It Is What It Is

Did I get too comfortable?
Or was it my vanity?
When everything was at my finger tips
I walked away
Leaving everything behind
Should I blame it on the youth?
Or do I call it a wondrous risk?
Embarked on a journey born from an infatuation
To see it crumble at my feet
Most often I look back
And wonder what could have been
The places I would have traveled
The heights I would achieved
Only if I would have waited, a little while longer…
But I wonder
If universe turned back time
And granted me this wish
Would I have done anything different than this?

I’m in Trouble

Every time his voice softens
It sounds like tinkling bells
Driving the butterflies to flutter
Leaving me breathless
And I know I’m in trouble

Every time I hear his drowsy voice
When I call at the wrong time
Melts the icicles around my heart
Leaving me wanting to hug him tight
And I know I’m in trouble

Every time I see his wall down
When I let him in my circle
Tickles the corner of my lips
Leaving me smiling all by myself at odd times
And I know I’m in trouble

Every time I see him run his fingers through his hair
Or catch him looking at my lips
Makes my heart flip with hope
Even when I know he’ll break my heart
And I know I’m in trouble

Every time I see his smile playing on his lips
When I act like a kid
Happiness bubbles in my throat
Leaving me lost in my daydreams
And I know I’m in trouble

I am in big, big trouble.

–..

The Monster Under Her Bed

A friend turned foe once the clock struck twelve,
The one that once gave comfort, now set the heart thumping till it swell.
Until the break of dawn colored the skies,
The eyes refuse to rest in a dreamless abyss.

The moving shadows in the darkness of the night,
Leaves her tossing and turning in a sorry plight.
Eyes open, staring in dark void she feels,
Something sits heavy on her chest…
Its the monster that sleeps under her bed.

It was an endless fight destined to end at the crack of dawn,
The lights were installed by the knight to protect her from harm.
Helplessly she swung her sword at the monster in thin air,
The monster stood behind her grinning from ear to ear.

The knight stepped in to save her from a fatal blow,
And before she knew it there was a morning glow…
She moved in her sleep in her mama’s safe arms,
The monster growled sinisterly who was now caged underground.

Clipped Wing’s Flight

Before I fall in a deep permanent slumber,
Open your eyes wide to the wonders of imagination,
And see what I speak of, to you
With my hand resting over my pounding heart…

What if…
What if I were to turn into a speck of dust,
To tame the ever evolving beast that grows in me?
What if I were meant to merge with millions of other drops,
To douse an insatiable fire burning in the pit of my core?
What if…

What if…
What if I were to disappear in thin air without a whisper,
To preserve the fragments of whatever left goodness as is in me?
What if I slip into an oblivion,
Would I be robbed of my immortality?
What if…

What if…
What if my wings were clipped and I were to taste my first flight,
A little “unprepared” tip off the highest tower,
Tasting the wind with a satisfied smile as I rushed to kiss gravity,
Tell me, would it have strengthened my hold on immortality at all?

What if I ceased to exist after bidding a silent goodbye,
Would you let me go as you let go of the light captured in a jar?
Tell me, would I have made any difference to you at all?

My Paradox

I am out of control, but still in control.
The poison gives my tongue all the liberty, but the teeth still holds it back.
I do what I love, but I am still not satisfied.

 This poem by Harivansh Rai Bacchan, makes some sense when I think of giving in to a risk which is now all easy and almost close to being monotone:

Vruksh ho bade bhale,                                                There may be huge trees around
Ho ghane ho bhale,                                                     Thick and providing shade
Ek Patra chhah bhi mang mat,                                     Dont ask for shade
Mang mat, mang mat,                                                 Walk on the path of fire
Agnipath, Agnipath Agnipath;

Tu na thamega kabhi                                                  You wont stop, ever
Tu na mudega kabhi                                                   You won’t look back, ever
Tu na rukega kabhi,                                                    You won’t halt, ever
Kar shapath, Kar shapath, Kar shapath,                        Take this oath
Agnipath, Agnipath, Agnipath.                                    Walk on the path of fire

Ye Mahan Drushya hain,                                             It is a great Scene:
Chal raha Manushya hain,                                           The man is walking
Ashru, Sweth, Rakta se Latpat Latpat Latpat..            Tears, Sweat, soaked in blood
Agnipath, Agnipath, Agnipath.                                     Walk on the path of fire

—..

My Little Moments

I am pretty
Oh so pretty
And witty and smart
You said I’m pretty
Oh so pretty
You found me pretty
I got your attention
Should I feel nice?

(Read:  See my face in your book.)
————-

That beautiful moment when I’m pushed to live my dreams, chase what I want, because that world is where they feel I perfectly belong. And with that they probably feel the mistake they did is rectified. With that, they feel they are living their dreams through my eyes.

————-

Teenage love. Probably nothing will be as pure as that. It now comes with baggage and conditions and a list to avoid the mistake that was made when I was a teenager. Irony.
Then again, there is a good chance that I am wrong. 🙂
I miss how simpler I was back then.
I have changed beyond recognition too.
————-

Talking about love, there are so many beautiful, intriguing humans. I am finding it difficult to imagine being bonded to one and one alone.

————-

It’s sad how we replace one from other so frequently though.
It’s sad how we think we are replaced.
————-

When home, I will raise a toast for Poda Land with a shot of gin. And some more.
For she gave me my beloved independence. For she taught me to be responsible.
For she is making me feel grown up, now that I pay my own bills.
————-

 I once used to speak in pig language to irritate some.
Oink oink.
Now I call my BIL a green angry bird pig.
I own two green angry bird ke pigs too.
Oink oink 😀
—..

Imraan’s Shayari

Javed Akthar’s Shayari from the movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara: BEAUTIFUL. The only thing till now, with simple but powerful words, simply recited moved me like anything. Just thought about them suddenly.

Sher 1:

Ik baat honton tak hai jo aayi nahin
Bas ankhon say hai jhaankti
Tumse kabhi, mujhse kabhi
Kuch lafz hain woh maangti
Jinko pehanke honton tak aa jaaye woh
…Aawaaz ki baahon mein baahein daalke ithlaye woh
Lekin jo yeh ik baat hai
Ahsas hi ahsas hai
 
Khushboo si hai jaise hawa mein tairti
Khushboo jo be-aawaaz hai
Jiska pata tumko bhi hai
Jiski khabar mujhko bhi hai
Duniya se bhi chupta nahin
Yeh jaane kaisa raaz hai

Sher 2:

Jab jab dard ka baadal chaya
Jab ghum ka saya lehraya
Jab aansoo palkon tak aya
Jab yeh tanha dil ghabraya
 
Humne dil ko yeh samjhaya
…Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai
Duniya mein yunhi hota hai

Yeh jo gehre sannate hain
Waqt ne sabko hi baante hain
Thoda ghum hai sabka qissa
Thodi dhoop hai sabka hissa
Aankh teri bekaar hi nam hai
Har pal ek naya mausam hai
Kyun tu aise pal khota hai
Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai

Sher 3:

Pighlay neelam sa behta hua yeh samaan
Neeli neeli si khamoshiyaan
Na kahin hai zameen
Na kahin aasmaan
Sarsaraati huyi tehniyaan, pattiyaan
Keh rahi hain ki bas ek tum ho yahaan
Sirf main hoon meri saansein hain aur meri dhadkanein
Aisi gehraiyaan
Aisi tanhaiyaan
Aur main sirf main
Apne honay pe mujhko yaqeen aa gaya (Beautifully ended! Loved this line)

Sher 4:
(My fav of all)

Dilon mein tum apni
Betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum
Nazar mein khwabon ki
Bijliyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum
Hawa ke jhokon ke jaise
Aazad rehno sikho
Tum ek dariya ke jaise
Lehron mein behna sikho
Har ek lamhe se tum milo
Khole apni bhaayein
Har ek pal ek naya samha
Dekhen yeh nigahaein
Jo apni aankhon mein
Hairaniyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum
Dilon mein tum apni
Betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum 


Still gives me goosebumps!
—..

Random Mumbles

Playful

The best thing about photography is, even if you have great memory, looking at a picture will flood millions of emotions. Even though it is too much for me to handle feelings, looking at my candid shots always makes me welcome them and smile.

Like this little girl here. I remembered everything about her when I started working with this year old picture.
She was a daddy’s girl. I assumed he was her dad. She was be playful, calm and happy whenever she was in his arms, and like a tornado if anyone else touched her. Had met her in Lalbaugh, flower show 2010. And I couldn’t help following her around for a while. Cutest smile!
——
Every girl’s dream:
1. Paint her nails blue.
2. Sport a messy hairdo.
3. Get referred as a dude, and literally.
4. Try and get callouses on her fingers.
——
I Am Free!

This will be my all time favorite amateur shot of mine. This will always remind me of how we were when we were kids:

Unbound, innocent and free. Carefree nature. And this, makes me feel that. I had written a short poem called Unbounded, which now when I think of it, fits this picture perfectly.
I had thought, and was made believe that this is a phase, that poem of mine. But now when I think of it, it is was not a phase. It was what I wanted. And it is how exactly I am existing right now.
Being a cynic is ok. But being cynic to the extent of destroying everything within yourself and others, I suggest please shoot yourself.
Fine, destroy whatever you want within yourself, but let others be. Just because you are depressed and dead inside, doesn’t mean you’ll make others believe they are too.
And yes, all this blabber talk comes out something. Make me believe that I do not want to belive this. Make me feel that, this is not what I’m feeling. I stupidly nodding to everything, like a person with no spine. And then morphing to be all that to be your pretty wife. And that is what is exactly called as being bounded.
Kids are beautiful. Remind us of so many things which eventually even they will forget as they grow up. Like that kid. And sometimes it is really amazing that, how you can actually feel what the other is feeling, if intensly. Like it is infectious.
——
The most frustratingly exhausting feeling is feeling empty. I find it weird to call empty as a feeling. Feeling nothing is a feeling. WTF.
The most irritating feeling is wanting something badly but failing to understand what that something is.
And suggestion I get to clear my head, “Go poop.” For better understanding.
Funny my dear Dove, but WTF!

I really have awesome set of close friends.

——
Best feeling ever?
Craving for cheese pizza at midnight, or anything with cheese. Why? Because I’m hungry!
Get up next morning. And guess what’s for breakfast?
Cheese sandwich. 😀
Yea, I made it happen. Made it myself.
Mom’s not gonna like it. 😀 😀
——
And then, after I started ignoring my craving, I suddenly remembered my pen pals. One was from states. Other had moved from Britain to SA, Kenya. The one in Kenya apparently resembled to Daniel Radcliffe. And the one in states, she had 13 siblings! Ignoring that, they really were very interesting people. Whatever made me delete the contacts. Kenya friend was on my FB list. Then again, what made me delete that contact again…
Hmm. Lets see:
I was 17. (Surprised that it lasted from when I was 12 to say about 15!!)
He was too British for me (?!?) But definitely very very interesting person.
Back then, I simply wanted to know how different they are. And to my surprise, they were full of feelings and emotions! Great sense of humor. Friendship was a big deal to them. Friends were someone they could talk to. And being in a different country, it was easier for them to share their lives. Or probably those two were like that. As we say, the growing teen age phase. Who knows, might have turned up like me. 😛
Yes, I do remember their names. Aden and Catylin. If they do remember me, and if something happens in this small world and we miraculously find each other again, I would really like to know how they are doing. Because, in the end back then I was like them too.
——
—..

Cruel Intentions

June 30, 2011
1:20 AM

The deed was done
They were cruel intentions
With  magic it was dodged and
Turned into the size of a sparkling dew
Then trapped into a box with Pandora’s lock
Engraved flowers deceiving the contents of the box
Buried deep in the freshly dug earth
Hoping Gollum won’t find the “Precious”, as he’ll call
And release the unknown darkness in the new naive air of joy
—..

A pathetic attempt to write a free verse poem after a looong looong time, and after I had sworn that I would never write any poem, ever again. 😀 I’m guessing Drama is becoming my new muse.

Oh yea, I was pretty mad when I wrote this whatever. 😀