Caution

Do not be proud of what you have,

Never condemn in your perceived perfection

Things stay constant for but a fleeting second

The condemned shall rise to dispel your misconceptions


Exercise caution, Beware!

They may be fictitious, the things for which you care

Your life may stray, from plan far away

Reduced to the cinders of a laughable play


The bat of an eye,

A twist of fate,

Changing horizons,

Changing gait,

Mutating inheritance,

Altering relations,

Reality walks with a gleam in the eye,

Only to one day make you see

How mercurial life can be!

Awakening

Seaface

The fickleness of friendship

The brevity of love

The longevity of pain

The plan from up above

The unreasonable responsibilities

the reasonable guilt at shirking it

The unsurmountable mountain of expectations

The small hill of your ambitions

The fight within you, you are constantly losing

The fight outside, you must win

The quest you began, lying forgotten

The road thrust on you, under your feet

The memories, bittersweet,flashing,fleeting

The ambitions, like dreams, caricatures and unease

What is your life?

The child sees, wants, builds a wonderful castle

The adult understands, bargains, and cuts it down to size

Life is nothing but a child’s dream being rudely broken by an adult’s reality.

Know better

The end of something. Is it really the beginning of another?
I think something somewhere just dies.
Never to be the same, ever.

The loss of someone. Overcome because you found another?
I think it strange to replace soul with soul.
But we constantly want better.

If only, we knew better.

Void

Writing is like my purging ritual. Its a cathartic process, it makes me put things in perspective and get them out of my system. Its like crying for me, its got healing properties. But then there are some times that you just can’t express what you feel. Or that you have had enough of explaining or talking about urself in a world where nobody really listens. After all, this is a public platform, and used mostly to broadcast posts. But I have never really looked at my blog like that. Its my world where I share things that I don’t/can’t otherwise. Where I ramble without fear of judgement or prejudice. It may not be the truth, but i’m going to assume it to be true for a while. Most of my posts remain drafts because I’m never fully convinced of this thought. But today i’m going to assume and overlook. Otherwise this silence is can be numbing.

I really don’t have anything specific to talk about. I just want to talk. I want to tell things I have been cataloging in my memory for conversations that will never happen. I want to tell how happy I was when I got an unexpected birthday present I always wanted (a painting easel!), how happy I was when a friend posted an exceptionally nice birthday wish on my timeline, how sad I was when I realised I should have spent more time knowing this particular friend and being with her, how sad I was when a friend I really cherished slowly started to drift away from me. I want to share the anxiety that lurks just under my skin about my uncertain future, I want to share the accomplishment of finally finishing a big and much awaited part of my life, I want to share the fact that I have been unable to express my emotions with anyone for a while, that i’ve become very good at pretending. I want to talk about how I felt when I got rejected from one place after the other, but also about how nice I felt when I finally finished writing my thesis. I want to be able to explain the pain it is, still, to go to work to the same place everyday, and how I have made myself immune to that emotion now. I want to talk about every insignificant detail of my life, but I have not, not the things that really matter to me anyway. I was not like this, but I have changed, and its mostly for the better I guess. Its not necessary to talk about everything. You mostly just end up making a fool of yourself.

There are spaces within you that cannot be shared, healed, mended or removed. These spaces often contain a myriad of emotions and memories, but sometimes they overflow and get so crowded they start to die, leaving nothing at all.

There is no filling some voids. They will always be there. In all their nothingness. I need to accept that.

Noises

Thud!

Did you hear the noise?

I just fell out of grace

It was not by choice

Slippery

The sand seems slimy

Time is uncertain

Its running out fast, blimey!

Gurgling

The memories boil

Anger, love, friendship,

Contentment turned to turmoil

Beep!

The phone cried

Call, message, a reminder?

No, The battery just died.

Something is not Right

We  are scared,

Its not perfect, It may never be

Lets not pursue a dream that is not meant to be

Lets spare us the pain, the trials of love

that otherwise may stay forever

If it was an easy choice, shouldn’t I rejoice?

Seems Something is not quite right.

It seems the only solution, the inevitable end

It seems only logical, Its not just a bend

Anymore, its a full blown dent

If it is so simple, shouldn’t I feel light?

But Something is not quite right.

Its a matter of choice,

Its a matter of wants.

Its shaping your life by the will of your hands.

Its choosing a future

But loosing a past

Its hoping the decision was right

And may last.

If the biggest fear, still

Is the knowledge that you will be forgotten

That promises easily overwritten

That you lose the right to fight,

Something is definitely not right.

But some decisions are such

They’re a one-way street

You each take your own,

And wish, that one-day

They may meet!

Old and New

Looking for a new view

Seeking the Old, in a new purview

Old is familiar, safe and easy

New is unknown, murky and scary….

Old is stable, secure and sure

But it needs New; constant recourse

New brings action, hope and life

Old is gold; but stagnant it dies

Keep the Old, with a dash of new….

Every once in a while,

Change the damn view!

Mirage

We build around,

Completely surround

Ourselves in a thought

Nay, a reality.

“Its true, so true

I’ve never been blue

For lack of love for me.

Its perfect, my life

all “quadrants” alive

I got what I wanted

In a heartbeat’s time”

 

These Mirages they keep

You in an oasis of sleep

A promise of relief

to a parched throat,

Of rest and happiness

to a parched soul.

 

Like a fantasy though,

The oasis is fickle and fragile

You think you get it,

but somewhere

Something is not right

 

You see through clouded eyes,

A picture perfect life

Till one day the atmosphere decides,

Its deluded you enough this life

It breaks the illusion

Ruthless, just leaves confusion

 

And u wonder, unstrung

Were u better off deluded?

or are u now more alive?

 

Away

runaway

All I wanted today

Was to run far away

To leave it all behind,

To hide myself in a shrine

With relics of my past,

Of a future I dreamed the night before last

Peaceful at heart, soul and mind,

And at peace with itself at the same time

Beautiful memories of times gone by,

Aspirations to build new memories, to try,

And yearn for a life that makes you proud,

Content, happy and devoid of the shroud,

Tired I am of donning which,

Its time I retired it, let it sit,

Its time I run away,

Far far away…..

Pursuit of Creativity

I know I havent written for a while now, things have been so busy lately I hardly get any spare time. But I have time today, due an unforseen and unwanted error of sorts. If you know me and what I do, its not very hard to guess what may’ve happened, and I shall leave it at that.

All this while, I didn’t realise that creativity was leaking out of me. I kept postponing creative pursuits, thinking other things were more demanding. I kept loosing touch with my creativity. I always thought the culprit was time. ‘I shall get to it when there is time, and there it will be, waiting for me like no time had passed.’   Hah.

But now I feel I was wrong. Every time I chose something else over pursuing my creativity, a part of it died, or left me. Its like it felt abandoned, it felt cheated and lost. I’m sure it must’ve waited for me for a while, but it couldn’t handle the long bereavement. Can I blame it for leaving me? I guess not. I was an unfaithful partner. But I loved it nonetheless. I loved it like I’ve loved nothing else, for it gave me the most beautiful, happy and contented moments of my life.  I cherished it most dearly, for I thought it precious; One of the few things I was proud of possessing.

I may deserve what I got, I don’t have enough to debate there. But I miss my creativity, my random bursts of talent, my happiness on the successful creation of a work of art. Its painful sometimes to feel handicapped, to be not able to put on paper what you want to, the way you want to. I guess that’s just my curse for not nurturing what I was given.

What amazes me is how despite this realisation and the pain it causes, I continue ahead on the path where I see no redemption.

Such is life…sometimes you ruin it yourself.