philosophy, Poetry

Dead lives,

Dead lives, dead leaves,
Scattered across the grey streets,
On a soulless journey to nowhere or everywhere
with the winds sweeping them onto different destinations
With the time decaying them back into life;
Just so they could fall lifeless once again.
What do you hope to find in this circular maze?
How are you different from other carbon corpses?
Dead eyes, dead voice,
After all, a beating heart was never your choice!
Like the stones, like the deepest ocean bed,
You are silently waiting for the end ahead.
Hush!Hush!Hush!
Don’t think it too loud!
Hush!Hush!Hush!
The stars might overhear!
Time might end today or after infinity,
But the blood must continue running stale in your veins
The thoughts must wander lost always.
Dead leaves, dead lives,
sleeping indifferently on the streets at nights.
Make sure there’s never anything to see
Make sure that the eyes are always wide shut
For if they blink open, if they ever do,
It will all come fiercely rushing through,
in all its unfairness,
tearing apart your blissfully protective wall of indifference-
The storming life,
The warrior love,
valiantly destroying your ignorant existence,
Your living death.

***

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Poetry

That Bastard hope!

Hope isn’t a friend, my friend;
Even the popular norms can be misleading.
Hope isn’t the guy you can trust;
Sometimes, even strangers are less deluding.
Sure hope can gift you blissful dreams;
Dreams which are capable of making your hearts flutter with joy,
Shooing away all the things that might have got you annoyed
He would take you to a faraway destination –
On which you would do all kinds of investigation
For, of course, you will make that journey one day,
That one day won’t be tomorrow,
That one day won’t even be the day after tomorrow,
That one day!
That one day will be someday,
An abstract thing,
A floating entity not willing to be quantified as a date
And to be brought down into the ugliness of calendars at any rate!
But we don’t have to know this, yes.
Though even with this ignorance, don’t you dare transform that day into today
Hope won’t take it.
This very act jeopardizes the purpose of his existence,
So, he will put up with all forms of resistance,
Gaining the shape of its alter ego
Suddenly, he will transform into his apprehensive self—
What if? What if? What if?

Hope will always project an ideal parallel future,
ready to be touched but never intending to intersect;
When the limit tends to zero there would always be something to interject,
So, let your dreams thrive in the islands far far away,
Either they be tomorrows of tomorrows,
Or simply yesterdays,
Hope is a kind bastard,
who doesn’t mean you any harm, of course.
A guy a bit too concerned
who wants to protect you from remorse.
But don’t let him take control
After all what matters the most is his greatest fear—
Today.
Oh hope! It will be okay!
Frankly, I am pretty scared of your hazardous affection
Hope, you can’t always keep looking for acceptance
When you know what necessary part of life are rejections,
So, don’t leave me here in the midway-
when you have got me half dreamy but dangerously short of motivation
Be the chain reaction to my actions;
I don’t want your presence through scattered fractions,
Be honest hope! Be persistent!
If I give up, be insistent!
If I try, be an assistant!
If I fuck up, be resistant!
If I am bogged down lift me up,
Hold my hand through each hiccup,
Be real,
Not surreal,
I don’t need you as evasion,
Or some repeated persuasion,
Don’t function as a pill meant to abate,
I just need you as a mate!
But these aren’t in his basic nature,
For hope is a funny creature!
Known for his abrupt endings,
‘Hopeless’ is his second nomenclature
And so, you can only hope that he stays till the end.
Because yes, hope isn’t a friend, my friend.

***

Poetry

O Heart!

Heart

My dreams are too heavy
My will isn’t strong enough to hold that weight
Let me take that baggage off my shoulders
My struggle to breath is tiresome
Let me go back to the oceans before I die,
I am the trapped fish in an imaginary net
I know it’s not a good idea;
My gills sometimes malfunction
They long for the undissolved air when I swim
My lungs overestimate their capabilities
They long for the turquoise blue when I feel the sand under my toes
How heart, do you manage to be so lovingly deceitful?
Under the cover of your pretentious dumbness
You’ve still somehow got the smart brain in your grasp
How heart, do you manage to be so foolishly clever?

My dreams are too heavy
They gift me wings
And slowly clip them away
I guess I should appreciate the weightlessness then
But my imagination spreads with a combination of black and white
Not gray! Never the gray!
Never mind the circumstances
They can be different but they won’t be good.
Let me oscillate between these two areas –
A moment ago, I swear I couldn’t have been more proud!
But now self-abhorrence washes over me
How heart, do you manage to be so sweetly cruel?
What’s the reason behind your deception?
Your prolonged dissatisfaction?
Moving up the pyramid of desires,
Is there any end to your doomed existence?
To your search for meaning?
No! Heart, don’t throw those occasional rays of hope again!
I know there aren’t any better tomorrows
There will always be some codes to decipher of another realm altogether
How do you manage to be such an honest liar, heart?

So, yes, my dreams are heavy!
My will isn’t strong enough to hold that weight
Or easily accept the decisions of fate
If you hadn’t been so difficult to live without
I would have asked someone else to pump the blood, I swear
But how heart, do you manage to be so dispensably indispensable?
And probably the worst decisions of the history or the present or the future
Have been, are being and will be taken by you
And yet I can’t stop myself from floating along your crazy impulses
You should have never been allowed to lead
Or voted to such high position at all
I guess that’s where sometimes democracy falls
At its very foundation
But never mind this politics, you are mesmerizing!
How heart, do you manage to be such pathetic and yet popular leader?

My dreams are heavy but I will carry them along till I am crushed or something
If they feel like cotton, I will ensure that I take a dip in the river
On your stupid orders, heart, on your stupid orders!
I would trade my peace with ambition
Simplicity with complex imagination
My rationality with irrational bouts of rapture
You have a cruel sense of humor
I regret it now that I ignored this rumor.
They said that you would be fun
Ah! What an ugly pun!
I want to rebel against you, heart.
But there’s no way to escape your hypnotic grasp
Or my obsession without any lethal withdrawal syndrome
God, you are such an asshole!
How, heart do you manage to be so attractively ugly?
So repulsive that it’s hard not be in love with you.

***

food for thought, Inspiration, philosophy

The two assholes in our heads

Every night I sleep with a different state of mind. Old plans are screwed, new plans are made. There are new criteria for judging myself and there are new reasons to be hopeful. Everyday, I wake up with a different head. Sometimes there is a perpetual smile on my face and I keep wondering why am I even happy. Sometimes, I am destitute, I can’t find sources for my dismay and the day gets worse and worse. I love roller coaster rides but life takes my love too seriously. I mean I don’t mind these hellish rides, but I would like to get off of it sometimes. I would appreciate it better in its absence. It’s complicated; I know it doesn’t have to be and I know in my heart that life really is kind of simple. But it’s hard not to be the way we are.We expect too much and we stress too much, we are sad about things that don’t deserve our sorrow, we are bored but we do nothing about it and then we are sad again, we are annoyed because we don’t know really what to do, we are meaningless because what does a drop mean in the midst of an ocean, we are not genetically superior- not too smart, not too beautiful, not too cool, not too talented in any area, we are just there! Just there! Our reason to exist- an utter mystery! We look at the greener grass at the other side, meanwhile someone else mistakes the grass that we are standing on to be green and we weave up our escape plans, scrap them next morning realizing that we are just not that passionate. What are we passionate about then? We turn to our heart for an answer. Of course he doesn’t speak.We long ago threw up our hands because no matter what we do, no manipulating technique can convince us to pursue what we seem to love. We will never be good enough. People will tell you, they will encourage you – Don’t you underestimate yourself child! Well, what if we are not? What if our ‘underestimate’ is actually an exact estimate. And this is how the second person who resides in you will never get convinced. He will remain skeptical. He will shut the other person up every time. Every dreamy, enticing, glamourous plan will be scrapped by him right away. There he is, the other dreamy person in your head, residing in the dustbin now.

This dominating boring person isn’t that bad though. He will console you as well. He will encourage you to accept things how they are. He will ask you, beg you to cherish your present situation, to see the beauty of it. He will ask you to be happy. Yes, he won’t let you picture the grandness. Yes, he would cut all those day dreams right in the middle. Yes, he will be an asshole! But is he? What’s wrong with his point of view? He is asking you to be happy! What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with being ordinary, what’s wrong if we are not an artist or a traveller or a photographer or a writer or a scientist or a chef? What’s wrong if we leave our homes at nine and come back at five, if we don’t have an instagram account that shows them mountains and oceans or those spontaneous weekend get aways? What’s wrong with that? Why do we have to crucify our ordinary lives? And ordinary jobs? You tell everyone to be special – Well, Newsflash! – You are not. You are boring. Your life is not glamourous. Your sadness is annoying. Your cribbing doesn’t make sense. And you, just you, not your boss or your classmates or your friends or your parents, you, with your own beautiful hands are making yourself miserable.

That’s what this person is trying to tell you. So, is he an asshole, really? Okay, maybe he is. But when you think of it, isn’t the other dreamy person an asshole as well?
I am not asking you to be happy with who you are – that thing doesn’t happen with a blog post.What I am trying to tell you is that there are two people in your head. One won’t let you do what you want to do. Other won’t let  you  do what you currently do.

Both of them are equally evil.

I don’t myself know how to handle them.But sometimes, when you are walking across the street(or maybe not), when the wind is right (or maybe not), when there are flower petals fallen on the ground glorifying your entrance (or maybe not), when your shoes don’t bite (or maybe they do), when your laptop bag isn’t that heavy (or maybe it is), when you had had just the right amount of food at your favourite food place (or maybe not), you can choose to ignore both of these idiots and just breath and realize what a bliss that is.

Fuck everything else.

Inspiration, Poetry

Why I will never dream…

I will never leave the comforts of present ,
Or the wise learnings of my luxurious past,

Just to embrace the unknowns and variables of future,
I will never accept the possibilities aghast!

Finding several reasons, suggestions, advice based on experience,
I will analyze and over analyze, all the permutations & combinations,
To and fro, meandering , my thoughts running in circles…
Some casting a dreamy light at zenith, and many pointing to awful abominations.

Resisting, demanding, refuting, commanding,
I will never settle for being just another ordinary,
Nevertheless, don’t expect me to take the steps that lead to the opposite..
Neither dare you tell me that nothing will make me extraordinary!

I will be secretly aware but don’t bring it up,
My deceptive hopes and daydreams will always cover up,
I am content looking at the surroundings, camouflaging immediately,
hiding, adapting, crawling and smiling idiotly,
My retribution – Being just another brick in the wall…
And never accepting the same or living happily at all!
Shush! It’s a secret – let me put up a radiant smile,
If I go on about this publicly, I would be declared whiny and vile!
So let me crack some jokes, make merry, be a little vain,
And please, let me raise the toast to my blatant latent pain.

food for thought, Inspiration, philosophy

A happy ending

image

I feel like a child sometimes. My hand is held by my fate who happens to be my loving guide and we walk along this beautiful monotonous road that I love so much that I loathe it. I am easily distracted by the things that pass by our journey. And why wouldn’t I be? Grass is so green all around me and the road is so dull! So, I try being stubborn and all -putting forward my desires to leave the road and take a detour among the greener sides. Fate says no. I insist. Fate says no again. I throw some tantrums. Fate is tired  and so she says – Okay go ahead, explore.

I am delighted! My heart is elated! I hurriedly let go of her hand and begin to run towards the unexplored woods, my feet touch the green grass, my hands are not held and I am free to run! To dance! To go anywhere I want! It’s amazing! And it is finally happening to me!And it is at this thought that I stop and look back at her.

Pause.

Play.

I start to walk into the woods again reminding myself that this is what I ever wanted!

Pause.

Play.

And then for no reason or for those reasons that I am not ready to accept just yet I stop and look back again.

Pause.

Play.

Fate smiles; she knows what’s about to happen. I turn my head towards the woods again, I look at it so lovingly – “I am almost there!”

Stop.

And then I give a sigh and trace my way back to the road. I hold her hands again and we begin to walk.

I tell myself that grapes are sour. I tell myself that the day wasn’t right. I console myself – Maybe tomorrow. Fate senses my sorrow, being the encouraging person she is, she assures me how beautiful the road is going to be. The trueness in her eyes is not deceptive, the dumbness in my perception is just appropriately clandestine ; I am convinced it’s for the best and hence we walk again.

We are walking again, walking again through the road that I loathe so much that I love it.

It’s a happy ending. My happy ending.

Poetry, random

Claustrophobia

Author’s stupid note ( or rather a trailer of what the poem that follows below is all about) :

There’s a line in Kane and Abel (the famous novel by Jefferey Archer) that I find really interesting; Sometimes it’s an advantage to be disadvantaged.
So,does this line also imply that sometimes it’s a disadvantage to be advantaged?

My answer:-

My six by six feet life,
the lines I wouldn’t cross,
the space confined by the mirrors…
dripping with advantages,
I wonder if I even deserve it, I wail at it’s irrelevance,
Sometimes I am envious of a heart with a hole, or a dysfunctional brain;
Such a shame is this perfect life, such a waste is it’s existence!

Guilt engulfs me in its suffocating arms, these foolish foolish words…
“Take that back! Take that back!” its voice resonates unheard.

My six by six feet life,
a blade or hammer or a knife,
An odd series of optimistic roles are assigned here,
Especially with the cynic voice complaining inside,
I guess I can rip myself out of this beloved trap,
maybe break myself through,
Sometimes I am glad that I am mortal, for immortality is a curse…
You will breath and breath and breath and one day you will want yourself to submerge!

Guilt engulfs me in its suffocating arms, these foolish foolish words…
“Take that back! Take that back!” its voice resonates unheard.

My six by six feet life;
The air inside is toxic,
the nerve is less and dreams are big
And most of the time, I am cursing the bricks…
What else to do I am hitting them all,
Again and again… never wanting to cease,
Blast!
At last,the walls explode!
Finding sudden enthusiasm and a hope for freedom,
I fly away, every piece of mine runs in different dimensions,
It’s all fallen down, the voice has fallen mute,
Peace and calmness,
Happiness and hues,
And along comes running the same old blues…

Here’s my new six by six feet life,
Such a shame is this depressing world…

“Take that back! Take that back!” the voice resonates unheard.

Inspiration, philosophy, Poetry

The Orange Sky

Time has come and the time has gone,
Another sun will rise with another dawn,
All I have now are the traces of the missing star,
An unknowingly discontented heart or an unacknowledged scar,
Oh! If I could just know the reason why or just the meaning of I,
As if listening, “Why bother?” whispers the lovely orange sky.
 
So, maybe I am laughing I cannot really see,
Or maybe it’s alright, I cannot really feel,
Anyhow I look forward to another misplaced sun,
Another beautiful day and another misleading run,
Maybe the night shall make me tough, and hope will keep me high,
And then, as if listening, “Why bother?” whispers the lovely orange sky.
 
So now I finally listen, I melt into the beautiful hues,
Lost or Found? I don’t really have many clues,
Few tears escape my eyes as if they have committed treason,
Is it the dying day or the dream? I don’t really know the reason.
Few more fall as the colors fade and as the last traces of light die,
And then, as if listening,” Why bother?” whispers the lovely orange sky.

 

Penumbramagazine, Poetry

The rat race

Just a little something I wrote when I was not supposed to.

So, the rat went on this trail that was open, wide and broad,
Running and running, he chased all those who were aboard,
He ran and he sped, he left more and more behind,
And among all the cheers spent on him, his own he couldn’t find.
But following other rats was in fact perfectly fine.
His proud parents, his envious friends- How could he ever mind!
So, he ran anyway, his stars were aligned,
So what if his life was something that he never got to define!

Above is just an excerpt, you can read the whole poem at  http://penumbramag.com/the-rat-race/

food for thought, my life, PATNA CHRONICLES, philosophy

Finally home!

So, here lies the answer of how we finally got home.

A little precap;

Last time you checked we had landed on the Vadodara station. Our tiring journey from Delhi to Vadodara had finally come to an end.

(^To know more details you can read this- What the hell is she talking about?)

But the movie had not ended.

Our destination was Surat, not Vadodara.

We had this general ticket. And even though it takes just about two hours to reach Baroda by train, the prospect of getting into the heavily crowded bogie with our heavy luggage was giving us goose flesh.

But quite bravely, first we did try to sit in a general bogie.

However, the bogie we considered as general was not really general. It was reserved for army and people related to army.

So, when we tried to get in, we were, in simple words, thrown out.

Three individuals who looked hopelessly tired and worn out in every freaking possible way and all these “army” people had got to say was- “Get out off our bogie!”

What kind of army were they if they couldn’t help out a fellow civilian!

Shame on them!

But god was smiling on us from above.

A much more comfortable journey was waiting for us.

And I am glad that we didn’t get into that bogie. Those army people can go fuck themselves ( I have never said this before but I think I will mention it once hoping that it would be enough for all my previous and upcoming posts- “Pardon my language. I swear a little when I write but I can’t help it. )

So, the train we had almost boarded departed. But there was another train that was about to depart soon. What we did was -we sort of bribed the TT, requested him to give us seats if they were available. (We here mostly consists of my brother and sister, I was just a silent spectator the whole time)

As it turned out, the seats were indeed available. And we got to travel the ending two hours of our journey breathing the cool conditioned air.

Of course, we had to pay for that but okay we were happy.

Money CAN buy happiness. Don’t let anyone tell you different.

So, this was how the battle ended and a new era had begun in my life. New era is not an exaggeration or just something that I used as a comic literary tool. No, I meant it.

The train journeys will never be the same again.

The Patna City will be never be the same again.

My sister’s life (and mine and my whole family’s life as well) will never be the same again.

It is indeed the dawn of a new era.

And adding cherries on the top is this year…

This year; Oh! It has been a mother of changes! And not just this year, my whole college life (so far) has been dynamic in a way I had never imagined it to be. Of course, I had dreamed of a huge, humungous group of cool kids that I would hang out with. A trip every weekend or every month. Party every night. Amazing hostel life. Countless love affairs. (Oh! why not confess it?) And even with all that I would somehow, be a good student with a future (as bright as sun) as a good engineer.

None of that shit happened.

None of that shit is going to happen.

What happened instead was something I could have never seen coming.

People changed, Circumstances changed, Thoughts changed, Dreams changed, Beliefs changed.

And I never got to be cool.

I never got to be smart.

I never got to be a hero. (I never wanted to anyway)

I never got to be a bitch. (I badly wanted to be a bitch. Being bad is so cool!)

I never got to be what I wanted to be.

But what I got to be is someone whom I had never imagined before;

Me.

Who would have thought?

Ask the 5 year old me about how I see my life fifteen years later and you will know the difference.

And that five year old me is sitting right next to me asking- Who are you?

They are not kidding when they say that college is all about discovering yourself. Three years and I already do not recognize myself.

I have finally discovered it.

I have been too busy screaming sitting on the roller-coaster rides to realize that what I have wanted all along is something quite different from what I wanted myself to want. Who would have thought?

And that is why a new era has begun.

An era wherein I am not somebody’s daughter, not somebody’s sister, not somebody’s student, not somebody’s friend, not somebody’s “utopian vision” but me.

But me.

I hear some of my friends telling me their amazing tales of their awesome happening college life. Until now I was envious as I had found mine quite boring and dull and undesired. But not anymore. My life is not stagnant. It’s always changing.

It’s ALWAYS changing.

I have wasted too much of time not realizing that.

So, here comes a new sun. A sun filled with hope, with new dreams and a new life.

And a new era dawns in my life.

If you have been traveling pretty much the same path as mine then I suggest that you stop now and look back. I hope you will see the things that I have seen.

I hope you see the five year old you standing there barely recognizing you.

Talk to him. Listen to him and you will know the difference.

 

Anyhow, I was finally in Surat I guess. And the Patna chronicles, hereby, ends.

Of course, there should a special edition covering my sister’s wedding out pretty soon. But I can’t say. I don’t usually get to know the stuff I am going to write about until I am writing it. And when occasionally I do, I don’t write it at all.

So, would I really be writing the tale of my sister’s wedding?

We will find out later.

Anyway, back at the topic of my return journey.

The term battle is undoubtedly a little exaggerated for that but traveling such long distances in India is indeed a very painful task.

And it might not be a battle but it is close enough. Therefore, when we finally reached home I did find my inner peace.

Of course, it got lost again pretty soon.

But it was good to be back home.

It is good to be back home.

Though it is a completely different story that now I am pushed into another battle ground but I think that’s just life and the point is -this story has come to an end.

The conclusion being; my vacation has been quite memorable. How about yours?

Signing off,

Theturquoiseink