Krisna

As I passed him, all seemed to stop for a few moments.

The boy with the kind smile,
I knew it was HIM.
The dark skinned child with the mysterious smile,
I knew it was HIM.
The dimpled cheek, the crooked smile,
I knew it was HIM.
The strange look in the eyes,
I knew it was HIM.
The confident stance,
I knew it was HIM.
The glance into my soul,
I knew it was HIM.
The look of one very wise, the eternal knowledge in his eyes--too strange for such a young child,
I knew it was HIM.

People think I am crazy, but deep in my heart I feel, the dark skinned child with the beautiful smile was definitely HIM.

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"Fear Not. What is not real, never was and never will be. What is real, always was and cannot be destroyed."
-Bhagavad Gita

Diamonds in the dark

I was driving into the night because there was too much waiting, I did not want to wait there staring at the people walking or at the other people who were also waiting. I didn't want to feel like I was in the middle of everyone, everything, even when I really wasn't. And so I passed the bus stop without stopping, and drove off into a direction I had never gone to. I passed a lab, a couple of odd buildings, a few houses, but eventually there were no longer any houses or buildings, only trees and small lanes branching off. My thoughts turned to myself. I realized suddenly what a fool I had been. The grandest one. Others had fooled me, and I had fooled myself. I grinned in the darkness. It was almost laugh out loud funny. Almost. And what was this new character I had developed? I asked myself. I answered back: A mask. A mask? How pathetic. And scary. When I looked into the mirror, was it a stranger I saw? Or me with a mask? Or well, just me? Maybe it wasn't a mask. It was just what I have become, what I am becoming. A thought far more scarier. I don't know, I said to myself. You don't know. Myself told me. I said out load: I am a fool who is pathetic, malicious and confused. Then I did laugh out loud. My own laughter brought me out of my thoughts and I suddenly remembered, that I had to head back to the bus stop. So I entered into one of the side paths. This path turned out darker than the road I had turned from. Suddenly I felt a choking sense of defeat. In the process of taking a U-turn, I stopped. I asked myself. How had I let everything happen so? Or was it really I who had let it happen? I stayed so for a few moments thinking, until I sensed a moment in the trees lining the path. I turned the car towards the trees unknowingly, and there in the complete darkness I saw a pair of eyes. Shining. Fear gripped me. I froze. I stared at them, and the eyes stared back at me. I saw nothing but the eyes. What could they belong to? Moments passed. Suddenly the deer stepped forward. Its beauty startled me. And I felt relieved. Not only from fear but something else. The deer walked off into the woods, and I turned the car around and went back to the bus stop, no longer thinking about my self.

Reputo...Facio

Maybe it had always been so, but I didn't know that. I had walked in the first time and discovered what I thought as chaos. Books strewn everywhere, note papers scattered about, chairs placed randomly. It wasn't a large room but the way everything was oriented, it seemed large enough to get lost in. To my joy I looked around to discover no one about. I settled at one the many tables, the particular one had Plato's "Apology" and "Leviathan" by Hobbes on it. I didn't look at them though, because I hadn't come here to read. I was here to think. Really think. By myself. Think. Think. Think. Thats all.
And so I thought. Kept on thinking. So many thoughts. That's until a man entered the room pulling me out of my caliginous thoughts. The man was old. White hair, wrinkly skin. He was very tall, almost gangly. But what really seemed to stand out were his eyes. Twinkly, bright, full of life. Without asking he pulled one of the chairs and sat down.
"Ooh so you have discovered the room."
I didn't say anything. Just stared.
"How do you like it?"
It was a question, that I needed to answer.
"Its chaotic"
"Well....how do you like it though?"
I thought about it. Did I like the room. It was too disoriented.
"I dont hate it nor love it. Its too disoriented for me"
"Well then, stop thinking so much and go make it the way you want"
I wasnt sure what he was talking about, so I just stared.
"Stop thinking soo much about your life or this room for that matter, act! Make it the way you want to. Stop thinking.Act.Right now.Go"
I stood up. His words almost like a an awakenning of some kind. I looked around the room. I put the chairs where they belong, I stacked the notepapers, put the books back on the shelf. And soon the room was less chaotic.
By the time I came back to the table, the man was gone.
Since that day I came to that chaotic room everyday. But I never saw him again. I looked for his in the hallways. In other rooms. But never saw him.
But I always remember the old man with the twinkly eyes. Who made me act more, think a bit less.

Shallow Friendship

Hadn't they both expected something more from each other?
They had. For sure.
And expectations always seem to betray them.
And it has now once again.

There is a aloofness about them now.
So easy for it to be gone.
But they fail to see that. Or don't let their so called "dignity" see it.
Or maybe they do, and think the other doesn't.

They try to act normal with each other, but the awkwardness is apparent.
The old companionship is long gone.
Why so?
Because they fail to recognize to each other, that it has.

Maybe when they will.
Slowly the old familiarity will be back.
Maybe their friendship will emerge stronger?

Till then.
They will go on sharing a superficial bond.
And missing those old wonderful moments they had together.

The dark hollows

Short crisp hair. Gangly. Hooked nose.
Three forgot. One would always remember.
Crooked smile.
Another changed.

Three forgot. Forgot?
Will never remember.

The lonely table. The suppressed grins.
The vast hallways, too narrow to hide.

The brown bag. The red circled calender.
The brown cupcake. The red nose.

The old friend now foe.
The high nose(with something smelly under it)

The deep ditch. The high jump.
The prickly feeling. The unpleasant words.

The shrill calls. The push in the back.
The narrow eyes. The "supposed" all knowing smile.

Whispered looks, the unanswerable questions.
The dark throat. Unpleasant comment heard.

The pitiful looks, the rushed tears.
The ganging up. The whispered conversations.

Unnoticed self. The purpose of class discussion.
A rumor? started.
Bringing everything down.

The so called "knowing" me.

The dark hollows of the brain. Not to be seen.
Not ones for which the light should be shown.

Blah.

I had a dream about you.
You weren't really there. But you were.
It was dark and you were there like a bright light.
There was so much mystery around you, at least in the beginning.

And then slowly the dream drew in more colors,
I learned much about you, and you about me.

But in truth, did we really understand each other?
I think we did, but not fully.

And in the end, you killed me. In the dream that is.
After a happier you.
Just like that.

Though I didn't die.
I bled. But didn't die.

Weird that the dream came.
Why do I think its about you.
It may not be about you, but I think it is.

I think I am being harsh, saying its about you.
But thats how I feel. What can I do? Can I change what I feel?
I cant do anything.

Phase

I went through a phase.

A phase in which many things happened at once.

A phase in which I cocooned myself yet the same time flew all around as a butterfly.

A phase in which I had some great times yet many moments of the worst.

During this time I felt things I never felt before. Feeling that I still, having a hard time understanding.

I learned many new things. About others, about life, my self.

I learned of some qualities of myself(or maybe I did know of them before but didnt truly acknowledge them), causes of some which gave me much remorse yet others that made me truly happy.

Through this all I have changed.

I dont know if it can be called a change, but I have realized that now I am letting myself get lost in some aspects of myself that I supressed for a while.

There are some people I need to apologize to, others I need to thank.

But I plan on during neither. Doing so would be absurd and irrelevant.

For the people I thought I knew, I think I know, and will get to know :)

The lies, the liars

She loves to lie, that girl.
No, that would be a lie.

She cant stop herself from telling lies.
She starts lying and soon she is buried under their weight.
She carries these lies along with her everywhere.

What makes her do it?
She says they make her feel better.
Do they?
She says they make her feel different?
Do they?
She says they have become part of her.
Not lying she says is like lying to herself.
maybe.

Lately her lies have become transparent.Independent.
The lies no longer string together.
They have become easily recognizable.

Everyone always knew she lied.
But now they know that everyone knows that she lies.

Now they see her and say,
here is the girl who lies.
They move away from her, whispering.
Shunning her.

But she laughs, the girl.
Hysterically.

For she knows.
Not only her, everyone else also had always been lying.
That everyone is a liar.

Friend and a Friend

Sachiv stood staring at the card he had made. Would Bheru like it, he wondered. The card was a square piece of paper with a line that started straight, curving down to the right. It read, "I am Sorry". Under it, the boy had drawn two stick figured boys, with smiles that were as wide as the faces. His friend, Bheru stood across from him, he stared at his shoes and stole quick glances towards Sachiv. Sachiv was nervous, he wondered whether he and Bheru would be friends again. Bheru was his best friend, and who would he play cricket with if Bheru wasn't there?

Yesterday had been like any other day, they had both walked from their bus and before going home had decided to meet as always at 4:30, after finishing homework. Today they planned on playing football. It was different everyday, sometimes football, or cricket, or maybe basketball. They always played with Sachiv's toys, as Bheru didnt have any. Sachiv didnt mind at all, he liked sharing his toys. At 4:30 Sachiv reached the playground with his football. He kicked around the ball as he waited for his friend. Bheru showed up eventually, he came walking, his hands in his pockets, his face grim.
"Oh there you are, your lateee" Sachiv exclaimed, kicking the ball towards Bheru. Bheru didnt kick the ball back. He stood still, staring at Sachiv with a mixed expression.
"Helloo, whts wrong with you? Don't you wanna play?"
No reply from Bheru.
"We can play cricket if you want, I'll go bring the bat"
Bheru walked towards his friend, and said in a low voice.
"Shut up Sachiv. I dont want to play with YOUR cricket bat, YOUR basketball, YOUR football....I hate you, leave me alone."
Sachiv stood still for a moment, and then he pushed his best friend, and screamed,
"Fine then, I dont wanna be you friend. You dont even have a toy to play, how will you play. I never wanna talk to you again. Leave...go away."
Bheru stood up, his hands were scraped. His expression of anger had turned into sadness.
He said again in a low voice.
"I am sorry". And then he turned around and ran.
Sachiv felt bad right away. He had pushed his friend, and said bad things to him. And he wasn't able to say sorry. He decided he would make a card for him and give it to him the next day at bus stop. But he didnt undersatnd why his friend had said what he had. He was always nice.

Within the next ten minutes, before the bus came Sachiv and Bheru became friends again. Soon after, the event was completely forgotten and Sachiv didn't wonder why Bheru had acted so the day before. But as the days went, Bheru came out to play lesser and lesser. At times he didn't come out for days. And when Sachiv would go to his house, and knock on the door, no one would open the door. Though often times he would hear screaming, and someone shouting from inside. Eventually within the year Bheru and his family moved away from the town. In the beginning Sachiv cried for his friend, but eventually he forgot him as he made new friends.

It was only years later he would remember his friend again, when he would hear his mother offhandedly mention Bheru and his family. The financial problems they had been in, the fights his parents had all the time. The screaming and shouting, neighbors could hear. At that time, Sachiv suddenly remembered his first real friend. Bheru. Who had always been nice, except in the last few months before he had left. He remembered the time Bheru refused to play with him, and the new knowledge made him realize the reason behind Bheru's strange behavior.

Years later when Sachiv would be trying to understand people's behavior, he would often delve into the reasons. He knew reasons didn't always justify behaviors, but there were always reasons. And he would often wonder about Bheru, who had taught him this.

Subtleties

The bending road, curves into the impossibilities of life,
along with the road the mind travels.
It stops as the red dot emerges, spreading.
The minds starts to wonder as to what lies beyond itself
It tries to grasp the subtleties governing it.
Unable to grasp, it shudders
Had it truly never understood itself?

All this time, never had it stopped and thought.
Life had went on, like a lazy stream.

Was happiness, gaining respect by being what someone had asked one to be
Or
Is unhappiness living a life in which one truly doesnt know oneself,
living a life of dishonesty, not only cheating others but also oneself.

The board of Destiny

The pond in the gloomy sunset looked red
like blood
A bad omen.
Foreshadowing the destruction the morning would cause?

What had I done?
For
the humiliation I had felt, the hardships I had faced
how much had I let vengeance take over me...

Would I be the destruction of the world I knew,
of my husbands, my brother, my sons, the brother of my husband they knew not of.
Would I be the cause of bloodshed, the unrighteousness that will come about in the next eighteen days?

Or.
Was all this never in my hands
Was it already etched into palms, written on foreheads, laid somewhere out there as the fate of mankind long before the epitome of time came about.
Was I just a player in the hands of destiny?
A dice thrown as a clever strategy to end what needed to end, and to start anew?

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Dedicated to: Panchaali

Influenced by: The palace of Illusions and the Mahabharata

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The thread no longer intact

What had I expected?
A thread forever stretching, connecting us.
Regardless of the circumstances, regardless of time--and its way of snapping invisible threads

How easily one forgets the brighter days, only remembering those few dreary ones...
Which end up changing relationships.

Maybe we understand little, assume too much
And expect a lot more then we should
Delving forever into the mistakes? that the other makes

What remains now are just the awkward silences between conversations filled with fluff

The thread no longer intact...

Believing in Beliefs

A few years ago I would have considered myself to be spiritual. I believed strongly. I believed regardless of what may be happening. Something inside of me that I could hold on it. It enabled me to get through many things without having to look for something beyond it, outside of me. And then suddenly the belief disappeared. Just like that. I can say it may have happened around three years ago when I was washed away by other things, superficial things. I tucked the belief inside of me, I ignored it and almost let it all go. Ironically at that time I assumed that I was more spiritual, a stronger believer. But I was wrong. And when things unexpectedly started hitting me, tripping me, hurting me I looked for support in other places not once believing in the belief hiding somewhere inside. And just when I thought I had failed completely, I believed once again. Suddenly it was back. And I found myself on the path again. The belief had bought back a lot to me. A closure and a beginning. It bought back confidence, a sense of direction.
Whether it is belief in God, or a child's belief that their blanket can keep them safe or other beliefs, it is beliefs and the hopes that they bring that keep us going at times.

Someone special

In the path of life we come across many people

Some we never forget.

They are the people who...
Even though at one point may not travel the path with you...
return in the form of warm memories.

People who are special and unforgetful.
Who have made you smile, made your days brighter.

Happy Birthday Zephyr27
May all yours dreams come true.

A glassed fu'ad

Ties.
Build homes in hearts...
of glass.
Beautiful but very fragile
Easily shattered by a mistrusted stone.
Into thousands, millions of pieces...
forever broken?
Never to be rebuilt?

Time, it will take to put the pieces together again.
A smile, a glimpse
a something
may help.
But how long will it take...
to look upon the glass home once again.
Before its shattered by just a gust of wind.

The faceless women

The seat I sat on felt too hard. The air too suffocating. I was alone. Along with my sorrows. The grueling facts of life haunting me. Confusion following me around. Many stops came and went by but I remained alone. Until a couple got in, somehow I could tell they were a couple even though there was no physical indication as such. The man was tall, with abnormally large hands. They seemed to hang around, flopping about, seeming too useless. And then there was the women, I looked at her, without knowing whether she looked back. Her face hidden. It was strange not knowing whether she was looking at me or not. So I quickly shifted my eyes away from her, and looked out the window at the blur of trees, and people. Delving once again into my deep confusion, not knowing where to go, what to do, how to do. Choices looming at me. But unknowingly my eyes shifted once again towards the couple. Now they were talking, low whispers inaudible to me. They seemed to be arguing. But I realized quickly enough that they weren't arguing, arguing took two people. Here only the man was talking, and she was listening, nodding and shrinking back. And then she said something, something more then a monosyllable. Right away his large hands shot at her wrist and held it, not affectionately. The women froze, and so did the man, they stared at each other, the man with a stern expression, the women I imagined with fear. For a few seconds they stayed so, and then suddenly the man released her hand and they both went back to staring out the window. It suddenly struck me then as to how much I had. So much more then this women. Much more then many others. I had freedom, I had choices. Having confusion from choices is having life. Not having any confusion is having no life. I got off the next stop, with a resolve in my heart, and the faceless women's face always inked into my mind.

Thicket, that of an Amity

Maybe if I had stood a little longer,
I would have understood
I would have realized
They were just words and nothing more.

Sugary, syrupy, charming words.
That had me tripping, before I knew.

And now I have fallen,
headlong into a thicket of dishonesty and deceit
Tangled, wanting to leave.

What I see maybe isn’t.
What I don’t see maybe is.

Confused and lost I feel.
And sad.
Knowing not only have I lost an amity
But also the capability to believe.

Gaining Dreams

For it is in dreams I see, not in life.
Repeadly, filling every night. And all day dreams.
The deep brown eyes
Far off, like a spectacle the future may hold
A something for a lonely heart
Beautiful, beckoning, kind and so very True...

A storm within

A storm like none before.

Tormenting rains and billowing winds

The boat may sink very soon

I hold on to it, knowing I will sink with it

The water washes agaisnt me, soaking me

Inviting me in its embrase

I feel the urge to jump, like those before

The water, so clear and unreal

Beautiful, with many secrets, traps

So inviting.
I want to jump, yet something stops me
Hope.
Like a warning it emerges
From somewhere deep inside
Tugging, squeezing the heart
More real, more beautiful
More inviting then the water

I look up to the horizon
Keeping hope within me
And.
Something emerges from it
Much more real, more beautiful
More inviting then even hope

टेस्टिंग हिन्दी ट्रांस्लितेरेशन

नमस्ते आप सब कैसे है
मेरे ब्लोग में आपका स्वागत है
आप कमेंट्स छोड़ना मत ब्लुल्याई गा
मेरे ब्लोग मैं आने कई लिए बहुत धन्यवाद