Winter's coming over

Kuch log rooth kar bhi

Lagtay hain kitnay pyare.

The answer my friend

Is blowin' in the wind.

Ever wondered where all the hate, love and indifference comes from? All the facets of emotion. Of things we 'feel'. Something neurotic. Something to do with the ball of nerves sitting up above your eyes. 

Ofcourse I am feeling so much. Yet, I am saying nothing.

My tongue is locked. My hands are hand-cuffed.

I am numb.

Gripping irony, scintillating horror pushing its limits. New and unimagined fears cascading my tomorrow. My present has been jeopardized by the threads of existence. Like thrashing drums bombarding my ear-drum-skin with a moment so hard-hitting, it stings, it hurts, it pains, it pierces. It is fatal, in the moment.

Change, you ask? What graceful talks I present to you, when its time to let you know? What moment of truth shall I reveal when its time to reveal it all. And I let the little buzzing noise control me, take over me. I am asking for peace from something that is not ready to give it away. I am thinking what I don't have to think. I am a loser, because I am looking at lands that do not mean anything. So what do we do now?

Winter's coming over. I am looking back one year ago. Life was so strange. So different. Am I wishing for those times again? Am I working like I used to work? Am I the person I used to be?

Questions that will eat the inside of me. Carve out a place out of me. And take me away from me.

Please let it stop.

Phir milay ya na milay

Because I was sick of being so sad, empty and lonely for so long. I wanted to write, and write I did.

-thisisrandomshititypedat5inthemorning.

Phir milay ya na milay

Your reflection etched upon the stretchy canvas 

Pure white light streaming through a hole pricked into oblivion 

Radiance of the soul, emanating through hordes of blackened trees and boulders 

Shimmering light bulbs, switching off with the cast of the Sun, down 

How deep the ocean trudges down

How simple your words are to me 

I keep a watch, I keep a distance 

Rolling belief in the herein staggers me 

Like birds flocking together to tell their tales 

Tales of hunting down a prey, a game 

Words of threat, of words, words and words 

Like you, I melt, lost

(24th November, 2011)

I'm ill, so I need some violins, choruses and lyrics to get through, yeah.

Title parh lein. No explanation, please?

Currently listening to:

The end. :O

This came up at such an appropriate time. I have an exam tomorrow, and I am wasting time. Hahaha. Hit me in the face. But I am ill :(

Pink Floyd. Enough said.

And then this. Sigh. I need a brilliant piano/violin cover to listen to soon.

Annnnd, suggestions?

Fall Acts

And again, something ordinary has inspired me beyond my own active realization. Pictures, and the stories that they enclose in them are wondrous mysteries that one wants to unfold sometimes. What was a person thinking while clicking a moment with a particular angle and frame? What was going on in his/her mind when the shot came out? What hidden scenarios that place must have encountered countless times before? What people might have been around before, and who will inhabit it afterwards? Millions of questions, all jumbled up into one slice of photographic evidence.

Three paths. Three feelings. Three answers.
Picture: LOVE.

Fall Acts

Sitting on those rosy, christened seats

Seats of remembrance and a past flickering with a smile on my face, and you look back.

Back from the moments that were, and the moments we fought for

Could you say you loved them, you wanted more of them, and you lost because you never found them your own?

And I could forget you, like leaves falling on the ground

With their past severed off them, their stories now forgotten, their place in the world now discounted.

And I could look at you and cry, while you still stand above me

With your ways unfathomed, your eyes unrelenting, and your hands conjuring up tales I cannot see anymore.

And I could come back and haunt you, while you discover who I really was

And you think of the pain, the feeling of rotten desires that you made me suffer, of the time that I wanted to end it all.

Of fall, and the leaves that keep falling, and erasing my feelings

Of the symphony of Nature, and the peace that it keep emanating

Of my reassurance to myself, to my faith, to my soul

That a new day will come

Let’s sit here

Let’s forget here.

Like the fallen leaves that are forgotten

Let me be a memory that you have shed this autumn

And let winter come, and take it all away

For I was but a season, for which I stayed

And when that mist takes over your mind

Frisk it away, but I shall be gone.

Because I choose to move with the winds in here

I choose to sway with the emotions traveling in the air

I am a passive existence in the wooden chairs beneath the trees

I am the terracotta smell in the tiles beneath your feet

I am the lamppost; I am the brown of the bark of the tree you scratch your hand on

And then it rains, you run for cover

You forget your place; your senses are aloof to the mystery that it enshrouded

It held my feelings, cupped in a bottle of the fall morphing into winter

And the fog grasped all the tears into a cascading drop of remorse on your face.

You choose to stride on the path that leads no where

You choose the path that means nothing to me

You are lost; you are swirling round and round in a conundrum in my mind

For my mind knows not, the last path that you choose

It leads to a place, I cannot go.

So I let go.

The waters that fall from the gray skies

The leaves that turn brown, orange and other murky colours

The trees that age right before our lives

The haunting silence and the cries of the wind when it blows

For all that this moment holds in itself

I let you go.

You choose your path, while I stand rooted on my own.

(10^th November, 2011)

Leaves are on the ground. And my presence permeates around here.

 Picture courtesy: Bilal H. Asad.
- I love the pictures. Thank you for giving me something inspirational; something to write about. :)

Running in Circles

You could mean that much to me. And you could be that special. Like the hands on the clock ticking my time away, you could be that person wasting my life away. Like the stones in my way, no stories or names on them, but they waste me away. Or you could be that flower I look at, touch, smell and smile at. Idyllic, yes. Dreamy, hell yes. But its time to feel again, see. It's time to be me again, see. I wish I could see through you, and through me. Through and through. I am still finding you. I am still deciphering who I want to set apart.

Could this be it? Could I have found someone who knew me? But you still don't know what hit you.

- You could so easily stop living and die. It would hurt me so much less.

- You could just stop by and smile. That would be enough. Or just utter a word of thanks for all I did for you. Or just stop and look by. Or you could just stop living as well. It would still hurt so much less.

- You're funny sometimes.

- You have been a subliminal message for me from some time that has passed by. A message from the heavens, a message so divine. You make me feel special, yes you do. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You could mean so much to me, you don't know.

- You. You. Oh, you. *smiles*

- Change, is not what I want. You could change, and that would end it all.

- Hahahahaha.

- You confuse me. And still, you're part of the entity that essentially defines me. How could I detach myself? I could not, I should not. I still don't know you.

- I wish I could feel what you feel. Tell me, maybe? But that would ruin so much. That would break the bridges we built. That would free the birds we hold in our hands and call our own. Yes, you make me laugh. You make me feel home. But is that okay, now? When you want to burn the world down right now? Is it okay to joke around you right now? How do I know what you want? You could be breaking down inside, and I wouldn't know. And that is what is troubling me. But I never wanted any trouble.

- How? What? When? What? Thank you for ruining so many lives. What would you end up doing more? Cuz you've got time on your hands, yes.

- And its all so funny. None of this is actually affecting me. When it should. When I do think about it. When I do have concerns. When I am questioned. But, no. That's not how it is, that's not the way of the world.

- Screw so many things.

- Hey, you. I wish I could erase so much you felt. I wish I could mean what I actually said to you. Believe, and all will be good. I hope so, atleast.

- Oh how I wish you would mend your ways. You should be drawing much bigger circles, giving time to so much more. But you're lost in a conundrum of thoughts that aren't you. I wish you could rediscover who you are. Are you all yellow, then?

- Just come by quickly. One of these days, I might give up. Not on life, not on my dreams, not on my name, but on you.

- Do the stars still shine? And do they shine for us?

- I think too much, perhaps. I wish I would unthink so much of what I have masterfully conjured up in this ball of neurons and grey matter.

- How would it feel to unthink? To not know what you know. To see you as someone I don't know. I wish so much.

- I guess I can love you. I would lose nothing. I think.

- I want it now. I want to see some light shining at the end of the road. I can't travel at night all my life.

- Home? Which home?

- I know what's wrong. Dammit.

- I want to continue. But I should stop. I might say too much.

- I want to close my eyes, and smile. Dream of things that make me feel good about myself.

- Secrets, and little hands holding me. You should not be harmed of the ways of the world. It's too cruel out there.

- For you, anything. I still believe. I still hold that much hope inside me. I still am impregnated with wonder and vision, hope and dreams, laughter and words that can save us. All of us. We might break apart by distance, by situations, by people, but I would still hold onto you. Through that thread of unsimulated thoughts and half-seen dreams. I could be you, that you that you want. You could be you, that you that I want.

- We could all fly away into skies that we dream off. But we need to stand on a ground that looks upto that sky. But fly away anyway, you might just meet me up there in unknown skies. Chance, is all that I can think of right now. And I know I am not thinking straight.

- Looking at words, that are not mine, that mean nothing at all. But they help, yes they do.

*sigh*

None of this is permanent. Things will change. People will die inside, and people will be born again. I am not sad. I am just happy about thinking about things too much. I could win, you see.

You don't have to worry though. All is calm right now. The silence before the storm?