The moment when you start existing and start believing in yourself and in everything around. . everything communicates . . I exist and I exist for a reason . .all secrets within you come out in the open . . a mind lies here in the nude 

Free as a wave that breaks away from the depths of the sea under a glittering moon, bound by the promises made, I sink with the sands of time, perhaps, ethereal 

Hello my very many faceless followers in this void of the world wide web. It hasn't escaped my notice that my last post was posted way back in 2013 and now we are in the TWO THOUSAND FIFTEEN. So it has been a LONG TWO years since I used this space. Two years? Really? It doesn't feel it, feels like it was just tomorrow when I was tapping away on my keyboard in a state of trance but the world wide web doesn't lie. It has been THAT long. Although I did find a few random scribbles although I'd prefer the word scribblings (which remind me rabbit poo but I do like saying the word) that I must have written down in the past two years. Funny thing, Time, the more I try and solve this equation called time, the more I want to become it. Faceless,  mostly escaping unnoticed and bullying your face off till it weighs you down  when it decides to act like a downright beast. But if I really think about it maybe I don't want to become time, that would mean I'd be endless and never stopping even for a microsecond. I'd be fit as hell but tired beyond words. Just the thought tires me and makes me immovable. Did I ever say, I sometimes live a life full of oxymorons? Well I do. If I haven’t said it before, I am saying it now. 

I would tell you what has been happening in my life in the last two years, except I don’t know how to. I don’t exactly know which part of my kaliedscopic life, I am in, at this very minute. So, I guess, time doesn’t change much. I still live a life of utter confusion, all except I don’t bother about them so much. A conundrumic life. Hah! I wanted to use the word conundrum today. It is a mighty fancy word. Conundrum. 

I was reading up about brains today and how it is divided into various parts. A mighty loads of jargons, that article was but here is what I remember of it. I, as do you all, have an obnoxiously arrogant controlling apparatus on our heads from sleep to our music, it controls EVERYTHING. From hysteria to psychedelic imagination. If I could buy a brain in a shop, I would chose the

artistic colorful types. This very interesting part is the hippocampus ( I wonder why it is called that, All I can imagine is a school of hungry hippos running about in a state of complte frenzy) but that is what it does, it controls our memories, I guess that is how our memories are, like the chaotic hippos. Sometimes you make sense of them and sometimes they leave you stumped, like my little scribblings from past. Thinking about them in my glorious present, I don't even remember ever penning them down but here they are staring at me in my face. Makes me realize how little of myself did I carry on forward with me to the 2015 and yet it is still me. One can only hope a little more sorted me. Sorted!  

As a person, yes, I have changed. For one, the great magnetic pull that I used to feel towards everything and nothing at the same time, has disappeared. I was once Homer, my naked ears being tortured by the sirens sweetly singing, and now, Now the thoughts don’t form words. Perhaps, because there are no thoughts.  I have wanted to matter, for a really long time and now, perhaps, I do matter, only, it doesn’t really matter to me. Like a tambourine, sniffing the whiffs of the voodoo frills, wearing engulfing smiles that are drowning every gaze that an ensnared eye would throw on them. Whether they’re themselves anymore, I do not know. If those are Dave Mathews’ dreaming trees, the ones that I can see, the ones that a tiny part of me wants to be, I wouldn’t know. They seem to be swaying, dancing to melodious rhythms of what deafening sounds, but they don’t seem to care. Yes, I want to be them. Swaying tall, swaying tall to the beat of indifference. Perhaps, I am already one of them. Haze, ah! The one thing that has been a constant in my life. 

I dreamt a dream, some 7 years ago. The dream was simple. I wanted to write a book. Haha I think it was longer than that that we dreamt that dream where Gurleen and Me, decided to write a book about our ooh very exciting lives, we were going to call it, “Biography and autobiography- by Gurleen and Sumira”. I started writing it as well, but the chapters have now, well, dissipated. Varun thought that I’d make it big one day and got me started some 6 years ago. Wow! It has been six years since I’ve been writing, not all that much, but yeah, my thoughts are being miraculously saved somewhere in this world of the world wide web and attic as it is, one that I’d dust off the dirt from there and find perhaps, beautiful antiques in some of them. And even if they remain unlocked for centuries, I guess it would be okay, because today, if I sit and reminisce all the years that have gone by, I know that there is lovely melange of laughter, music, dancing, crazy dancing and magic there, even if there was some pain there, even if there were some sad sad eyes, I know that we still have a lot of laughter left in all of us. The bones, even if they sound rustic, aren’t old. There is a lot of life left even if some of the smiles are some of the eyes aren’t around anymore. There are a lot of days lefts. That’s what we all live for, isn’t it? The smiles!

All it takes is that one moment. That tiny moment where in where the dots, by some unforeseen, unknown magic, connect and before you know it, it’s all squares marked with your initials. 
Just like that. 
So connected and yet so oblivious to the emptiness that envelops your very being. Living oxymorons, I shake a leg to the sad sad words. The regulars blind you with their sheen, all it is, is them, all that it seems to be, will be them. Everybody wants to be special here but the regulars over shine them by miles! Sipping the smiling words, I don’t know what they say, but it makes me smile. 
I smile. 
It’s all happening! It’s really happening, all the magic, right here before my eyes. I don’t know what happy is anymore, but neither do I know sad. Tis not needed, not anymore. I guess, this is it! Peace. 
The strings, the chill, the grunge, the sweet sweet melody and I am drowning. I choose it now. I chose not to swim, not to breathe, not to strive so hard. I chose no words. Peace is all mine now and all it takes is that one moment. 

Ladies and Gents (certainly not Gentlemen! That is a dinosaur and we are now living in the age of the ‘cool’). What was I saying again?

Yes!

Ladies and Gents and as I say/write it down, I imagine myself stood, high up on a podium with millions of eyes (your eyes) mesmerized by the words that flow out of my mouth. Only these words like tiny people in a helicopter, that flows over your head and from the inside of these copters, these people wave at you but don’ see them. All it is, is the copter flying with some magic dust. The machinery, oh so magnificent, oh so grand and oh! it flies!! Peaople? Which people? 

There was this one time when I was sipping my cup of tea (yes! These days I drink tea, daily-ish) I thought about that little girl who jumped out of the window, a helicopter in her own way, a helicopter that crash landed! The pain! The remorse! The rubbish! 

Rain has changed sides, au jourd'hui. It's brought me this happy feeling evening.Actuality, a word I discovered, I really liked. I like it because, it makes me believe like something is happening. Always happening . Like machinery, even though I don't like machines too much, but TODAY, it fascinates me. I imagine the hinges, the dials moving about in constant zigzags, horizontals, verticals, and circles, never ending, all so very geometrical. Fascinating indeed.All of it so musical. It's very musical, all of it, in my head. Besides, I always like it when there is music in my head. I had seemed to have lost it for a while but TODAY, I can hear it little whispers. Very distant but it is there and it's comforting. Had you asked me two days back, I would've said that the whisper would die into nothingness but TODAY, I am sure it snow down into a blizzard, a musical blizzard. I like blizzards, A twisty twirly burst of snow and right in the middle of all the confusion there is you. THERE IS YOU!!!!!! and INDEED it is ALL very very beautiful.A voice in my head, very misleading, lost itself, but set out to guide me to the deserts of Azure. A real wild child gone astray, rolled into a cigarette and smoked into whiffs of several dying hearts, out to change the world they didn't believe in. A million strings of wonder, maniacal geniuses who ended at 28 but the whispers never stopped, like machinery, mechanically, chemically, thermally, electrically powered and frequently motorized. A following the word of the lizard king himself, even I shall turn of the lights when the music's over. Yeah.

 While trying to keep up with the ticking hands, I have left so much baggage behind. Probably, it was never needed but every now and then, like teeny tiny time machines, little blasts from the pasts, flash before my possibly blinding eyes. Watching from a distance was becoming boring and my calf muscles forever complaining for some exercise. Without a thought, just like that, I am now running along side with them. I didn’t belong, I still don’t.  Probably. And maybe it’s just on the outside it is me as them, on the inside, I mock what have now become, my foolish ways. Somehow, it’s all better this way. If the pretty white doves are mine now, I wouldn’t know, for sometimes, I still sit up and hope with my all might that this clock would somehow stop ticking. A thought that must must not be voiced for so many reasons. He screams when I do. Nerds that once rocked had met my lips, now, it’s all brinjals. I used to be pretty, now, I am all ugly. I can not lie, not on a piece of paper, there is NO guilt. Why? It IS wrong.

That monster, who I’d sit and watch is now becoming me. Oh! Mirror mirror on the wall, who is it that speaks to me from within you. All those screams, oh! so faint, what do they say? Oh! The pain clouds his face again. And the same old promise that is broken each day is made, once again. A stale beginning has been anchored to the very same point. How can it all be so different and yet feel so familiar?

After all that I have done, why do I still dream of swimming in murky waters? Where does it all end? Why doesn’t it all end?

A change in that punctuation mark, is it asking too much?