Monday, December 7, 2009

impressions about "Him"

impressions about "Him" in chronological order (over the last 3 months) :

- The almighty hope-your-there
- The puissant theres-something-wrong-here
- The great maybe
- The omnipotent could-be
- The divine definately-not-there

Dawn

You smiled, you spoke, and I believed..

A wavering deep within the soul…

By every word and smile deceived…

Another man would hope no more !

Nor hoped what I hoped before

And in the depths of night my heart shall scream

Deceive, deceive me once again!

But in the early dawn do I see…

The blossoms die upon the tree

The leaves whither in the sun…

And I see…

Spring is done.

It goes now a wintry way

For love that smiled in October

Is false before Christmas day.

Questions ! Questions !

Was I wrong? Did I stray?

Why would this wound me so?

I ponder and I pray….

The only answer that I know…

Fare thee well, for I must leave,

In this parting do I grieve…

But no longer do I believe..

And so it is that we must part,

Adieu, adieu !

I can no longer wait for you,

I'll hang my harp on a willow tree,

And may the world go well with you…

Got hope ?

Which hope we have as an anchor of our soul, both sure and steadfast

- Hebrews 6:19

Monday, November 23, 2009

The last dance

Just when he thought that love had gone
Life was but shades of grey
She came into his life one day
As one last flimsy thread was drawn
hope, had once again found a way
What used to elude him more and more
yet she touched the center of his core
Being with her, he'd agree,
Unleashed his fear and set it free
With disbelief his heart would ask
Would this become another snare?
Will pain itself remove its mask
To face true love without a care?
In solitude his heart awaits
While trust had found its way again
With joyous leaps this life creates
A new beginning… another chance
May he have just one more dance ?

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

A picture can be magic

He was in a fret...
because he didn't know where to start..or how to...
how would he go about recreating to magic of memory without the proper tools ?

After brooding about it...a sudden thought struck him...he DIDN'T need any tools !!
he could start on any blank surface...it didn't have to be a canvas or even a proper paper...
All it needed to be was white.
We call it white because we need a word but its true name is "nothing"
Black is the absense of light.. but white is the absense of memory.. the color of "can't remember"

What better medium than that of emptiness to create ? a seemingly endless void...almost begging to give birth to life.

Imagine the courage required to re-establish the world and draw that first line...
to bring back to life something that was...empty..

He picked up a pencil... hesitated... and then marked the white...
After the initial hesitation... the lines seemed to take on a life of their own..flowing seamlessly into one another
the white no longer an absense of memory...but it's very epitome.

but as for all things,this universe must create a balance...
where life is created..there it must be destroyed as well...
the first line drawn so hesitantly to create someting had also become a slot...
a jarring smudge on the white
a slot for blackness to pour through.

but a mark had been made and there was no going back...
The white...had been marked. and nothing would change that.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The Seven against Thebes


Great Thebes,the mighty walled, I see
The seven gated town...
where brothers reigining annually ..passed too and fro the crown

Till Eteocles,despite the law...refuses with a frown
and the mighty Polyneices wars.. they burnt the city to the ground

The champions of argos, strive before each fearsome gate
Of seven who'll remain alive, is in the hands of fate

The brothers,at each others hand,are both for hades bound
Among those who come from much distant lands, two much missed friends are found

Tydeus,fighting axe in hand,is wounded by a foe - Melannipus, who makes a stand and lays the hero low..
but not before the axe in hand, has drunk it's longed for draft of blood
and severed from it's mighty trunk.. a head rolls in the mud
A final act of vengance when, before he meets his bane
the dead man's skull is spilt and Tydeus eats his brain

Amphiaraus,the god's own seer,fights firecely in the squall
and knowing that his end is near, triumphs over all !

A useless guesture, then he knows,avoiding fate to flee ?
for Zeus follows where he goes.. his thunderbolts the key

When lightning strikes, the earth will spasm,and he can only drive...
his steeds into a gaping chasm.. into hell alive

And greeted there upon the bank by the boatman of old,
who cares not for the trouble above and demands his ransom of gold.

------------------------------
Thought i'd get morbid in a more accepetable fashion this time :)
my personal favourite bit is the brains eating one :) I actually got the idea from a comic i was reading in office(!!!shh) and i found the story pretty interesting so i quickly googled it...

It's based on the story of "the Seven against Thebes" and "Eteocles and the Polyneices wars"
Incase your interested in the actual story, i refer you to a wiki link :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Against_Thebes

and a google books link :

http://books.google.co.in/books?id=3xGfiqR5rjAC&pg=PA107&lpg=PA107&dq=Polyneices+wars&source=bl&ots=ZIIlcS4PPx&sig=NrPkynEv0M-VpAjFgxzWTHqgIEw&hl=en&ei=-dewSoaQK6iG6AP0wtzfAQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1#v=onepage&q=Polyneices%20wars&f=false

Comments ??

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

the blue depths call...

Ever, in happiness, he had gone to the mountains
Some of the happiest times had been spent there.. and anyone who mattered had shared the serene beauty with him…

Ever, in sadness, he had run to the sea
During times of sorrow and loss, standing ankle deep at the edge, had always been a solace
A feeling that could not be shared..
In some indescribable manner, the sea seemed not only to be in sync with the sadness, it seemed to reflect an understanding… a comfort no human was capable of providing
Like a friend one meets after many long years yet no words are necessary
An ever patient acceptance
Unquestioning and ever understanding.. somewhat like a mother’s embrace, if one wished to be mawkish about it…

And once again in his life, he needed that friendship…
The time to leave had come…


*Sure.. sounds arbit.. but I really had trouble getting the words out in a way that would make sense
Sometimes, words just take on a mind of their own and simply have to be put down in whatever order they come out.. logical or not..whether you like it or not…

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

A heart's deepest fear

Do any of us, execpt in our dreams, truly expect to be reunited with our heart's deepest loves ? Even when they leave us only for minutes and on the most mundane of errands ?
No, Not at all.
Each time they go from our sight we, in our secret hearts, count them as dead.
Having been given so much, we reason, how could we expect not to be brought as low as lucifer for the staggering presumption of our love ?
Sometimes these fears are unfounded and baseless..if we are lucky
Because sometimes they can be all too true.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Belief

If, a year ago, someone had told him, he would be standing here, on the precipice of sanity, surrounded by dilemma… He would have laughed in their face... Time and again, he proudly used to tell everyone that the power of belief would be strong enough to tide anything over… “just believe in yourself” he used to smirk confidently…

And then the penny dropped… and hard.

Now, he had strangers walking up to him and telling him “life is good” “keep the faith” “It’s just a phase”… don’t give up hope! All those phrases he himself had blithely handed out like nuggets of wisdom from a cheap self help book

Is the hopelessness that apparent in his eyes? Can they see the terror, like that of a deer caught in the headlights and unable to move?

How does he tell them..it’s become like trying to climb some malevolent mountain… The treacherous stones giving way whenever he thought he had reached a stable out cropping and could rest…

Finding himself at the bottom, dusty and broken… staring up at the misty heights he’d been trying for so long to attain… Getting up each time had become increasingly difficult… This time, he can’t find the energy…

that final spark of hope has been extinguished..

Will he pick himself up?

Maybe a stranger will come along and guide him…

maybe even join him

Maybe together they will reach the top and discover a beauty undreamed of

Maybe… the grass will be green and the shade cool

The story is yet to play out….

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Homecoming

the door creaked as she pushed it open, the rusty hinges protesting after months of disuse and bad weather...
Almost as if they were unhappy at this intrusion into their private world
A thick layer of dust coated every surface...it was difficult to imagine people had once lived here.
As the door grudgingly opened to her pressure, as dust motes danced in the sunlight let in from behind her...
She blinked
and it seemed it seemed life had returned to the empty house...
She saw herself...a young child, un aware and uncaring of what life would bring... racing across the room followed by her pet dog...
She blinked
....and it was gone
She walked in....hesitantly exploring every room... and every room held a memory

Eating lightly salted water melon in the heat of her summer vacation
Watching her favorite movie for the umpteenth time on the dilapidated old color TV
sneaking her first drag of a cigarette up on the terrace
crying in the garden at her first heart break

So many memories... most of them faded and buried... all brought back to life by the dusty sights and smells
Finally, unable to bear the weight of the memories, she sank down to the floor, dust streaking her jeans...
The salty drops of water from her eyes creating shiny round jewels...
The house seemed to embrace her and they cried together, alone in the dusky light... alone in the world.
After what seemed like an eternity... although only a few minutes had passed... she pushed herself up, unmindful of the dirt... or maybe even finding comfort in it... a little something she could carry away with her...

She walked out, locking the door behind her... and walked away... not looking back.


She called me a few day later... and i asked
"did u visit the old place then ?"
"yes..i did drop by"
"How was it ?"
"You know what they say.... you can go back to an old house.... but you can never go home again"

I never heard from her again.