at first, he can just think of how beautiful she is and how nice it feels. then, when the blue fairy gets mad and mean, he shivers in fear and from the cold while she rages away. she reminds him of Geppetto's hammers and saw. but he did realise that she was probably more upset than him, he was just shit scared. which probably made it worse. and he thought, life had been so much simpler when he was simply non living
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Night Sea
I woke up from a dream
with a song in my head
wearing a smile
a little sunshine, in my mind
i wasnt looking
i was a bit lost in the unfamilar feeling
i must have forgotten,
my caution under my pillow
i'm sorry if i spoke out loud
the voices in my head
i'm sorry if i laughed out loud
or smiled at you that way
did i say i care
sometimes it doesnt last
did i say i like you
its probably not too much
but dont go trusting me, sweet child
i'll just break ur heart
and dont love me too much,
i'll tear you apart
i'm so scared of hurting you
because thats what i do
i'm falling, into the blackhole in my head,
and if u reach out, to save me, ill pull u in too
DSC01971
Originally uploaded by prerona.
OST: This, or This?
but sometimes, when the moon dances on the sea
i go down to the beach,
and hear the waves rustling on the rocks
while the lighthouse spins uselessly,
i go back to yesterday
feel u with me again
in the darkness, i can hear u
whisper to me
i scrawl our names
with a twig, in the sand
and another wave, playfully
wipes it out, and we end again
with a song in my head
wearing a smile
a little sunshine, in my mind
i wasnt looking
i was a bit lost in the unfamilar feeling
i must have forgotten,
my caution under my pillow
i'm sorry if i spoke out loud
the voices in my head
i'm sorry if i laughed out loud
or smiled at you that way
did i say i care
sometimes it doesnt last
did i say i like you
its probably not too much
but dont go trusting me, sweet child
i'll just break ur heart
and dont love me too much,
i'll tear you apart
i'm so scared of hurting you
because thats what i do
i'm falling, into the blackhole in my head,
and if u reach out, to save me, ill pull u in too
DSC01971
Originally uploaded by prerona.
OST: This, or This?
but sometimes, when the moon dances on the sea
i go down to the beach,
and hear the waves rustling on the rocks
while the lighthouse spins uselessly,
i go back to yesterday
feel u with me again
in the darkness, i can hear u
whisper to me
i scrawl our names
with a twig, in the sand
and another wave, playfully
wipes it out, and we end again
Who can it be now - is it Madcap at the door?
she had been restless throughout the evening, more so than usual. she couldnt concentrate, so she tried to rest for a while. but he got into her dreams and woke her up. in her dream he was strangling him. like all those stories and fairytales, of us and them, one each, joined, like anchors tied round athletic feet. she woke up with a start, in a sweat. she thought she heard him laughing. was it at the window, or in her head? she thought she heard footsteps pacing outside her door. had she dreamt it, or had he finally come? no one can describe that terrible, all consuming, gut wrenching panic, of thinking he's outside the door, of waiting for madcap to raise his hand, and knock. i forget ... was that Toto? same as Africa, i think. getting old.
Coloured
we were lounging in the garage and wouldnt you just know it ... i didnt see the wet paint sign and got colour all over my back from the bicycle rack! bright green ... been ages since i did this! forgotten how awful it cud be! so now i'm walking around green trying to look cool and act like i cudnt give a f.f anyway ... u can always pretend its the coolest thing - may even set a trend.
it was a clear night. saw the stars and the dark, dark sky both after so long. over here, usually all u get to see is a mass of swirling clouds. nice, wrapped in cotton wool, insulated feeling. When the clouds move away you get to see the sky. its awesome. but u also feel the cold more, when u do. cuts to the quick, the wind.
we went to a friend's place. wonderful food. its such a nice feeling to just be at home and chill out. but as the numbers go up my feeling of awkwardness usually just grows. perhaps i am just growing into the old bitter misanthropic mould. its worse on me, bcz when i am actually shy or awkward I look like I am being standoffish. Have been told so many times. People get to know me and say oh ur so nice we used to think ur such a snob. which i am, ofcourse, quite bad. god knows. perhaps we're all onions. i must just be watched matrix. walked back all the way. all of 40 mins. i think i had digested all the food by the time we got back!
Originally Posted at Prerona.
it was a clear night. saw the stars and the dark, dark sky both after so long. over here, usually all u get to see is a mass of swirling clouds. nice, wrapped in cotton wool, insulated feeling. When the clouds move away you get to see the sky. its awesome. but u also feel the cold more, when u do. cuts to the quick, the wind.
we went to a friend's place. wonderful food. its such a nice feeling to just be at home and chill out. but as the numbers go up my feeling of awkwardness usually just grows. perhaps i am just growing into the old bitter misanthropic mould. its worse on me, bcz when i am actually shy or awkward I look like I am being standoffish. Have been told so many times. People get to know me and say oh ur so nice we used to think ur such a snob. which i am, ofcourse, quite bad. god knows. perhaps we're all onions. i must just be watched matrix. walked back all the way. all of 40 mins. i think i had digested all the food by the time we got back!
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Hollow
the melted copper moon
trickles down
the black night
and gathers in a puddle
on the floor
in a corner
of my room.
a test a tear,
and wonder if its too soon.
in the darkness
the minutes march
marking time
as it slips away.
somewhere, you wander too
where are you?
there's a place,
by the sea.
black stone walls
strewn around.
there is spray,
dancing in a moonbeam
and the silence of darkness,
full and heavy in my hand.
i remember the feel
of gravelly wet sand
i remember the rythms of waves
the rise and swell and fading away
once again without you i'm hollow
though toys come and toys go
though you hold my hand, my heart is empty
still, incomplete, a windblown leaf,
that cud have been beautiful
had it in not been stolen,
and frozen by the wind
floats and dances and swirls in the breeze
and comes and falls in ur palm
entranced, u smile. ur fingers curl
dont move. dont crush it. its dry from the cold and time
and dont open ur hands and let it fall
couldnt find the song! but here's a link!
Copper Moon
Originally uploaded by trevindc.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
trickles down
the black night
and gathers in a puddle
on the floor
in a corner
of my room.
a test a tear,
and wonder if its too soon.
in the darkness
the minutes march
marking time
as it slips away.
somewhere, you wander too
where are you?
there's a place,
by the sea.
black stone walls
strewn around.
there is spray,
dancing in a moonbeam
and the silence of darkness,
full and heavy in my hand.
i remember the feel
of gravelly wet sand
i remember the rythms of waves
the rise and swell and fading away
once again without you i'm hollow
though toys come and toys go
though you hold my hand, my heart is empty
still, incomplete, a windblown leaf,
that cud have been beautiful
had it in not been stolen,
and frozen by the wind
floats and dances and swirls in the breeze
and comes and falls in ur palm
entranced, u smile. ur fingers curl
dont move. dont crush it. its dry from the cold and time
and dont open ur hands and let it fall
couldnt find the song! but here's a link!
Copper Moon
Originally uploaded by trevindc.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Fiction
Reading some fiction after ages! Dont remember when I last read so little. This makes my work days feel like party time by comparism. Needed something mindless and trashy. So here goes with an old fav by Harold Robins, Never Love a Stranger. I think that he makes a bit of a stereo type of that character. Mean and Grumpy and Awesome. Awwww ... I love him!
My birthday is coming up and I am excited already! I am going to buy myself one of the following:
Steppenwolf, The end of the affair, Beautiful Mind, Henry and June (the movie), Decalogue (the movie (s)), a new moleskin, some purple ink for my fountain pen. Way my budget is going, probably be the last. Or might even just be KFC! Lol
Been a while since I did a ate an icecream, watched a movie post like this, isnt it? Lol. I really amuse myself ... like I am seperate, watching, and I am so f amused ... the games, the lies, the deceptions, misery, the heartbreak, the euphoria, the blankness, the lazyness, the energy ... Always said I am not at all Scorp-ish, but in this one thing I am ... I vacillate from extreme to extreme, never slowing at the centres. Can be very disconcerting if you're watching. Or amusing. Depending on how much distance you keep. I'd advice lots.
Its raining down an orchestra on the tin roof of the gallery outside my window. So many different surfaces surround this space, the glass, the concrete, the tin ... it makes for beuatiful listening when it rains. And that always reminds me of that
scene (@ first sight) ... which reminds me of him ... and which reminds me of how he played my beloved, beloved James. I didnt see that movie forever bcz I was scared of spoiling it, scared that it would be awful. And then, like these things go, I saw it one day ... and it blew my mind.
The stars hang low and polished after a long nights rain. To paraphrase, I dont want them now.
I'll leave you with a very bad bad bad version of an awesome awesome awesome song by (the version i like is ben harper but i couldnt find it to link) ...
Originally Posted at Prerona.
My birthday is coming up and I am excited already! I am going to buy myself one of the following:
Steppenwolf, The end of the affair, Beautiful Mind, Henry and June (the movie), Decalogue (the movie (s)), a new moleskin, some purple ink for my fountain pen. Way my budget is going, probably be the last. Or might even just be KFC! Lol
Been a while since I did a ate an icecream, watched a movie post like this, isnt it? Lol. I really amuse myself ... like I am seperate, watching, and I am so f amused ... the games, the lies, the deceptions, misery, the heartbreak, the euphoria, the blankness, the lazyness, the energy ... Always said I am not at all Scorp-ish, but in this one thing I am ... I vacillate from extreme to extreme, never slowing at the centres. Can be very disconcerting if you're watching. Or amusing. Depending on how much distance you keep. I'd advice lots.
Its raining down an orchestra on the tin roof of the gallery outside my window. So many different surfaces surround this space, the glass, the concrete, the tin ... it makes for beuatiful listening when it rains. And that always reminds me of that
scene (@ first sight) ... which reminds me of him ... and which reminds me of how he played my beloved, beloved James. I didnt see that movie forever bcz I was scared of spoiling it, scared that it would be awful. And then, like these things go, I saw it one day ... and it blew my mind.
The stars hang low and polished after a long nights rain. To paraphrase, I dont want them now.
I'll leave you with a very bad bad bad version of an awesome awesome awesome song by (the version i like is ben harper but i couldnt find it to link) ...
Originally Posted at Prerona.
KANK
Have a desperate itch to watch KANK again! Damn, I loved that movie. I could have lived without some of the frills, but the
rest ... what was it about the her, about them, that made me feel like someone had been spying when i wasnt looking. More than that. So close to home, and so f faithfully handled.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
rest ... what was it about the her, about them, that made me feel like someone had been spying when i wasnt looking. More than that. So close to home, and so f faithfully handled.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Pain
i dont have that kind of words
how do you draw in a few syllables
or many, a picture of a black hole?
or emptiness, or a desert?
i saw you in my dreams again
alive, smiling, soft
is it really so out of proportions
whats the correct length mourning?
how decides these things?
who lays down the laws
whom we can love, how and how much
and the ways in which we can die
i felt your smile around me
softly, u drew me in
these memories are like a soft edged knife
smoothly slides in and hammers out again
suddenly i'm out of breath
inside i'm screaming
outside there's just a distant look
in my eye, that passes when u look this way
yes, i'm learning the lessons life's been teaching
now i leave quietly through the backdoors
pristine honesty, contracts of love, santa claus and forever
now i know they're just dreams
its one of those times again
soon, i know, it will pass
for now i can only wait
till the pain recedes to a dull ache again
how do you draw in a few syllables
or many, a picture of a black hole?
or emptiness, or a desert?
i saw you in my dreams again
alive, smiling, soft
is it really so out of proportions
whats the correct length mourning?
how decides these things?
who lays down the laws
whom we can love, how and how much
and the ways in which we can die
i felt your smile around me
softly, u drew me in
these memories are like a soft edged knife
smoothly slides in and hammers out again
suddenly i'm out of breath
inside i'm screaming
outside there's just a distant look
in my eye, that passes when u look this way
yes, i'm learning the lessons life's been teaching
now i leave quietly through the backdoors
pristine honesty, contracts of love, santa claus and forever
now i know they're just dreams
its one of those times again
soon, i know, it will pass
for now i can only wait
till the pain recedes to a dull ache again
Dreams
Two mins my eyes shut
and i had the most awesome nightmare
she called me and pulled my hand
and we were back home again!
and from the other room i heard ur voice
u said, "ki korchhish tora duto te te mile,
dosshi. did ke porte dao. ekei to kichhu pore na
koto koshto kore tomaader baba porachhe"
and i had that funny floating up feeling
like i get sometimes in my sleep
like i am awake and floating
and i floted to ur room
the bed was in the old place
and u were in it
i touched u
ur legs werent cold
soft warm albaster skin
and i ouched ur little toe
and it was whole again
no more sore skin
and i called ur name
and u frowned at me as if to say
abar paglami korchhish!
as if to say yeah! so?
like u had been there all along
and u said, so many things
and i kept asking pointed questions
trying to hint at the unsaid
like amaar oshukh hoyechhilo,
tumi jaannte? ki kore jaanle
and u said keno baar baar
oi shob kotha kotha tuchhish?
chhere de na. bhule ja
yeah right. but i couldnt see ur face
at one point it was distored
into boudi's face
is she there with u? omg
u were made at me
but u were there
i woke up screaming ur name
please come back again
and i had the most awesome nightmare
she called me and pulled my hand
and we were back home again!
and from the other room i heard ur voice
u said, "ki korchhish tora duto te te mile,
dosshi. did ke porte dao. ekei to kichhu pore na
koto koshto kore tomaader baba porachhe"
and i had that funny floating up feeling
like i get sometimes in my sleep
like i am awake and floating
and i floted to ur room
the bed was in the old place
and u were in it
i touched u
ur legs werent cold
soft warm albaster skin
and i ouched ur little toe
and it was whole again
no more sore skin
and i called ur name
and u frowned at me as if to say
abar paglami korchhish!
as if to say yeah! so?
like u had been there all along
and u said, so many things
and i kept asking pointed questions
trying to hint at the unsaid
like amaar oshukh hoyechhilo,
tumi jaannte? ki kore jaanle
and u said keno baar baar
oi shob kotha kotha tuchhish?
chhere de na. bhule ja
yeah right. but i couldnt see ur face
at one point it was distored
into boudi's face
is she there with u? omg
u were made at me
but u were there
i woke up screaming ur name
please come back again
Time
it only takes nothing
you do nothing, and yet
you make my heart flip
round and round, and faster
it only takes nothing
you do nothing, and yet
i wish this moment would never end
because i never knew one so perfect
anyway, far from liking you,
i dont even know ur middle name
isnt it strange then
that i u drop in to my mind again
should i bother to dispel it
should i worry about it being wrong
should i bother about my safety
or more importantly, yours?
i almost cannot bear to
its a lazy tired feeling
like coming home, to a home
a mad day had made me forget
i want to let it be
it's only for a while
its trapped in this moment
i want to freeze this moment in time
you do nothing, and yet
you make my heart flip
round and round, and faster
it only takes nothing
you do nothing, and yet
i wish this moment would never end
because i never knew one so perfect
anyway, far from liking you,
i dont even know ur middle name
isnt it strange then
that i u drop in to my mind again
should i bother to dispel it
should i worry about it being wrong
should i bother about my safety
or more importantly, yours?
i almost cannot bear to
its a lazy tired feeling
like coming home, to a home
a mad day had made me forget
i want to let it be
it's only for a while
its trapped in this moment
i want to freeze this moment in time
Still Dead
sometimes ur sad, but you're ok
and at other times,
sadness has a scary edge of desperation to it
and you feel like u might just be drowning
slipping into some deep dark place inside you
and u break into pieces, each watching all the others
one wanting to dive in and swim in the dark,
find the heart of the night
and another, scared, wanting the light
and another, that died or was never born,
and couldnt care one way or another
and while u slide, u panic
and u want to reach out
when i slide there's no one
i'd dare to hold on to
that i wouldnt pull them in
or be burnt by the grip
exchanging,
one well for another
but thats why
when i walk by a well, or bog
i stretch my arms out and hold on tight
and pull whenever
and once ashore
i let go
but sometimes thats not
just what they were after
as a price for ur wanting to make them happy
they want ur soul
443 days
443 nights
443 notches on the side of ur grave
ur stubborn indifference
makes me hate
anyone who dares to give me love instead
ur still, cold, grey, body,
and ur dancing eyes in my dreams
make me want to kill
anyone who dares to live instead
oceans of mustard seeds wouldnt help
attics full of corpses wouldnt help
lifetimes of love and joy, wouldnt help
bcz u'd still be dead
as always i hurt myself to hurt u
i open it up and it all spills out
i dont want nothing of urs, so i let it spill
bitch
come back
ill grind out the one u loved
ill never let her smile again
if u want her at all
come back
and at other times,
sadness has a scary edge of desperation to it
and you feel like u might just be drowning
slipping into some deep dark place inside you
and u break into pieces, each watching all the others
one wanting to dive in and swim in the dark,
find the heart of the night
and another, scared, wanting the light
and another, that died or was never born,
and couldnt care one way or another
and while u slide, u panic
and u want to reach out
when i slide there's no one
i'd dare to hold on to
that i wouldnt pull them in
or be burnt by the grip
exchanging,
one well for another
but thats why
when i walk by a well, or bog
i stretch my arms out and hold on tight
and pull whenever
and once ashore
i let go
but sometimes thats not
just what they were after
as a price for ur wanting to make them happy
they want ur soul
443 days
443 nights
443 notches on the side of ur grave
ur stubborn indifference
makes me hate
anyone who dares to give me love instead
ur still, cold, grey, body,
and ur dancing eyes in my dreams
make me want to kill
anyone who dares to live instead
oceans of mustard seeds wouldnt help
attics full of corpses wouldnt help
lifetimes of love and joy, wouldnt help
bcz u'd still be dead
as always i hurt myself to hurt u
i open it up and it all spills out
i dont want nothing of urs, so i let it spill
bitch
come back
ill grind out the one u loved
ill never let her smile again
if u want her at all
come back
This is how it feels
to be sitting on a mistake worth about 30,0000 pounds, and 1 working year, and a lifetime's opportunity. But then I have years of expertise in making worst decisions in any given scenario ;0)
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
most people
most people, like being loved.
most people, want to be happy.
most people, like themselves, for the most part.
most people, dont think there are more imp things than happiness and fun.
most people, dont find hurting people so unbearable, and then do it all the same.
most people, dont get mad, and punch the wall
most people, dont come home with bleeding hands
most people, can cry buckets without a sign
most people, dont get swollen red eyes
most people, dont hate themselves.
most people, arent torn by regret.
most people, arent fencing angst.
most people, dont care so much about meaning.
most people, arent turtured by guilt.
most people, have brown eyes.
most people, like to smile.
most people, arent on dangerous drugs. like reflection, hunger and giving up.
most people, learn to forget.
most people, forgive themselves.
most people, arent looking for perfection. without, or within.
most people, dont despise most of their fellow men.
most people, arent ugly within.
most people, arent racing against an image in their heads.
most people, arent shadow boxing the dead.
most people, are quite sane.
most people, are quite happy to be like that.
most people, dont know how lucky they are.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
most people, want to be happy.
most people, like themselves, for the most part.
most people, dont think there are more imp things than happiness and fun.
most people, dont find hurting people so unbearable, and then do it all the same.
most people, dont get mad, and punch the wall
most people, dont come home with bleeding hands
most people, can cry buckets without a sign
most people, dont get swollen red eyes
most people, dont hate themselves.
most people, arent torn by regret.
most people, arent fencing angst.
most people, dont care so much about meaning.
most people, arent turtured by guilt.
most people, have brown eyes.
most people, like to smile.
most people, arent on dangerous drugs. like reflection, hunger and giving up.
most people, learn to forget.
most people, forgive themselves.
most people, arent looking for perfection. without, or within.
most people, dont despise most of their fellow men.
most people, arent ugly within.
most people, arent racing against an image in their heads.
most people, arent shadow boxing the dead.
most people, are quite sane.
most people, are quite happy to be like that.
most people, dont know how lucky they are.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
a pot of clay
u seduce me,
with my reflection
in ur head;
into being
something i am not.
but its only for a while,
just a dance and i'm gone.
though you want to,
you cannot hold me.
though i want to,
i cannot stay.
cant hold the pose,
the alien shape,
i could stay,
but not alive.
u dont want the way i am.
u want to trap me;
hold me in ur pores,
in ur unchanging shape,
firm,
brittle;
but i am fluid,
i am free,
and i need to breathe
and flow, unfettered.
i may be damned
but its only for a while.
u can hold me inside
but i'll escape, seep out & hide.
so i evaporate,
float up with the winds, away;
and ur left,
bereft,
twisted out of shape
& with hole inside,
which ur trying to hide
Originally Posted at Prerona.
with my reflection
in ur head;
into being
something i am not.
but its only for a while,
just a dance and i'm gone.
though you want to,
you cannot hold me.
though i want to,
i cannot stay.
cant hold the pose,
the alien shape,
i could stay,
but not alive.
u dont want the way i am.
u want to trap me;
hold me in ur pores,
in ur unchanging shape,
firm,
brittle;
but i am fluid,
i am free,
and i need to breathe
and flow, unfettered.
i may be damned
but its only for a while.
u can hold me inside
but i'll escape, seep out & hide.
so i evaporate,
float up with the winds, away;
and ur left,
bereft,
twisted out of shape
& with hole inside,
which ur trying to hide
Originally Posted at Prerona.
A Pot of Clay
You seduce me
with my reflection
in ur head
into being
something i am not
but its only for a while
just one dance and i'm gone
though you want to
you cant hold me
though i want to
i cant stay
i cant hold the pose
this alien shape
i can stay
but not alive
u dont want me as i am
u want to trap me
hold me in ur pores
in ur unchanging shape
firm
brittle
but i am fluid
i am free
and i need to breathe
and flow, unfettered
i may be damned
but only for a while
u can hold me inside
but i'll escape, seep out
so i evaporate
float up with the winds
and ur left
bereft
twisted out of shape
with hole inside
trying to hide
with my reflection
in ur head
into being
something i am not
but its only for a while
just one dance and i'm gone
though you want to
you cant hold me
though i want to
i cant stay
i cant hold the pose
this alien shape
i can stay
but not alive
u dont want me as i am
u want to trap me
hold me in ur pores
in ur unchanging shape
firm
brittle
but i am fluid
i am free
and i need to breathe
and flow, unfettered
i may be damned
but only for a while
u can hold me inside
but i'll escape, seep out
so i evaporate
float up with the winds
and ur left
bereft
twisted out of shape
with hole inside
trying to hide
Dead
what can i say?
however far you run,
life gets a hold of you
and brings you back
once more
face to face with your nightmares
your destiny
everyone is different
everyone's the same
loving circles,
of words and arms
stifling close
brittle euphoria
liquor spiced
whichever gods u choose
whichever feet you find
to kneel at
will melt in pools of weak clay
and soft sweet sickly sympathy
is all ur destined to feel
there are
no gods to worship
or maybe
the pedestals too rocky
and high
the world shifts
and re adjusts
around u
in a circle of laughing dwarfs
who only want to hide
crouching low, small shallow minds
firm resolve
not to look outside
their games, groups and tribes
poke clumsy fingers
wounds of agony
inexpertly bandaged
waiting for time to bring
enough scar tissue
to hide
and seal
on word
u casually speak
that means so much
such a big deal
unuttered for 442 days
is carelessly laughed away
bcz i know ur dead
for the world, anyway
i open hands
i crack them on stone
it comes out
all ur stuff
and i dont want it anymore
i want it to evaporate
go up in smoke
like u
chase after
bcz i know ur there
somewhere
however far you run,
life gets a hold of you
and brings you back
once more
face to face with your nightmares
your destiny
everyone is different
everyone's the same
loving circles,
of words and arms
stifling close
brittle euphoria
liquor spiced
whichever gods u choose
whichever feet you find
to kneel at
will melt in pools of weak clay
and soft sweet sickly sympathy
is all ur destined to feel
there are
no gods to worship
or maybe
the pedestals too rocky
and high
the world shifts
and re adjusts
around u
in a circle of laughing dwarfs
who only want to hide
crouching low, small shallow minds
firm resolve
not to look outside
their games, groups and tribes
poke clumsy fingers
wounds of agony
inexpertly bandaged
waiting for time to bring
enough scar tissue
to hide
and seal
on word
u casually speak
that means so much
such a big deal
unuttered for 442 days
is carelessly laughed away
bcz i know ur dead
for the world, anyway
i open hands
i crack them on stone
it comes out
all ur stuff
and i dont want it anymore
i want it to evaporate
go up in smoke
like u
chase after
bcz i know ur there
somewhere
dead
what can i say?
however far you run,
life gets a hold of you
and brings you back
once more
face to face with your nightmares
your destiny
everyone is different
everyone's the same
loving circles,
of words and arms
stifling close
brittle euphoria
liquor spiced
whichever gods u choose
whichever feet you find
to kneel at
will melt in pools of weak clay
and soft sweet sickly sympathy
is all ur destined to feel
there are
no gods to worship
or maybe
the pedestals too rocky
and high
the world shifts
and re adjusts
around u
in a circle of laughing dwarfs
who only want to hide
crouching low, small shallow minds
firm resolve
not to look outside
their games, groups and tribes
poke clumsy fingers
wounds of agony
inexpertly bandaged
waiting for time to bring
enough scar tissue
to hide
and seal
on word
u casually speak
that means so much
such a big deal
unuttered for 442 days
is carelessly laughed away
bcz i know ur dead
for the world, anyway
i open hands
i crack them on stone
it comes out
all ur stuff
and i dont want it anymore
i want it to evaporate
go up in smoke
like u
chase after
bcz i know ur there
somewhere
Originally Posted at Prerona.
however far you run,
life gets a hold of you
and brings you back
once more
face to face with your nightmares
your destiny
everyone is different
everyone's the same
loving circles,
of words and arms
stifling close
brittle euphoria
liquor spiced
whichever gods u choose
whichever feet you find
to kneel at
will melt in pools of weak clay
and soft sweet sickly sympathy
is all ur destined to feel
there are
no gods to worship
or maybe
the pedestals too rocky
and high
the world shifts
and re adjusts
around u
in a circle of laughing dwarfs
who only want to hide
crouching low, small shallow minds
firm resolve
not to look outside
their games, groups and tribes
poke clumsy fingers
wounds of agony
inexpertly bandaged
waiting for time to bring
enough scar tissue
to hide
and seal
on word
u casually speak
that means so much
such a big deal
unuttered for 442 days
is carelessly laughed away
bcz i know ur dead
for the world, anyway
i open hands
i crack them on stone
it comes out
all ur stuff
and i dont want it anymore
i want it to evaporate
go up in smoke
like u
chase after
bcz i know ur there
somewhere
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Every Little Piece of my Heart (almost)
Calling Madcap
I've stood here for so long, at the fringes of your world. From my beginning, I have been yours. From the first time our eyes met, the first time my heart beat, from the first time you smiled, I was crazy.
Seven years, it took me, to gather my wits. To break the spell, and chase the sorcerer. Three years to cross the seven seas. Now I'm at your door, finally.
I'm calling in everyway I know. Please, my love, hear me. I'll be good for you. I'll be good to you, please, baby, dont deny me.
At the doorstep, in the cold, in the rain, in your cold land. The temple gates are locked and sealed, the priests with the keys wont understand. The King is in his parlour, far far away. The Bishop's off, to foreign lands, searching for new prey. They've changed your name, to better hide you. Why are they afraid? Work some magic, walk one step; baby, come and get me. I was born, just to love you, without "us", what's the point ...
Seven years, it took me, to gather my wits. To break the spell, and chase the sorcerer. Three years to cross the seven seas. Now I'm at your door, finally.
I'm calling in everyway I know. Please, my love, hear me. I'll be good for you. I'll be good to you, please, baby, dont deny me.
At the doorstep, in the cold, in the rain, in your cold land. The temple gates are locked and sealed, the priests with the keys wont understand. The King is in his parlour, far far away. The Bishop's off, to foreign lands, searching for new prey. They've changed your name, to better hide you. Why are they afraid? Work some magic, walk one step; baby, come and get me. I was born, just to love you, without "us", what's the point ...
he
it was about 3 AM; the last frontiers of the night. it was still dark, no moon tonight. In the darkness, everything had turned grey all around.
He sat on steps, and he could feel the cold from the bare steps below him, creeping up his body like cold fingers. He just stared into the darkness; and with frayed fingernails, he scratched out pieces of his soul.
the bird, or whatever it was, came out of iron fence, in front of him. He just looked down for a minute, and next minute, as he looked up, it was swooping straight at him. for a moment he thought it was a big piece of black cloth in the wind, but as it got closer he could see its eyes. They were like stone, with a glimmer that seemed to capture the last dregs of the flourescent light that lay around. Before he could finish the thought, it was in his face, and then gone, like it had hit bang into a wall and dissapeared.
he
http://www.youngpersons-railcard.co.uk/downloads/YP06W.pdf
Originally Posted at Prerona.
He sat on steps, and he could feel the cold from the bare steps below him, creeping up his body like cold fingers. He just stared into the darkness; and with frayed fingernails, he scratched out pieces of his soul.
the bird, or whatever it was, came out of iron fence, in front of him. He just looked down for a minute, and next minute, as he looked up, it was swooping straight at him. for a moment he thought it was a big piece of black cloth in the wind, but as it got closer he could see its eyes. They were like stone, with a glimmer that seemed to capture the last dregs of the flourescent light that lay around. Before he could finish the thought, it was in his face, and then gone, like it had hit bang into a wall and dissapeared.
he
http://www.youngpersons-railcard.co.uk/downloads/YP06W.pdf
Originally Posted at Prerona.
This blog
is becoming like an old old much loved, dog eared love. I'm struggling to renew our lines of communication. I am trying every language, nuance, tone I know, to get through. I am trying to ignore, or limit, the call of the new, fresher, fleetingly startlingly, honester and and more beautiful. Will I succed? That was never my forte. To say the least. I can hold on to only so many dead.
I dont want to let you go, just walk away, but I'm groping for the connection we had, or so I'd thought, but you just wont help me. I think of a million things, but when we're face to face, I cant find that voice again, in which havent talked, in an age. I'm reaching out. I'm struggling with the strings of this mask, that you and me and time built. Help me. I want to be your friend again.
I still love you, like my own, like a part of me, you are still my friend. I'm talking to you, do you hear me?
Originally posted: 7th Dec 2005. And still no joy :)
Originally Posted at Prerona.
I dont want to let you go, just walk away, but I'm groping for the connection we had, or so I'd thought, but you just wont help me. I think of a million things, but when we're face to face, I cant find that voice again, in which havent talked, in an age. I'm reaching out. I'm struggling with the strings of this mask, that you and me and time built. Help me. I want to be your friend again.
I still love you, like my own, like a part of me, you are still my friend. I'm talking to you, do you hear me?
Originally posted: 7th Dec 2005. And still no joy :)
Originally Posted at Prerona.
night sea
i woke up from a dream
with a song in my head
wearing a smile
a little sunshine, in my mind
i wasnt looking
i was a bit lost in the unfamilar feeling
i must have forgotten,
my caution under my pillow
i'm sorry if i spoke out loud
the voices in my head
i'm sorry if i laughed out loud
or smiled at you that way
did i say i care
sometimes it doesnt last
did i say i like you
its probably not too much
but dont go trusting me, sweet child
i'll just break ur heart
and dont love me too much,
i'll tear you apart
i'm so scared of hurting you
because thats what i do
i'm falling, into the blackhole in my head,
and if u reach out, to save me, ill pull u in too
DSC01971
Originally uploaded by prerona.
OST: This, or This?
but sometimes, when the moon dances on the sea
i go down to the beach,
and hear the waves rustling on the rocks
while the lighthouse spins uselessly,
i go back to yesterday
feel u with me again
in the darkness, i can hear u
whisper to me
i scrawl our names
with a twig, in the sand
and another wave, playfully
wipes it out, and we end again
Originally Posted at Prerona.
with a song in my head
wearing a smile
a little sunshine, in my mind
i wasnt looking
i was a bit lost in the unfamilar feeling
i must have forgotten,
my caution under my pillow
i'm sorry if i spoke out loud
the voices in my head
i'm sorry if i laughed out loud
or smiled at you that way
did i say i care
sometimes it doesnt last
did i say i like you
its probably not too much
but dont go trusting me, sweet child
i'll just break ur heart
and dont love me too much,
i'll tear you apart
i'm so scared of hurting you
because thats what i do
i'm falling, into the blackhole in my head,
and if u reach out, to save me, ill pull u in too
DSC01971
Originally uploaded by prerona.
OST: This, or This?
but sometimes, when the moon dances on the sea
i go down to the beach,
and hear the waves rustling on the rocks
while the lighthouse spins uselessly,
i go back to yesterday
feel u with me again
in the darkness, i can hear u
whisper to me
i scrawl our names
with a twig, in the sand
and another wave, playfully
wipes it out, and we end again
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Hollow
the melted copper moon
trickles down
the black night
and gathers in a puddle
on the floor
in a corner
of my room.
a test a tear,
and wonder if its too soon.
in the darkness
the minutes march
marking time
as it slips away.
somewhere, you wander too
where are you?
there's a place,
by the sea.
black stone walls
strewn around.
there is spray,
dancing in a moonbeam
and the silence of darkness,
full and heavy in my hand.
i remember the feel
of gravelly wet sand
i remember the hum of the waves
i remember the rythms of
Originally Posted at Prerona.
trickles down
the black night
and gathers in a puddle
on the floor
in a corner
of my room.
a test a tear,
and wonder if its too soon.
in the darkness
the minutes march
marking time
as it slips away.
somewhere, you wander too
where are you?
there's a place,
by the sea.
black stone walls
strewn around.
there is spray,
dancing in a moonbeam
and the silence of darkness,
full and heavy in my hand.
i remember the feel
of gravelly wet sand
i remember the hum of the waves
i remember the rythms of
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Lives
from salisbury craig
Originally uploaded by prerona.
you watch his life,
the one you didnt choose,
spread out in front of you
cluttering the desk,
and you dont why
you suddenly want to cry,
you feel empty and cold.
its like someone walked over your grave.
and you dont know how.
and you dont know why.
questions bubble up inside.
there so much to ask
so much to hide.
did he miss anything,
was it allright,
was he able to handle the price;
the one, you thought you couldnt afford, when you walked away.
because you're still scared of death,
of the second hand half kind;
bcz techincally, you were still one,
the weaning yet to be done.
and he's so casually brave.
you still shiver and shudder and wait for the night
when in dreams you're whole again;
and in daylight, with dead-grip
hold on to goodcheer and painted smiles.
though now and then, sometimes you forget.
OST: Knife
gyle_bustop_man_walks
Originally uploaded by prerona.
Madcap Calling
For a while, I had forgotten you. When you came knocking at my window last night, you made me jump. Yes, I had forgotten all about you, for a while. Isnt it strange how strong this bond is? Though I was never yours, and you were never mine. Yet, we always knew, you and I, there was something unknown pulling us to eachother. I flirted with you, but stayed at the edges. I could no less resist the deep, dark force of that attraction, than I could let go of the ledge of my world, at whose very edge I crouched. I hung on, for all I was worth. When you came too close, I closed my eyes to hide. When you went too far, I came after you again. And we danced.
I'm sorry. It must have been such a terrible thing to do; but I was scared of you. I watched fascinated, every star you plucked, every life you lived, every form you took. Each dizzyingly bright, heartbreakingly dark. I watched, breathless, as you swung them and up and you danced. The dizzying heights. The lurching swings. The bravery, The greatness, The heroism, The Scale, The mastery ... and in the end they gave in to you, almost all. (All but him. How he fought! You still scrape ur chalk on his window, while I watch, but he keeps fighting on) You flew them to the skies, made the whole world change, while you held their hands, but they never come back again. Almost all.
So spectacular, the visions, the sounds, the dreams; yet I was scared to let go of the simple, the normal, the ordinary. My little life. Maybe a little faded and dull, maybe a small, maybe boring, day in day out, maybe laced with regret, as I kissed my pillow goodnight, but my own, safe and simple life.
I never got closer to you than that. To gasp at you dancing with your latest bright star. And a part of me wished I could go along, on the magic carpet ride, like a child, kneeling at a window looking out at the magic silver snow, on a indigo night; but I was scared of the dark.
I'm reading her again. That was the best song. You whispered in my ears, that stones to wings, and you flew her through the skies; painting clouds with the ink around her eyes, which you wiped. And I know I'll listen to him tonight. His picture's here, is right by my side. Red and Blue and Purple; With the guitars, locked doors, and black ringed eyes. When the music was over, did you turn out the lights?
Yet, you never let me go completely. Every now and then you're back; at night. You stay a few days and go away again. And every now and then I see you smile; behind my eyes. And I at night I'm torn between the fear that you'll come calling me and that you'll never come for me again.
I'm sorry. It must have been such a terrible thing to do; but I was scared of you. I watched fascinated, every star you plucked, every life you lived, every form you took. Each dizzyingly bright, heartbreakingly dark. I watched, breathless, as you swung them and up and you danced. The dizzying heights. The lurching swings. The bravery, The greatness, The heroism, The Scale, The mastery ... and in the end they gave in to you, almost all. (All but him. How he fought! You still scrape ur chalk on his window, while I watch, but he keeps fighting on) You flew them to the skies, made the whole world change, while you held their hands, but they never come back again. Almost all.
So spectacular, the visions, the sounds, the dreams; yet I was scared to let go of the simple, the normal, the ordinary. My little life. Maybe a little faded and dull, maybe a small, maybe boring, day in day out, maybe laced with regret, as I kissed my pillow goodnight, but my own, safe and simple life.
I never got closer to you than that. To gasp at you dancing with your latest bright star. And a part of me wished I could go along, on the magic carpet ride, like a child, kneeling at a window looking out at the magic silver snow, on a indigo night; but I was scared of the dark.
I'm reading her again. That was the best song. You whispered in my ears, that stones to wings, and you flew her through the skies; painting clouds with the ink around her eyes, which you wiped. And I know I'll listen to him tonight. His picture's here, is right by my side. Red and Blue and Purple; With the guitars, locked doors, and black ringed eyes. When the music was over, did you turn out the lights?
Yet, you never let me go completely. Every now and then you're back; at night. You stay a few days and go away again. And every now and then I see you smile; behind my eyes. And I at night I'm torn between the fear that you'll come calling me and that you'll never come for me again.
Sky, Rain and Sea
Once again, I'm living in a room on the roof; sort of. So when it rains, the three voices rise up, entwining, in a dancing melody, the wind, the rain on the glass and the rain on the tin roof. The small room becomes a rain hugged shell. The glass that stands between me and the rain, swims in the water and changes face, smiling. Far away, the same rythm beats on the sea skin, and digs holes in the sand. The sky swirls with patterns of grey, blue and pink. The winds sing cheerful, happy melodies, as it waves the sun goodbye.
"And far from flying high, in the clear blue skies,
I'm spiralling down, to the hole in the ground, where I hide."
Here now, with her, I revisit this old thought from june 2006 and it makes me want to laugh. Isnt it ironic?
Its been a swinging weekend. Its swung between sunshine, and rain, like the sky playing games and laughing at itself. I went downstairs earlier, and I watched as a bright yellow balloon, just a little deflated, danced round in circles with a bright blue plastic bag and a worm-hole-ridden grey-brown leaf; playing games in the small whirlpool the breeze made.
At other times it rained. And it was a quiet weekend. All the better to hear the rain. I had a large pile of work to be done, but the sky playing games distracted me. I spoke to her after ages. On messenger. Thank God for messenger. I discovered the funny feelings I'd been having since midweek were right! Strange. I'd heard twins have that: put one through a pinprick and the other one feels the pain, as well. Maybe its just DNA. Maybe its just habit. Its been so long. I put up a printed picture of us on my alarm clock. It must be the first ever: all 4 of us together. We all look so innocent and happy. That makes me smile.
What is it that life writes for us? Is there a destiny, in ink or pencil? Do we trace patterns, already drawn and fixed, tied forever to our paths? Os is there a way out? Because though it all dulls and dims, as time strenghthens immunities, and perfects masks, there's still the ennui.
And still we are stubbornly happy. Grinning in the face of life; Still standing tall, all of us; And sharing drinks, And midnight snacks, bartering insults and and soul deep cuts and late night nightmares and love stories; and I love you's; Still we go on living; and still we go on loving.
Some pictures and lessons stay engraved in your mind. Warnings. Ecstacies. Fears. Though we may not have lived them first hand. What I always remember is Thornbirds, 'the Gods are jeaous Meggie. dont love so much. dont be so happy'. And I live in fear of Their anger. I've had close calls enough.
Or are we just slaves to who we are, forever. Chained to the balls of our many loves and our many selves. All the ifs and if only's come and entwine at that one point. This was me. This is the life that I led. Would I have changed one second of it?
On a rainy Sunday afternoon, like today, I sit on my bed, with the patchwork quilt, with the rain drumming patterns on the window outside, I bring out the old tattered box again, of memories and broken bits and saved pieces and spare selves. Who will I be today? Next week? Next year? Which ones will I keep or throw away?
Originally Posted at Prerona.
"And far from flying high, in the clear blue skies,
I'm spiralling down, to the hole in the ground, where I hide."
Here now, with her, I revisit this old thought from june 2006 and it makes me want to laugh. Isnt it ironic?
Its been a swinging weekend. Its swung between sunshine, and rain, like the sky playing games and laughing at itself. I went downstairs earlier, and I watched as a bright yellow balloon, just a little deflated, danced round in circles with a bright blue plastic bag and a worm-hole-ridden grey-brown leaf; playing games in the small whirlpool the breeze made.
At other times it rained. And it was a quiet weekend. All the better to hear the rain. I had a large pile of work to be done, but the sky playing games distracted me. I spoke to her after ages. On messenger. Thank God for messenger. I discovered the funny feelings I'd been having since midweek were right! Strange. I'd heard twins have that: put one through a pinprick and the other one feels the pain, as well. Maybe its just DNA. Maybe its just habit. Its been so long. I put up a printed picture of us on my alarm clock. It must be the first ever: all 4 of us together. We all look so innocent and happy. That makes me smile.
What is it that life writes for us? Is there a destiny, in ink or pencil? Do we trace patterns, already drawn and fixed, tied forever to our paths? Os is there a way out? Because though it all dulls and dims, as time strenghthens immunities, and perfects masks, there's still the ennui.
And still we are stubbornly happy. Grinning in the face of life; Still standing tall, all of us; And sharing drinks, And midnight snacks, bartering insults and and soul deep cuts and late night nightmares and love stories; and I love you's; Still we go on living; and still we go on loving.
Some pictures and lessons stay engraved in your mind. Warnings. Ecstacies. Fears. Though we may not have lived them first hand. What I always remember is Thornbirds, 'the Gods are jeaous Meggie. dont love so much. dont be so happy'. And I live in fear of Their anger. I've had close calls enough.
Or are we just slaves to who we are, forever. Chained to the balls of our many loves and our many selves. All the ifs and if only's come and entwine at that one point. This was me. This is the life that I led. Would I have changed one second of it?
On a rainy Sunday afternoon, like today, I sit on my bed, with the patchwork quilt, with the rain drumming patterns on the window outside, I bring out the old tattered box again, of memories and broken bits and saved pieces and spare selves. Who will I be today? Next week? Next year? Which ones will I keep or throw away?
Originally Posted at Prerona.
"Rahi na taqat-e-guftaar, Aur agar ho bhi, toh kis ummeed se kahiye ke aarzoo kya hai"
Whenever i run out of words, i come back to Ghalib. He's just said it all. Outside, its an almost full moon. The air is just cool enough to be crisp. Part of me was worried about coming back here, out in the cold again, but its fine; uptil now. Like the man on the roller-coaster, I keep bracing for the lurch just round the corner, but it never comes. Life swerves, and twists, and squeezes, but at night when you close your eyes, your fine.
I have an awful habit, disguised as a blessing. If I have to be somewhere, my mind will talk itself into thinking I love it; and I would have hated it any other way. At first glance, thats great, bcz it keeps you satisfied. However, the self deception is so complete, that I actually forget I liked any other place. I had forgotten how social I am. I thought I hated company. Now I know I am crazy about it. I appreciate my solitude, yes; but I'm crazy about people; I still have to figure out how to deal with them, however.
Like babies. I'm crazy about them, but I am awful with them. Give me a baby and I'll make it cry. With every new person I meet, I keep worrying if I'm being to friendly. Its okay with strangers in a train, or at a busstop, or at the water cooler (yes I have so many friends I made that way), but its harder with people who you meet all the time. How do you know when you're coming on to strong? Does it matter if they really like you? People have always been far nicer to me than I have deserved. Sometimes it makes me feel a bit like a fraud. A bit incredulous, perhaps.
I wrote to all the clubs I wanted to join. I think I'll give the rowing a skip for a while. I've done that for so long, maybe try something new. Thats the best part about being a student again, right? I'd love to play rugby again. Properly this time. I doubt I'd be able to, though. I want to start running again, but there's hardly anytime. I love the golf, but its not enough, somehow. If the mountaineering club works, it would be amazing, but I saw the pics on the website and it looks awfully hard. I did join the CogSoc and I will join the Philophy Soc
DSC04206
Originally uploaded by prerona.
Ever noticed how sometimes we get sad without a reason? Maybe there is a reason but its hiding in some dark corner of your head. I had a big pruple wave building up for the last few days. It kept coming at me and getting bigger and bigger as it approached. Then after a while, it just falls off. Maybe its like the moisture gathers and gathers till it gets too heavy and just rains down on you. Or sometimes its the smallest of things that can set it off. Gtalk, for instance :)
Sometimes the words and feelings grow heavy inside you and there's nowhere you could, or could bear to, take it out. Sometimes, your just light and airy like a fluffy white cloud; filled with rain waiting to happen; but glowing in the sunlight, for now. Sometimes, you desperately want to talk, but you tick of everyone you know in ur head and there's just noone that fits both bills. Perhaps I am just too possesive about myself. Why do we take ourselves so seriously? One lifetime ... its so fleeting in the scale of things. We live, breed, die. Who the f cares what great thoughts we thought or what we achieved. And yet we are so hungry for heights. Like the song goes, eto chaoa niye kotha jai?
My hair is all falling out. Whats left has totally freaked out too. I miss my hair. I miss my brains too, though I can almost not remember that far back now. But jokes apart, I miss reading. I mean fiction. With so many papers and notes to read, I find I barely read anymore. I was reading an old old mb, which I do when I really need a break from serious stuff, and I have been reading it for the last 2 weeks! I usually finish them in one sitting! Last decent book I read was God of Small Things and it blew my mind. One of the blurbs on the cover I think said something like 'never again will a single story be told like its the only one'. Very Roarkesq. But it was a bit like that. Maybe its killed my appetite for crap. I have a craving to reread Steppenwolf. It would be interesting to see how I'd feel about it now. Another one I have been missing, is the hours, one of the favourites.
I havent been listening to much music, either. 2 bands I discovered and have just gone crazy about are Live and Fossil. Specially the latter. So lately, I've just been listening to 'Dekho Manabi' and I'm still hung up on 'O Saathi Re'. But with the latter, I dont know if its just the song, or the whole 'dream'.
Sometimes I think this blog is slowing down, growing old. I hardly get the words I used to. I dont like this kind of post. Which is not to say anything bad about this kind of post (why am i so pc all the time?) but its just that I dont enjoy reading them when I come back later. So I usually delete them. I only keep the ones I enjoy coming back to. Maybe thats really selfish, but I think its okay.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
I have an awful habit, disguised as a blessing. If I have to be somewhere, my mind will talk itself into thinking I love it; and I would have hated it any other way. At first glance, thats great, bcz it keeps you satisfied. However, the self deception is so complete, that I actually forget I liked any other place. I had forgotten how social I am. I thought I hated company. Now I know I am crazy about it. I appreciate my solitude, yes; but I'm crazy about people; I still have to figure out how to deal with them, however.
Like babies. I'm crazy about them, but I am awful with them. Give me a baby and I'll make it cry. With every new person I meet, I keep worrying if I'm being to friendly. Its okay with strangers in a train, or at a busstop, or at the water cooler (yes I have so many friends I made that way), but its harder with people who you meet all the time. How do you know when you're coming on to strong? Does it matter if they really like you? People have always been far nicer to me than I have deserved. Sometimes it makes me feel a bit like a fraud. A bit incredulous, perhaps.
I wrote to all the clubs I wanted to join. I think I'll give the rowing a skip for a while. I've done that for so long, maybe try something new. Thats the best part about being a student again, right? I'd love to play rugby again. Properly this time. I doubt I'd be able to, though. I want to start running again, but there's hardly anytime. I love the golf, but its not enough, somehow. If the mountaineering club works, it would be amazing, but I saw the pics on the website and it looks awfully hard. I did join the CogSoc and I will join the Philophy Soc
DSC04206
Originally uploaded by prerona.
Ever noticed how sometimes we get sad without a reason? Maybe there is a reason but its hiding in some dark corner of your head. I had a big pruple wave building up for the last few days. It kept coming at me and getting bigger and bigger as it approached. Then after a while, it just falls off. Maybe its like the moisture gathers and gathers till it gets too heavy and just rains down on you. Or sometimes its the smallest of things that can set it off. Gtalk, for instance :)
Sometimes the words and feelings grow heavy inside you and there's nowhere you could, or could bear to, take it out. Sometimes, your just light and airy like a fluffy white cloud; filled with rain waiting to happen; but glowing in the sunlight, for now. Sometimes, you desperately want to talk, but you tick of everyone you know in ur head and there's just noone that fits both bills. Perhaps I am just too possesive about myself. Why do we take ourselves so seriously? One lifetime ... its so fleeting in the scale of things. We live, breed, die. Who the f cares what great thoughts we thought or what we achieved. And yet we are so hungry for heights. Like the song goes, eto chaoa niye kotha jai?
My hair is all falling out. Whats left has totally freaked out too. I miss my hair. I miss my brains too, though I can almost not remember that far back now. But jokes apart, I miss reading. I mean fiction. With so many papers and notes to read, I find I barely read anymore. I was reading an old old mb, which I do when I really need a break from serious stuff, and I have been reading it for the last 2 weeks! I usually finish them in one sitting! Last decent book I read was God of Small Things and it blew my mind. One of the blurbs on the cover I think said something like 'never again will a single story be told like its the only one'. Very Roarkesq. But it was a bit like that. Maybe its killed my appetite for crap. I have a craving to reread Steppenwolf. It would be interesting to see how I'd feel about it now. Another one I have been missing, is the hours, one of the favourites.
I havent been listening to much music, either. 2 bands I discovered and have just gone crazy about are Live and Fossil. Specially the latter. So lately, I've just been listening to 'Dekho Manabi' and I'm still hung up on 'O Saathi Re'. But with the latter, I dont know if its just the song, or the whole 'dream'.
Sometimes I think this blog is slowing down, growing old. I hardly get the words I used to. I dont like this kind of post. Which is not to say anything bad about this kind of post (why am i so pc all the time?) but its just that I dont enjoy reading them when I come back later. So I usually delete them. I only keep the ones I enjoy coming back to. Maybe thats really selfish, but I think its okay.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
lives
from salisbury craig
Originally uploaded by prerona.
you watch his life,
the one you didnt choose,
spread out in front of you
cluttering the desk,
and you dont why
you suddenly want to cry,
you feel empty and cold.
its like someone walked over your grave.
and you dont know how.
and you dont know why.
questions bubble up inside.
there so much to ask
so much to hide.
did he miss anything,
was it allright,
was he able to handle the price;
the one, you thought you couldnt afford, when you walked away.
because you're still scared of death,
of the second hand half kind;
bcz techincally, you were still one,
the weaning yet to be done.
and he's so casually brave.
you still shiver and shudder and wait for the night
when in dreams you're whole again;
and in daylight, with dead-grip
hold on to goodcheer and painted smiles.
though now and then, sometimes you forget.
OST: Knife
gyle_bustop_man_walks
Originally uploaded by prerona.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Baby
i've switched off my heart
and put it in my pocket
sheathed my words
and put them away
buried under the blueberries
on the way to the sunset
i cant forgive
u didnt teach me how
but sometimes
i try and forget ...
and now baby,
i've come home
walk in my shadow
put ur little hand in mine
and follow me in through the back door
i should have done this
years ago
if i'd opened my eyes
i'd have seen
their blackholes and red eyes could be locked in their bedroom
while u and i turned the key
baby, how could i not know
what my fear was doing to you
they're bad men and women
they're monsters and bastards
they're ugly and sweet
and fatally lovable
baby, ill let u play
this time ill watch out for u
this time i wont run away
this time i'll grit teeth and stay
and put it in my pocket
sheathed my words
and put them away
buried under the blueberries
on the way to the sunset
i cant forgive
u didnt teach me how
but sometimes
i try and forget ...
and now baby,
i've come home
walk in my shadow
put ur little hand in mine
and follow me in through the back door
i should have done this
years ago
if i'd opened my eyes
i'd have seen
their blackholes and red eyes could be locked in their bedroom
while u and i turned the key
baby, how could i not know
what my fear was doing to you
they're bad men and women
they're monsters and bastards
they're ugly and sweet
and fatally lovable
baby, ill let u play
this time ill watch out for u
this time i wont run away
this time i'll grit teeth and stay
Mamma
its just a memory
but so alive
a swirl of cotton
white. green bordered
soft warm skin
crinkled. wrinkled. white and pink
warm drinks and brandy
swapped escapades and memories
stories. of my beginning
yours.and journeys. one for every hour of day
stories of the beginnings of love
ours. yours. mine
talks. philosophy. logic. religion
lessons. how to walk. talk.live life
stars. moons. gentle warm sunshine
battles. tears. laughter
childhood troubles and worries
slowly growing up
all sorted, aired and put away
in your little black box
but its just a memory
and you're so dead
its that time of the year
to remember you
look at my body
and wonder at how you made it from yours
look at my yesterdays
and how you took me in
see how i've grown mamma
come back home again
but so alive
a swirl of cotton
white. green bordered
soft warm skin
crinkled. wrinkled. white and pink
warm drinks and brandy
swapped escapades and memories
stories. of my beginning
yours.and journeys. one for every hour of day
stories of the beginnings of love
ours. yours. mine
talks. philosophy. logic. religion
lessons. how to walk. talk.live life
stars. moons. gentle warm sunshine
battles. tears. laughter
childhood troubles and worries
slowly growing up
all sorted, aired and put away
in your little black box
but its just a memory
and you're so dead
its that time of the year
to remember you
look at my body
and wonder at how you made it from yours
look at my yesterdays
and how you took me in
see how i've grown mamma
come back home again
Wonderful Life
the sun falls on your back in gentle waves
and wind comes in on your face
the week is done, and the accounts logged
the two days bonus free
life swerves and turns
you catch your breath and wait
for the monsters that this lap will bring
but its just days of gentle sunshine
and mild and gentle, near-happiness
once again, the song in ur head
says let it never end
all things said and done,
what a beautiful world
what a wonderful life
and wind comes in on your face
the week is done, and the accounts logged
the two days bonus free
life swerves and turns
you catch your breath and wait
for the monsters that this lap will bring
but its just days of gentle sunshine
and mild and gentle, near-happiness
once again, the song in ur head
says let it never end
all things said and done,
what a beautiful world
what a wonderful life
Eyes
your eyes
shimmer secrets
flash smiles
whisper confidences
and jagged edges
of broken dreams.
invisible bonds
stretched out in dark moonlight
between two pairs of eyes
hushed. with not a sound
to break the fragile thread
like a spider web
glistening in stray drops
of neon
abondoned
by the weaver
and the world
in the background
of the voices droning on.
ur eyes
seek out mine
and whisper on
and on
and on.
my eyes fall
ur eyes smile
my eyes smile
ur eyes fall
endless games
and secret conversations
at night
silent questions
and pondering
gently probing
futures and possibities
perhaps
what might have been
in a dream
or memories
of another time and place
where we werent u or me
did we meet?
echos ring
of laughter and song
in dark glades of old forests
by flickring firelight
flames stroke damp skin
warm hands
waves giggling on sombre sands
moonlight blanketting
silent nights
was it you
that shadow by my side
in my memories
of a my forgotten lives
what is that wet?
how did they get
so sad
ur eyes that can twinkle like that
what did you see
who made u weep
who took ur dreams
and twisted them
to stab u from behind
what brought those shades of sorrow to ur eyes,
sweet gentle child
ur every dream
i ever dreamed
crystallized
wish u were mine
when i'm tucked in
the traces that werent wiped out with time
pull at the corner of my sheets with tiny hands
screaming,
they echo in my mind
behind tightly closed eyes
confession - i was listening to creed (those eyes, that stare at me in the dark)
cross posted on spilled to bloodlessness and my blog
shimmer secrets
flash smiles
whisper confidences
and jagged edges
of broken dreams.
invisible bonds
stretched out in dark moonlight
between two pairs of eyes
hushed. with not a sound
to break the fragile thread
like a spider web
glistening in stray drops
of neon
abondoned
by the weaver
and the world
in the background
of the voices droning on.
ur eyes
seek out mine
and whisper on
and on
and on.
my eyes fall
ur eyes smile
my eyes smile
ur eyes fall
endless games
and secret conversations
at night
silent questions
and pondering
gently probing
futures and possibities
perhaps
what might have been
in a dream
or memories
of another time and place
where we werent u or me
did we meet?
echos ring
of laughter and song
in dark glades of old forests
by flickring firelight
flames stroke damp skin
warm hands
waves giggling on sombre sands
moonlight blanketting
silent nights
was it you
that shadow by my side
in my memories
of a my forgotten lives
what is that wet?
how did they get
so sad
ur eyes that can twinkle like that
what did you see
who made u weep
who took ur dreams
and twisted them
to stab u from behind
what brought those shades of sorrow to ur eyes,
sweet gentle child
ur every dream
i ever dreamed
crystallized
wish u were mine
when i'm tucked in
the traces that werent wiped out with time
pull at the corner of my sheets with tiny hands
screaming,
they echo in my mind
behind tightly closed eyes
confession - i was listening to creed (those eyes, that stare at me in the dark)
cross posted on spilled to bloodlessness and my blog
What is Cognitive Science
This is a question I have been fielding a lot lately. Loads of people ask me what I am studying and I say I'm doing my MSc in Cognitive Science at the department of informatics and the next question is always 'What is Cognitive Science'. Well, I dont really know ... but I guess it should be okay, because I havent met anyone yet who has a definitive answer. However, I joined this club today called the Cognitive Science Society where a group of us will be informally throwing ideas around.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Late
now its too late to say i love you
by the time, i made up my mind
to come falling back towards u
u were already gone
time slipped us so slow and fast
days hurtled by, secs paused
feelings masquerade
words black sequinned masks
i didnt realise, what u were saying
till u stopped
now its too late
what a waste ...
the foolish yellow moon
looks blankly in the distance
a little lost
watch the stars as they dance
and then the night falls
all that good sense and good cheer
spills off the top of the tears
just a blank stare
wet blank empty stair
and in the parlour,
empty chairs
OST: Isnt it rich ...
Originally Posted at Prerona.
by the time, i made up my mind
to come falling back towards u
u were already gone
time slipped us so slow and fast
days hurtled by, secs paused
feelings masquerade
words black sequinned masks
i didnt realise, what u were saying
till u stopped
now its too late
what a waste ...
the foolish yellow moon
looks blankly in the distance
a little lost
watch the stars as they dance
and then the night falls
all that good sense and good cheer
spills off the top of the tears
just a blank stare
wet blank empty stair
and in the parlour,
empty chairs
OST: Isnt it rich ...
Originally Posted at Prerona.
and beyond it all, there is the Ocean
from salisbury craig
Originally uploaded by prerona.
red berries on the way back
Originally uploaded by prerona.
water
Originally uploaded by prerona.
rain
Originally uploaded by prerona.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Blue Shoots
Duck!
Originally uploaded by prerona.
Footsteps
Originally uploaded by prerona.
Aloo Peyaaj ka Haal
Originally uploaded by prerona.
Blue Shoots
Originally uploaded by prerona.
Okay - This is my weird photo entry - Was tagged by Rimi. I tag Hyde, Maddie and Austere
Originally Posted at Prerona.
irritated / amused / worried:
Apparently this *%&$£ called Aatmika has been reproducing my posts and old poems from my home page for the last year & passing it off as their own work @ her blog: ephemeralbonds. The blog is offline now but there is a google cache.
I'm not quit sure exactly how I feel about or what I will do about it. There's nothing you can do really except wonder if you want to put ur stuff online anymore. maybe take down the blog and definitely the homepage. Why would you wanna share ur work with such assholes out there.
wow! it even had me breaking my wont ever lose my temper again and wont ever swear :D
I wouldnt even have known had I not chanced upon the post at aimless wanderers blog, bcz she's been lifting his stuff too.
It makes me feel really gross and violated. i felt this way only once before when someone stole some of my personal data, but in a way that was good bcz it taught me to not trust people and that there are all kinds of strange people out there.
Why would someone do something like this ... dont they have any pride in themselves at all? What kind of person would do something like this. Everything we write has so much effort, so much work ... what kind of person would want to steal someone elses work and pass it off as your own.
Now I come to know that there are some more blogs where this is happening. And someone has been stealing my sisters work too! Which makes me about 10 times more angry. Bcz my stuff is ok, but she writes so fucking well. I hope the SOB's who do this just f rott in b hell forever.
I came across something like this once before, where someone stole some of my files and misused it. It hurt like hell bcz it was someone I had previously respected, but atleast it was instructive. There are some real 'strange' people out there, I learned.
This, however, is different. How can someone steal someone work and call it their own. I mean, obviously they can, but I still cant come to terms with it. And I guess it feels worse bcz the 'work' on the blog has a lot of emotional investment as well. Its got so much of you in it. So many memories, so many emotions, so much passion ... and its all defiled by one person mental illnes
Someone said I should be happy! Flattered! I guess thats just me - but I HATE being copied. There's nothing I hate more and nothing that pisses me off more. I think I even liked Ajay Devgan a little less when he started getting popular. Maybe I am too possesive about myself, my thoughts, my feelings ... I dont know. But more I think about it, the more I realise its only my own fault. What the fuck was I thinking putting my work where any bastard can come read it.
I know I'm overreacting; Its not worth it; But thats just the way I feel right now. Whenever I come online and see the blog it makes me feel gross. And I dont feel like sharing anything from inside 'me' with anyone online. So I'm going offline for a while. Will think about it for a bit. I know it will probably pass (soon) and I will be back. Mail me if you like (the id is on my profile)
Originally Posted at Prerona.
I'm not quit sure exactly how I feel about or what I will do about it. There's nothing you can do really except wonder if you want to put ur stuff online anymore. maybe take down the blog and definitely the homepage. Why would you wanna share ur work with such assholes out there.
wow! it even had me breaking my wont ever lose my temper again and wont ever swear :D
I wouldnt even have known had I not chanced upon the post at aimless wanderers blog, bcz she's been lifting his stuff too.
It makes me feel really gross and violated. i felt this way only once before when someone stole some of my personal data, but in a way that was good bcz it taught me to not trust people and that there are all kinds of strange people out there.
Why would someone do something like this ... dont they have any pride in themselves at all? What kind of person would do something like this. Everything we write has so much effort, so much work ... what kind of person would want to steal someone elses work and pass it off as your own.
Now I come to know that there are some more blogs where this is happening. And someone has been stealing my sisters work too! Which makes me about 10 times more angry. Bcz my stuff is ok, but she writes so fucking well. I hope the SOB's who do this just f rott in b hell forever.
I came across something like this once before, where someone stole some of my files and misused it. It hurt like hell bcz it was someone I had previously respected, but atleast it was instructive. There are some real 'strange' people out there, I learned.
This, however, is different. How can someone steal someone work and call it their own. I mean, obviously they can, but I still cant come to terms with it. And I guess it feels worse bcz the 'work' on the blog has a lot of emotional investment as well. Its got so much of you in it. So many memories, so many emotions, so much passion ... and its all defiled by one person mental illnes
Someone said I should be happy! Flattered! I guess thats just me - but I HATE being copied. There's nothing I hate more and nothing that pisses me off more. I think I even liked Ajay Devgan a little less when he started getting popular. Maybe I am too possesive about myself, my thoughts, my feelings ... I dont know. But more I think about it, the more I realise its only my own fault. What the fuck was I thinking putting my work where any bastard can come read it.
I know I'm overreacting; Its not worth it; But thats just the way I feel right now. Whenever I come online and see the blog it makes me feel gross. And I dont feel like sharing anything from inside 'me' with anyone online. So I'm going offline for a while. Will think about it for a bit. I know it will probably pass (soon) and I will be back. Mail me if you like (the id is on my profile)
Originally Posted at Prerona.
god of small things
its as if, the whole world and everything in it, were a tangled mass of threads, a mix of colours, textures and lengths; and its as if, life were picking ur way through the maze, too big for most of us, most of the time, to see the forest; but, its as if, every now and then, accidentally or otherwise you spot a pattern, a path that will unjumble the whole mass into one big pattern, and the rest will fall away: a theory of everything
thats what came to my mind when i finished with god of small things. it never ceases to amaze me how, sometimes, i will come across a book, maybe even buy it, but i wont like it or will not be able to read it, and then years later i will pick it up again and it will fall over me like the most exquisitely tailor made shirt slipped over my head ... and blow my mind away
bridge across, frieda, lila, steppenwolf and now god of small things ...
the days are cool again, but i am waiting for the chill. everything is new and different, sometimes interesting, sometimes strange and at times just plain bizzare. living in a dorm after all these years is just pure fun. living in poverty as i had plain forgotten how to, is amusing. remembering how deeply i had loved this city, is heartwarmingly beautiful. remembering how deeply i love that city, is heartbreaking painful.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
thats what came to my mind when i finished with god of small things. it never ceases to amaze me how, sometimes, i will come across a book, maybe even buy it, but i wont like it or will not be able to read it, and then years later i will pick it up again and it will fall over me like the most exquisitely tailor made shirt slipped over my head ... and blow my mind away
bridge across, frieda, lila, steppenwolf and now god of small things ...
the days are cool again, but i am waiting for the chill. everything is new and different, sometimes interesting, sometimes strange and at times just plain bizzare. living in a dorm after all these years is just pure fun. living in poverty as i had plain forgotten how to, is amusing. remembering how deeply i had loved this city, is heartwarmingly beautiful. remembering how deeply i love that city, is heartbreaking painful.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Hold On
i try to hold on
but time slips out of my fingers
like the edge of a precipice,
over a vast chasm, that i am hanging from
everything that logic drones on in my ears
i know, i have heard them a hundred times before
but what do i tell the tears that swell and tumble that heart that races and slows and growing heavier
sinks into my gut, where i hold it sucked in in fear
time passes, slips out of my hands
there is no forever
to have to turn away,
was pre determined
but its been such a short respite
and now out in the cold again
we come marked with our destinies
we must be grateful for our blessings
i had you to love
though you always fooled me
i had a few scattered stolen months
across 3 decades, with spirits of blood
there were moments when she loved me like her own
there were times when he held my hand
there were friends and laughter, however fleeting
though later the mocked me, the laughter lived on
and money, that atleast
i made and held, atleast that was mine
and words i learned and spun,
though meanings they drew none
and places i saw, though they all looked the same
and another orphaned, begger boy i saw
drifting like flotsam along the world
grateful, for each merci however small
thats how life teaches
thats how we learn
but time slips out of my fingers
like the edge of a precipice,
over a vast chasm, that i am hanging from
everything that logic drones on in my ears
i know, i have heard them a hundred times before
but what do i tell the tears that swell and tumble that heart that races and slows and growing heavier
sinks into my gut, where i hold it sucked in in fear
time passes, slips out of my hands
there is no forever
to have to turn away,
was pre determined
but its been such a short respite
and now out in the cold again
we come marked with our destinies
we must be grateful for our blessings
i had you to love
though you always fooled me
i had a few scattered stolen months
across 3 decades, with spirits of blood
there were moments when she loved me like her own
there were times when he held my hand
there were friends and laughter, however fleeting
though later the mocked me, the laughter lived on
and money, that atleast
i made and held, atleast that was mine
and words i learned and spun,
though meanings they drew none
and places i saw, though they all looked the same
and another orphaned, begger boy i saw
drifting like flotsam along the world
grateful, for each merci however small
thats how life teaches
thats how we learn
Blood
your blood
still drips between my fingers
where it had pooled in my hands
its red and bright and clean
i soaked up your life
in a small space
and surrendered my dreams instead
you wanted it that way
slumped in this deep black hole
where light, love, blood
just seeps in to tease
i see that its all a game, and everyone wants to win
as my life flows out of me
and lies in a pool at my feet
i can hear ur mocking laughter
and i am glad. atleast i amused u.
still drips between my fingers
where it had pooled in my hands
its red and bright and clean
i soaked up your life
in a small space
and surrendered my dreams instead
you wanted it that way
slumped in this deep black hole
where light, love, blood
just seeps in to tease
i see that its all a game, and everyone wants to win
as my life flows out of me
and lies in a pool at my feet
i can hear ur mocking laughter
and i am glad. atleast i amused u.
Moonrise
The sun bounces on the horizon, and finally, pricked, it spills over the waves, splashes the sky staining, and the waves wash it over to the white sands and bleached rocks.
the grey bird, on its way out, pauses for a glimpse and rest. its cobbled feet scrape the carbuncles on the stone.
he sits out the drama of the sunset and waits patiently for the moonrise, till the stillness of the night quilts the sleeping beach and sea.
nearby, a yellow backed crab scurries to the rushing waves in mock bravado and the runs backwards as the waves advances.
the night heals, with its silence, peace and stillness. the grey bird has long flown away. did it reach where it was headed, or was stranded midway? does it matter?
a wave crashes and whimpers to the shore. it carries a ragged piece of a newspaper, perhaps borrowed in the day. the ink should have smudged but the bold letters of the headlines just about survive the darkness.
breaking news, like every other day. has it ever been any different amongst men or other animals? does anything ever change? yes. the means, the tools, the power. the people, the intentions, the dreams and compensations remain the same ... from alexander and aurangzeb
the moon is a glowing copper mass tonight. the craters bold patterns in brown and grey. it hangs low, balanced delicately on a mist of grey cloud. there's gentle fire in the moon today.
the moon river is a quivering straight line from the edge of the waves to the horizon. a path highlighted.
the sands, otherwise wet and cold, hold back some warmth: an echo of sunshine, when you dig your hands in just below the surface
even in the deep indigo of the skies and the seas, there are glimmers of light shining carelessly and bravely.
the yellow backed crab dances with the waves one final time and scurries into the sand in panic when a big one rushes at him. he looks at it and laughs quietly in the darkness.
the dark and the light, the laughter and silence complement each other and dance together, down the ages, each making the other possible, and more beautiful.
life comes to you in a dream and asks if your enjoying the show. he gets up and dusts the sand off his palms. maybe there was no other way.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
the grey bird, on its way out, pauses for a glimpse and rest. its cobbled feet scrape the carbuncles on the stone.
he sits out the drama of the sunset and waits patiently for the moonrise, till the stillness of the night quilts the sleeping beach and sea.
nearby, a yellow backed crab scurries to the rushing waves in mock bravado and the runs backwards as the waves advances.
the night heals, with its silence, peace and stillness. the grey bird has long flown away. did it reach where it was headed, or was stranded midway? does it matter?
a wave crashes and whimpers to the shore. it carries a ragged piece of a newspaper, perhaps borrowed in the day. the ink should have smudged but the bold letters of the headlines just about survive the darkness.
breaking news, like every other day. has it ever been any different amongst men or other animals? does anything ever change? yes. the means, the tools, the power. the people, the intentions, the dreams and compensations remain the same ... from alexander and aurangzeb
the moon is a glowing copper mass tonight. the craters bold patterns in brown and grey. it hangs low, balanced delicately on a mist of grey cloud. there's gentle fire in the moon today.
the moon river is a quivering straight line from the edge of the waves to the horizon. a path highlighted.
the sands, otherwise wet and cold, hold back some warmth: an echo of sunshine, when you dig your hands in just below the surface
even in the deep indigo of the skies and the seas, there are glimmers of light shining carelessly and bravely.
the yellow backed crab dances with the waves one final time and scurries into the sand in panic when a big one rushes at him. he looks at it and laughs quietly in the darkness.
the dark and the light, the laughter and silence complement each other and dance together, down the ages, each making the other possible, and more beautiful.
life comes to you in a dream and asks if your enjoying the show. he gets up and dusts the sand off his palms. maybe there was no other way.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Welterschmerz
words bubble up inside
they bed release and make run for it
at the gate, in the mob of rushing thoughts,
they are stall and die
like a square of wet cloth,
the soul dries from the edges in
it had nowhere reached the center,
when the rain starts again.
once more, its out in the cold and rain
the wind, sweeps it away from the storm
torn and ragged now,
it will never be sown to purpose.
there's a rythmn in the wind,
the rain. in dead days, in which
destiny is followed blind
if everything was planned and set ...
little joys and little smiles and little tears
dwarfed, life will march on
the grand symphony will drowns in the lethe
sometimes a head floats out in a dream
this is life as it was meant to be
ordinary. not bad. not great
for other minds, soaring.
for some, it is just to live.
live out the time allotted
each moment, each day, savour as it passes
hold on to the happy middle
why then, does sleep draw such dreams in the head
walk with both eyes shut
sleep with both eyes open
cry silent & dry
hold straight as the dream escapes
life is sad, the world is sadder
headlines are not to weep for
learn to take it like they do
lightly, for unlike the other, words will choke
deaf and dumb beyond the scribe
emotion, feelings, passions dead
there's nothing that can be shaped or shared
inside the desert, inside the head
half dead, half living
half numb, half feeling
half empty, half aching
half singing, half crying
yet these things cannot be said in words
nor understood, second hand
nor shared, for no vision has its twin
the dead weigh down the arms, though departed
the ghosts walk, talk and laugh
fading, receding, the pain changes
more permanent more pale in colour
they bed release and make run for it
at the gate, in the mob of rushing thoughts,
they are stall and die
like a square of wet cloth,
the soul dries from the edges in
it had nowhere reached the center,
when the rain starts again.
once more, its out in the cold and rain
the wind, sweeps it away from the storm
torn and ragged now,
it will never be sown to purpose.
there's a rythmn in the wind,
the rain. in dead days, in which
destiny is followed blind
if everything was planned and set ...
little joys and little smiles and little tears
dwarfed, life will march on
the grand symphony will drowns in the lethe
sometimes a head floats out in a dream
this is life as it was meant to be
ordinary. not bad. not great
for other minds, soaring.
for some, it is just to live.
live out the time allotted
each moment, each day, savour as it passes
hold on to the happy middle
why then, does sleep draw such dreams in the head
walk with both eyes shut
sleep with both eyes open
cry silent & dry
hold straight as the dream escapes
life is sad, the world is sadder
headlines are not to weep for
learn to take it like they do
lightly, for unlike the other, words will choke
deaf and dumb beyond the scribe
emotion, feelings, passions dead
there's nothing that can be shaped or shared
inside the desert, inside the head
half dead, half living
half numb, half feeling
half empty, half aching
half singing, half crying
yet these things cannot be said in words
nor understood, second hand
nor shared, for no vision has its twin
the dead weigh down the arms, though departed
the ghosts walk, talk and laugh
fading, receding, the pain changes
more permanent more pale in colour
dry
its not just words that i seem to have run out of. every now and then i think of what to do next, and whatever comes to mind feels like a repeat show. time is drenched in deja vu. in my stomach, a hunger gnaws its way out from within. for what? i dont know. like the elusive word on the tip of your tongue, i almost recognise it, then dont. and life goes on, endlessly eating its track in drunken circles.
otherwise, its just soothingly slow days. drenched in the sunshine, the sea and the mountain stars. and mountain mohitos. and lazy laughter.
every evening we go to the hotel, where my dad swims and we walk down to the sea. but before that we sit and yap over a drink or two, with the fingers of smoke trailing a dome over our heads. a hug and we part. the familiar, reassuring dad smell. india kings and whiskey and anteus. the 'coming home' smell. the 'safe now' smell. the 'just made it back behind the lines' smell.
2 down, its strangely mesmerising, watching the rythmn of the waves rising & running to the shore. behind me, the hajaar mountains stand in order of fading black. the sea is nestled between its outstretched arms. the sun a perfect bloody circle, balnace atop the horizon.
the mist makes the mountains fade to blue shadows in the distance; each row paler than the one before. much like most people. do we ever really know anyone?
i stand in the water. sometimes ankle deep, sometimes swelling to the waist. as all that foam breaks around me, i imagine it will tickle, but it just feels warm and soft. what would it be like to drown in that foam? would it hold. it looks so think but breaks so thin around my skin.
then i sit and look at the sun as it sinks. how brave; to drown so gracefully, gallantly, gloriously, every evening; to sit out the night, so patient and calm, knowing and believing that the day he threw away will give way to another ... equal and more. that this is not the end. just a restart. would i dare.
the sande feels grainy under my feet. it tuck my toes into it as it dances wetly between and around. i love the light and shadow, shiney and matt, the dancing light and the contrasts, of freshly wetting sand.
i could sit for hours staring at the waves like this. the silence soothingly sorrounds me; the wave songs dont break it, just underline it. my mind drifts and i think of nothing and everything. but mostly, i wonder, would i ever dare? every wave coming in teases me. each one is like an invitation. but when i am waist deep and the cold and dark plays in my mind, i panic and run away. so i am never born again.
at night, we sit on the old swing, the wood now bleached and faded, the eucalptus overhead, smells floating in the night air. the moon and the stars look different here. just like everywhere else. but here they seem almost more swollen, more yellow ... ripe, pregnant, tempting.
our talk meanders aimlessly from topic to the next. at our feet, rex pants as always. 2 small red circles swing in the dark. we kick ourselves in the air for one last go and go in for the night.
there's so much fire. and so much promise in the fire. and yet so much futility. as often before i remember the last line from a 1000 acres.
as the end approaches, i find myself shying back. i almost know what i want, but i would never dare to reach out and get it. and who knows how badly the singed hands would burn? who says we this is the age of female freedom? we have just exchanged one prison for another. once if you wanted, they looked at you in horror. now if you dont, ur as much a freak.
watched a lot of new movies in the annual catch-up-with-bollywood-a-thon: krish, my brother nikhil, corporate, golmaal, gangster ... gangster still haunts me. such a beautifully painted picture of a perfect love, a perfect guy, a perfect end ... or was it? life and fancies are so far apart. do we ever know what we want? i dont even try.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
otherwise, its just soothingly slow days. drenched in the sunshine, the sea and the mountain stars. and mountain mohitos. and lazy laughter.
every evening we go to the hotel, where my dad swims and we walk down to the sea. but before that we sit and yap over a drink or two, with the fingers of smoke trailing a dome over our heads. a hug and we part. the familiar, reassuring dad smell. india kings and whiskey and anteus. the 'coming home' smell. the 'safe now' smell. the 'just made it back behind the lines' smell.
2 down, its strangely mesmerising, watching the rythmn of the waves rising & running to the shore. behind me, the hajaar mountains stand in order of fading black. the sea is nestled between its outstretched arms. the sun a perfect bloody circle, balnace atop the horizon.
the mist makes the mountains fade to blue shadows in the distance; each row paler than the one before. much like most people. do we ever really know anyone?
i stand in the water. sometimes ankle deep, sometimes swelling to the waist. as all that foam breaks around me, i imagine it will tickle, but it just feels warm and soft. what would it be like to drown in that foam? would it hold. it looks so think but breaks so thin around my skin.
then i sit and look at the sun as it sinks. how brave; to drown so gracefully, gallantly, gloriously, every evening; to sit out the night, so patient and calm, knowing and believing that the day he threw away will give way to another ... equal and more. that this is not the end. just a restart. would i dare.
the sande feels grainy under my feet. it tuck my toes into it as it dances wetly between and around. i love the light and shadow, shiney and matt, the dancing light and the contrasts, of freshly wetting sand.
i could sit for hours staring at the waves like this. the silence soothingly sorrounds me; the wave songs dont break it, just underline it. my mind drifts and i think of nothing and everything. but mostly, i wonder, would i ever dare? every wave coming in teases me. each one is like an invitation. but when i am waist deep and the cold and dark plays in my mind, i panic and run away. so i am never born again.
at night, we sit on the old swing, the wood now bleached and faded, the eucalptus overhead, smells floating in the night air. the moon and the stars look different here. just like everywhere else. but here they seem almost more swollen, more yellow ... ripe, pregnant, tempting.
our talk meanders aimlessly from topic to the next. at our feet, rex pants as always. 2 small red circles swing in the dark. we kick ourselves in the air for one last go and go in for the night.
there's so much fire. and so much promise in the fire. and yet so much futility. as often before i remember the last line from a 1000 acres.
as the end approaches, i find myself shying back. i almost know what i want, but i would never dare to reach out and get it. and who knows how badly the singed hands would burn? who says we this is the age of female freedom? we have just exchanged one prison for another. once if you wanted, they looked at you in horror. now if you dont, ur as much a freak.
watched a lot of new movies in the annual catch-up-with-bollywood-a-thon: krish, my brother nikhil, corporate, golmaal, gangster ... gangster still haunts me. such a beautifully painted picture of a perfect love, a perfect guy, a perfect end ... or was it? life and fancies are so far apart. do we ever know what we want? i dont even try.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
on the road again
this time the time to go crept up on me totally unawares. what with this long illness and no net at home and the prolonge sick leave from work, theres a haze of unreality which did not let the facts seek in. i will be on the road for a few days now. will update as soon as i am in dubai and settled in. a few days and its off again, back in edinburgh on the 11th ... like they say, be careful what u wish for - every wish u didnt really want, will come true.
saw KANK and it blew my mind - the mirror effect! so, there must be enough malcontents like us out there for them to make a movie out of them. also, amazed at how faithfully he captured the minutae of an extra maritial relantionship, the bitterness, the little everyday hurts of living with a dead relationship ... though i could have lived w/o some of the humour
Originally Posted at Prerona.
saw KANK and it blew my mind - the mirror effect! so, there must be enough malcontents like us out there for them to make a movie out of them. also, amazed at how faithfully he captured the minutae of an extra maritial relantionship, the bitterness, the little everyday hurts of living with a dead relationship ... though i could have lived w/o some of the humour
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Rain-Shell
dhurrr! bhallagchhena ... the much used much abused mantra that is the the old, frayed blue jeans of my vocabulary, if 'dunno' is like the little black dress. the latter can mean anything. the former, always means excatly the same thing, but what that thing is, is very hard to define precisely w/o using those words
DSC04166
Originally uploaded by prerona.
its a state of being i almost permanently live in. not sad, but not happy. not listless, but close. not bored, but could be soon. wanting something, which either i cant identify, or i know i cant have. its when u cant muster up the desire, or energy, or will or life to either stay or go, run or rest, laugh or cry or stare blankly into the blue summer skies
i was driving home from work last night, very late. near empty roads. a wet slice of rain floating on the surface of the world, the clouds, the lightning, the grinning demons of the red, green, yellow lights distorted into the mirrors all around, that were made by the rain, & the gentle giants grumbling above intermittently, and the pictures that flashed through my head, crystal clear and with no apparent meaning or purpose, could have been a psychadelic dream.
another dream comes to a close, mid reach. now ill stop looking. the tape in the car starts singing my favourite song, a PJ. Helplessly, I sing along. Aloud. So I'm driving down Broad St singing out loud with Pearl Jam and Ben Harper. Probably, a good thing that it was too late for too many people to be out.
later, after dinner, i lie on my back on the terrace. the moon is full and fat. its a night for the wolf and the crow. as the clouds stroke the moons face, and the wind mine, i think about what i think about. i wonder how come i am almost always lost in thought, yet never think about anything constructive. i think a lot of us know v little about ourselves. i less than most. lot of times i see people who have these very strong ideas abt themselves, who they are, what they want, where they are headed ... but more often than not. they are so obviously wrong. and they will never see it till the time is right. noone ever see's anything till the time is right. thats why I find arguing such a waste of time. and 'resolving issues' ... whats thepoint? what r u going to resolve anyway.
also, i wonder about the most basic question again and again: what do I want out of life? somehow everyday finding the answers seems more and mroe important. and everyday the answer slips further away. i am slipping into my worst nightmare: to be born, exist & die ... like a cockroach. and maybe its only right. maybe thats just the law of nature that our recent generations with their swollen sense of self dont comprehend. there is, perhaps, no meaning to fathom, no purpose to strive for, no gods to worship nor 'The 1' to dream about. everything is biology and chemistry and fate or chance. whichever. who'd care, then. even as the words form in my brain, a childish bitterness and anger rise like bile in my throat. a mute, insane desire to kick out at life, hit back, throw away, reject it. i dont want to be a cockroach. but halfsmiling, a pan-like shadow lurks in the background. a more "mature" self, and it says, 'are you sure'?
i saw omkara. I really loved it. Spent all of Monday reading miscellaneous reviews. I think the one i liked best was this one by b.rangan. I have downloaded all the songs but can't stop listening to "O Saathi Re". I wonder why its so hypnotic to me? The words, the tune, the music are all great, but not that spectacular. I think what is haunting is the mood, of the song, of the romance, of the movie. the song, that sequence, those scenes ... for me, thats the perfect love story. isnt Othello the most romantic of all stories? even better than the beauty and the beast! wouldnt not any woman rather be love and be loved so deeply, completely and purely, for a brief period of time, find a giant of a man, a hero, a god ... even if you had to die at his hands ... than live forever with lukewarm feelings and half-people who will be sweet and loving forever, in their lukewarm way. personal point of view. maybe most women would.
coming back to the movie, i really thought always abt shakespear that though his plays were the equivalent of trashy novels and soap operas at some level, his character sketches were brilliant. some even made you hunger for more, like i still wonder what cassius would have been like if he had paid more attn to him in jc. but i think omkara dug even deeper in to the character and painted every shade even more brilliantly. my favourite 2 shots: kareena swinging at the door of her house laughing and teasing kesu and kareena swinging above ajay devgans body on the floor.
only thing i didnt like about the movie was konkona saying 'hasi bahut mehengi ho rakhi hai ...' 2ce too many (3'ce total). do people really have catch phrases in real life. dunno. dont care. it clashed, for me.
other favourite scenes, tyagi and the xgroom at the bridge and vivek oberoi with the man in thecar with the phone. yes. that the kind of sudden burst of helpless anger and simmering burning branding jealousy - like a summer storm - here one sec gone the next - that i know about
another ghostly scene was the one where ajay devgan confesses, jab dolly ke akho me dekhta hun (hauntingly familiar). but the best of all was when she sings him the song. the look on her face. the way she smiles. the trust. the innocence. the pride. the purity. like a kitten playing in the jaw of a tiger, blissful, bcz it cant comprehend a reason for anyone to hurt anything ... is what it reminded me off
memories and ghosts, is what the movie stirred. memories & snapshots stacked away in dusty back rooms of the mind. disturbing lazy and fat moths and sway cobwebs. is it some strange co incidence or is there some deeper significance, that so many memories have been stirring lately?
there's a certain type of book that i avoid. they dont all techincally fall in that category, but i do lump them together as 'self help books'. maybe they are all just books that try to tell you what to do. or maybe not. recently someone gave me one of these books to read and as usual i couldnt say no. it seemed to me at that time that it would be disrespectful to the feelings which prompted his wanting to share something he enjoyed with me. so i said yes and thought wtf, ill just try to force myself thru it just this once. as usual, i was wrong. it was a huge mistake. not only am i hating the book, i feel like its poisoning my mind and filling it with the weirdest of thoughts.i could just stop reading it and give it back, but i cant bring myself to do that for the same reasons i said yes in the first place. besides, i hate having haf read books in my read-list. yet whenever i pick up the book i am filled with loathing and disgust. disproportionate? yes. helpless? yes. indicative? yes. I know that if I had summoned up the courage to face the confrontation and said right in the beginning, when it was offered, or even soon after, that I dont want to read it, much trouble would have been saved all round. The Art of Saying No ... is something I need to learn. and fast! that and to avoid or run away from discussion bcz they look 'ugly'; bcz we cant change our basic natures, and there is a kind of tolerance for 'differentness' which comes from i know not where in some people, with some people ... which cant be cultivated, faked or forced
after a long time, i fell asleep alone in my room, on the mattress next to the window. i woke up, half afraid, half bored with sleeping, at about 3. the rain and the wind outside swirled around the house, around my room. it was a full moon night and there was a crow screeching on the terrace. drenched. its still raining, though its dropped down to a drizzle. even the rains are capricious here.
when i finally woke up it was 8. with wakefulness dawning realised the gnawing sense of
my horoscope for the day says "love is all around, if you can only see it. You may or may not have a romantic prospect in your life, but more importantly, you're surrounded by affection. Friends, family, coworkers -- they adore you". right ...
Originally Posted at Prerona.
DSC04166
Originally uploaded by prerona.
its a state of being i almost permanently live in. not sad, but not happy. not listless, but close. not bored, but could be soon. wanting something, which either i cant identify, or i know i cant have. its when u cant muster up the desire, or energy, or will or life to either stay or go, run or rest, laugh or cry or stare blankly into the blue summer skies
i was driving home from work last night, very late. near empty roads. a wet slice of rain floating on the surface of the world, the clouds, the lightning, the grinning demons of the red, green, yellow lights distorted into the mirrors all around, that were made by the rain, & the gentle giants grumbling above intermittently, and the pictures that flashed through my head, crystal clear and with no apparent meaning or purpose, could have been a psychadelic dream.
another dream comes to a close, mid reach. now ill stop looking. the tape in the car starts singing my favourite song, a PJ. Helplessly, I sing along. Aloud. So I'm driving down Broad St singing out loud with Pearl Jam and Ben Harper. Probably, a good thing that it was too late for too many people to be out.
later, after dinner, i lie on my back on the terrace. the moon is full and fat. its a night for the wolf and the crow. as the clouds stroke the moons face, and the wind mine, i think about what i think about. i wonder how come i am almost always lost in thought, yet never think about anything constructive. i think a lot of us know v little about ourselves. i less than most. lot of times i see people who have these very strong ideas abt themselves, who they are, what they want, where they are headed ... but more often than not. they are so obviously wrong. and they will never see it till the time is right. noone ever see's anything till the time is right. thats why I find arguing such a waste of time. and 'resolving issues' ... whats thepoint? what r u going to resolve anyway.
also, i wonder about the most basic question again and again: what do I want out of life? somehow everyday finding the answers seems more and mroe important. and everyday the answer slips further away. i am slipping into my worst nightmare: to be born, exist & die ... like a cockroach. and maybe its only right. maybe thats just the law of nature that our recent generations with their swollen sense of self dont comprehend. there is, perhaps, no meaning to fathom, no purpose to strive for, no gods to worship nor 'The 1' to dream about. everything is biology and chemistry and fate or chance. whichever. who'd care, then. even as the words form in my brain, a childish bitterness and anger rise like bile in my throat. a mute, insane desire to kick out at life, hit back, throw away, reject it. i dont want to be a cockroach. but halfsmiling, a pan-like shadow lurks in the background. a more "mature" self, and it says, 'are you sure'?
i saw omkara. I really loved it. Spent all of Monday reading miscellaneous reviews. I think the one i liked best was this one by b.rangan. I have downloaded all the songs but can't stop listening to "O Saathi Re". I wonder why its so hypnotic to me? The words, the tune, the music are all great, but not that spectacular. I think what is haunting is the mood, of the song, of the romance, of the movie. the song, that sequence, those scenes ... for me, thats the perfect love story. isnt Othello the most romantic of all stories? even better than the beauty and the beast! wouldnt not any woman rather be love and be loved so deeply, completely and purely, for a brief period of time, find a giant of a man, a hero, a god ... even if you had to die at his hands ... than live forever with lukewarm feelings and half-people who will be sweet and loving forever, in their lukewarm way. personal point of view. maybe most women would.
coming back to the movie, i really thought always abt shakespear that though his plays were the equivalent of trashy novels and soap operas at some level, his character sketches were brilliant. some even made you hunger for more, like i still wonder what cassius would have been like if he had paid more attn to him in jc. but i think omkara dug even deeper in to the character and painted every shade even more brilliantly. my favourite 2 shots: kareena swinging at the door of her house laughing and teasing kesu and kareena swinging above ajay devgans body on the floor.
only thing i didnt like about the movie was konkona saying 'hasi bahut mehengi ho rakhi hai ...' 2ce too many (3'ce total). do people really have catch phrases in real life. dunno. dont care. it clashed, for me.
other favourite scenes, tyagi and the xgroom at the bridge and vivek oberoi with the man in thecar with the phone. yes. that the kind of sudden burst of helpless anger and simmering burning branding jealousy - like a summer storm - here one sec gone the next - that i know about
another ghostly scene was the one where ajay devgan confesses, jab dolly ke akho me dekhta hun (hauntingly familiar). but the best of all was when she sings him the song. the look on her face. the way she smiles. the trust. the innocence. the pride. the purity. like a kitten playing in the jaw of a tiger, blissful, bcz it cant comprehend a reason for anyone to hurt anything ... is what it reminded me off
memories and ghosts, is what the movie stirred. memories & snapshots stacked away in dusty back rooms of the mind. disturbing lazy and fat moths and sway cobwebs. is it some strange co incidence or is there some deeper significance, that so many memories have been stirring lately?
there's a certain type of book that i avoid. they dont all techincally fall in that category, but i do lump them together as 'self help books'. maybe they are all just books that try to tell you what to do. or maybe not. recently someone gave me one of these books to read and as usual i couldnt say no. it seemed to me at that time that it would be disrespectful to the feelings which prompted his wanting to share something he enjoyed with me. so i said yes and thought wtf, ill just try to force myself thru it just this once. as usual, i was wrong. it was a huge mistake. not only am i hating the book, i feel like its poisoning my mind and filling it with the weirdest of thoughts.i could just stop reading it and give it back, but i cant bring myself to do that for the same reasons i said yes in the first place. besides, i hate having haf read books in my read-list. yet whenever i pick up the book i am filled with loathing and disgust. disproportionate? yes. helpless? yes. indicative? yes. I know that if I had summoned up the courage to face the confrontation and said right in the beginning, when it was offered, or even soon after, that I dont want to read it, much trouble would have been saved all round. The Art of Saying No ... is something I need to learn. and fast! that and to avoid or run away from discussion bcz they look 'ugly'; bcz we cant change our basic natures, and there is a kind of tolerance for 'differentness' which comes from i know not where in some people, with some people ... which cant be cultivated, faked or forced
after a long time, i fell asleep alone in my room, on the mattress next to the window. i woke up, half afraid, half bored with sleeping, at about 3. the rain and the wind outside swirled around the house, around my room. it was a full moon night and there was a crow screeching on the terrace. drenched. its still raining, though its dropped down to a drizzle. even the rains are capricious here.
when i finally woke up it was 8. with wakefulness dawning realised the gnawing sense of
my horoscope for the day says "love is all around, if you can only see it. You may or may not have a romantic prospect in your life, but more importantly, you're surrounded by affection. Friends, family, coworkers -- they adore you". right ...
Originally Posted at Prerona.
moleskin
Discovery of the week: A site dedicated to my beloved moleskin! Please go and see moleskinery.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Memories & Random Thoughts
About five years ago, someone had sung me a song over the telephone. He had heard it on the radio while passing through a shop. Inspite of the fleeting aquaintance, it had stayed behind in his mind; perhaps because he thought he knew all of Guru's songs, however obscure, and was surprised at a new discovery. I too, fell in love with the song instantly and it stayed in my head. From time to time I would search for it, wherever I could think of. After all these years, I finally found the song ... http://songs.kishorekumar.org/Man_Kare_Yaad_Woh_Din.ram.
Its strange how somethings can pass through your mind, your life, so fleetingly, and leave footprints so permanent. If I close my eyes I can still hear the song in my head, feel all the feelings: the sun, the rain, the hills, the echos, the vada pav. Maybe, its enough. In some strange way, having found the song and being able to hear it again, physically, did not take my enjoyment of it significantly higher than what I got from having it play constantly in my head.
As always memories come with ghalib, or ghalib with memories. time and rust makes my memories fuzzy and i mix up and misquote him in my head. dair nahin, haram nahin,
dar nahin, aastan nahin. baithe hain reh guzar pe hum. gair hamein uthaye kyon? rahi na taquat e guftaar, aur agar ho bhi, toh kis umeed pein kahiye ki, aarzoo kya hain. jala hain jism, toh jigar bhi jal gaya hoga. khured te ho, jo ab raakh, arzoo kya hain. huyi muddat ki ghalib mar gaya, per yaad aata hain, woh har ek baat pein kehna ki yun hota, toh kya hota.
Its been a while since I heard jagjit singh or mehdi hassan or ghulam ali. i feel like listening to 'mujhe tum nazar se', but again i cant ever find the song.
I finally saw Fanaa. It was showing on cable. I couldnt get over how much they went on and on about. My poor Sanju Baba, didnt get anything! Maybe they started of for Guru and went on, on momentum!
I want to see The movie, Yun Hota toh Kya hota, Corporate, Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna, Pyar ka Side Effects and Double Entry ... Ajay, Saif, Viveck, Rahul Bose & Rajat Kapur ... what more can you want from life ;0)
I was thinking today that every male, bollywood actor I have ever had a crush on, except sanju, started out as a guy no one likes and everyone says 'yuck! y do u like him?' ... but then they make it and suddenly everyone likes him! By which point usually I dont like him that much anymore. Ajay Devgan, Saif Ali Khan, Dushman, Rajat Kapur, Abhishekh ... and actually even the females ... zeenat aman, sush, antara, rani mukherjee ...
Its strange how somethings can pass through your mind, your life, so fleetingly, and leave footprints so permanent. If I close my eyes I can still hear the song in my head, feel all the feelings: the sun, the rain, the hills, the echos, the vada pav. Maybe, its enough. In some strange way, having found the song and being able to hear it again, physically, did not take my enjoyment of it significantly higher than what I got from having it play constantly in my head.
As always memories come with ghalib, or ghalib with memories. time and rust makes my memories fuzzy and i mix up and misquote him in my head. dair nahin, haram nahin,
dar nahin, aastan nahin. baithe hain reh guzar pe hum. gair hamein uthaye kyon? rahi na taquat e guftaar, aur agar ho bhi, toh kis umeed pein kahiye ki, aarzoo kya hain. jala hain jism, toh jigar bhi jal gaya hoga. khured te ho, jo ab raakh, arzoo kya hain. huyi muddat ki ghalib mar gaya, per yaad aata hain, woh har ek baat pein kehna ki yun hota, toh kya hota.
Its been a while since I heard jagjit singh or mehdi hassan or ghulam ali. i feel like listening to 'mujhe tum nazar se', but again i cant ever find the song.
I finally saw Fanaa. It was showing on cable. I couldnt get over how much they went on and on about. My poor Sanju Baba, didnt get anything! Maybe they started of for Guru and went on, on momentum!
I want to see The movie, Yun Hota toh Kya hota, Corporate, Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna, Pyar ka Side Effects and Double Entry ... Ajay, Saif, Viveck, Rahul Bose & Rajat Kapur ... what more can you want from life ;0)
I was thinking today that every male, bollywood actor I have ever had a crush on, except sanju, started out as a guy no one likes and everyone says 'yuck! y do u like him?' ... but then they make it and suddenly everyone likes him! By which point usually I dont like him that much anymore. Ajay Devgan, Saif Ali Khan, Dushman, Rajat Kapur, Abhishekh ... and actually even the females ... zeenat aman, sush, antara, rani mukherjee ...
dusk
On the way up to Rammam
Originally uploaded by prerona.
so i melt another sun
and hold it in my palm
and tip my cupped hand
to pour it down
and i strike another moon alight
and blow an underwater storm
and cover it up with calm rivulets,
neatly.
Originally Posted at Prerona.
Goose Clouds
view from train on the way to NJP: Goose Clouds
Originally uploaded by prerona.
and then,
when the day was done,
i lit a moon
and i tucked in the sun;
and the stars, curious,
came out one by one
miraculously, the world
glimmered once more.
i turned again. reborn.
i came home then;
with my soul safe in my pocket;
thank you, life,
for saving me again.
renewed, everything is once more young.
forgiven, i am once more begun.
the harsh sun, has gone away down.
tomorrows sun, might be a fairer one.
Originally Posted at Prerona.