Coming Back

November '2014

I came back after a long time
  to live
    to laugh
      to cry.
To hear myself breathe.
To feel the living in me.

I came back to myself.
It's not easy.
It's a journey
through rivers,
    mountains,
      judgemental people
        and situations.
I have to cut through all and emerge

I hold my cloak close.
The crystals shine
  and show me the way..

Wide-eyed Fool

10th June '2014

Wide-eyed li'l fool
Oh, dear li'l fool of mine.
You still don't know
Oh! you really don't
That I'm your woman. your only woman.
And you're my man. my man.

So difficult. oh so difficult the road.
Why so difficult. why so difficult the road.
When you're my mate and I'm yours
Why so difficult the road?

Why do we get so weary at a day's long end?
Where's our nectar sweet?
And elixir vitae to dip in our wings?
Why are the days so burdensome, so mirthless and so full of things to do?
Is it our days or are we enslaved to them?

So many questions, so little answers
So many thoughts, so li'l thoughtless moments
So many hours, so li'l are ours
So many MEs in a day
So many YOUs in a day
Which one's should we pair?

in passing

11^th August ‘11

Out of sight. Out of mind.

Does this hold true? Maybe to a certain degree. But that necessarily doesn’t mean that the subject is not tucked somewhere in some very fond corner of the heart, to come up to the mind aimlessly, like a song from an oblivious, infinite playlist in shuffle mode.

I really don’t truly believe in the randomness of the shuffle mode. I think there’s a definite pattern there, somewhere. Probably again, known to the higher mind, the great strategist or the omnipresent. I can sometimes guess the complicated flowchart of the pattern, but don’t know a way of validating my doubts. Do the psychology experts know?

Life emanating of me

Images springing and dancing and jumping off a cliff

A face leaving the trail of its thought behind

Lazy working days full of restless ideas

Commute amidst many, through several modes.

a drive, a tube, an escalator, a tunnel,

a rickshaw, a meter,  a subway, a walk,

a bus, a conductor, a  stop, some stairs..

a journey, an exchange, some time,

just a wee bit of life. 

Threshold

23rd July '09

Stretched out my hand
  out of the window
    to grasp a handful of sky.
And it poured.
Right then
  onto my palm.

Something's missing
Can't find it..

Have been looking awhile now..
Looked into the past,
Peered through the present,
And stared right past the deep oblivion.

Something's missing
Can't find it..

To disturb a deep slumber.
To expect liveliness.
To show you're alive
To look for passion.
To shake.
To inflame.
     To disturb a deep slumber.
          How?
When one sleeps while you write.

I'm on a journey to sanity.
Please call me back.
Cause you know..
    I know..
        We all know..
Once I reach
I'm never coming back.