...

Make me start writing again,
Then will I know I love you.
Make me start painting again.
Then will I know I love you.
Make me feel,
Make me bleed.
Make me laugh,
Make me cry.
Make me me,
Then will I know I love you.

tamarind rhymes...

salted, dried and in the sun
green ebbing towards the darkest gold
they lie, destined to inspire every tongue
they have since ages of old...
tamarind rhymes
my tongue testifies; stands witness
to the salty tang, timeless against time;
solvent in air, riding the worldly waves...

couplets... never finding a beginning nor an end...

I

dewdrops on the white
tender to the eye
caressed by the evening wind
like a lover's kiss flown in every night...

II

prickly and touchy like the porcupines making love
painful it starts, flowing into an ocean, lovingly passionate
touch and you move away, never knowing the beauty beneath
alas! for man has always been so short sighted, inanimate

III

are footprints possible only in the sand
oh the very air bursts, flows electrified by your touch
documenting details beyond compare
for you are one, immeasurable, pretty much...

what is with me and fallen flowers?

Rainbow socks...

A kiss is still a kiss...

...

Right now I am an emotional hurricane

rotating, revolving

taking people round and round with me

they are getting hit with the debris

and I can't help them

and I don't want to

I want them to get hurt

I want them to feel the hurt

I want blood

I want to see them bleeding

I am the emotional hurricance

who doesn't want to stop anywhere

but I am losing my energy

I think I will stop now

the vortex is killing me

or may be I am killing it

I am nearing my inner self

my eye

and it is calm

I can see it is calm

but I am so far away from it

I am trying to reach it

but I cannot

what do I do?

I need to be

but I cannot

what do I do?

do I keep trying?

or should I stop, hoping I will reach there one day?

what do I do?

some one...

please tell me what to do

I am tired

I am beaten

I am hit

I just want to sleep now

I just want to rest

for I had enough of this

to last me a life time

I think

I will stop

...

Ah! The fine tunes of a violin. She sat and practiced, tweaking and re-tweaking each note many a times; but not getting it right. Maybe it was the lack of rosin and she rubbed the resin on the bow. Her delicate arms would run and rub, but never doing as good a job as her master. When he did it, a white smoke almost engulfed the violin bow. She took the bow and started practicing again; checking with her notes again and again. But still the perfection she desired for was as elusive as before.

She was disheartened. Practicing and more practicing and even more practicing had not smoothened out her notes, especially the high ones. She looked up, distress on her brow; for she felt as if she were ramming her favorite instrument on the floor and then stamping it.

Her hair tied up in a bun, high on her head; had come loose. She put down her violin and bow. She kept them carefully in the box and let her hair down. She went out into the garden; barefoot of course. She wanted to feel the breeze in her hair; feel the crunch of gravel under her feet; feel the sweet smell of roses and jasmine tickle her nose. She wanted to escape her frustration and this was her way. She saw a rose in full bloom. She knelt down to take a closer look; but her attention drifted to a spider close by; busy building its web.

Meticulously it went on and around; its yarn shimmering in the sun. The playful breeze at times would rock the web, making the spider’s job hard; but it did need the web. He forged on completing the job. She smelt the rose and then smiled thoughtfully.

She walked on and a sparrow flew overhead. The mango tree was in full bloom and even a few tender mangoes hung from it. They beckoned her. She jumped, trying to pluck one; but she couldn’t reach them. She then climbed up the tree, to one of the lower branches. She then plucked one with satisfaction. She sat on the branch with her legs down, swinging and swaying while she munched on the mango. She killed a mosquito which dared to sit on her arm, dared it in broad daylight. A very daring parasite that got killed… a devilish smirk played at her lips.

She listened to the songbirds as they chirped to one another and saw the squirrels run up and down the trees. She was getting a clear view from that branch; and she enjoyed it in the shade and the breeze. She even saw a snake slither into the thickets. She reminded herself to warn her parents. Ah! A perfect tender mango on a perfectly lively day. She however did miss the salt crystals which increased the taste many times over. But it was still worth the climb. She jumped off the tree with a content grin that matched the summer sun in its brilliance. She ran into the house; cool and welcoming. The mud tiles glistened for they’d just been cleaned. She smelt the aroma drifting from the kitchen. Her mother was busy and her stomach gave a growl. But she had something more important in her mind than food. She ran into her room and almost flung open her violin box.

Outside in the garden, the sun shone, the birds chirped, the flowers swayed in the breeze and every organism stayed mesmerized as the sounds of a violin pure in melody and spirit danced on in the air…

Hmmm...

She looked at herself in the mirror. She opened her mouth and saw her first wisdom tooth about to spring up from its rosy soft bed. She closed her mouth. She saw a louse climb up a loose strand of her hair like a spider in its web. She was disgusted with herself. Quickly she caught and squashed it between her fingernails; like how she used to when she was a kid.

She had grown up; she had lost her baby fat but she still had that spring in her step; that twinkle in her eye; the spirit in her heart. Wild and unbroken; innocent.

A louse infestation. She sighed. She slept.

The next day ushered in. She woke up.

She sat in the garden-basking in the sun; on the soil, cross-legged. She loved that. She loved the nature. She loved looking at her shadow, playing with it. She would make all sorts of movements with her hand and would watch her shadow mimic her every move.

She then got caught in the turmoil of thoughts through her brain. She never wanted to scratch her head. Her mom promised to comb her hair… She had stubby fingers or so she said- square palms, it seemed. She looked at the scar at the bottom of her thumb. Shera had bitten her there. She started at the sound of the squirrel. She saw a kingfisher on a telephone cable. As she stood to get a closer look, it flew away. She sighed and searched for that squirrel; but it was no where to be found. She sat down again; the ants scurrying past, busy. She at times would create obstacles with her fingers for them, observing how each ant would react and overcome the obstacle. A green sparkly fly flew and sat on her thigh; before she could do anything- get a closer look or swat it off- it realized her thigh wasn’t a flower and flew off. She sighed again.

She started scribbling in the soil; digging in with her fingers; drawing, writing, whatever came into her mind. That’s when her Shera ran up to her; sniffing, wanting to play. He ran behind his own tail to try get her attention. She threw a stone for him, to run after. He came back for more within seconds, dropping the spit covered stone next to her. Panting, his tongue long and pink hung out. She however was too engrossed in unleashing her creative skills that she didn’t notice. He nudged and licked her. She growled and he backed down; but he came back and nipped at her. Surrendering, she threw stones for him and then went back to scribbling. Shera sat next to her, realizing he wouldn’t get to play anymore.

She touched her left arm. It was hot, slightly red. That’s when her mother called out. She ran; sprinting followed by Shera; like the wind and the leaves…. And the ants kept scurrying past where she’d sat…now no longer obstructed.

No one should be tamed... right? It probably is the worst thing to do- to cut and prune a person to match your thoughts; like a bonsai or maybe training a pet dog. I just hope no one has to go through that...

... at times too much focus is at par with the lack of it...

What do I think of God? I’m sure no one would be interested to know, for God is God, no matter what I think, eh? ;)

Always wonder what would have happened had I been brought up with no religious beliefs thrust upon me. I mean, imagine. Would I be missing the praying? Would I miss “God”?

Ok, no offense to anyone, I am just voicing my random thoughts here, ok? Come on, my blog :P

I always wondered, isn’t prayer a specific form of meditation that we do, and isn’t work worship? Is there any need for a name for what we are doing? It is necessary to be obligated to anybody but us? Can’t we be self sufficient and own up our failures and take credit for our success? Do we need to blame luck, destiny and fate for our mistakes? Isn’t belief in oneself enough? Apparently not… Sigh

In the name of ‘God’, we have these religions too. Ghaah! The apparently educated people themselves have a problem looking past the religious limitations, let alone the poor illiterate man. Is it that hard to understand that 1 religion is basically the same in essence as the other? Different paths to the same destination- peace of mind??? As if we didn’t have enough reasons to fight amongst ourselves, we now have another reason to fret over.

Ah, I guess it is a fool’s dream to think that the entire world would come together with its beliefs and agree upon the same thing. After all, every person out there has his own beliefs, his own thoughts- a unique brain, functioning in an even more unique way. Sigh! But I would rather be a fool, dreaming than accepting what is. After all a dream can one day become reality… Maybe one day.

The trouble is that- I’m stuck somewhere- somewhere between an atheist and a theist- being brought up the latter and on the road to the former. Stuck as always.

Ghaah! There is too much too say; and I am too lazy to grope and hold on to all those thoughts circling around and flying in my mind and write it down here. And, this is where I stop; maybe some other day I would finish this later; and maybe that day I would have a better idea as to where I stand…

:D

Till then, pray...

I haven't prayed for a long time... I guess I lost belief somewhere down the line. This doesn't mean I have started praying again. No, I guess I never got back the belief I lost long back. I don't know if I will get the said 'belief' anytime soon. I am not sure I want it back, either. But, let me tell you, along the way, I found out prayer is nothing but meditation, meditation to calm the mind. Prayer aint for the fools. or was it wise? I always seem to forget. Its for those, who believe and have faith. But I would rather be the fool, who has faith in herself than in something or something she has never seen before. Prayer is a crutch for those who have not understood the simple truth. Hah! I am not going to tell you the simple truth. You are supposed to find that yourself. Let go of the crutch. Live life like you are God and hopefully you will find the truth too... Till then, all I can say is pray...

Thoughts...

Education is nothing but the art of living. We are learning to live our life without being too much of a burden to anyone; and if possible to be of some good use to atleast 1 person on this earth. This is proper education; and life teaches us that. So basically life teaches us to live our life. And I have learnt a bit, for I am but an average student... And this is all I have to tell the world of what I have learnt before I go...

!!!

Chop me down, please...
For I have sinned.
I have been selfish and now I repent
Kept to myself my shade
and kept to myself my breeze.
Chop me down, please....
For I no longer want to be standing.
Let me go, to where I came from.
I want to go back,
To take my selfish soul away from you
For I have sinned.
Chop me down, I say.
I cry, rather.
I have been mean and nasty
And I no longer wish to be.
Take me away,
Put me to some use, or let me go.
I know I never paid you the same regard,
But I wish you be the bigger one here...
Bid me this one request.
Chop me down, I pray,
For I have sinned.

...

I feel horrible. Why do I feel horrible? See, the only advice my mom gave me was do things so that you never regret doing them. I guess I never did follow that through; because even though I say I have no regrets, I have a mountain load of regrets inside, deep down, locked into a tiny little ball. I guess it is waiting to be released. I don't want to cry out, or show weakness, because that is not who I am. I have an image, you see. An image of sunshine. But I find myself to be the exact opposite of what the world sees me to be- a black hole, sucking in a bit of my smile every single day to quench the thirst of that little ball holding in my humongous regrets. I wish I could do something about it, but I cannot survive if that tiny ball breaks. If that ball does break, so will my soul. I bet, everyone has regrets and problems. But then, why should I care about everyone. All I should be caring about is me, my sunshine and my little blue ball of regrets. But then I don't think I have the strength to go back and do my life all over again. I don't think I can make that journey again. I have grown small now. I have become weak. I can't go back. I guess I will just have to carry my burden forward. My biggest regret is that the person bearing the brunt of my tiny blue ball of regret is not exactly me, but someone who shouldn't have to be bothered by my mistakes. I just wish my little ball of regrets would go away. But then, I wouldn't be where I am right now, if not for it. And for that I am grateful for it brought me you...

voices forgotten...

A gray fog looms ahead,

And I stand engulfed
The smell of jasmines hovers around me
A gentle reminder of a time long gone…
I stand alone, not knowing where to head.

Memories floods in, my glass fills to the brim,

Unwanted thoughts long stashed away

I see all too clearly when I rather not,

I hear and see things I’d long tried to forget.

Things I thought I’d forgotten…

But I’m encircled;

A whirlpool of voices long forgotten…

Some like the acid lime

And some, the sweet of honey…

Voices of people, loved and cared,

Long gone, yet stayed.

As the human crescendo ebbs

Like the ocean tide moons away,

Every voice is yet again forgotten

But one stays behind, one that tugs at my heart,

One, pure, deep and true…

The voice of a young girl,

A girl who was once me…

A girl who wanted nothing, yet everything,

A girl with the twinkle in her eyes still a flame

A voice I’d long forgotten,

A voice I wish I’d listened to…

I stand still amid that white darkness,

Wishing I could go back in time

But as the fog lifts, so do the spirits,

For I see that the girl is still in me…

A part forever-

Like the air in my lungs, or the blood in my veins…

A voice never gone…

Never one of the voices forgotten…

just a thought...

Gosh you'd never know how much I dig colors. Until quite recently I had this huge thing for black clothes and accessories... Ok, maybe I still have that love; but now I cannot stop loving colorful flashy things... just today afternoon I was sitting outside my house and I saw this young girl wearing a totally beautiful pair of sandals. It had about every color of the rainbow... The day was so gloomy and cloudy that till that moment I was as cloudy as the sky.

But those sandals just brightened my day. I don't know why, but at times colors have this beautiful effect on us. each color imparting a particular feeling in us. No wonder nature is filled with all these beautiful colors; without these colors, I for one would not want to live here...
so enjoy them colors... :) have fun...

for once, leave me alone...
let me be in this warm darkness,
a much safer place than the cold light.
a light that threatens to burn you
a light that makes you forget
a time when everything was so much better
this darkness is so much better
its warm hands caress me
weaving a beautiful cocoon around me
keeping me safe from the prying light
oh leave me alone...
it hurts, not just my eyes,
my heart too, pinpricked for every inch
let me be in this haven
for not all light is heavenly
and not al darkness satanic..