Haze . . !

Haze!!
That's how it begins.
Haze, a thick, mysterious, colourless haze. Yes, that's how it begins. And then you miss a step or two and the next thing you know, you're falling. You're falling into a deep, dark . . a deep, dark abyss? Well, you're falling and you don't know where or how you will land. It seems like an abyss, trust me. Omnious is just another word that could be used to describe it. And yet I can also say that it seems like you're stuck in a moment, a moment that doesn't seem to end. A moment not important enough to be remembered, yet, it becomes a moment that starts to define you and you can't seem to get out of it. That moment, there is music there which in an odd way is comforting but you know you're alone, in that moment, and you're stuck and the only way to get yourself out is by pulling yourself out of it and you are talking to yourself, you keep talking to yourself because you don't know how it will end. Nobody ever knows how it ends. It's a relief that inspite of it all, there is something that still makes you jump. Trust me, it IS a relief.

Nothing!!

I am sat here with a feeling in my heart. This feeling of nothingness. Extreme nothingness! No sadness, no longing, no happiness, no apprehension, no excitement, no anger or remorse and dare I say, no love. Nothing! Words that were once mine. Words, that now scoff and turn their backs on me. Atleast, I got something in return. So what if it's nothing. I has a 'thing' tailing it, right? How's that for a positive spin? Why won't them words communicate anymore? What now? Where does one go from here? Does it even matter though? Ki farak painda hai, right? I mean it would be a new day tomorrow. Tomorrow, when all of this would go away. Tomorrow, when today won't matter anymore. Maybe it would be like just another day. Empty! And this blank page would still stare at me with it's cold cold eyes. Eyes that pierce right through my skin. It's odd how they can see right through me and are blind still. A state of trance, a lens out of focus, a hazy transclusent scene. Hazy and translucent, aren't they necesarrily the same words? The same words that fill no gaps. The same words! But what good are they? Because in the end, nothing really matters! While writing this post I had to give this a colour. How DOES one colour nothingness? Or give it an image for that matter? But I guess this is how it would if time suddenly stopped stood still. And you left a mere spectator, a spectator of a painting with characters on a canvas expected to evoke emotions. A painters' puppets.

End!

Your love is beautiful like a bird but the night is dark and it scares me. Actually, that is an understatement. It terrifies me!!!!!!! This feels warm, it feels fuzzy but for how long? Kaari raat mora jiya ghabraaye!! Nights, it seemed friendly, it seemed comforting, it seemed mine! Mine? What is really mine?! Them trinklets? Them plenty clothes that don’t seem to end. Or those promises that are made to me . . or the promises I make to myself? Are they mine? Them hands so empty. Wish they were so full! That heart so lonely, Wish it wasn’t! Those whispers, they never seem to stop! Why wouldn’t they stop? Decisions?! Endless decisions!! Stop .. stop . . Please Stop . . Stop! That song it gets stuck in my head and it plays over and over again till it makes me bleed! How do you make it end?! The heart it beats . . so loud and that if we shushed for a bit, I am sure we’d hear it! The serpents out to get you . . ! Techno!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It must end . . !

A boy still!

A boy of probably thirteen. Happy. Mischevious. Pulling tricks day in and day out. Boys will be boys. A minute agoe he was a boy still, the darkest day dawns upon him and as the minute passes he is forced to age into a man. Just like that. No options offered, no questions asked. Just like that. Tear stained cheeks, wandering eyes, the disbelief, the questions that arise, why now? Why so soon? Why should he grow up? They say, "It will all pass, it will all be alright." Are they really that naive? Do they really expect him to believe them? Do they not know that he no longer believes? That day when the sun didn't rise, he no longer believes. That darkness that enevelops him brings many faces, faces he doesn't need. What he needs is no longer there. The face he craves to see is gone and all that is left is an eclipse. An eclipse darkness and lucid dreams. It's kind of funny, it's kind of sad, the dreams in which he is dying are the best he's ever had.He scorns, he scoffs, he mocks us all, he mocks are ignorance. He wishes he was just as ignorance. Lost in smoke. All he craves for is peace.A man of twenty two, is no different from the day. He still lives in the same murkiness of that day. A never-ending gloom. He still has no faith. Dear God, he still can't believe in you. He won't believe in heaven no hell, no pearly gates, no devil burns well. Boys WILL be boys. Him,a boy still, Dear God, oh God! he won't believe in you! The pain doesn't end. He knew it then, he can confirm it now. They WERE all wrong. It will never be alright. NEVER. That question, a curse it has become. It haunted him then, it haunts him still. The question his mouth won't word. "What about my father?" "Why my father?"

A Dream that is mine . . !

I walk through these streets. These streets with no sign boards. No maps. All this technology, them satellites, a peeping tom. Does it not know where I want to be? Can it not guide me? I claim that I belong to no one. I claim that I am a citizen of nowhere. Epmty words! False pride! The world owns me! Them twinkling diamonds in the sky are my puppet master. I dance to their tune. I bow down at their command. Then there is you and here is me. Do I ask for a lot? Bullies they are, a rebel,I am. The day is theirs, the nights shall be mine. I refuse to compromise! I close my eyes and there is you and with you there is peace. In you there is calm. There is this magic about you that makes me feel so safe. I feel so free. There is a tenderness about your ways that makes it all so warm, that makes it all so cosy. If I could see myself while I sleep, I bet I am forever smiling. It's all in that momment where the music never stops. All in that momment where all is beautiful. :) All in that moment where nothing else matters. The fact that it's just a dream holds no importance. The dream is mine! :) The morning dawns and it seems to me that the sunshine recedes. I close my eyes tighter hoping it would go away. It doesn't. I admit defeat and hold up a white flag with one last prayer that you'd still be there when I open my eyes. The dream so intoxicating, it takes me through the day and I hold my head high like a proud warrior. I move about with a dream in my heart and I smile. I know I am not asleep and yet I smile! :) It must the magic of that dream that dream that makes it all better. A dream that is mine! :)

The Dreaming Tree!

Oh well! I seem to that a lot these days. I find it easier to hold my hands high and surrender. Makes me happier in some ways. As someone once scorned and looked at us all and went, ''Stay happy, you ignorant fools!'' An ignorant fool? Am I really or is it someone I chose to be. I see myself in that someone who said that but then I also think, it's just me who is an ignorant fool. Questions! questions! more questions! Are we going to ask them questions that scare me? Will I find truth in my defiance? I am fed up! I surrender. Did I not say that already? I am happy. Very happy. I wish my Shiva was just as happy. Oh! but wait. Super Sumi has a plan for her. She will be all well. Tell you what? She WILL be all well. I won't surrender. But what of them other people I love so very much? Ashish thanks me for giving him 'Sad Eyes' and I feel miserable. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. And I am feeling fine again. I feel I am growing old. I am growing old, this very minute. My words become muffled, my vision becomes distorted. I am fixated to/in? this space. Anyhow, I am fixated! There are these screaming words in my head! Them words that must be said. ~Them words that must be heard and they shout out loud to me and this afternoon, they say more clearly than ever before. They say, I am a dreaming tree. A tree that grows old,doesn't move just grows. I am a tree for I do not move. I am tree for I watch people the people around me, move. I am tree that dreams as I watch everyone else, foools? no, not fools, just people. I am the dreaming tree!

Me, the Me.

02/01/10 . . Do I really believe in that date? Truth of the matter is, yes, I do, I just chose not, like most of the things I do. This year, I chose to be a New Year Scrooge. It's all Bah! Humbug! to me and it seems all so silly to me. All so absurd, all so meaningless and for the first time, I stare at those three words and I stare at them hard. ''Happy New Year'' they say and I read them but I can't get myself to say them out loud. Every Ship must sail away, so, here is gone, 2009. Why do I not want to let go of it? Why do I hold on to it so tight? Is it where I feel safe? Is it where I want to be? I know, I don't. I just get cold feet as and when I move forward. It wasn't this hard. It has just become hard now. My feet get colder and colder and my steps seem to freeze but then there is a part of me that wants to run past it all. Run past twenty ten. Run to the hazy future that I want to see clear and bright. :) For it makes me smile. Oh yes! it does. :) They say, ''Live in the moment'' but where do I live, once the moment is over? So, I make an attempt to make sense (haha ironically the word is not often used in my context) of the haziness that lies infront of me but as I do so this fear and panic starts to grip (but the word rip would also do) me. The neauseating 'what ifs of what just might be a mirage'' attacks me from all sides! I, broken to bits, a bit that sighs, a bit that judes, a bit that comprehends none, a bit that thinks, a bit that smiles and a bit that doesn't give a tiny rat's ass (thank you Phoebe). Me, the me! oh! the me! that scorns at the drunken fools that enter semi-consciously, the fools that refuse to see what we have done to ourselves, what we are doing to ourself and everything around as we enter into this 'new' year. Is it really new? No, it isn't! These are the same people who did the exact same thing last year, them fools, who will do the exact same thing the year after this one. Me, the me! oh the precious me! that sees it all, the one that wonders what will become of it all? Where does it all stop? or does it EVEN stop? Me. the me! The one who sits cosy, in piles of wool! Me, the me! that points! Me, me that accuses! Bah! Humbug! you drunken fools! Me, OH ME! the hypocrite that is Me. :)