Dewy leaves. Whistling wind.
Billowy gowns, with handsome bows.
Bright smiles. Sparkly eyes.
Chitter chatter.
Black carriage.
Bright cheeks.
Wisps of hair flying everywhere.
Greetings. Gossiping.
Piano notes on the floor.
Sing Song. Sing Song.
A look here a look there.
A smile sly. A smile shy.
Yes with excitement! No with politeness?
Hands in hands. Step by step.
Dance dance dance. AND. Dance dance dance.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Deafening Solitude
The ditch when seen seemed small enough.
Yet that is when you aren't being asked to jump down it.
Or being forced to. Or being pushed into.
I was wearing my white pants that day. A constrast to the dirt.
The bus dropped me off at the bus stop, along with others.
But instead of going home I was being asked to jump down that ditch. Being forced to.
I didn't want to. I really didn't. The ditch seemed never ending.
The bottom, dark, full of dirt, stones.
But before I knew it, there I was standing at the edge. Staring down.
My stomach turned. Nausea getting a hold of me.
Was it the prospect of the jump that really made me nervous?
I held on. I wasn't going to jump. I was not going to let them make me jump.
A step back. A yelp, a taunting word.
And then a push.
I was flying. And then falling.
The smell of dirt filling my nostrils. Its taste on my mouth. The stones piercing.
Yet the laughter was worse. Far worse. And then salty tears.
A few moments. In that turmoil. In that awkward position.
Eventually the laughter ceased. Everyone had left.
A deafening silence.
A new calamity. How to get back up.
How to get back up.
How?
Yet that is when you aren't being asked to jump down it.
Or being forced to. Or being pushed into.
I was wearing my white pants that day. A constrast to the dirt.
The bus dropped me off at the bus stop, along with others.
But instead of going home I was being asked to jump down that ditch. Being forced to.
I didn't want to. I really didn't. The ditch seemed never ending.
The bottom, dark, full of dirt, stones.
But before I knew it, there I was standing at the edge. Staring down.
My stomach turned. Nausea getting a hold of me.
Was it the prospect of the jump that really made me nervous?
I held on. I wasn't going to jump. I was not going to let them make me jump.
A step back. A yelp, a taunting word.
And then a push.
I was flying. And then falling.
The smell of dirt filling my nostrils. Its taste on my mouth. The stones piercing.
Yet the laughter was worse. Far worse. And then salty tears.
A few moments. In that turmoil. In that awkward position.
Eventually the laughter ceased. Everyone had left.
A deafening silence.
A new calamity. How to get back up.
How to get back up.
How?
Monday, October 12, 2009
The one behind the smile
A smile without the wrinkles near the eyes,
that's always a given, regardless of what.
A real smile...rarely seen, like rain on a parched land.
So good at masking the real pain, hiding everything from everyone, all the time.
So few times can the real feeling be seen, fluttering over the face, momentarily.
Where does the strength come from? The persistence? The resiliency?
I don't know.
Hope? Or the strong will to never do any wrong to another.
Blame. The blame on oneself, for others mistakes.
Doing no wrong, yet feeling as if she has.
Doubting the natural feelings as being unnatural.
The smallest of joy make her truly happy.
Yet these small joys rarely seem to come her way.
But nonetheless I have hope for her.
The tunnel is long.
But I see the light at the end of the tunnel.
And I hope my eyes aren't playing tricks on me.
__________________________________________________________________
that's always a given, regardless of what.
A real smile...rarely seen, like rain on a parched land.
So good at masking the real pain, hiding everything from everyone, all the time.
So few times can the real feeling be seen, fluttering over the face, momentarily.
Where does the strength come from? The persistence? The resiliency?
I don't know.
Hope? Or the strong will to never do any wrong to another.
Blame. The blame on oneself, for others mistakes.
Doing no wrong, yet feeling as if she has.
Doubting the natural feelings as being unnatural.
The smallest of joy make her truly happy.
Yet these small joys rarely seem to come her way.
But nonetheless I have hope for her.
The tunnel is long.
But I see the light at the end of the tunnel.
And I hope my eyes aren't playing tricks on me.
__________________________________________________________________
For you...
You know who "you" are.
"Tum itna kyu muskura rahe ho...kya ghum hain jisko chupa rahe ho"
"Tum itna kyu muskura rahe ho...kya ghum hain jisko chupa rahe ho"
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Thinking...
Here I am thinking about it again. Its always triggered by something...maybe recalling an old memory, or reading a random conversation. Here I am thinking about something entirely different but it somehow leads to me thinking about this. Its annoying really. Not just the whole thinking part but also the fact that I am thinking about it. So why am I annoyed...because I find you fickle. But that's absurd...I mean how can I say that, when I barely understand you. Just because I knew of your dark memories long before you told me doesn't mean I know you. Hell...I never understood you...nor will I ever. And what else is annoying....ooh the fact that....you never tell me anything...I mean you do, but not what's important. You will tell me something significant...and then the next time you will act like you never told me that. One day its one thing, another day its something else. And what do you really think of me. Or should I say....what am I to you? Again one day you'll act in a certain way towards me...and the next day a complete flip. So what is the truth. What you said yesterday? What you said today? Or what your going to say tomorrow? Or were you speaking the truth all three days? Even when they were paradoxical?...why I am thinking of all this? Really what am I to you...most probably...a bystander....a friend who is a stranger....but really why such secretiveness, why such fickleness....am I judging you? I should stop....because I have no right to judge you...because I really don't know you...not that I should judge even if I knew you, but for that matter there won't be any judging then because hell then I would just know you. Ok....I should stop this. Now. The thinking. As I have always when I start thinking about this....
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Changes
The names on the list bought tears to my eyes.
Not just the names themselves.
What they indicated. What they meant.
But it wasnt just that list and those names. It was all the news going around.
The changes bought on to others lives.
Not mine but others.
Even though I am not taking those steps. Its not I who is moving on. It still feels very real.
It feels as if it will happen to me too, all of a sudden.
And that is scary.
Ofcourse I am waiting for some changes. But other changes I feel I am not ready for.
I will miss all these people. Those who are taking the next step. Those entering a new phase in their lives.
Good luck to you all. May all your dreams become real. And all your expectations stay true.
Not just the names themselves.
What they indicated. What they meant.
But it wasnt just that list and those names. It was all the news going around.
The changes bought on to others lives.
Not mine but others.
Even though I am not taking those steps. Its not I who is moving on. It still feels very real.
It feels as if it will happen to me too, all of a sudden.
And that is scary.
Ofcourse I am waiting for some changes. But other changes I feel I am not ready for.
I will miss all these people. Those who are taking the next step. Those entering a new phase in their lives.
Good luck to you all. May all your dreams become real. And all your expectations stay true.
"Everything changes but change itself. Everything flows and nothing remains the same..."
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The mysterious follower
A warm night with a velvety sky.
The watch read, 10:35.
Tiredness swept me down as I lugged along,
across the grass to my car.
And suddenly I heard something, a footstep?
I could feel someone right behind me.
Fear made me shiver, and my heart hammered
maybe a thief or a murderer?
My back stiffened with fear, and my legs felt numb.
Everything turned hazy...unclear
Only the smell of chowmein stayed prominent
I thought of turning and looking at my intruder
but fear kept me walking straight.
As I neared my car the intruder came closer.
Did he sense that my escape was near?
Atlast I reached my carolla and in my hurry
dropped the packet of my chowmein.
I got into the car, locked my doors and felt safe.
My fear left giving way to my curiosity.
I looked out to see my follower,
only to find a poor little dog
eating what
was to
appease
my grumbling
stomach.
The watch read, 10:35.
Tiredness swept me down as I lugged along,
across the grass to my car.
And suddenly I heard something, a footstep?
I could feel someone right behind me.
Fear made me shiver, and my heart hammered
maybe a thief or a murderer?
My back stiffened with fear, and my legs felt numb.
Everything turned hazy...unclear
Only the smell of chowmein stayed prominent
I thought of turning and looking at my intruder
but fear kept me walking straight.
As I neared my car the intruder came closer.
Did he sense that my escape was near?
Atlast I reached my carolla and in my hurry
dropped the packet of my chowmein.
I got into the car, locked my doors and felt safe.
My fear left giving way to my curiosity.
I looked out to see my follower,
only to find a poor little dog
eating what
was to
appease
my grumbling
stomach.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Labels
How easily we give labels.
She is nice. She is mean.
He is good. He is bad.
She is an animal lover. He is a soccer fanatic.
And we change them so quickly too.
She is nice one today. And mean the next day.
And we all give different labels.
One says she is nice, the other says she is mean.
But what defines being nice. Being mean. Being a soccer fanatic.
And really, is that all a person is. Nice. Mean. Bad. Good. This. Or that.
How easily we throw such adjectives out without considering what they really mean.
And whether they constitute the entire person.
What they are like in the many instances of their life. What they do every moment.
What all they have experienced, or are experiencing. What conditions they live in.
How they react. What they say. What they think. What they feel.
Really, is it enough to see the few instances of their life.
Is that enough, to really know them, understand them.
Is that enough, to label them.
And is that label enough to describe the whole person that they are?
She is nice. She is mean.
He is good. He is bad.
She is an animal lover. He is a soccer fanatic.
And we change them so quickly too.
She is nice one today. And mean the next day.
And we all give different labels.
One says she is nice, the other says she is mean.
But what defines being nice. Being mean. Being a soccer fanatic.
And really, is that all a person is. Nice. Mean. Bad. Good. This. Or that.
How easily we throw such adjectives out without considering what they really mean.
And whether they constitute the entire person.
What they are like in the many instances of their life. What they do every moment.
What all they have experienced, or are experiencing. What conditions they live in.
How they react. What they say. What they think. What they feel.
Really, is it enough to see the few instances of their life.
Is that enough, to really know them, understand them.
Is that enough, to label them.
And is that label enough to describe the whole person that they are?
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