Theme of life

Set out on a long journey; the river has wound and unwound to the signs of days and nights until here at this moment as I look around and see how far I've drifted from everything I knew and touched. A journey I set out with no instruments to guide and none to tell what the weather has in store next. So much time spent in preparing for life when one is already wading through life knee deep and not realising it. The irony of it all; for a future that is never distant but right here as now.

life as a tune what if played backwards? a thousand years from the setting sun would man still walk on earth?from the shadows of a deserted night rises questions that is as deep as the mind, eyes can't see what the mind does. It is an endless reflection that ripples from a vibrant heart that wells with ecstacy when it find moments that are so surreal and serene.
I have always dreamed of the youth I lost and a million ways I could set things right, if given a second chance. But you can't go back. Time sure passes, but it doesn't erase. I turn through the pages of my yester years like picture album of memoirs, flash upon flash in a silent shudder they shimmer and fade back nestled in the grave as they rise and fall.
to dream is to be awake in slumber, reaching out to the space and time that exists somewhere where there is no life but just ether. remember the time when I used to take long walks after college hours, just to be lost and not find a familiar face. I seeked shelter in a qualm that cannot be defined with the wealth of words.
RIP my past!

Whispers in the dark

The chords of emotions reverberate with a melancholic qualm
when the winds from the past ripple the still waters of the day
in some strange way these sounds quell the distant mournof a lost soul that is seeking for answers from beyond!

The Spring has woven itself in to another rainy tuesday
freckles of blue I see through these tree tops
a straggler dark cloud comes to life, leaving everything else
drenched in their colors, scurring for shade.

The minute breaks its silence and shadows fill my sky
Wide awake, I dream it out – landscapes that exists somewhere
A wanderlust heart that gallops the mile, upon earthen land and desert sands
As said, this journey too will have its secrets, a curious traveler so unaware!

Dreaming of the past

Those bicycle rides on lonely roads, stars punched in the distant sky with the melting sun disappearing behind the horizon. I traded thoughts for dreams and lingered with a rich soul. Friends were there, we shared our worlds. The past lingers on!

Forever Young?

Sometimes when I look at it, it all seems to so simple. The decision is mine to make and the life mine to live. Just me. But then there it is, the selfish ring where I go round and round. So to satisfy oneself, you have to look inwards. To correct oneself you've to look inwards. More of introspection leaves a man self-centered. You completely miss the view that this ride presents you with. You stare at the endless sky missing all that you pass through. Come monday and you look forward to friday. With the weekend you plan for the long weekend. Is it that we always look for the ending. This journey to end? Why birth when all we desire is death. Or is it just that we need this journey to pause?

People huddled together on a crowded street, draped in black as speckles of dark ants they march home. Running to catch the train, bound by its timings. It is only natural that one thing leads to another. During this run they miss that homeless man on the pavement who is in no hurry. Just few quarters for a suare meal. Hours passed, men and women marched past, but his present has not changed and he grew richer by a quarter. How much does this human's life cost?
Birth places and crowded rooms with happy faces to see a new born. Fresh as a newborn baby, as it inhales from this great couldron of life. Fast forward some 60 years and I see an old lady in a wheel chair sitting in the porch of an Elderly home. Her wrinkled cheeks hasn't seen a kiss in years, longing and deserted. What hapenned inbetween? Does age ridicule company? You cannot connect the dots nor join those two points, the start and end. It's just a winding road inbetween and there are no two points maybe.

Of those millions of songs that have come out, all sung for love. Heard by billions through out. Still love is so heard to come by for so many. I feed all the wrong emotions and let them run loose in my fields of life; only to look back through pained eyes high on regret

What one wants is only the beginning. Once you know what next? I mean are you willing to give 100% to attain that? It separates an ordinary life to living today for the moment amidst ecstacy. But if ecstacy itself is elusive, what is it eluding? and where 'am I hiding from the invisible?
Something is wrong in the picture or the words I throw in this canvas. Mind can only wander so much...after a while it gets lost. When the fire dies, you can't make much from the ashes.
In Solitude I seek company! Gods have come and got punished by man. They couldn't fix this world we're building, nor do we know what is in store.

The world may be a circle but life should not be self-centered.

Time and Travel

The travels I've made in my heart cannot be surpassed by the real travels on road. I've seen a thousand places that has no address, no road can take you there. It remains hidden, just a secret passage through time I travel.
I've ridden these thoughts a million time. I dissected for answers and always end up with more questions. The truth is, the places I saw in my dreams were un-occupied beautiful and serene. Listening to Fleetwood Mac's As long as you follow - made me think of the west with rain drenched roads, wet and calling, mid-summer breeze brushing through as I ride the long road under a fulgent moon. But the truth is, the picture I painted was what I desired. I never found the place.
My travels in my heart will never end nor will the dreams. They don't have boundaries nor maps. I can sail whenever I want wherever I want and still the weather will do me good. My diaries will recollect the days through pages written by the hand of time. They true might fade away. I have a little girl to carry that torch. maybe she will see the dream and live through it. I'll dream for her.
But I'm done travelling. I just want to go home.

The Haze

Days pass by, swift and silent in the shadows of time. I'm staring at yet another winter. Wandering in time and aging with un-finished dreams. The hollow bark always attracts unseen visitors, they come and go as seasons change.

The road ahead, dark and desolate, just one call that keeps echoing through and through. Familiar pangs resonate to the distant hum.

Beyond the invisible

The last couple of days were lengthy and dark. I'd been walking back wards in time, treading on the stones that I avoided earlier. Nothing worse than losing one self knowingly. 'am I expecting some drama here? When the curtain has fallen, the audience move on.

I introspect inbetween these deep breaths and look at all those stones I'd thrown. Shattered few glasses here and there, some of them happen to be mine. Looking back through this cracked mirror, I see images of me all distorted and shady. I'd been hiding from myself and running from the truth. The long drawn sword of truth always itches to taste the blood of the beholder.

Pain is no visitor to me, I grew up with it and at some point was so alive being lifeless. At times I hear those shrill screams, the last of those days always wanders home to me. I find them and lift them to these blinded eyes.

I hear the claps of the passing clouds, distant rumble of thunder rolls through the blue sky. A dot of rain speckles the green leaves. I look up to trees, that dance and wriggle shedding off those leave that are weak. They drift by aimless and meek. I realize I have to shed some too.

The next few seconds crawl in to the vacuum of time, lost and gone. The breeze breathes less and less until it all rests. A dull silence fills the air, heavy and loud. The night empties it's couldron of darkness, a disappearing blur and an empty sky is all it takes to fill a disturbed mind.

With orphaned thoughts that know no end. The sky splits wide open with a streak of lightening, branching to the farthest corners of the earth starting the sprinkler in the sky.

No better feeling than this, soaked with out a purpose. No path no land, don't want no home nor any hearts around. Alone at this moment. I think of this world, so full of mourners. Wanderers in time salvaging whatever we can and living between choices and roads.

A quite hum fills my heart, I'm in no race with time. I have it all as I don't have any. I've lost them all to the past, today is just a sign of making it through. So hurrah! I made it, I maketh my own destiny. In the run I kill few dreams, live the chances and love the differences.

Ah! Love as a subject and want. I get washed away through it's course. I see valleys and mountains, streams and falls, all taking it's own course. It's a dance and I have to find a partner. Lost souls trying to make it to the end, that comes always uninvited.

The wind reads my story, time flips the pages. A book whose ending I can never read, just live it all day by day -

Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark

To travel back in time...to turn back the clock & walk the road all over again. Just Once!
Its dark and lonely, this mid-summer night's call.

Sweet lullaby

The deserted sky flung atop this satiated night
her fabric of darkness runs to the farthest corners
A still moon lies low poised on those ebbing waves
I walk the distance to the tip of the shore

I can see the faces of the moon
smiling upon this mortal kind
A sight so arresting that it sets my mind free, so free

my heart gallops a thousand miles
from past to present between those moments
when life stood still and ecstacy took over
when serenity was undone and wild

everytime I tred these shores and those waves
wet my dried up memories, a qualm that roars
to the mountains behind and yonder to those sailing clouds
i walk the distance to the tip of the shore

pebbles scattered in disarray washed up once in a while
somewhere in this ether lies my bygones
i walk the lane on this lonesome nite
so longing so real, as life itself

The riddle

It's winter in Chicago, temperatures dropping as low as -20C just enough to make me see the air I breathe. The lake has frozen yet again, as sheets of ice float and wriggle to a grizzly wind, the mundane march of mankind carries on.

How do you seclude a sequestered life that has galloped faster than time? I once thought about the loneliness of the past. How lost it should be, sometimes heavy some times as easy as the summer breeze. With it floats the scent of life that's caught in the funnel of time and slips to the present.

There is a lull, calmness so serene fostered by a splitting silence, this vision is so witnessed..by me in the past. A moment so familiar and un-tampered. It's a feeling that can only be made traquil because of the scars it carries, a life so young that it can only get old, a space so free that you can only race..this mind so occupied that it can only be emptied. There is nothing to lose at all, you are going to lose anyways.

How privileged 'am I?

One of those winter noons. The sun is dipping behind the puffy snow clouds, the left out light put out by the shady clouds. One of those days when I prefer to drop the blinds, turn on the yellow neon lights and let them shimmer out the darkness behind.

One of those days when I start my day with beer, feel elated and think I have the cure. Yeah, sure thing one of those days that happens to be my every other day. Suddenly out from nowhere springs a thought..no end for them though. I've realized that thoughts are directly proportional to the space in an emptied out bottle. I'm only glad that mine is pure and selfless.

This one happens to be on homelessness. Isn't it a privilege to wake up in the morning and not ACTUALLY worry about food? I mean I worry more about what my breakfast would be. Now I think of people who wake up in the morning with their stomachs growling and crying for one piece of loaf. The heart has got so numb that it doesn't know hunger anymore. Just another pain to live with.

I take a look around me. My comfort zone which doesn't make me happy anymore. Being relative stops when you stem from reality. For me right now reality is utopia. It is of being selfless. For a minute let me step outside this body and soul and take a look around. What do I get to see?

How priviliged are they not? The Gita and Bible and Quran does not answer the man in pain. To a hungry man, religion does not fucking matter. It does not. He has better qualms to silence. AM I not the sum? The ONE? If then, 'am I not answerable to that man's call?

Why do I walk away?

Beyond closed eyes

I look around this empty space
This endless drift of time has its toll

Age has crept into me in silence
'am I old enough to answer my past

The nite sneaks into my room
Casting dark shadows across

I rest on my elbow watching
There is another falling star

Another wayward cloud sails home
I watch and wonder at this web of life

I'm here, and this whole moment is mine
I only have to keep my eyes open.

Sequel

Is there a sequel to my life?
I ask and search..and rummage in darkness

The voice rings the chords of my breath
Them all, settles down with the dust of the day

Sadness..Happiness
wants and wishes...

The slow moon climbs
To the deserted heights

Perched on top of the dark tree of nite
She calls with unquenched thirst

Time ebbs..slow and steady
The sands of time, combed with the free wind

who wakes the Sun...who calls the nite
Orphans? or wanderers?

You and me..long in silense
As echoes in darkness

That calls and calls
to a time unknown, to a time unseen.

Serenity

I'd always wanted myself to flow
To flow alongst the river

To drift with the clouds
To sail with the wind

To transcend this life
And be some one else

To fathom the courage
To be someone else

Less benevolent than me
To be them, him..her

Whatever it takes
Share my life

Its a call, that last longer than the day pr the nite
Or the echoes that whispers in the valley

The valley of lives
Or the depths of souls

The longin lasts
The calls of my craving

Life as it presents
only lasts to its absence

I maybe wrong or right
I maybe present or past

The truth remains
I'm just another form

Breathin nd livin
To give it all.......to give it all

The Song Of Life

I have to tell you this
Those day how much I miss

Long road shimmering with sparkles of gold dust
The hour with in a minute's reach of twilite

Was me, the road, 'nd them
Together alone, just in time to savour the day

I feel the sand in my hands
Through the window of the beach

I saw the world beyond
When my dreams knew no horizon

It was about the hour
About the minute

Seconds never rested
I just used 'em all.

The ecstacy of memories

Its been awhile since I touched this canvas. A case of days seeing less of me. I do live in them, just dont have time to jive. At this age I gotto love the things I grew old with. Being young is no more an illusion, but a feeling thats alive. They are alive so long I've memories, so long I live in my past...on occassions. These times present itself. I dont care when and where, if its nite then I'm a dreamer, if its day then I'm sailing on the high seas.

Memories are what makes us better. But then the paradox of life is, I dont remember living them moments, but I do now. All I remember are the laughter and sunshine, endless days and seamless nites, friends from every corner and love from all ends. I dont remember anything bad about it.

Is it me? Is it the ME in me...that laughed silently, talked charmingly day after day, breathed with an apetite for life and fed on my living moments. Those are the days, those are the times.

I also stop to smile how much, just how much this life has me in its clutches. The road I travelled, the people I met, the songs that opened me to a whole new world.

Ah! to fathom them all, if I'm to speak about 'em all..it should be the longest yarn...I would weave and weave and weave.

The fabric would be a rainbow.

Nothing is Everything

I'm scared of my thoughts
Its like an endless abyss
The more I think the more I sink
The gravity of the abyss - so fierce and thirsty

I keep looking around
familiar faces vanish
as reflections on rippled water
the stillness so aloud

Of screams and echoes
of deserts and storms
dry and turbulent
cloud faced sorrow passes the land

the drift is complete and profound
I see the dust settle down
the setting sun moans a melody
to the enliven nitewhat a life, what is life

I roam, I wander, I look, I ponder
in the end I look to her
as humanely as possible
so much in disguise
Shes hidden in them all

in the blue bathed sea wasped
by the sky scapes
in the dormant volcano
ready to breathe again

from land to sea, from the depths to the ether
I stand with a very small chance, I just have time,
enough to breathe it all in
breathe out life, nothing else, nothing more.

Serenade - The Ballad Of LIfe

Still of the night
I can hear the very distant moan
Of the roaming breeze...
fades away lonely and lost

wasped in this darkest hour
I can see life flowing on, on and on
The night breathes along
Of shadows and stars

not many a times does this ecstacy
so familiar still a stranger
has a tryst with me
we sit together during the time

when we forget to yawn
wide awake to life
I surrender, to bygones, to todays and tomorrows
For I know this moment has its moment too

Sand dunes

The sun has left me thirsty and parched
As a fine mid-summer night brews a wanderlust heart
I see my future glow in the satin night
Between my eyes and the yonder sky

Only these dreams that talk to me
carried on the drifting wind westwards she flows
these dreams that blossomed with the night
I vanish behind this nightscape..profoundly silent, unnoticed

The moments spill out from the couldron of time
Scattered and robbed of my breath ...I sail away
I swim and surf to the contours of my thoughts
they never cease to talk and I never stop to listen