Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Fit right in

It's funny how humans can wrap their mind around things and fit them into their version of reality.
~Rick Riordan

I don't know if I'd fit right in
there's this spot that's missing
I look out to see, people hanging out in their cliques
talking in codes, walking in a pattern round and round
they keep on doing that, and I feel like

I'm just an alien, peeking in form outside
trying to make out the contours, on a recon mission
checking whether I'd fit right in
we exist, all together on same plane
but, there's this rift that separates us

I keep going back to thinking "what's missing"
I guess we'll never know
in the midst of webs of complexity from
which human mind is made
it's like you take a shovel to dig deep
but how deep is the fact that's missing

That conscious thought of enormous void
you feel, you tried hard to fill
so many times with so many tools
from where it came and how far it goes
you seem them busy in their work
while you are lost in your own
and before you can realize eons are gone

Rift is still there
and I guess it'll always be
it's better if you fit right in
and it'll do fine if you don't
as people are those jigsaw puzzles
where some pieces are always missing

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

As you are now so once were we

We are all surrounded by a particular bunch of people who care about us more than anyone possibly can . Family, relatives, teachers, oldsters and several nameless faces. One thing that they  constantly  try is to relate and connect to you and your alleged na├»ve life. They constantly feed you with their own specialized and exclusive opinions. As they are physically and intellectually beyond you sometimes things may go little awry. They cite examples, narratives, stories and target you with rich and varied armada of  experience they have gathered in time gone by. There's nothing wrong in it... I think it's the best thing that can happen to a person. But this road of mutual sharing and understanding  is very tricky in nature and  full of twists, turns and bumps and pits.. There are times when we find ourselves in opposite camps.
"Family's incessant love and likeness has often a deep sadness in it. Nature, that great tragic dramatist, knits us together by bone and muscle, and divides us by the subtler web of our brains; blends yearning and repulsion; and ties us by our heart-strings to the beings that jar us at every movement."
~George Eliot

You speak and listen
about everything, everyday
incessant loops of rebukes
approvals, we try and connect
in all possible ways
we never say or talk about

the slight diversion
in your version and mine
that palpable variance
which breathes along semantics
and deductions we apply

adduce evidences we witness
but compensate for in due time
like those barely visible
overlapped layers of rainbows
your persuasion runs over mine

leavings its imprints
somewhere along the fringes
but transmuting in to mine
times may arise
when we stand across
I might do something you oppose

methods might differ
so are some choices I may make
you schooled me well
made me a cultured youth
there are nibbles of you
in every step I take

You ain't wrong, neither am I
issues we jiggle and pry
you say,
you are now once were we                                                  
I say, just for a change
don't think much and don't worry.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Why I write

Sometimes you want to write. Write down every single thing that flips  across your temporal space. Whether its gibberish or the most intense feelings of your heart, you just want to type it all down. Rip out every single thought out of your skull and implant it somewhere else. Just get rid of the clutter that keep playing tricks on you.
"All writers are vain, selfish, and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives there lies a mystery. Writing is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand. For all one knows that demon is simply the same instinct that makes a baby squall for attention. And yet it is also true that one can write nothing readable unless one constantly struggles to efface one's own personality."
~ George Orwell
It's just there
simmering down, somewhere in the
attic of this cluttered brain matter
it varies in forms and frames
like those splashy colors that are dear to me

I like to change and try them all
some I dislike, sore to my eyes
no reasons I can tell
why I despise them, I just do
don't even try

People palavering me
and clinging that drives me
deep personal possessions
like some good music
renders me blind

Sun that's new everyday
so are the shadows it designs
so often I want to paint it all
all the designs and ideas behind
I want to write it all

If not write then
shout it out loud
beginning to end
I just want to put it in rhyme
but, it doesn't

It remains there
hiding out, may be waiting
for the right time and place
or maybe there isn't a space
where I can write it down.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

What Lies Ahead

A fact about adult life is that you see the very things you'll never adapt to coming toward you on the horizon. You see them as the problems they are, you worry like hell about them, you make provisions, take precautions, fashion adjustments; you tell yourself you'll have to change your way of doing things. Only you don't. You can't. Somehow it's already too late or is it - Richard Ford
The uncertainty that future holds has a way of creeping up on you. A palpable but invisible carapace it creates is deluging at times. Everyone keep cueing you about that unpredictable future and the cards that it may unfold and how you should be prepared to change and accommodate. The sudden showers of suggestions, advises and facts are presented in such a realistic way that you just end up confusing about everything that's around. Only the time will tell what lies ahead then why so much hustle, preps and apprehensions about something which is so far off..

They say    
it's going to be fine
nothing to worry
oh dear,
still there's time.

Quietly they whisper
something else too
beware time slides fast
puzzled will be the times
tricky to construe.

Concentric miasmas
leaves me exposed
my dear repose
where have you gone ?
where are those
simple promises
I can rely on ?

Despite that, keep going
and I always will
let life unfold
what it veritably holds
ahead lies the tracks
of booby traps.

traps are real 
neither win nor loose
matter of choice 
and what you choose
it can only show me
what lies at the horizon
what lies ahead
reach there and move on 
Sometimes not knowing what lies ahead works out better, better than anything we can possibly conceive of..

Saturday, March 2, 2013

A Friend and A Real Friend

"The difference between a friend and a real friend is that you and the real friend come from the same territory, of the same place deep inside you, and that means you see the world in the same kind of way. You know each other even before you do."
 ~Laura Pritchett

Real friends... there's no way of defining them. These are those implicit relations that grows day after day. They form a very crucial part of your support system. They are the very pebbles &stones of your bedrock. You have each other's back every time you feel like having one. Many times you agree by dissenting. You never actually fight but, keep pretending. You share nearly everything but manage to have that small creased space which is vital..

Biggest blessing 
and a gift you are.
No gripes
I ask no more
you're that sand 
which came accidentally
on my shore.

We bonded 
took our time
then you stayed forever
we became partners
in everyday crimes
soon you were
an integral part
of my shell and core.
You change places
but, you ain't changing  shores
not anymore.

One another's balefulness
freaky felicitousness,
mental myopia
and farsightedness...
we agnize  each other's bone
its fractures, flaws
and burthen it can carry on.

Pint-sized life
that I've lived
not many, but I'm blest
with few, and it's fun
I swear to you.
To those few
I holler my thanks
you're the brightest speck
of sand, that rests
on my river bank
Shiniest of all
my dazzling stars **
In this era of global village there's no dearth of friends. But, when  a real friend enters in the equation the whole mechanism changes..


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...