of the drizzle hit the glass panes...falling on your senses with utter boisterousness..like an impact.. work no more functional but garnished with pleasure and hopes.

The season of wet memories..fulfilled and unfulfilled ..drenched moments.."fond and mesmerizing"..crucial forgiveness ..kind and by the by

The season of long conversations.. and random smses to long-lost friends..heartfelt conversations with family and beloved ones...reading stories like the gift of magi and erich segal's 'love story'..and feel like feeling like a crazy mushy fool;)

Like people melting into the same essence with the smell of wet earth, indifferent expressions but hearts brimming with emotions...deep within craving and desiring of things muted with passing time.

the shower drenches you till the soul...the cold breeze engulfs your heart...the colours blur with a haze...but droplets trickle no more...

The season of happiness and beauty and all the things lovely.

So, what are rains...just a change in climatic conditions or a state of mind?
The latter indeed:)

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

And there are days when you are choked with emotions..but the numbness is so overpowering it refutes all reasons of letting thoughts breathe without fear of consequences.

Like stray memories demanding a decision to forgive or forget, let go or supress...
life sometimes poses questions framed in a format that is hardly decipherable by the mind and the heart... A phase comes I guess when an individual has no clue of what is happening around him/her but keeps operating...functioning..surviving...and sustaining... awaiting with bated breath for moments that would reaffirm his faith in the very word faith itself...

Crossroads are a dangerous juncture... you have to take you pick..
you may go backwards, go ahead..but freezing or going still is the worst form of surrender!

But life, time and again with its favourite game of hide and seek has splashed reasons on me to keep functioing...and at times cherishing and reveling in the ecstasy.

So what are we ultimately, zombies?? aliens to the other wordly creatures (if any) who emote, cry, smile, demand, whine, pester and ultimately mould into the rationalities with the emotions getting emoted like machines, where even a decision from the hearth is as functional as a device that flashes reminder or to-do note as set by its owner. The only difference here is we ourselves are the owner here running our lives like a puppet show. The heart is scared to feel,changes boggle and amuse it... and the most that the owner can do is probably try and tenderly hold the heart with utmost care by protecting it from the harshness outside. A scratch and you are damaged for a lifetime. How weak;) I guess whoever says he is strong says so with all the scratches and wounds having gone numb in the heart and well! ignorance is bliss right, you just need to be prepared to shut the sudden pangs and desires that heart cries out for at times.

By the way I inteneded to start this post on an entirely note, but never mind..
Life is beautiful:) more later...

Friday, May 1, 2009


sorry...deleting this post.

Let the precious comments be here though...:)

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Let there be light....

The music of farewell trance from Kabhi alvida na kehna kept repeating itself, the heat outside tried desperately and arrogantly to enter through the glass pane, friends asking her to go out for a movie or go shopping for cute chappals and junk from street bazaar in the city , Smses dropping in once in a while, chat windows popping up with heys and hiiiis….

It was a packed moment now.. and then the next just goes so blank she ends up sitting under the shower shaken and shivering not knowing what to do next.

Life wasn’t sad, life can never be sad. It’s just that intense sense of … existence..or non-existence that baffles you at times.
There is so much happening, all the tamasha, the very phenomenon of something defines hope for what is to come.

Lines from the movie The curious case of Benjamin Button kept playing in her head…

“For what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, start whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people who have a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of, and if you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again”

She sometimes felt blessed to be able to watch the sun set in its best hues and aura every evening, while sipping a cuppa chai, and let the breeze calmly fondle her face and hair…

She gets restless so easily, it almost scares her at times…the anxiety, the dreams drive her crazy. The sudden jolts from her sleep, and coaxing herself back to sleep, she was learning to love herself…
She learnt and she unlearnt..and she is learning again..
She dreamt and she stepped upon pieces of shattered piercing hopes every moment…
She smiled and felt the tears brewing up in her heart eager to trickle down ….every moment.

A trance indeed. So many people go through these undulating waves of emotions day in and day out…. But they carry on…something inside them dies at times..but there are newer things that come alive…

God becomes your best friend, and sometimes you are scared to trust the almighty even. He never promises you happiness in the way we want to see it. Everyday is called a gift for reasons…reasons she seeked everyday…debates in her mind that had no answer,,,

She wonders, the answers we get..are they the truth…or it’s just another fabricated philosophy to go on….. oh what were those words that the Fasttrack giant hoardings scream…Move on…

She laughs everytime she hears the words Move on…What an easy way to escape the answers…

It was all a clutter, a chaos, interwoven thoughts of past, present and the future…
As noisy and deafening as the bedlam of crazy confusions that seeped into her mind everytime she manages to fall asleep. Perks of growing up..eh! Well goodluck to her.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Luck by Chance

Ik Raasta Kaanto Ka Hai
Ik Rasta Phool Ka
Tujhpe Hai Kaunse
Tu Raaste Ko Chune

Ik Raasta Hai Soch Ka
Ik Rasta bhool Ka..
Tujhpe Hai Tera Dil
Ab Kya Kahe Kya Sune
Hoga Tera Yeh Faisla
Hai Sochna Ya Bhool Na

I loved Luck By Chance (Yeah, may be more for personal reasons, keep guessing;))
But whatever, few scenes and dialougues were so well done and yes! matured too.
Life and People. Excitement and Guilt. Hope and despair. and...harsh realities.. The movie had it all. Amazing effort I must say.

Konkaka did it again.
And Farhan is cute. Really really so;) His character has been etched out beautifully...
I enjoyed the movie....do watch it atleast once.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Fiction Figments

She looked at them after the important presentation, indifferently but feigned a look of anticipation, a skill she had mastered over years.
Her colleague gave her a cheerful look and whispered how ‘cool’ the pitch went, the brand new campaign for a new variant of the leading brand specially designed for the rural counterparts of the country. The CEO patted her back and congratulated for the efforts she had put in. She thought to herself, what efforts! it’s a daily routine, preparing for meetings like these, that she so thoroughly enjoyed… not so much the end as the process…

Work was hectic, as hectic as the rush in the local railway stations and daily struggle to get into the jam-packed rusted compartment of the local trains. The chaos, the fight through the clumsiness gave her a sense of order, a purpose. Parallel to this, her real purpose existed in the angel back home.

The disorder, expectations hurled at her in the office muted at home with a warm hug, not so much the hug as the very phenomena .. arms flung open at her, energetically, willingly, desperately, inviting to erase the pressure and tensions that filled her ambience around at work. And the giggles that followed and the never ending yap! Back home, she would mesmerize into the feeling, they would lie side by side looking out of the window, staring at the moon and the clouds, and watching the fresh dew drops smile at them early in the morning. The rest of the world ceased to exist then, and all that lay spread before them were opportunities to live life to the hilt. Every achievement made sense, every competition seemed challenging, and every new day felt meaningful.

Yes, it was the angel , her sweet little angel who had suddenly filled her senses with contentment. Happiness? She had stopped bothering about happiness long back,
when promises of happiness shattered like rubbles of a fragile building, fragments that could never be the same again, in its entirety , having lost its essence, helplessly.

She had felt the pangs so bad, the emptiness..the anxiety, the empty hopes… the forced nightmares, emptiness again, dreams that choked, like an impact ! emptiness again, despair and a naked dance of those situations. …The cellphone she had wished to throw away, guilty of her fingers that automatically dialed numbers she shouldn’t, she needn’t, she fell prey to the little device, the machine that ruled her days then. That let her hear voices that gave her hope…and then the emptiness again.

Her convictions had brought her trouble. She had decided to preserve the love that made her heart swell with pride. She didn’t care who else cared, when the person who should have cared the most let go! Reasons flew in air, discussions and possibilities mentioned….and then the same emptiness.. Futility and more of it!! Killing the love didn’t seem to solve the problem… she decided to hold on. She would handle the pangs, alone! Burning photographs or curses only aggravated the problem. Emotions felt void of purpose…

Years went by, she went on, life went on, successfully. Sometimes she gaily liked to call herself a successful living corpse, a zombie. Such clichéd darkness, she would laugh aloud!

Fast forward - - > The day she went to this adoption center , a fear filled her heart. The familiar fear, of her dreams shattering the moment she saw hope… and expected them to last.

It all happened like a blurred piece of fiction, the initial formalities, talks, elaborate details of her background…. And then the angel in her arms, it had looked into her eyes with a twinkle so innocent she fell in love with the little bundle then and there.
The bright eyes spoke volumes about the days to come. Responsibilities, she didn’t run away from them. She liked to fulfill them at the right time, and when she decided the world couldn’t stop her.
She named her Simran. In her she saw an extension of her love. She made her dreams come true. She preserved the delight when situations had given up and made them come true in her own way. If something has to live forever, who could ever kill it. Not shallow surrenders of all the things!

The black and white photographs turned coloured again… she looked at the old snaps, the genuine smiles , the twinkle in the eyes and the firm beliefs…she remembered her dreams of a home, the brightly-lit drawing room , low sofas, dimly-lit bedroom inviting moon’s gaze, full of photo-frames of candid shots, the lively discussions. .. Mesmerizing into the feeling, they would lie side by side looking out of the window, staring at the moon and the clouds, and watching the fresh dew drops smile at them early in the morning. The world would cease existing then, and all that would lay spread before them would be opportunities to live life to the hilt. Every achievement would make sense, every competition challenging, and every new day meaningful… and she remembered their dreams of a kid running around the house , hopping with those mischievous giggles , her curls flying with the breeze , her pink lips turning rosy with each word she uttered…