Of You, With You, In You!

-Memoirs of me and my little Dove-

Between the time I was born and now, there is She
Between me and my endless serenade of thoughts, there she is
Amidst my dreams and desires, she blossomed as the primrose

Every living minute whispers her name...
Every fadin second echoes her voice...
Every blink of my eye, she is there right n front of me.

Thought was too tough to let someone walk in
But here she is, like a fairy in the sky
I gaze and gaze at the blissful silence

This melancholic dream I live everyday
I know not what tomorrow holds
But sure I know she holds me in her heart

Time stood still, when her petal of lips
Flush with joy brushed mine in an eternal embrace
What makes a man want a woman so dear..I know now.

I have a dream now..to live a day with her
Watch her twist and turn under the blanket of nite
When she sleeps in zestful zeal

When she wakes up to the morning sun
As the gold dust makes her hair glow to the orange sun
What would she be, what would she like?

She may walk the fields of time
Years may pass by and I maynot be with her
The seasons may change..my love you may move on

Life comes once and you are there as part of me
And when my life flashes by..you will fill my mind
As fresh and new with warmth and love

You would light every lonely way of mine
When the night is long and cold
I would be there where the fire is, with you, thinking of you.

Under the same starry sky
You and me would linger on
To breathe in and rest in each others arms

--1:30AM

Alchemy

Another year walks in to history
Days and months vanishing beyond the horizon of time
evenings in amber fade to the yawning nite

The walls of december painted in snow white
when yesterdays and todays fade away
lost in time I play my role in an ever asking world

I look around and all I have is my self
I see my shadow, taller and taller
as the young nite driven on by time

Gets older, the gleam of the moon
lights the dark world, tucked by the pillow clouds
The mystery of life unfolds as the great galaxy in the sky

I wont walk on the face of earth forever, but she would
I cant count the shimmering stars but she can take it back
I cant ride the horse of time but she would

My slumber has only been of dreams
that rose and rose from the chimney of my mind
the smoke of doubt has cleared
the flame of life that ebbs with every breath of mine

I care less I dont care more but I carry the truth
and I want to live, amd I want to love
the self and the soul and what should not be

The river of dreams flows to the oceon of time
the candle glowing bright
the alchemy of life carries on...flutters on

I have seen them come I have seem them go
many left some faded few remained as immortals
I prefer to be beyond...and wish to be wanted

I wont last for long...and before its all over
I want to live, the way I want it, with the one I need
Nothing else matters.

Lonestar

One more week to go. Homewards and more, hasnt sink in much but the serenade has started. How did the years go I know not. So many faces, so many contours..between wrinkles and dimples I have seen life as it presented and as it moves on.

The dream of being a guitarist and doin one concert of my life has reached the dizzy heights, I guess it has vanished in to the world beyond the horizon of this two dimensional existence. I just visit them once in a while during these moments when I can care about nothing less.

At the end of the day, do you jump in bed and rest in peace? Or do you turn and turn with the turning seconds wondering and wandering? Do you give wings to your thoughts and let them roam under the endless sky, wild and free? Or do you have walls within that you are fighting each day to break it down? Does it feel like living or craving to live? Do you silently remember to forget and end up remembering more? Do you have a wish?

Go ahead and wish, the wave would ebb and hopes would rise with the decuman, before life passes by, all that matters is whether you got what you wanted. Cherish them before you lose them coz twenty years from now it would fill your heart with life. You would be glad it was yours

Last man standing

The hand of time sweeps the earth, nights lantern slowly flickers to a fulgent moon..the way of the stars stir a hushed night born blue sky, like star studded blue dress. I see the fire fly dance as she is lifted by the soft breath of a living night in the hallway of cold november month. No door or window opens to this world. Its right here and I'm standing in the middle of it. Yet we feel shelterless and seeking.

Do you hear whispers in the night or stare endlessly in to the distant horizon? So tangible yet absolute, all that connects me to this world is this breath I take. Inbetween there is just the unknown.

Rhythm of time -

Well in to the day now, do you feel the rhythm? do you feel the hunger? well if you dont then you dont belong here. Everyday when I used to climb those steep stairs to the gym with a thumping heart, the fire to beat the odds, the zeal to better myself. That was when I was truly alive, alive with the best of energy that woke me up at the first crack of dawn, freezing december mornings.

Somewhere along the road I've lost them, maybe it is buried under the depths of this wanderlust heart. Its not the way I want my self to be carried. I dont want to be carried, it has become a fuckin burden, its just too damn hard. The heavy me makes everything around heavier. Its like another gym, nd without the fire to lift no spotters around and everywhere them mirrors bring the worst out of me.

If you're a simple human being with simple thoughts and simple dreams then you dont care, you may not even feel the weight. And I'm not one amongst them, I have dreams and I struggle to bring them to my thoughts and I struggle more to bring them out of those yonder walls and in to the real world.

Its a struggle I know, and most of the time its been this way because I'd given much importance to everything other than me. Its a good feeling though that when the storm takes what it wants I get to build everything my own way. New.

Out in the desert the common thinker has just one need. To cross it. The one with free spirit has a different need. Stand there and watch the contours, see the desert come to life with passing time, when the shadows come to life and life transforms to become one with the desert. The free mind does not have boundaries, it cannot be anchored. It has a sail and it needs to sail. Time, place, weather all are just nuts and bolts of this panorama.

So long--

Understand The Me

Come here beside me, dont be afraid of darkness coz this too shall pass. Years and months as dust of time, the dawn would yawn again. Men would rise and walk the road, the day as the ship sailing on the sea of time, would carry this couldron of life, carry every living soul on the face of the earth to the shore of 'better tomorrow'

But nobody would get off, we all want tomorrows to be better than today. We never draw the line. Between these choices we exist by mere chance. Men and woman, sheltered and homeless, handicapped and handicapped (in my canvas theres no human who feels life fully), brothers and sisters, lovers and hater, friends and foes, earth and sky...between them all there is just space and time.

Listen up friend if you arent anywhere between ecstacy and mayhem, you are better off dead. Between dream and reality there is just me.

Is it so tough to accept where we come from?

One of those many nites which is not so rare but then doesnt happen too often. If this sentence is too twisted then thats how the subject I'm goin to deal with, is going to be. Again one of those young nites. My day has just started without the sun. Well who cares as it is winter anyways in Chicago. The day is so shy of being born that it hides behind a dark curtain. Temperature howling around 6C.

Just one of those days when I felt I should step back, get connected to my roots. By roots I mean my birth where I belong. When we think, we reach out to our self. But then that is communication too. So how do we think, our thoughts has a language too? We are just so obviously negligent of this fact. You dont want to think of what you think. Thats too deep.

I got lost tonite, well nothing new about it. The lost flame brightened with few beers but believe me that has nothing to do with the flame itself. It was because I got connected to my self, my roots. Growing up in a demanding environment where not knowing the number 1 hit in MTV count down is a sin, you start whats the fad of the day rather than what you exactly want.

Between ordinary and extra-ordinary you always choose the latter, because of the definition and not too many timed because of the content. Every line of these songs built on classical tunes gives me a deep massage stimulating and rich. I avoided them infact remember even thinking that listening to these songs was unsophisticated.

Now I have the most sophisticated things around. What more can one ask for than living the American dream. But then I'm more curious to get in touch with my roots. Know them, smell them, realise them and more so love them. I have travelled far thousands of miles in search of what I dreamnt. Now that I'm living the dream, I'm dreaming of the place I missed. I cant bridge this distance though. Neither can I measure it. Like the decuman, you are bound to be sunk.

The uncut man

Its five hours past midnite, the sun is oblivion of this side of the world. This is a world I hallucinate confined with in this walls I think and ponder. The realms of existence ceases as I personify a character. If you need to raise hell you should be a goliath beyond hell. The power to create does not equate to power to destroy. But then true power comes from with in. And this power is not of destroying others but of saving one self from being destroyed. Once in a while comes a moment that shakes the very root of your integrity. Rise to the challenge and take it by the horns

Wayward Son

Looking back 10 years, the cart near the highway was our resting place right after dinner and smoke. The blinding lights of speeding cars, the shimmering stars together with them clouds. It was all around us. We slipped in to time unknown a world beyond that existed only in our dreams. When I say us I refer to my chum Vicky. I never had a bro but he was all.

I'd been always a wayward son, wayward boy the kid who astrayed and saw the world through the moments eyes. Nothing else mattered then. Nothing. Everything that had life and was new with life made me ecstatic, high and lost. This is not a time of introspection, but sometimes when you are so in the midst of crowd you steal few moments to be on your own. I find these priceless. Whether it is to write a quick thought or compose a tasteless prose or a lifeless poem about my life.

Its one more month and I'll be visting home after 2 years almost. Time flew, 2 years and where 'am I? The world has not changed though why should I or should I? I still see the same emotions in different place, same people operating on different scale. No matter where you are the world is the same, happiness is only a piece everyone wants. There is a cost to it too. The means to it has become harder I guess.

Well yeah may be not..what do I know when I made it high priced. Arent we the one who sets a price to happiness? Who defines how to live your life, my life? Is it me? Sometimes I even wonder whether I'm in control of my life or do I put my poor self to the endless chauvinistic obligations of a restless world I'm surrounded by.

The thought to break free never ceases, the more it clings on to me the more I try. I end up walking on the clutches of past and present on the road to the future. I believe this to be the one, night and day I travel. I listen but the words dont last forever. I look but the vision gets blurred after the scene. The vision of being alive only lasts so far when thinking ceases completely. It gets to a cessation and I relent to keep it that way. The struggle for better ground is so profound. This is when I take forms.

Staring at the high flyin eagle I imagine its me, soaring high and clear, where the whispering cliffs are mere specs and mankind below is an unknown. The perennial river suits my thirst, I appreciate life as much as it appreciates my life. At this point high I'm one, in one with the cosmos and everything around. I see the oneness everywhere, when the endless sea meets the sky, when the mountains rise to whisper to the moon, when the gliding breeze sails on the great blue oceon. I see it all as one, together in synergy, as fresh as the bud as new as the new born, as timeless as time.

The songs of my journey

The other day I was watching 'sex in bible' and everything about song of songs. History is made not only by strong men, but by men with strong weaknesses too.

Its just a minute away from midnite, the candle glows brightly to oblivion. Pearl Jam's 'Keep on rockin in a free world' fills the air, crushed cans of MGD lay strewn pell mell, the window blinds muttering to the gushing wind as cold air tailed with the smell of fall season freshens the room. As delicate as a shadow and as unseen as the nite, the stranger in me yet so wonted wanders the face of time.

I stare outside to the distane gleam of the harbour lights, yet another ship makes it home. But I have just set out on this journey with songs which my heart sings, rocked by one restless soul.

The beauty of the nite is its endlessness, you can see no boundaries and when you see one it doesnt stay for long. The longer it stays then you know its time for you to move on.

Why parallel world? asks John and Jane

The movie 'Beach' in many ways was tangy, sour, bitter, gasping, refreshing and finally unparalleled in its own ways. This is where I got the caption 'Parallel World'. I could relate myself to this movie in a myriad ways. One way or another my search which is still on, was once for that spot. Now lets re-define the word 'spot', it can refer to a 'person' in a relationship, or a 'spot' as in an awe-inspiring nature spot. Whatever be it, we all are looking for that to get connected. Did I find one? Yes. Did I lose it? No, I let go. More of the letting go, to come.

My first post on posting

And then there is this blog where I find myself delicately letting go of whatever I felt and feel reeling under the canopy of words, that sometimes words are so meaningless and can only come so close to being finally deceptive.