Tiny small olives
Three,actually one of three
Two sleepless nights
One edgy couple
Thin crust pizzas
And this is just the prelude
The alcohol is hand made
But not the wit
The paws on the neck are too on the face
So is the bling of "I play car race"
Eyes drowning in sleep
But not the mind
Text-pectations to be set or surprise has a better shock value
Is not really the question
The question is
what was I talking about again?
Oh yes,
Three,Tiny small olives
Three? Actually one of three
Showing posts with label Random. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Random. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Means Everything
It doesnt mean a thing
Highly over-rated
And picking up pieces is not met under deadlines,not even without deadlines
Television makes no sense,nor does meat
Not even cigarettes....
I think I am suffering from caffeine and alien deficiency
I need to be abducted by aliens or meet Captain Hook or exchange lives with Peter Pan
But Peter Pan is stubborn and he hates grown ups, so maybe he will understand.
And together we will banish Captain Hook and I will keep his red hat and the tool box.
I need to dirty my hands with turpentine and lightners, but the black buck needs to fly in before that.
Highly over-rated
And picking up pieces is not met under deadlines,not even without deadlines
Television makes no sense,nor does meat
Not even cigarettes....
I think I am suffering from caffeine and alien deficiency
I need to be abducted by aliens or meet Captain Hook or exchange lives with Peter Pan
But Peter Pan is stubborn and he hates grown ups, so maybe he will understand.
And together we will banish Captain Hook and I will keep his red hat and the tool box.
I need to dirty my hands with turpentine and lightners, but the black buck needs to fly in before that.
Monday, June 22, 2009
The insight behind i dun have time.....
As from the last post the idea was to grow but as I can see I have not....
Not travelled or evolved to a level that I do not get mundane but do exciting things.....I dun wana plan,jus go ahead n do stuff.....I want to activate twitter and blogspot on my phone....seriously.Then maybe the thots will not die an untimely death while they have the potential to brightly light my life but eventually get lost since I am @ wrk, or jus too fucking tired to switch on the laptop.Or get caught up with mundane stuff.....the environment is also not conducive but the fear of probing for solutions does kill the way ahead to a large extent.
Pills today fwded me pics of Barrack Obama chilling in the White House,his life looks so contented.And a life accomplished.
What m hating about myself for a while now is the whole bit about...ambitions and aspects getting ruled by the norms laid out. What is wrong? Is it age or m i turning out to be a coward since I dun wanna risk it?
What is it all about?
Answers.....as someone once said is myb in the question itself
Not travelled or evolved to a level that I do not get mundane but do exciting things.....I dun wana plan,jus go ahead n do stuff.....I want to activate twitter and blogspot on my phone....seriously.Then maybe the thots will not die an untimely death while they have the potential to brightly light my life but eventually get lost since I am @ wrk, or jus too fucking tired to switch on the laptop.Or get caught up with mundane stuff.....the environment is also not conducive but the fear of probing for solutions does kill the way ahead to a large extent.
Pills today fwded me pics of Barrack Obama chilling in the White House,his life looks so contented.And a life accomplished.
What m hating about myself for a while now is the whole bit about...ambitions and aspects getting ruled by the norms laid out. What is wrong? Is it age or m i turning out to be a coward since I dun wanna risk it?
What is it all about?
Answers.....as someone once said is myb in the question itself
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Losing the Plot
I seem not to find no time to do some thing that I used to really enjoy - I don't blog, I hardly listen to music, I don't read books at the same pace and definitely without the same excitement levels, and worst of all, I think about work all the time.
Also the not nice things that come with it clutter my brain.... Damn it, I am turning to a nasty workaholic. Stop Stop....I wanna get down....
Thursday,@ 15:00 Hrs,when I am at work....
Also the not nice things that come with it clutter my brain.... Damn it, I am turning to a nasty workaholic. Stop Stop....I wanna get down....
Thursday,@ 15:00 Hrs,when I am at work....
Monday, May 04, 2009
Angel on the way
Mondays mostly come adorned with a shade of grey.
Thankfully the sun was nice and warm, and as I started towards work, the flash of the
image jus left an impression that still keeps the smile lingering on the lips.
A lil girl, sleepy sitting on a cycle thela between tins and scraps.....
Our eyes met and she took a while to return my smile.
But what she returned was priceless, a smile that keeps one going through all not so nice moments.
Shabby,Sleepy,Lost but sweetheart you are an angel!
And Delhi for the first time since August seemed humane to me.
A nice week awaiting :)
Thankfully the sun was nice and warm, and as I started towards work, the flash of the
image jus left an impression that still keeps the smile lingering on the lips.
A lil girl, sleepy sitting on a cycle thela between tins and scraps.....
Our eyes met and she took a while to return my smile.
But what she returned was priceless, a smile that keeps one going through all not so nice moments.
Shabby,Sleepy,Lost but sweetheart you are an angel!
And Delhi for the first time since August seemed humane to me.
A nice week awaiting :)
Thursday, April 02, 2009
When I was thinking.....
Have been thinking a lot
The patterns of thought have different textures and feel
As much I am getting illusive about human beings,my headspace is getting crammed by them. I dont want to talk or even listen to blabbers.
It sickens me,makes me feel stagnated to the extent I only crib and cry.
Even then it does not feel great,its like waiting for a getaway.
And then it happened.
Finding the dark side of the moon, nooo,not Floyd,jus like that
And then the inability to hide my disjointedness
And then the inability to disassociate
I wonder where will it all take me.....
Maybe to a deserted hill top, find a quaint cottage,and smoke up and read n write
and think not to come up with something,but generally think like that.
This colleague of mine said the other day - our economy is emotional.
Wish he writes on that, there was spark in the phrase!
Till then lemme mull over all the funny things I do for a living.
The patterns of thought have different textures and feel
As much I am getting illusive about human beings,my headspace is getting crammed by them. I dont want to talk or even listen to blabbers.
It sickens me,makes me feel stagnated to the extent I only crib and cry.
Even then it does not feel great,its like waiting for a getaway.
And then it happened.
Finding the dark side of the moon, nooo,not Floyd,jus like that
And then the inability to hide my disjointedness
And then the inability to disassociate
I wonder where will it all take me.....
Maybe to a deserted hill top, find a quaint cottage,and smoke up and read n write
and think not to come up with something,but generally think like that.
This colleague of mine said the other day - our economy is emotional.
Wish he writes on that, there was spark in the phrase!
Till then lemme mull over all the funny things I do for a living.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Disconnected Journey with Kari
I do not know where you came from
You seemed to be my dying angel
Unreal reality you appear to be
You brought out my fears alive
Kari, do you live in me?
I know you did once upon a time
And then I lost you in the crowd of life
But somewhere deep inside you create the ripples of lonesome delight
My memory of the absentee other is deep embedded
But the images of the same are getting blurred
Tell me Kari, is it really a race towards death where you fight to be the first?
My cityscape had tall buildings, and bunch of bright lights when I lived there last
Since then every time I crawled to go back, I realized I have not reached far.
Home that is, was or will be the place that I will never look for solace,
I love my free fall,
The maximum city has also altered since I left
But its still has my secrets safe inside
Unseen faces, a sip of the poisonous kiss
Unseen eyes, a peek into the barren hearth
Most often there are logical beginnings, ends and consolidations
To my relationships, be with people, spaces, moments or words
But often I wonder what if somebody gave me the constitution without the preamble?
These are not my words, if they discover they will say its yours
But Kari they were hidden in my heart
Till you graphized them on several other minds
In between the smoky, stingy lanes
I played with pretty boys till the other side said, space is not alive
The rains make me happy and sad
They set me free and chain me down
Coherent words loses itself midst the gusty wind
Never knew if there were laws in love
Was it ever love if it was not free? Time and incidents as you say, just comes by…
I am half baked in the half cooked truth
That nobody would ever own me
Since the time I have wrenched my umbilical cord
I loved silence but sometimes homosapiens analyze it
And my over analytical self gets moving into the trespasser forbidden zone
Of Foucault’s psychoanalysis and interpretation of dreams
Where often known souls become strangers, which tells me every morning of the time for which I think I need to prepare.
At twenty one I knew my teen celeb dream was dead
Five years later I see I do not have awards or creations invaluable to my name
I walk up stairs, see glitzy dreams, and churn severe ambitions but nowhere it leads
Me to the a destination where I can smile and fall from a cliff
I want to have an epitaph reading Been There, Done that
But I also want to be the boatman to ferry across those few rats!
Sometimes I feel, other times I know that when people want to kick the bucket
Come and get stuck to me and I forget whose the leach
They think of me like a morbid shit
But Kari you know the death of an urge
To jump into the sea
Can never be as vast as floating in the dark blue sky
Where clouds cover the sun
And life takes yet another turn.
Before I continue walking on the unseen path
Jus wanted to thank you Kari, thank you for our lives crossed.
You seemed to be my dying angel
Unreal reality you appear to be
You brought out my fears alive
Kari, do you live in me?
I know you did once upon a time
And then I lost you in the crowd of life
But somewhere deep inside you create the ripples of lonesome delight
My memory of the absentee other is deep embedded
But the images of the same are getting blurred
Tell me Kari, is it really a race towards death where you fight to be the first?
My cityscape had tall buildings, and bunch of bright lights when I lived there last
Since then every time I crawled to go back, I realized I have not reached far.
Home that is, was or will be the place that I will never look for solace,
I love my free fall,
The maximum city has also altered since I left
But its still has my secrets safe inside
Unseen faces, a sip of the poisonous kiss
Unseen eyes, a peek into the barren hearth
Most often there are logical beginnings, ends and consolidations
To my relationships, be with people, spaces, moments or words
But often I wonder what if somebody gave me the constitution without the preamble?
These are not my words, if they discover they will say its yours
But Kari they were hidden in my heart
Till you graphized them on several other minds
In between the smoky, stingy lanes
I played with pretty boys till the other side said, space is not alive
The rains make me happy and sad
They set me free and chain me down
Coherent words loses itself midst the gusty wind
Never knew if there were laws in love
Was it ever love if it was not free? Time and incidents as you say, just comes by…
I am half baked in the half cooked truth
That nobody would ever own me
Since the time I have wrenched my umbilical cord
I loved silence but sometimes homosapiens analyze it
And my over analytical self gets moving into the trespasser forbidden zone
Of Foucault’s psychoanalysis and interpretation of dreams
Where often known souls become strangers, which tells me every morning of the time for which I think I need to prepare.
At twenty one I knew my teen celeb dream was dead
Five years later I see I do not have awards or creations invaluable to my name
I walk up stairs, see glitzy dreams, and churn severe ambitions but nowhere it leads
Me to the a destination where I can smile and fall from a cliff
I want to have an epitaph reading Been There, Done that
But I also want to be the boatman to ferry across those few rats!
Sometimes I feel, other times I know that when people want to kick the bucket
Come and get stuck to me and I forget whose the leach
They think of me like a morbid shit
But Kari you know the death of an urge
To jump into the sea
Can never be as vast as floating in the dark blue sky
Where clouds cover the sun
And life takes yet another turn.
Before I continue walking on the unseen path
Jus wanted to thank you Kari, thank you for our lives crossed.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
For Basic love of Things
The year is drawing to an end and I am on a high, about the basic love of things. Originated amongst a few Delhi youngsters, this artform appeals to all four senses, they keep the taste buds out, unless one decides to give into some good addiction for the complete feel. For the experience one must go for a gig before turning to the next signal.
Calling themselves BLOT, honestly the music and the visual medium makes an impact that made me travel through time and the roller coaster ride did not need alcohol or stuff to accompany.
But Basic love of things does not begin or end there. It was all over in December. The winter shivers, the craving for a drink of warmth, the excavation of minds, the fact that letting go becomes easier each day, yet leaves a tinkle of sigh. Life cannot seem to encompass itself in a few words, the textures were varied and dear to heart. Going back to Bombay made me grow up in folds. But the raving battle with the old estranged lover seems to be never ending. So much so that everything else seems to be illusionary. Maybe they still are, maybe they will be but it’s the grey I love. It’s the forever changing colour palette that feels the orchids fresh and right on the skin, tickling old emotions, only making one realize it’s not all dead, it’s still simmering somewhere and that is hope for tomorrow.
Amongst people, its amazing to see different worlds collide and still come together over music and life. Aren’t we all trying to create masterpieces all the time? Aren’t we all striving for excellence that will make us immortal? I therefore like the madness of Henry the viii th . Sometimes respecting nothing and loving everything does hold good. It gives you a feeling a completion thats very personal, very signature.
I maybe invisible as me by the end of the year but I will be someone else. The role reversals with people you meet and get intimate with in most inane ways, over shots, over smoke, over chokerblock traffic or tears and most importantly over the promise that we will walk alone with each other . The quirky sunshine is not hiding behind the clouds. Its somewhere in the sky, as I count days for the days to end, I pin my hope to see and hide in the sunshine forever.
I maybe invisible as me by the end of the year but I will be someone else. The role reversals with people you meet and get intimate with in most inane ways, over shots, over smoke, over chokerblock traffic or tears and most importantly over the promise that we will walk alone with each other . The quirky sunshine is not hiding behind the clouds. Its somewhere in the sky, as I count days for the days to end, I pin my hope to see and hide in the sunshine forever.
Lofty ambitions, hope of an impossible?
What if it crashes? Speculation has never led us anywhere. So let the Obama effect take shape, let my country wake up to reasons and determine its future and let my imagination run wilder.
What if it crashes? Speculation has never led us anywhere. So let the Obama effect take shape, let my country wake up to reasons and determine its future and let my imagination run wilder.
Lets live for basic love of things.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Whiney Minie Miney Moe
Ya I want to whine a while, I was wondering if I should use this space,but thanks to our lifestyles and slavery to the keyboard and my almost left blank yearly dairies finally made me get myself to whine here. And play the favourite game as a child,of choosing who shall be slaughtered...Ini,mini,minie,moe.
Enuf, I have too much been talking about the world.
Ya fine,its been threatening my basics and made me addictive to have been reeling under the spell of terrorism,communal violence and wall street crisis but I did keep the regular stuff, that I live with, off the radar.
So whats new? Saw Kidnap-long and short of it...lotz but this Khan is promising.
Did not even take a look at the pujas and seems I didn miss much,of course till my celebrity anjoli pal turned me nostalgic. A lovelorn friend was in town with whom I did revisit my state of affairs too much and still have not reached a conclusion. And then I gave into the regular stuff,and picked up this chick-book called You are here. While I was reading it I was looking into those million times gone by. I have lived them but never thought it could go down to become a book because there was nothing extraordinary about it.
But as chickbook also tells you stories that you had almost forgotten.
And on the eve of 2nd October after almost three months I heard myself engaged into genuine exchange, of ideas,experiences and was listening to people without my mind flying into forbidden areas. Am I coming in terms with my breakup finally? Maybe but the question that now is disturbingly nudging me and not anymore working as the possibility of 'things will be fine' is - have I really broken up? And as always,amongst those few good men and women I have in life,one of them told me a way out,and till that happens I will live through the interim like I have always lived life. Probably thats why cartoon films like spirited away makes one feel so special :)
And at this point, well soulmate,missed you like one of those realllly wanna speak to you times
Met these really interesting bunch of people who are in their quest of life. Happily living moments like its one of those precious times for engaging in a dialogue. And ofcourse the warm hearted prejudiced friend who was all out to work out options for freshly out of break ups. It was embarrasing till I realized its all in good faith.
While I write this however I am taken back to all the memories and I still do not know what went wrong.Why are all our lives so perplexing-ly mundanely screwed? Is it realllllyy true that all my aspirations of being able to break free of what is most obvious will really not see the light of the day? Will I get entwined in the regular whatevers.....I mean its a choice that I have to make. And I do not think it would be that difficult to hang onto the fact that I will not follow rules.
Anyways I have gotten addicted to Leonard Cohen. I cant think of a day in the last three months when I havent read or heard him and as I was hearing tonight will be fine on the comp,on television I saw sex and the city-the movie on Oprah. And that was yet another time I realized what a sucker for chick stuff have I become. Hehhehaahee. Boy it felt so good to see these girls again and of course hearing about all that. As dear Charlotte says 'twenties are the most miserable' I nodded vehemently saying...yes I still do not know what is there to me. Gone are those days when people would be all sorted by 25. Boy I am just 25 and there are 25000000000 things I have to do. How can I ever get sorted to save my life? So dear friends and fellow men,thirties are the new twenties. So much for my convenience.
And most importantly I do not see Mr.Big anywhere in the circumference,forget him in the circle. The guy who plays Mr.Big,Chris Noth is a father of a three and a half year old child. And I cannot begin to get smiling as to how adorable he looked. So in real life he did not have a cold feet . And that leads me to question the real avatar of Mr.Big. Is he all only fiction? Hope not,there must be someone as incompletely complete like him. Or maybe in real life an amalgamation of many nice-ness about men around shapes upto Mr.Big. So therefore keep floating. Dunno if that is a good feeling. Maybe not at the moment,but it excited me till this Quirky delightful disaster happened.
I need to go back to Bombay for a while and get over this bit, I dun want to give up on that special warm hearth because of alleys where I lost myself.
Gosh I can almost start a love story memory museum in sometime.
But honestly doesn't all of this almost make me feel miserable that the hopeless romance like Roman Holiday kinds does not exist anymore.
Well honestly it does.
But with a fairly good number of failed relationships I am beginning to question the concept itself. One can always choose to be a hopeless romantic at heart and not compromise. But then it is important to realize that humans are susceptible to change of kinds unheard of.
For some I am surely the crazy romantic kinds and for others I am the brutal honest demon sucking out all romance.
Ya,as I write this I also realize I know what I do not want but at the same time I dont really know the inner calling. What does it take to be the right man or be the right partner? There is no formula and thats nothing new I am telling you but what about those couples you come by and say,they are just so perfect!
I do not know how is life gonna shape up,I mean I never wanted to know,but I think the times are changing and as of today I am feeling better to be able to look up and chase my dreams again,the half written scripts,the dead dear laptop,the disengagement with the world,not paying attention to whats happening inside me, all of that needs to change.
It has to blossom to a fresh autumn morning.
Maybe I will smash myself over alcohol and stuff and have these really irritating conversations over how I found and lost the perfect man but at the same time I am looking forward to the whole exercise again.
So as this interesting explorer I came by talked about Shamanic dreams and Ayuvaska also mentioned, lemme end it on that note, ya so ....if at all there is something called love.
Hoping the weekend trip planned instinctively will get me better. Over horses and ridges, and deserts and trenches, will there be a Mr. Big waiting?
Well well, if they could be there in a class full or people...amongst hundreds in a rock show,or midst a crowded pub,one must not lose hope.
It happens afterall out of nowhere.
Enuf, I have too much been talking about the world.
Ya fine,its been threatening my basics and made me addictive to have been reeling under the spell of terrorism,communal violence and wall street crisis but I did keep the regular stuff, that I live with, off the radar.
So whats new? Saw Kidnap-long and short of it...lotz but this Khan is promising.
Did not even take a look at the pujas and seems I didn miss much,of course till my celebrity anjoli pal turned me nostalgic. A lovelorn friend was in town with whom I did revisit my state of affairs too much and still have not reached a conclusion. And then I gave into the regular stuff,and picked up this chick-book called You are here. While I was reading it I was looking into those million times gone by. I have lived them but never thought it could go down to become a book because there was nothing extraordinary about it.
But as chickbook also tells you stories that you had almost forgotten.
And on the eve of 2nd October after almost three months I heard myself engaged into genuine exchange, of ideas,experiences and was listening to people without my mind flying into forbidden areas. Am I coming in terms with my breakup finally? Maybe but the question that now is disturbingly nudging me and not anymore working as the possibility of 'things will be fine' is - have I really broken up? And as always,amongst those few good men and women I have in life,one of them told me a way out,and till that happens I will live through the interim like I have always lived life. Probably thats why cartoon films like spirited away makes one feel so special :)
And at this point, well soulmate,missed you like one of those realllly wanna speak to you times
Met these really interesting bunch of people who are in their quest of life. Happily living moments like its one of those precious times for engaging in a dialogue. And ofcourse the warm hearted prejudiced friend who was all out to work out options for freshly out of break ups. It was embarrasing till I realized its all in good faith.
While I write this however I am taken back to all the memories and I still do not know what went wrong.Why are all our lives so perplexing-ly mundanely screwed? Is it realllllyy true that all my aspirations of being able to break free of what is most obvious will really not see the light of the day? Will I get entwined in the regular whatevers.....I mean its a choice that I have to make. And I do not think it would be that difficult to hang onto the fact that I will not follow rules.
Anyways I have gotten addicted to Leonard Cohen. I cant think of a day in the last three months when I havent read or heard him and as I was hearing tonight will be fine on the comp,on television I saw sex and the city-the movie on Oprah. And that was yet another time I realized what a sucker for chick stuff have I become. Hehhehaahee. Boy it felt so good to see these girls again and of course hearing about all that. As dear Charlotte says 'twenties are the most miserable' I nodded vehemently saying...yes I still do not know what is there to me. Gone are those days when people would be all sorted by 25. Boy I am just 25 and there are 25000000000 things I have to do. How can I ever get sorted to save my life? So dear friends and fellow men,thirties are the new twenties. So much for my convenience.
And most importantly I do not see Mr.Big anywhere in the circumference,forget him in the circle. The guy who plays Mr.Big,Chris Noth is a father of a three and a half year old child. And I cannot begin to get smiling as to how adorable he looked. So in real life he did not have a cold feet . And that leads me to question the real avatar of Mr.Big. Is he all only fiction? Hope not,there must be someone as incompletely complete like him. Or maybe in real life an amalgamation of many nice-ness about men around shapes upto Mr.Big. So therefore keep floating. Dunno if that is a good feeling. Maybe not at the moment,but it excited me till this Quirky delightful disaster happened.
I need to go back to Bombay for a while and get over this bit, I dun want to give up on that special warm hearth because of alleys where I lost myself.
Gosh I can almost start a love story memory museum in sometime.
But honestly doesn't all of this almost make me feel miserable that the hopeless romance like Roman Holiday kinds does not exist anymore.
Well honestly it does.
But with a fairly good number of failed relationships I am beginning to question the concept itself. One can always choose to be a hopeless romantic at heart and not compromise. But then it is important to realize that humans are susceptible to change of kinds unheard of.
For some I am surely the crazy romantic kinds and for others I am the brutal honest demon sucking out all romance.
Ya,as I write this I also realize I know what I do not want but at the same time I dont really know the inner calling. What does it take to be the right man or be the right partner? There is no formula and thats nothing new I am telling you but what about those couples you come by and say,they are just so perfect!
I do not know how is life gonna shape up,I mean I never wanted to know,but I think the times are changing and as of today I am feeling better to be able to look up and chase my dreams again,the half written scripts,the dead dear laptop,the disengagement with the world,not paying attention to whats happening inside me, all of that needs to change.
It has to blossom to a fresh autumn morning.
Maybe I will smash myself over alcohol and stuff and have these really irritating conversations over how I found and lost the perfect man but at the same time I am looking forward to the whole exercise again.
So as this interesting explorer I came by talked about Shamanic dreams and Ayuvaska also mentioned, lemme end it on that note, ya so ....if at all there is something called love.
Hoping the weekend trip planned instinctively will get me better. Over horses and ridges, and deserts and trenches, will there be a Mr. Big waiting?
Well well, if they could be there in a class full or people...amongst hundreds in a rock show,or midst a crowded pub,one must not lose hope.
It happens afterall out of nowhere.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
WE.....
WE.....THE THINKERS, THE SEEKERS, THE REBELS
We lost ourselves the day we were born
Since then the search began
To find those of our family
We were confused
For we were given a family of birth
We had friends from our situation
In this funny place called "society"
We traveled
And felt the semblance of the primeval sensation of life
We wondered why we felt at home on the road
We were made to believe we were a little strange
For how many stay away from "home" for so long?
How many become the rebels we did?
We wandered on empty streets in the night
Feeling the wind of the sea, the river, the mountains of wherever we lived…
We had so many questions and no answers we found
We searches, always searched
We searched even for ourselves…
We delved in unfathomable depths of the being
We rowed for months in strange alien seas
We searched for friends of the soul
Somehow no friends we had, ever
Seemed like friends enough…
How could we explain what "friends" meant to us?
Friends were beings so akin to us
They could read our minds
Walk in step with us on those roads of life
Friends were those who traveled with us
Climbed mountains, forged rivers, conquered seas…
Friends were one life breath, strangely
Such few "friends" we ever found in this world
We stayed aloof…from so much
The norms, the religions, thought processes of the world
We risked our lives, our positions, our family relations for our beliefs
We did the things we believed in
Worked for none but ourselves
We were called selfish for we cared
About our own well being…
We fought, we battled,
We ran like mad from so many, so much
We hid, we absconded, we hibernated
Some of us found our soulmates
Some of us didn't
Some of us had homes, children, love
Some of us lived lonely in far away homes
Some of us were fulfilled having found the love
The understanding we seeked, the minds akin to ours
Some of us…after a long time stopped searching having understood that in some lifetimes we were meant to be alone
Our soulmates parted from us, living another life…
May be in another world, probably another time zone…
We, the seekers, the thinkers, the rebels
We ache to get together for nowhere seems like home
We long for company of similar minds, sensibilities
We hurt, we bleed, we pain, we die…
But we live completely, every moment of our lives
Live the good and bad as same
Give all of ourselves to the world…
To nature… to art…
For there is no other way to live we know
We seek answers all the time
We question all the time
We are probably the only ones who know how deep pain carves its being into us
And how full happiness makes us feel…
We are comfortable with extremes
We are comfortable with tears, with abandonment, with aloneness…
We, the unknown ones
We, the misfits
We, the seekers, the thinkers, the rebels…
A forward from a very dear crazy friend whose belief in random-ness: the way of life keeps the glocal (global+local) sanity intact....
We lost ourselves the day we were born
Since then the search began
To find those of our family
We were confused
For we were given a family of birth
We had friends from our situation
In this funny place called "society"
We traveled
And felt the semblance of the primeval sensation of life
We wondered why we felt at home on the road
We were made to believe we were a little strange
For how many stay away from "home" for so long?
How many become the rebels we did?
We wandered on empty streets in the night
Feeling the wind of the sea, the river, the mountains of wherever we lived…
We had so many questions and no answers we found
We searches, always searched
We searched even for ourselves…
We delved in unfathomable depths of the being
We rowed for months in strange alien seas
We searched for friends of the soul
Somehow no friends we had, ever
Seemed like friends enough…
How could we explain what "friends" meant to us?
Friends were beings so akin to us
They could read our minds
Walk in step with us on those roads of life
Friends were those who traveled with us
Climbed mountains, forged rivers, conquered seas…
Friends were one life breath, strangely
Such few "friends" we ever found in this world
We stayed aloof…from so much
The norms, the religions, thought processes of the world
We risked our lives, our positions, our family relations for our beliefs
We did the things we believed in
Worked for none but ourselves
We were called selfish for we cared
About our own well being…
We fought, we battled,
We ran like mad from so many, so much
We hid, we absconded, we hibernated
Some of us found our soulmates
Some of us didn't
Some of us had homes, children, love
Some of us lived lonely in far away homes
Some of us were fulfilled having found the love
The understanding we seeked, the minds akin to ours
Some of us…after a long time stopped searching having understood that in some lifetimes we were meant to be alone
Our soulmates parted from us, living another life…
May be in another world, probably another time zone…
We, the seekers, the thinkers, the rebels
We ache to get together for nowhere seems like home
We long for company of similar minds, sensibilities
We hurt, we bleed, we pain, we die…
But we live completely, every moment of our lives
Live the good and bad as same
Give all of ourselves to the world…
To nature… to art…
For there is no other way to live we know
We seek answers all the time
We question all the time
We are probably the only ones who know how deep pain carves its being into us
And how full happiness makes us feel…
We are comfortable with extremes
We are comfortable with tears, with abandonment, with aloneness…
We, the unknown ones
We, the misfits
We, the seekers, the thinkers, the rebels…
A forward from a very dear crazy friend whose belief in random-ness: the way of life keeps the glocal (global+local) sanity intact....
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
The Beautiful Meaning of Meaningless-ness
I had been leading a flustered life and it makes me sick.
Beyond a point I also know it is not possible to talk, I mean how much can one keep saying when life has been taken over by wrong kind of restrictions and keeps me quite confined where headspace s also most sought after (beyond several other things)
On such a day I went out to meet an old friend who made lotza sense and it was good to see him expressing himself full throttle.
He imbibed a lot of enthusiasm about carving the niche and having the patience to do the same. All charged I knew there was no dearth of opportunities but at the same time the truth of stagnation and having the worst challenge in life to keep thee patience.
Then I met another friend whose life is also fairly screwed, over apparent and not so apparent reasons and then I began my journey of demystifying the beauty of meaninglessness.
We had nothing to talk about because we did know exactly each others state of mind, at the same time when we got to talking about other people we figured they were also screwed at some level whereas the tragedy lies in the fact that those ignorant ones little realized their weaknesses (please pardon if I am sounding atrociously judgemental)!
And then we started smiling, often breaking into illogical bouts of laughter. It was like overstating the obvious. And after a point it slowly started sinking into me that though we did not have anything to talk about, neither did we feel the need nor the obligation. It was not even remotely uncomfortable; it was like two souls we knew about their endangered existence as a species and inspite of that they kept wandering into nameless vistas. As time passed by we realized the meaninglessness that had created a halo around us. Gradually quite unaware of what it was we began to enjoy it.
Time passed by and in a café in Park Street we sat over almost three hours trying to unravel the meaninglessness which un-knowingly we both took a lot of solace in. When we try to argue (atleast I do) that communication is the best source to avoid confusion but often I was tongue tied because there was nothing more to communicate except for meaninglessness. In some form or the other at the highest level of frustration I often exclaim how meaningless life is! But as per all the maestros are concerned say from one Melville and Hawthorne, Nietzsche and Marx or very dear friend Kafka they all saw meaninglessness coming into their lives. The existence of this phenomenon has been described by many poets, writers, philosophers but largely there has been a morbid tone to it. It is said that meaninglessness creeps in when life is confronted with the ultimate question of about its importance, about its existence and pondering over the question leads to a no answer situation, or maybe it is very arbid to believe. Life at that point seems very pointless, cruel and a little mad! But what we do not consciously realize is the fact that it is this state of madness at different level of consciousness that inspires us to create.
While I was doing something as vague as a desk research on meaninglessness I discovered that most definitions would want to look at meaningless as lose of aim, or goals in life-over work, family, love, marriage or religion or maybe several other things.
The even more interesting part is to look at the philosophy of meaninglessness; and the way it is explained in several of the philosophical narratives; A sneak peek to the same follows –
Relative Meaninglessness
1. Disappointed expectations;failure to fulfill accepted criteria.
2. Discrepancy between established criteria and observable actualities;
based on intellectual information;existentially disclosed.
3. Temporary—lasts only until the discrepancy is corrected
4. Limited to a specific realm of meaning.
5. We know what to change to bring meaning.
Existential Meaninglessness
1. Frameworks of meaning collapse; lack of ultimate purpose in life.
2. Uncaused; discovered as a fundamental condition-of-being;
3. Permanent—no matter what we change, meaninglessness continues.
4. Pervades every dimension of life.
5. Nothing we can do will make life ultimately meaningful.
But to me the beauty of meaninglessness lies in the fact that it does not follow it a protocol, it does not have boundaries, or it has no restrictions. I therefore join the bandwagon of Satre and Camus who urge us to embrace our meaninglessness. They claim that life is better because it is meaningless and absurd. If there is no given purpose to which we must conform to gain meaning, then we can create our own meanings in the midst of meaninglessness. By rebelling against our Predicament, we create our own Authenticity.
So here I am, cheering away to the new discovery I made that meaninglessness is a very meaningful phenomenon and the fact that it challenges the logic of meanings and even probably illusions makes it another experience that has its sweet charm!
Till I walk the lanes of finding solace in meaninglessness of being occupied and enjoy such innovative evenings, Trublu, cheers once again.
31st August-11th Sept 2007
Beyond a point I also know it is not possible to talk, I mean how much can one keep saying when life has been taken over by wrong kind of restrictions and keeps me quite confined where headspace s also most sought after (beyond several other things)
On such a day I went out to meet an old friend who made lotza sense and it was good to see him expressing himself full throttle.
He imbibed a lot of enthusiasm about carving the niche and having the patience to do the same. All charged I knew there was no dearth of opportunities but at the same time the truth of stagnation and having the worst challenge in life to keep thee patience.
Then I met another friend whose life is also fairly screwed, over apparent and not so apparent reasons and then I began my journey of demystifying the beauty of meaninglessness.
We had nothing to talk about because we did know exactly each others state of mind, at the same time when we got to talking about other people we figured they were also screwed at some level whereas the tragedy lies in the fact that those ignorant ones little realized their weaknesses (please pardon if I am sounding atrociously judgemental)!
And then we started smiling, often breaking into illogical bouts of laughter. It was like overstating the obvious. And after a point it slowly started sinking into me that though we did not have anything to talk about, neither did we feel the need nor the obligation. It was not even remotely uncomfortable; it was like two souls we knew about their endangered existence as a species and inspite of that they kept wandering into nameless vistas. As time passed by we realized the meaninglessness that had created a halo around us. Gradually quite unaware of what it was we began to enjoy it.
Time passed by and in a café in Park Street we sat over almost three hours trying to unravel the meaninglessness which un-knowingly we both took a lot of solace in. When we try to argue (atleast I do) that communication is the best source to avoid confusion but often I was tongue tied because there was nothing more to communicate except for meaninglessness. In some form or the other at the highest level of frustration I often exclaim how meaningless life is! But as per all the maestros are concerned say from one Melville and Hawthorne, Nietzsche and Marx or very dear friend Kafka they all saw meaninglessness coming into their lives. The existence of this phenomenon has been described by many poets, writers, philosophers but largely there has been a morbid tone to it. It is said that meaninglessness creeps in when life is confronted with the ultimate question of about its importance, about its existence and pondering over the question leads to a no answer situation, or maybe it is very arbid to believe. Life at that point seems very pointless, cruel and a little mad! But what we do not consciously realize is the fact that it is this state of madness at different level of consciousness that inspires us to create.
While I was doing something as vague as a desk research on meaninglessness I discovered that most definitions would want to look at meaningless as lose of aim, or goals in life-over work, family, love, marriage or religion or maybe several other things.
The even more interesting part is to look at the philosophy of meaninglessness; and the way it is explained in several of the philosophical narratives; A sneak peek to the same follows –
Relative Meaninglessness
1. Disappointed expectations;failure to fulfill accepted criteria.
2. Discrepancy between established criteria and observable actualities;
based on intellectual information;existentially disclosed.
3. Temporary—lasts only until the discrepancy is corrected
4. Limited to a specific realm of meaning.
5. We know what to change to bring meaning.
Existential Meaninglessness
1. Frameworks of meaning collapse; lack of ultimate purpose in life.
2. Uncaused; discovered as a fundamental condition-of-being;
3. Permanent—no matter what we change, meaninglessness continues.
4. Pervades every dimension of life.
5. Nothing we can do will make life ultimately meaningful.
But to me the beauty of meaninglessness lies in the fact that it does not follow it a protocol, it does not have boundaries, or it has no restrictions. I therefore join the bandwagon of Satre and Camus who urge us to embrace our meaninglessness. They claim that life is better because it is meaningless and absurd. If there is no given purpose to which we must conform to gain meaning, then we can create our own meanings in the midst of meaninglessness. By rebelling against our Predicament, we create our own Authenticity.
So here I am, cheering away to the new discovery I made that meaninglessness is a very meaningful phenomenon and the fact that it challenges the logic of meanings and even probably illusions makes it another experience that has its sweet charm!
Till I walk the lanes of finding solace in meaninglessness of being occupied and enjoy such innovative evenings, Trublu, cheers once again.
31st August-11th Sept 2007
Thursday, August 02, 2007
August Axis
At the onset it seems I have lived a decade, in the past two months however I have cribbed and complained, I have definitely got to understand myself better.
I am an emotional upheaval, a lot of people would say-tell me something new, and a lot of them would say-when were u emotional?
In both the cases I would not know how to react.
I remember the time when I was obsessed with Dumdhead, the day he left campus and I knew he is gone,that rage/let down/hurt still shakes me up(would remember Soulmate drilling sense and Quirk making ways to make me look at reality)and then when after a month long journey from heaven I was getting back to reality I met him again,only with the promise that we will never be mean to each other. And there after hundreds of times we have been mean, its only that his convictions have strengthened me.He had blatantly said he does not befriend the moon anymore,coz that would not stay on, n I also need to understand that as an emotional wreck!
Never paid heed to it and landed up in time and again in the vicious circle of being "used" because I was transparent, I was straight-forward, I was dumb. When I left school there was a series from friends to then turned foes;I decided I will play smarter when I get to college. Kept it up for a while and then the reins loosened and I was again taken for a ride,in between I had worked,trekked,fallen in and out of love, and therefore met more people,only to realize I am not as smart, I still fell for the pretense, for the feel good factor at the particular point of time, for I trusted.
College was over and I moved outa home.....fortunately this time I was careful but still closer proximities made use of me,very unexpectedly;I was quite shattered and felt disgusted with myself.....it made no f****ing sense to me,ever!Even till date,it does not. Midst that, old ties were still playing beach volley with my softly nurtured emotions of companionship/friendship/partnership and as I look back I kept falling,bleeding,nursing and again running after tender emotions. Its now that I realize it was like a mirage that kept attracting me to the illusion of being there for individuals whom I loved, at different points and different shades and somehow the intense the emotions and the complex the shades, the deeper the wound,the longer the pain. But call me anything but stubborn.....I refuse to learn from mistakes and take pride in being a dud!
Call it creative pursuits of understanding people or seeking inspiration from numb wounds,I was still at it till today. I make myself "at ur service" and forget about getting paid,I dont even feature on the payroll.Somebody who I know for a year actually has so much of RAM-page space that I drain myself and I am preached that I should get out of my draining habits!
And therefore I begin my August Axis! Where I refuse to be a victim of my own inane attraction to goodness, let the dark musing unleash for once I would pray they stay on,forever.I will try to dissociate with people at the valves pumping but keep it task oriented.
But on the other hand let me also not forget because of the same faith I have a bunch of glow-worms in life that warms up the nest with the glow of a connection that makes me run out of words,I am glad to have them in here. From the deepest desire to darkest potholes they have known all shades;they have given me the strength to liften me up when I cannot reach,so will never let the sun go down on truest and purest of emotions, I can only keep my guards on and even when theres beach tournaments I should remember my duty of a lifeguard for I will have to reach the surrealist goal of procreation.
Afterall - Dada n me has been seen as iconoclastic and confrontational...what say?
I am an emotional upheaval, a lot of people would say-tell me something new, and a lot of them would say-when were u emotional?
In both the cases I would not know how to react.
I remember the time when I was obsessed with Dumdhead, the day he left campus and I knew he is gone,that rage/let down/hurt still shakes me up(would remember Soulmate drilling sense and Quirk making ways to make me look at reality)and then when after a month long journey from heaven I was getting back to reality I met him again,only with the promise that we will never be mean to each other. And there after hundreds of times we have been mean, its only that his convictions have strengthened me.He had blatantly said he does not befriend the moon anymore,coz that would not stay on, n I also need to understand that as an emotional wreck!
Never paid heed to it and landed up in time and again in the vicious circle of being "used" because I was transparent, I was straight-forward, I was dumb. When I left school there was a series from friends to then turned foes;I decided I will play smarter when I get to college. Kept it up for a while and then the reins loosened and I was again taken for a ride,in between I had worked,trekked,fallen in and out of love, and therefore met more people,only to realize I am not as smart, I still fell for the pretense, for the feel good factor at the particular point of time, for I trusted.
College was over and I moved outa home.....fortunately this time I was careful but still closer proximities made use of me,very unexpectedly;I was quite shattered and felt disgusted with myself.....it made no f****ing sense to me,ever!Even till date,it does not. Midst that, old ties were still playing beach volley with my softly nurtured emotions of companionship/friendship/partnership and as I look back I kept falling,bleeding,nursing and again running after tender emotions. Its now that I realize it was like a mirage that kept attracting me to the illusion of being there for individuals whom I loved, at different points and different shades and somehow the intense the emotions and the complex the shades, the deeper the wound,the longer the pain. But call me anything but stubborn.....I refuse to learn from mistakes and take pride in being a dud!
Call it creative pursuits of understanding people or seeking inspiration from numb wounds,I was still at it till today. I make myself "at ur service" and forget about getting paid,I dont even feature on the payroll.Somebody who I know for a year actually has so much of RAM-page space that I drain myself and I am preached that I should get out of my draining habits!
And therefore I begin my August Axis! Where I refuse to be a victim of my own inane attraction to goodness, let the dark musing unleash for once I would pray they stay on,forever.I will try to dissociate with people at the valves pumping but keep it task oriented.
But on the other hand let me also not forget because of the same faith I have a bunch of glow-worms in life that warms up the nest with the glow of a connection that makes me run out of words,I am glad to have them in here. From the deepest desire to darkest potholes they have known all shades;they have given me the strength to liften me up when I cannot reach,so will never let the sun go down on truest and purest of emotions, I can only keep my guards on and even when theres beach tournaments I should remember my duty of a lifeguard for I will have to reach the surrealist goal of procreation.
Afterall - Dada n me has been seen as iconoclastic and confrontational...what say?
Sunday, October 22, 2006
a few Tears of Laughter
One Friday night that was and that will live forever and probably will never happen again. I woke up to all new me. As if the existence was manifested that metamorphosed my senses and redefined my being. I had experienced it once more but the senses were more matured and aesthetic. It lead on to believe in the story of never dying love stories.....and the bliss of sense of belonging. At one level as I celebrate the integration of souls and realism s on the other hand I am also scared to be broken.Somehow I feel liberation in shackles.....
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
SeNse and SeNsiBilities
Another note on maybe nothing and yet a lot of things. The other day at Ambedkar colony in Nizamabad I just chanced upon this girl, hardly 15 years old. I have always read about the blooming sexual sensations in a woman or a girl when she is turning into a woman. Personally, never have actually experienced it, considering the ‘Boys Don’t cry’ syndrome ruled my life.
Coming back to this girl, in her school uniform, wet unkempt hair she walks out of the lane, goes up the steps. The newly discovered rhythm in her body is very prominent. The language was subtle yet spoke volumes as she kept talking to someone.
Conscious of being watched she climbed down the stairs with accentuated movements. Her pushing forth of almost non-existent breasts twirled heads, the swinging of the hips made heads turn. The prominence of the curves over-ruled the senses of the passer-bys. I could not blame the curious eyes of the adolescent boys, I was myself attracted enough to get to writing all of this. And then she vanished altogether in the unknown lanes from where she appeared.
After a long time I realized that probably it takes lot more for a man to resist a woman. To my surprise I felt a little weird of having a woman’s body,and remembered all the times when I negated all the comments about being ‘sexy’ or ‘Hot’. It is an interesting insight can think or do think like a man and have come to know the exploits that a woman entails-even unconsciously.And probably to end with Quirk’s comments of ‘irresistible’ holds ground!
The bearings of being Bi-curious holds ground!
Nizamabad,Andhra
19TH Sept 2006
21.00 hrs.
Coming back to this girl, in her school uniform, wet unkempt hair she walks out of the lane, goes up the steps. The newly discovered rhythm in her body is very prominent. The language was subtle yet spoke volumes as she kept talking to someone.
Conscious of being watched she climbed down the stairs with accentuated movements. Her pushing forth of almost non-existent breasts twirled heads, the swinging of the hips made heads turn. The prominence of the curves over-ruled the senses of the passer-bys. I could not blame the curious eyes of the adolescent boys, I was myself attracted enough to get to writing all of this. And then she vanished altogether in the unknown lanes from where she appeared.
After a long time I realized that probably it takes lot more for a man to resist a woman. To my surprise I felt a little weird of having a woman’s body,and remembered all the times when I negated all the comments about being ‘sexy’ or ‘Hot’. It is an interesting insight can think or do think like a man and have come to know the exploits that a woman entails-even unconsciously.And probably to end with Quirk’s comments of ‘irresistible’ holds ground!
The bearings of being Bi-curious holds ground!
Nizamabad,Andhra
19TH Sept 2006
21.00 hrs.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Coming BACK to LifE!
Revival is something I have always enjoyed…..the end of one day and the night with the process of promise of the dawn….a new beginning.
Life has changed a lot….Kashmir made me grow up after comfortably numb became too uncomfortable for comfort. The place was just ecstatic….like I felt like the boundless boundaries that one could fly over..
About the mundane realities….got myself to earn bread and butter and then started missing the passion and dreams that I was to chase…..and now trying to recreate them and almost ready to take off.
Each frame is embedded in the mind….waiting the world to show the picture….of life that’s best described as random strokes on the bluegrey sky.
People who mean a lot are nearby yet far away and some has lost themselves in translation!
And with this grandeur of celebration where everyday is unfolding a new set of realities….I arise, awake, and shine…….
Life has changed a lot….Kashmir made me grow up after comfortably numb became too uncomfortable for comfort. The place was just ecstatic….like I felt like the boundless boundaries that one could fly over..
About the mundane realities….got myself to earn bread and butter and then started missing the passion and dreams that I was to chase…..and now trying to recreate them and almost ready to take off.
Each frame is embedded in the mind….waiting the world to show the picture….of life that’s best described as random strokes on the bluegrey sky.
People who mean a lot are nearby yet far away and some has lost themselves in translation!
And with this grandeur of celebration where everyday is unfolding a new set of realities….I arise, awake, and shine…….
Sept 7th 2006
01:45 hrs
THTS ANOTHER STRANGER WHO SHARED GLANCES……will he walk away…or will he stay?
U suddenly find in a chilly night in a Mumbai pub one guy sipping on to wine…all to himself, absorbing moments with random thoughts crossing his head…he shared a special secret with another stranger. It was strange and special how just he made sense midst all the newness around. And before making way for me to vanish in the lonely streets of the cosmopolitan city he jus put a word of concern that was touching. Time passed by and met the stranger midst all the madness that life could offer. Often meeting a stranger is liberating, the anonymity is too dear to let go. And then there were sparks, of life, of randomness and eccentricity. In the wilderness of the staring truth of my country he made the best of luxury. And when I returned to begin from no man’s land meeting the different yet the known him was a pleasure! I probably was done with exploring the various interesting men in life…..no on second thoughts the random-ness in the grounded persona made it so attractive….have walked a considerable way….don’t know till when will I do that but ya it is a very unique experience of being around this quirk feeling of being loved….for being cared for who u are and who u want to be!
May 29th 2006
02:45 hrs.
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