January 04, 2008

FAITH ------(bad poetry)

Take my sunshine away
Take my rain away
Take my sleep away
I’ll still hold onto my dreams

Take my hope away
Take my dreams away
Take every inch of a smile away
I’d still fight through

Take the angels away
Take the dew kissed flowers away
Take my faith away
Id still says my prayers

Take all I own
Take my soul
Take my strength
To you still I shall belong

May 03, 2007

Trance

Choked souls,
Charred sun…
Burning clouds,
Bleeding hearts,
Withering hopes…
Fading smiles,
Frozen tears,
Life begun…
Murderous silence,
Echoing words,
Dark horizons,
Frightened dawns,
Yet I crawl…
To reach life,
Somewhere unknown,
Where the sun shines…
Where the rain don’t hurt,
So long my love…
Till then i lie in my trance!!!

April 02, 2007

Woman

To be a woman,
To walk alone.
To have a tear in the eye,
To smile it off,
For the world aside.
To fall in love,
To take the pain.
Not utter a cry,
And carry on…
To believe you’re mine,
To dream on.
To hear you think,
To taste your tears,
To bear your child,
To walk by our side.
To stay so silent,
To await the dawn,
To be so patient,
Like Virgin Mary,
And be so righteous,
Like Jesus, her child.
It takes a woman,
An angel …
Am i?

March 08, 2007

Women's Day....yet again

It’s been one year almost(refer to the same blog-08.03.2006.....Well the day started as usual …the sms sign blinking on my cell phone screen…most of my female friends had sent me the usual “Happy Women’s Day” sms’es.It’s funny how we women revel in our own happiness,None of the men folk had bothered to send in a message; but what’s new with that!

This year my new boss did not give me any rose…like the old one did last time. I liked that boss. He’s retired now........called him and told him –I MISS YOU, SIR.I honestly did.

The newspapers, radio, TV flashed the usual women’s day commercialization shit…. Discounts, debates, game shows etc etc etc.Some poor girl was getting raped at that point of time in our country and some family was crying over getting less dowry or probably thinking of burning up someone’s else's daughter. Someone somewhere would be grieving over having a girl child and some poor housewife would be getting beaten up somewhere…. I Know I can spoil the party mood, but reality stares hard at my face. Im glad Manu Sharma’s been convicted…that’s one achievement our country has made since the last year’s “Happy Women’s Day”. Brings a smile on my face…

Came home after the day’s work, errands to run, buy vegetables, Get the iron fixed, Phone bill to pay, pick up laundry etc, etc. (BEING THE SUPERWOMAN) Turn on the TV and the same shit continued…. Happy Women’s Day. They celebrate the ultra modern woman who rocks the office as well as she rocks her man in bed. Who cooks, cleans, washes, earns, whizzes through the corporate world, dresses only Allen Solly or Wills Lifestyle clothing to work, charms the men at office, makes the figures rocket high….

And I thought….

Is this what you wanna be….? Do you wanna be this woman –the world of today worships? And without a second thought……..the answer is NO………..

CONTD...

October 15, 2006

FALLING INTO DIMENSION Z

There are old winds I still do not understand, though I have been riding forever it seems, along the curl of their spines. I move in dimension Z; the world goes by somewhere else in another slice of things, parallel to me. As if, hands in my pockets and bending a little forward, I see it through a department store window, looking inward.

In Dimension Z, there are strange moments. Coming along a long, rainy, New Mexico curve west of Magdelena, the highway turns to a footpath and the path to an animal trail. A pass of my wiper baldes, and the trail becomes a forest place where nothing has ever gone. Again the wiper blades and again, something further back. Great ice this time. I am moving through short grass, in furs, with matted hair and spear, thin and as hard as the ice itself, all muscle and implacable cunning. Past the ice further back along the measure of things, deep salt water in which i swim, gilled and scaled. I cannot see more than that, except, beyond plankton is the digit zero.

Euclid was not always right. He assumed paralellness, in consantancy, right to the end of things, but a non-Euclidean way of being is also possible, where the lines come together, far out there. A vanishing point. The illusion of convergence.

Yet I know it's more than illusion. Sometimes a coming together is possible, a spilling of one reality into another. A kind of soft enlacing. Not prim intersections loomed in a world of precision, no sound of the shuttle. Just... well...breathing. Yes, thats the sound of it, maybe the feel of it too. Breathing.

And I move slowly over this other reality, and beside it and underneath and around it, always with strength, always with power, yet always with a giving of myself to it. And the other senses this, coming forward with its own power, giving itself to me, in turn.

Somewhere, inside of the breathing, music sounds, and the curious spiral dance begins then, with a meter all its own that tempers the ice-man with the spear and matted hair. All slowly--rolling and turning in adagio, in adagio always-- ice-man falls... from Dimension Z...and into her.



-Robert Kincaid
(The Bridges of Madison county)

October 06, 2006

"Love means never having to say you are sorry"

- Oliver to Jenny when she's dying (Love Story-Eric Segal)

Tiny Dancer -Sir Elton John

Someone sent me this song ...and im in love with the lyrics

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand

Jesus freaks out in the street
Handing tickets out for God
Turning back she just laughs
The boulevard is not that bad

Piano man he makes his stand
In the auditorium
Looking on she sings the songs
The words she knows, the tune she hums

But oh how it feels so real
Lying here with no one near
Only you and you can't hear me
When I say softly, slowly

Hold me closer tiny dancer
Count the headlights on the highway
Lay me down in sheets of linen
you had a busy day today

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand.

October 05, 2006

be aabroo (Dishonored)

Itne beaabroo hokar nikle tere dar se hum,
Raat ki chandni mein bhi aa rahi thi sharam ,

Naa kaan mein jhumkaa,
Naa mathe par bindi,
Payal bhi paav mein nahi chanak rahi.

Jaane konsa junoon,
Kaisi yeh dhun hai,
Na mazhab yaad hai,
Naa karam hai.

Tumhe hamari mohabbat ka hai vaasta,
Subah hone par le aana hamara dupatta,
Phir teri mehfil is kadar sajayenge,
Taare, phool, jugnu sab muskurayenge.

Itni si hai khuda se justjoo...
Karlo kabool hamari arzoo,
Aaftab ki aag mein hum bhi naheyenge,
Choti si apni ek jannat baneyenge.



(thats the first time ive tried my hand at hindi-urdu stuff)

September 24, 2006

Something i'd like to share

Maya Angelou said this:
(I thot it was worth a read)

"I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow."

"I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights."

"I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're far from you."

"I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as "making a life."

"I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance."

"I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision."

"I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one."

"I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone.People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back."

"I've learned that I still have a lot to learn."

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."


I hope these lines make a difference some way or the other if you've read them...They did to me!

A Burnt Rose

A burnt rose.
It’s lost its color,
The crimson that shone,
Is now long gone,
Thorns remain.

You burnt a rose,
It was pretty once.
Now it’s charred,
And cant be bought back.

Innocently it once adorned,
The garland of love.
You burnt it,
Amidst the cries,
Lies it's burnt soul.

September 13, 2006

Quote of the Day

Love is like pi - natural, irrational, and VERY important."

-Lisa Hoffmann

August 07, 2006

the Horizon

The horizon lights up,
I see you smile.
Life lights a mile.
Standing on the edge,
Of reason and time,
I say lemme be.
Baby …go away!

My mind races,
Grips in sweat,
The horizon I see,
The sun at dawn!
Could be cold darkness,
Tears and rain,
I swell in pain!
Lemme be,
Baby…go away!

Learn to live
And to die
Every moment,
A game.
I win, I lose,
Lose my mind!
As I ponder!
I see your face,
The horizon lights up,
As I see you smile!
Baby...never ever go away!

April 25, 2006

To You.

You’re so cold,
It cuts like ice.
I sell my soul,
For a petty price.
Try my best,
To make u see,
That I could be,
The one to set you free.
Im the fresh air,
You need to breathe.
But it’s sad,
Cos you cannot feel,
You’r already dead,
And comfortably asleep.
My fate, it seems,
Is already sealed.
A mirage,an illusion,
That's what it is.

Wake up, honey!
Before it’s too late.
Or you’ll be too lonely,
It’s an endless wait.
The sky calls now,
We need to fly.
Hear now,
Hear for sure,
The rain, my dear,
Is no longer gonna pour,
Im Sunshine here…
Knocking at your door.

A Broken Man

As I drove by the highway
I met a man,
Sitting by the roadside,
Oblivious of the passing trucks,
Like a baby in the cradle he lay.

He waived his hand,
And stopped me by
Made me sit,
Offered me some rye.

He dint remember his name,
Or where he belonged,
He looked broken, with no care,
Though he did have a story to share.

He’d been at the bar,
the night before,
With friends and brothers,
And a girl he thought he loved.

He couldn’t remember
What exactly had ensued,
but he was told...
He’d sold his soul,
or maybe deserted,
by the lover unknown.

He dint remember,
Cos he was too drunk,
All he knew,
Was the lonely day had begun.

Cos after the night
There were no friends, no brothers,
His sweetness, he couldn’t find.
Left, were he and the rye.

He said he couldn’t love now,
Cos he would get drunk again.
But now he was addicted,
And almost dead.

I held his hand
Till he cried,
Sat with him
Drank his rye.

I told him it was a good life,
The day had just begun.
On a day like this,
I could drive him by
And take him for a drink.
He said no…
Wanted me to go…

I kissed him luck,
And bade him goodbye.
Prayed for him
and drove by...
All i know is,
it was a broken man,
I’d met by the roadside.

April 24, 2006

Uggghhhhh!!!!

I hate my life today...

Firstly,its Monday afternoon...long way to go for the weekend.

Secondly,i missed my salsa class yesterday because of work.They make me slog my ass even on Sundays.And i dont get a subsitute day-off or get paid anything extra.

Thirdly,i have a horrible drippy nose,the summer flu kind.I HATE drippy noses...you know the types when one doesn't realise when the liquids drips out of your nose but its like an endless ,everflowing situation...and you run out of tissue paper...and your head hurts ...and you look like rudolph, the reindeer...and you have an important client meeting ...and no one understands...cos its just a COLD.

Basically im in a cribby-crabby mood....

April 20, 2006

Baby, As I dance...

(To me…to a Ballerina who could never be)

As I dance,
To the song of life.
As I dance,
On a moonlit night.
As I dance,
My senses come alive.
As I dance,
My soul is free.
As I dance,
The music leads me through.
As I dance,
My eyes shine bright.
As I dance,
I go into a trance.
As I dance,
Like a burning flame.
As I dance,
Passion shows on my face.
As I dance,
Sweet romance is,
…on my mind.
As I dance,
My skin feels kissed.
As I dance,
Feels like your embrace.
As I dance,
I feel taken by,
A power divine.
As I dance,
I forget my broken heart.
As I dance,
On a lonesome Saturday night,
As I dance,
Only...to my hearts delight.

April 05, 2006

A Little bout Moi

i Hate...
-Himesh reshammiya or watever that chamiya's name is
-Cockroaches-i killed 3 yesterday by pouring hot water on them...it was awesome fun watching them die lying upside down,on their backs
-Ungrateful people
-Johny Bravo on cartoon network in Hindi...pisses me off
-Buying perfumes for myself..a girl never buys perfumes,she always gets them as gifts
-The guy who's been making me obscene phone calls today...
-Going for a movie alone in a hall
-Sunday evenings
-Monday Mornings
-Falling Sick...i miss my mama more then ever


i Love...
-Sun-dried towels
-Doin the salsa
-Walking barefoot in the park
-Being in love with the idea of being in love...
-Dilbert...makes me laugh
-the moon...makes me want "the something" i can never get
-Unshaved stubbles...basically,the rugged look
-Johnson Baby Lotion...even though it makes me smell like a baby and puts the wrong pheromones in action.
-Reading the blog i love reading
-The glow stars in my bedroom,makes me feel closer to the stars
-Gossiping with my friend Suehlan,she's from Neptune,& she changes her name on an hourly basis
-Overcoats
-Auli and the ski resort there,the snow there,the wooden huts there...
-My Levis'...Firstly,the dirtier they get,the more i love them and Secondly,they stick with me thru all my ups and downs


...that's it for now,more later!!!

March 28, 2006

Khudi



"Khudi ko kar buland itna,
Ke har Taqdeer se pehle,
Khudah bande se yeh pooche,
Baata ...teri raza kya hai?

Sitaaron se aage jahaan aur bhi hain,
Abhi ishq ke imtihaan aur bhi hain... "


KHUDI(AZAAD)-JUNOON

Angel

An angel , that’s what you are
That’s what they all say,
They rape my body,
And tear my soul,
Throw my heart away…

You’re beautiful,
That’s what they all say,
Pretty eyes,
The tears they hide,
Pink lips,
that dont tell,
the storm within...

You’re mine,
Only mine.
That’s what they all say,
They take my hand,
And leave me by the roadside,
For the pauper and king to play.

You’re any man’s dream,
I love ya baeby,
That’s what they all say,
And it sounds so true…
But I know the frikkin’ liars
Reality from illusion i can tell.

An angel, am I really one?
but I don’t own a smile
Cos somewhere on the way,
I gave it away
To someone who made me believe
That an angel, that’s what I am…
To him,
I gave my innocence away...

March 15, 2006

DILBERT

March 13, 2006

Brave girls don't cry!

I was busy playing blind man’s bluff in the park with vinni, when Bijee walked in with tears in her eyes. She hugged me tight and wept for a while before she carried me home in her godi. I was informed later by ma and dad that they had been posted out of station to a place that did not have schools and that I was being sent to boarding school in 2 weeks time. Mama explained to me, that a she wanted me to grow up to be a well read, well educated girl which was not possible in the place they were moving into.
The two weeks before I joint hostel were quite thrilling, but definitely not the best. We went shopping almost daily collecting articles that ranged from a mattress, a huge new trunk that had in name painted on it with white, new toothbrushes, new dresses, Protinex, and the list grew continuously. Mama kept explaining to me that I was being sent to place where I would have other girls my age who would study and play with me, teachers and other people to take care of me. It then dawned upon me that mom and dad weren’t going to be around when I came back from school every afternoon.
I think I must have got a temporary stomach cancer for those two weeks as I couldn’t eat or drink much, and had a constant stomach ache. Vinni wondered why I wasn’t coming to play in the evening. The rumuor among my friends was that I was getting married. Mama was always busy packing and hardly spent any time with me. Papa appeared more serious but did give me longer scooter rides on his vespa every day after coming back from work. Bijee started telling me stories about Hanuman that she had ever told me before. Now I realize she wanted me to know the entire Ramayana before I went to hostel.
The day finally arrived. I was allowed to wear my blue frock that had lacy flowers on it. All my articles and accessories that had been neatly packed up by mama were loaded onto our brand new yellow fiat. I thought I was going to die of stomach cancer then .The drive was very short, we soon reached Sacred Heart Convent School. It was the same school I went to daily but now I was being admitted to the hostel. I had heard strange things about the hostel. Nuns beat up children if they didn’t eat their food. I was extremely scared; Bijee always saved me from mama’s wrath when I didn’t eat the food in my plate.
A lady called sister Justina met as at the entrance and guided us to a hall, which was full of beds covered with similar bedspreads and wooden cupboards. It was painted white and had lots of pink curtained windows .On the side was a line of pegs that had towels neatly hung on them. Rows of shoe racks with neatly polished shoes and slippers were aligned next to the wall. The place had a strange smell.
Sister Justina assigned a bed and a cupboard to me and asked mama to shift all my newly bought articles there. It was 2 hours before my newly acquired bed had been adorned with my teddy bear bed sheets and my cupboard neatly stacked with my dresses and uniforms. Sister Justina allowed me to keep Dodo, my bloated-up alien-looking stuff toy, on the bed. I tucked him within the sheets. He would stay safe that way. Sister Justina gave us a guided tour of the entire hostel. Mama looked pleased with the place where we were going to be given our meal. They called it “the mess”. There were playgrounds and dollhouses and study rooms; separate rooms from everything.
It was almost 4 in the evening now. It was time for ma and pa to leave. I was clinging onto mama, but she had taught me that brave girls don’t cry so I din’t. But I dint want to let go of her dupatta.
Sister Justina came and took charge while my parents drove away, back home. I was left in a room full of girls my age. I forgot mama after a while, everyone had different dolls. We played till the bell rang for evening prayer. We were led into the chapel. After prayer I was called onto the altar, and introduced to everyone.
Dinner followed. We were all seated on either side of long tables. We said “the daily grace” and then served ourselves food. Everyone put food in her own plates; I dropped the hot daal all over my favorite blue frock. The daal bowl was too big and heavy for me. I had ruined my dress. Sister Agnes (the mess-in charge) sent me to the dark ,dingy,ladies room to get cleaned up. It was a scary place. By the time i finished washing up, I had tears in my eyes, and was missing Bijee terribly. She always cleaned me up when I got dirty. When I reached the mess, the food was over. I ate some plain bread and drank hot milk.
Sister Justina took us all to dormitory after that. All the girls changed into nightclothes by themselves. Sukhmani, my new friend came to my bed and talked to me for a while. It seemed she liked Dodo.
After sometime sister Justina came and switched off the lights. It was time to go to sleep, I was told. As I said my daily prayer to Babaji that night, hot tears were pouring onto my pillow. I din't want anyone to hear my sobs so I hid my face in my sheets. I must have dreamt of mama that night, because I had a peaceful sleep.
That was my first day in boarding school. Twenty-one years later, I still have moist eyes as I write. But Mama says, “Brave girls don’t cry!”

Bangaluroo

Hey all, Im in Bangalore. I luuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuv the place. Was year in the “Summer of 2002” for two months. Am back here after a gap of 3 years. The place seems to have gone through a total makeover in that time. I don’t seem to recognize a thing except a few joints, which were among my favorite list then.
I had a good flight on my way here, was flying my “home airline”. They put me in business class; economy class was already full (they put us muftkhors on the flight only if there is space after all the revenue paying passengers have been checked in). They gave me 1A- the first row, window seat in business class with maximum leg space; a very prestigious seat reserved only for “the who’s who”. I was mighty pleased.
The upgrade turned out to be a curse in disguise.
Ten minutes after we’d taken off, the lady on my right who had been smiling at me ever since politely asked me “You belong to Bangalore?”
I politely told her that I belonged to Delhi and was going for a friends wedding.
She couldn’t resist carrying on the conversation. “I am a politician by profession; an MP
Oops…an MP; one saw a lot of pictures on TV or in the newspaper of this particular species, but this one I was totally unaware of.
The session got over today. You must be traveling back home.”
I knew that because on Friday evening the demand for business class seats went up ex-Delhi to other metros as the parliament session closed for the weekend.
Yes, discussions about railway budget and the general budget got over today…. and the Hon’ble Speaker…and Manu Sharma…encroachments in Delhi…..”.
I was bloody bored. I’d had a tough day at work and was in no mood to discuss politics. I chatted up with the MP for a while about religion, politics and the youth of today till I fell asleep.
I got up when the touchdown happened. It was a smooth landing. Couldn’t wait till I deplaned…everyone would be waiting at the arrival hall. I wished the MP well and somewhere within my heart, hoped I never saw her face again.
Reached the arrival hall but couldn’t see a single familiar face. Damn! Where were these guys? I headed towards the local PCO and quickly called up Inder. He was the only one who knew I was coming to Bangalore. It was a surprise for everyone else
“Kithe ho yaar? Koi vi nahi aaya!”
“Gul, just wait up at the arrival hall. We’re caught in a traffic jam.”
“OK!”

The hall was filled with thick white smoke;(the mosquito repellant smoke) I could hardly breathe. I dint want to read .I was too excited.
Inder called soon to say he’d reached. We waited up as Priyanka’s flight was landing in the next 15 minutes. Vishant was on his way to the airport. Suddenly I saw Suehlan’s excited face popping from the car window. She’s not supposed to be here. It’s a surprise for her.
Later, I was told that Vishant “the aurat “ could not keep the secret in his tummy for long and had let the secret out over dinner 3 days back.
I was more surprised than anybody, cos everyone knew that I was coming, and all this while I was thinking that no one knew.
Priyanka came after another 10 minutes. Emotional histrionics followed. Bangloor janta was getting scandalized. We’d better hurry out soon….
We got into the car and decided to go to some local joint for food. Conversation ranged from jobs, girlfriends, boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, house rents, cellular phones, cricket, blue tooth, tyrannical bosses, pay raises etc etc…
We ARE family …
And we had finally made the Bangalore trip happen. The next two days were gonna be fun.

March 08, 2006

Women's Day

It's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

--Extracted from, Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou


To each beautiful woman on this earth.Happy Women's Day.

Honestly speaking i didnt know the concept existed,but for a coupla years back.I think it's come into fashion recently.Its on TV,local radio,newspapers everywhere...Jewellery shops are making it an excuse for selling ;Radio jockeys are doling out free tickets to women ;TV shows especially created on women to increase TRPs;Hot shots giving their respective views on women and empowerment(Half of the buggers probably beat up their wives at home)..etc etc.Im sure Archies and Hallmarks came up with greeting cards for the day.The drama would have continued through the day.Chidambaran must have been a happy man;we're getting closer to our GDP target.

I call it a big farce,especially in our country.

The other day,I actually heard a remark in office on the Jessica Case which went like this,"...She shouldnt have been working in the bar,wearing small skirts that she was...it was bound to happen" .And this came from a guy who was in his late-twenties and well educated .Unbeleivable.God save the women of this country.I dont wanna go on about this...the press and the media have blown the issue enough.

As for me,lots of "women's day" sms's did come to me,mostly from my female friends.The point, is that, i think we women indulged in the spirit of the day amongst ourselves,the male clan could be least bothered except for when it came to increasing business.

My boss did present each lady in office with a red rose,sweet of him to try and make each one of us feel special.Thank you,Sir.

The rest of the day went as usual,the hullabaloo continued.Tomorrow morning the same old story as yesterday shall continue.All i would say is ,Be Strong & Dare to Dream on....Lastly,to me,every single day is "Women's day" to me cos i revel in the spirit of womanhood every minute of my life!

March 07, 2006

My Obsession with Corbett

I was dreaming of Corbett again ...and i was reminded of this horribly funny notice board i saw near the Ramganga in Dhikala,Corbett National Park.It read something like this:

"ALL TOURISTS ARE PROHIBITED TO STAY AWAY FROM THE RIVER .TRESPASSERS IF SAVED WILL BE PROSECUTED"

Watch out for that one if any of you go there.I wonder if its still there though....

March 05, 2006

Crap,Crap and More Crap....

Been a long time since ive been around here...but there's a reason for that.(God forgive me as i sin),but my inspiration for being on this blog hasn't been around for a while and that explains my inactivity.
Not to say that i need inspiration to write like Anew Malik for his songs...but excellence begets excellence...my "so-called inspiration" gives me the required boost to be here.Maybe that means to say that my inspiration works like a drug without which i cannot blog...naa..thats not the case either....i know im typing in crap but wat the hell im allowed once in a while.
im shit bored today,SUNDAY...the one day of the week i share an absolute love-hate relationship with.As much as i love the pleasure of getting up late on a sunday morning,i dont know what to do with myself by 11'o'clock...id rather be in office and selling crap to some jerk...
Ive been sleeping through the day ...am obviuosly going to be up and kicking alive through the night...maybe im gonna be typing crap through the night.Trying to download some decent music from the net,but these P2P networks throw too much porn shit across...a guy would for obvious reasons enjoy it...why dont women enjoy porn the way men do...maybe "MEN ARE FROM MARS AND WOMEN ARE FROM VENUS " wud gimmme the answer but do i care?
Ive been staring at the ceiling for the past 150 secs...its painted creamish yellow,the color you see in most sarkari houses.I wonder why they paint it that color...was it cheaper or did the Britishers like that color?
I just realised i've wasted another 24 hours of my life...i could have been with friends somewhere creating unforgetable moments(Kodak moments) or visiting some exotic part of the world...or simply lazing in the vedaa back home in kotkapura...
Planning a trip to Corbett soon,a place that has always attracted me immensely.Been there 3 times but never managed to see the Indian tiger...tried everything,jeep safari at 3 in the morning,waiting on elephant back(the mahout was so goddamn hot),...waited for hours in silent hope that the wildbeast would honour us with his presence once but it was all effortless.The local guide told me "ab tak sher aapko 100 baar dekh chuka hoga,aapne to ek baar bhi nahi dekha usko"(the tiger would have seen you 100 times by now,and you aint even got a single glimpse).
The Ramganga is wild,like a women possesed ...at the peak of her frenzy.Im gonna go rafting in the Ramganga this time...the gush of the all-consuming rapids is almost orgasmic.
More bout Corbett later,ive been dreaming bout this trip since a long time.been dreaming bout a lotta stuff lately but "samay se pehle or kismat se jyaada kissi ko kuch nahi milta".Thats one school of thought...im not getting into philosphy now..am too tired and will spare you the crap too...gotta go...gonna get some dinner for myself..and continue dreaming...

February 28, 2006

COOL RIDER-if you really wanna know ,what i want in a guy

If you really want to know
What I want in a guy...
Well, I'm lookin' for a dream on a mean machine
With hell in his eyes.
I want a devil in skin tight leather,
And he's gonna be wild as the wind.
And one fine night, I'll be holdin' on tight...

To a coooool rider, a coooool rider.
If he's cool enough,
He can burn me through and through.
If it takes forever,
Then I'll wait forever.
No ordinary boy,
No ordinary boy is gonna do.
I want a rider that's cool.

That's the way it's gonna be,
And that's the way that I feel.
I want a whole lot more than the boy next door,
I want hell on wheels.
Just give me a fine motorcycle,
With a man growin' out of the seat.
And move aside, cause I'm gonna ride...

I don't want no ordinary guys,
Comin' on strong to me.
They don't know what I'm lookin' for,
They don't know what I need.
They're gonna know when he gets here,
Cause the crowd will be shakin'.
I'll do anything to let him know,
That I'm his, his for the takin'.

I want a coooooool rider,
A cool, cool, cool, cool rider.
I want a coooooool rider,
A cool, cool, cool, cool rider.
I want a C-O-O-L R-I-D-E-R.
I need a C-O-O-L R-I-D-E-R.


----FROM GREASE 2

January 13, 2006

Loneliness

I sit and watch by the window side…
Children and mothers,
Fathers and brothers,
Lovers holding hands,
Walk with each other,
Side by side…

I sit by the walls, by the window side…
Voices, shadows, memories
Haunt me, talk to me…
Give me no respite…
I shut myself in a cage…
To stay away from the worldly rage…
And yet it follows me everywhere…
Cacophony, chaos, clamor all around
As I sit by the window side…

Not a soul, a peer, a lover around…
Four walls, empty halls…
My past I probe,
Mind games, binding chains
Hits me hard, I realize im alone…
Screeching silence, pouring tears,
Sanity ebbing away,
I try to grasp my mind…
As I sit by the window side.

January 11, 2006

7 Stages of Love

1. HAB (Attraction)
2. UNS (Infatuation)
3. ISHQ (Love)
4. AQEEDAT (Reverence)
5. IBADAT (Worship)
6. JUNOON (Obsession)
7. MAUT (Death)


Someone said love goes through the above Seven Stages......Does all love die in the end?

January 07, 2006

Duniyadaari ch naa gavach sohneya,
Eh mela char dina da akhir muk jana,
Tusi chan vang ambran ch raho vasde,
Sada tarian da ki pata kadon assi tutt jana...

January 05, 2006

BLACK

The dead of the night,
The blind man’s sight,
Raving ravens in flight,
Satan’s heart,
Color blind,
Death’s call,
Shadows on the wall
Entangled tresses,
Glitzy dresses,
Black beauties,
Voodoo magic,
A witch’s spell,
Lost souls ; hell afar…

January 04, 2006

White

Like…
The blossom of the water lily...
The pearl in the oyster...
The first winter snow...
The bride’s wedding veil...
The wreath that lies on a dead man’s grave...
The rain-washed Taj Mahal...
The first brush of the lover’s lips...

A virgin's untouched grace...
Patience on a monument personified...
The frail old Mother’s face...

Waves crashing on the coast...
A dove in the stormy sky...

December 20, 2005

IN THE PASSING

Free Spirits and Choices
Choices not necessarily right, as much as them being your own
Free spirits not in the sense of being detached, but not bound by extraneous bonds
Nothing more effective than a bond of the heart to let a free spirit willingly go…

Moments and Lifetimes
Moments in a lifetime or lifetimes in moments…the ability to live both

Love and Life

The power to make them synonymous to live for love and love to live

Impulse and Individuality
The impulse of being carefree yet not careless.
Individuality in being able to admire selflessly another person but being perfectly content with oneself

Still waters and Deep convictions
Causes to be won and battles to be fought; the conviction to emerge unscathed,
pick up the pieces and to continue to walk the road you were going.

December 16, 2005

embers

It was a lonely night
The wind so cold
…the moon so full & bold
A million stars played in the skies
Unaware of my’s heart’s cries.

Amidst the darkness
Somewhere in the night
Two souls lit a bonfire alight
I lit the pieces of my heart
He added the fuel
So the fire would last all night long
The flames created visions
Our eyes together saw.

The bonfire burnt through the night
Morning sun rose and left me
As lonely and hurt
Burning as bright as the
Fire of the night
………………only embers remained.

Lost

I lost you; I lost what I lived for
Am neither here, nor there
My existence shaken
My hollow Soul
My mind’ stormed; my eyes pouring
Am so torn.
My head so full,
My vision so hazy,
Cloudy skies, silent pathways
An autumned mind
Spring so far
Your fears, my tears
The fire burns, consumes it all
The music plays, the dream breaks…

it doesn't interest me...

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human. It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it’s not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know, or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where and what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

From the book ---The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Harper San Francisco 1999

The Prostitute

Dim lights
Smudged lipsticks….
Psychedelic symphony
Shadows on the wall
Divinity losing control
Her molten beauty
His power so strong
Her clear crystal face
Brutally calm and serene
Torrents of his desire
The depth of which cannot be seen

The human jungle…
The gory detail
A wicked spell thy caste
The entire land shall have a blast
The story now begun…

She gathers her robe and walks
The price for the act is now paid
She moves on for her next prey
Powerless nudity lies couched on the bed
Serenity walks away
Mourns the loss of innocence
A winner, a loser
Battles never fought

The prostitute on the Street
Shivers as she walks.

December 15, 2005

MOON

Faraway… shining bright,
Hurting the night
Tearing through my body
Ripping through my mind

Making love to my soul;
My head loses control.

I look at the moon and smile
Knowing that it’ll never be mine…