Away

Away from you
i have nothing to write,
nothign to feel, no rhyme,
No urge for purpose or prose,
no book to close.
Away from the place i belong,
No urge to read,
no words to withold.
Not really anything to touch and feel at all.

I am the bark,
the brown, hard,
thick eyesore, of the
luscious green tree that you pluck the fruit of.
quick.

Silt

If ever you seek me out,
remember to shout,
clairvoyance is not my strength
my throat is sore,
but i dont want this to end
not just yet
so my friend
remember to bellow
my name that is etched
on the golden silt that remains
in a morsel of time, savored.

Missing Notice

Missing music
of innocent,
young, hopeful
juvenile love.
If found
please contact
the undersigned.
With Love
The Undersigned

The image is a poster by an artist called Peter Snelling

Air

Air,
Please dont start a conversation
it might go on forever
I dont have time for small talk
Theres a lot more that i need
to clench in my fist,
on my last night

The B hostel staircase, waiting for the night to start,
8:45 pm

the city of dust

i lived in the city of dust,
for a few and a half years,

i captured every moment
lest it may gather dust.

blink blink blush

The shining

Here, now, this, today
incomplete in every way;
This endless chatter, drowning
the endless scream snubbed

Here, now, gone away
flown away in orbs of mindless laughter;
But a few left tinkling,
between my fingers
shining moments of glee.

- in the night mess, Nid, 23 January 1am

The Wind

The first bite

I like the glory that pioneering brings
the exhilaration of doing something for the first time,
being the first one to do it, that's something else
The glory but is only dragged in with effort
laziness is my travelling companion, shrug it off,
its stuck in my person,
but so is the want to do something with my life,
and not let it pass by everyday....
what remains to be seen is which aspect is more overpowering,
that itself will determine the entire outcome of my being,
and my many many decisions, besides of course, chance.

prediposters

For me done by Vaidehi


For Vaidehi done by me and Anita

and instructions for dancing

Frustrating dozens

Its not always that you can be ingenious, only rarely....

That perfect idea, is mostly elusive,

what about those days when it just doesn't happen?

do you sit around looking at the cursor?

keep thinking, even if it has been a long long while?

when do you move on, to more things to think about?

Can you ever satisfy everyone?

is it possible to have an idea, just perfect, every time, within the time limit?

only rarely, does the chord strike,

what makes those days that is happens so much more precious,

are these days when it doesn't.

these ones that come by the dozen,

followed by another couple dozens.

Go Ahead, i say,

Stop, i say,

think, go.

Silenced by sleep

A smiling horizon, orange beams,
silenced by sleep,
the dark likes sleep,
to gnaw its way through thought,
glittery stars, midnight blue,
silenced by sleep.
The dreams, fragments of those sections
which have yet remained unlived
expanding in the ever spreading darkness,
the darkness within me
which refuses to
be silenced by sleep.

Lamenting haste

Will this lament last,
this trajectory of inconceivable misunderstanding,
if only i hadn't kept a record, of hurts, and more hurts,
this etching seeps down further every day,
if only acceptance wasn't so difficult to accept,
this road to further days,
leaves everything behind,
but footprints
still carry on,
beside me, invisible marks
in the wet freshly setting concrete
tar.

The last week

The last one week has been probably one on the most eventful ones in my life, all the last four years of my design education, has been put up for public scrutiny. as a stoke of serendipity the person who was supposed to put up their work backed out, and, and well it was now or never,
so the next day, i was up at the display area, all ready to put it up, little did i realise, what all was to come in the next days, at first it seem so easy, you pick your work, and put it up.
but its unbelievable how many difficulties can come in the span of these two sentences.

So the whole process started, with me walking all over my bloated ego and asking people to come help me, my ego was ripping apart to tell you the truth....
a dear friend then took pity, left all his work, and helped me with the first step...
sorting what to put up from four years of work....
and slowly people started dropping in, to help,
absolutely nothing to gain out of it, only to lose time,
and the past four years kept flashing by in milliseconds,
leaving me ask myself what good deeds i must have done in my past lives to deserve such selfless unconditional friendships,
some unexpected, came to lend their help, at least offered to...
some expected didn't even bother to show their faces,
everything kind of balances itself in the end.
i made a friend, someone i couldn't have imagined being able to tolerate,
and surprisingly, I'm becoming increasingly fond of this person, much to my dismay.

Bouts of laughter and depression are a commonality to the pre diploma syndrome,
and suddenly in the middle of it all,
i stand up and start thinking about how futile this all is, and im told to shut up and get back to work, i have slogged my ass off, so much that its been the third day since its up and the pain in legs is still not letting me walk properly.
but then again i had something to prove to myself.

Worst ever boards, crumpled paper, screwed display, lovely headers, and ever lovelier friends.
all is up, and well, and i am going mad with laughter. ( a pre requisite to a bad day ahead, more on this in another post )

I leave this place in a few days, after the most rewarding four years of my life
and all i wish is, i could split in parts, and leave myself in places i long to be in..... my past, present and future, be with all the people i want to be with at the same time, without having to compromise because of geography or non physical distances.
A whirlpool of emotions, where people have emerged out of beyond oblivion to help me, to make me feel better when i needed it most, like angels, my guardian angels.
if this isn't life.... what is....

heads or tails?

Heads or tails,
nuts or nails??

Decision making is such a bore,
a big load of goat manure....
thats wot it is you know,
a big big load of goat manure.
and if you try to overcome,
me truly says, theres nowhere to run,
so this is what you have to make sure,
put truck loads of sugar in the manure....

and down it with the best of faith,
panic, derange, and leave it to fate.

songs that capture time

songs that capture time,
that capture the space, the smells, the exhilarations and the fears....
the trumpet, the baritone, the pulsing nerves,

bheegi hui koi shaam ho,
mehka hua koi naam ho,
bin baat hi hoti hai neelam wo,
mashhoor hai phir bhi badnaam wo,
jaane.... hua hai aaj kya hame, na hum jaane,
kyun humko yaad aae wo,

ab is tarah main usko sochta hun,
guzre hue wo pal rokta hun
wo pal kahi kho gae the jo apne,
aur saath bhi ho gae the jo sapne
jaane.....

wo roshni wo aag hai
ya phir koi charg haijise dheere dheere hai jalna
jise is tarah hi hai chlnaisi mod pe wo aaj bhi kandeel si chalegi,
shehar ki dhoop si bewaqt hi dhalegi....
jaane....
hua hai aaj kya hame nahum jaane....


-a song from chameli and a hot cup of badly made coffee, a chocolate brown couch, and the drone of the heater..... and a scared silent night....
trumpet!!!!!!
im in love..... yet again.....

a silent humming

little mercies of life,
on a lonely walk in the night,
i hear something on the road,
faint, barely audible over the trucks roaring by,
dark streets,
way past bedtime,
a cursory look,
up on a cozily lit balcony,
a swing, the silent noise of the creek punctuating,
the humming,
the warmth of the lullaby of this
mother, with her world wrapped in arms,
singing,
about fairylands, and prince charming,
about sleep walking in wearing anklets,
this selfless warmth,
hardly what i was expecting, looking for
yet exactly what i want.
a yellow light, a warm room,
and the vast expanse of love.

thedaybefore

toomanythoughtstoolittetimetomeetbeforeileavetotellthathowmuchitkillsmetotellyouabouttheimaginatioofthetimewhenihavetomissyouwhenallofuswillnotbearoundeachothereverydaywhenthepostsherewillnotbeaboutyouorthisplaceorthisroomthethoughtsdontseemtostopforonceicantunderstnadwhatsgoingoninmyheadcauseittoooverwhelmingforonceidontwanttorevelinthisstateforonceiwantogiveupextencialismandescapetoatimewhereallwillbefineagainfineandfamiliarwhereyouwillbearoundeverydayformetoholdtotalktoknowtokeepsothisisitithasjustsunkinthatthisreallyisittheendofsomethingineverthoughtwillfinishbuthereitisstaringtmyfaceallpackedupandrolledmylifedividedintwowhereiwantobeandwhereihavetobeandthisihowthissitutionleavesmefeeling....

forfeit.

no can do,
not another year,
not another record,

not where i want to be,
not what i am,
not how i want to either,

no can do misissy,
this is not my game anymore,
i quit, i quit, i quit,
not what i want forever,
not how i want to live either.

i quit, for i, now, thus
forfeit.

oh, clever words, on new year's eve

Oh, how clever words are, swift to your tongue,
swift as an arrow,
clever as clever can be.

Oh, how numb sensations are, passing by your heart,
numb as thoughtless can be,
passing by as they have nothing to do with you.

Oh, how joyous is this meeting, on the new year's eve
joyous as joyous can be,
a perfect new year,

ruthless and time consuming as this wish can be.