I would rather die of some kind of Blue...
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Friday, May 26, 2006
little souls of mine...
I believe every word has a soul.Every word i speak this summer afternoon will be there, long after i am dead and gone. Conceived in my mind as thoughts, they begin their long journey from my lips to a world where they are sadly unwanted. A world that is as hostile as it is ignorant. They travel through the air-as vibrations fainter than the faintest whisper-in their tireless 'tryst with destiny'.
Even when you thought everything is forgotten and buried, they are moving through space and time, through darkness and silence. When you say you d'ont know a thing, they pass you a knowing smile...you always know they do...their little souls are all the luggage they carry, all that they care for, fight for, fly for.
And every little soul is a part of the one fat soul i am. But as i speak, i get thinner...and i am dead when i have nothing more to say...but i live still; in the little souls that have sailed far far away.
Beyond the clutches of money, of sex, of sin. They know they have to run. For me. From you. If you could, you will probably bury them alive...for every smile they throw at you, takes you closer to me. Even when i am not there. They will live. I know.Only, you know better.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Monday, May 22, 2006
A New Lesson...
i learnt a new lesson yesterday.
but i wonder if i can afford the tution charges.
i am poor.
i will try to manage.
don't see how.
the police will put me to the gallows if i fail to pay.
i am afraid of the police.
i heard the tollygunge police OC is a pretty hard man.
i will try to escape.
no one will then ever find me.
of course i will miss my tutor.
i loved her.
but i wonder if i can afford the tution charges.
i am poor.
i will try to manage.
don't see how.
the police will put me to the gallows if i fail to pay.
i am afraid of the police.
i heard the tollygunge police OC is a pretty hard man.
i will try to escape.
no one will then ever find me.
of course i will miss my tutor.
i loved her.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
stellar deadlock
Stars are moving apart, they say...
Hours of tedious calculations later
They are where they were-
Too far to be reached...
...not in dreams though.
Hours of tedious calculations later
They are where they were-
Too far to be reached...
...not in dreams though.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Home is where...
End of another week
A week of bonhomie
Of a million waving, polite-smiling
Gosh-you-are-bunking-too giggles
What-happened-to-my-tea shouts
Sorry-don't-have-a-single-buck-to-lend lies
Of the barely- there- yet-so-much-spare 'looks'
End of another week of trying-to-be-happy
Shit! I must be trying too hard
For I miss you already
The long spaces that squatter on our conversations
Those what's-there-to-be-said silences
The heard-so-many-times-yet-oh-so-loved stories
Memories that we shared
Seem to humble the freshly smashed dreams
As I sit alone on the college-terrace this friday afternoon
I want so much to run away-
Run to you
When I know I cannot
You still feel so much like Home...
A week of bonhomie
Of a million waving, polite-smiling
Gosh-you-are-bunking-too giggles
What-happened-to-my-tea shouts
Sorry-don't-have-a-single-buck-to-lend lies
Of the barely- there- yet-so-much-spare 'looks'
End of another week of trying-to-be-happy
Shit! I must be trying too hard
For I miss you already
The long spaces that squatter on our conversations
Those what's-there-to-be-said silences
The heard-so-many-times-yet-oh-so-loved stories
Memories that we shared
Seem to humble the freshly smashed dreams
As I sit alone on the college-terrace this friday afternoon
I want so much to run away-
Run to you
When I know I cannot
You still feel so much like Home...
the other side of the river-a funny story of a day of cable black-out
There were a thousand things that I could have said that day...no...make it nine hundred and eighty six.A part of me was already rehearsing the dialogues...u don't know what you are saying...but this is so goddamned unfair...but what happened to all the things you said?...and all the things we planned...
...and a part of me settled in the deep knowing, that nothing I do or say would change a thing; that this was one of those points in one's life when vocabulary is a wretched burden...like conscience.
...a part of me wanted to stand up and fight, like a drowning man fights for breath; like people in flood-hit villages fight for ration...
...and a part of me wanted to disappear, just like that, ...like smiles in the times of war; run away from everywhere, from everything I knew, from everything I cared for, from everything I ever, even faintly associated with the dreams that will never be.
...a part of me wanted to cling to every word, every little sigh she let out; like people at Noah's arc hoarded food just before the big flood came...
...and a part of me could not even hear half the things she was said. It wished that I had ears that I could flap close - like the funny little man in the All-Out ad.
...someone inside me said...you can't keep silent like this...wait, this is important; how can you let it pass like this?...You should at least say something moving, you know...there may still be chances, you know...she might be touched, you know...she might wake up oneday with a realisation...you never know...and ,and...
Suddenly, I realised that I was not a part of this...that I was just a spectator...a spectator who watches but does not react...like we watch DD National when the cable connection gets blacked-out...I took the remote and switched off the television...better be without T.V. than watch DD soaps...I was relieved.
...and a part of me settled in the deep knowing, that nothing I do or say would change a thing; that this was one of those points in one's life when vocabulary is a wretched burden...like conscience.
...a part of me wanted to stand up and fight, like a drowning man fights for breath; like people in flood-hit villages fight for ration...
...and a part of me wanted to disappear, just like that, ...like smiles in the times of war; run away from everywhere, from everything I knew, from everything I cared for, from everything I ever, even faintly associated with the dreams that will never be.
...a part of me wanted to cling to every word, every little sigh she let out; like people at Noah's arc hoarded food just before the big flood came...
...and a part of me could not even hear half the things she was said. It wished that I had ears that I could flap close - like the funny little man in the All-Out ad.
...someone inside me said...you can't keep silent like this...wait, this is important; how can you let it pass like this?...You should at least say something moving, you know...there may still be chances, you know...she might be touched, you know...she might wake up oneday with a realisation...you never know...and ,and...
Suddenly, I realised that I was not a part of this...that I was just a spectator...a spectator who watches but does not react...like we watch DD National when the cable connection gets blacked-out...I took the remote and switched off the television...better be without T.V. than watch DD soaps...I was relieved.
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