a long walk back...

we all deserve a second chance don't we?
or then a third and a fourth and then endless possibilities of forgiving and forgetting in a puzzle of our lives.
every step i took up that hill i knew i was moving away from you. gradually. slowly. and with as much purpose as i could possibly breathe in. don't try to fix me i'm not broken.
i am your lie living for you so you can hide.
live and keep talking.
and then the peak. and the sheer exhaustion. the realisation that we must climb down again. into the nothingness of life and scorn and the shipwreck of life's esteems.
for all the endless lines i had penned on your pages with red ink...one yours and one mine and then one yours again. don't be hurt. of course we will do this tomorrow again. and then one day the section of that notebook shall race to halt and we won't know how to carry on or whether to carry on at all.
we shall look at each other lost and disoriented and hope that one of us would turn the page and start the next section. and our hands will not budge. though in our minds the next lines are already written. signed. sealed.
this is my long walk back.
days of listening to stories that are not mine and wondering how i fit into that. but i am as much a part of it as the words that narrate it. i will hear you out. because there is a reason why you turned to me. i will never fail you when it comes to that. i will hear you.
now.
tomorrow.
and forever.
as long as i may breathe in purpose to give you hope that someone is listening.
so what if that someone is just me...?

esc

rain clouds and the absence of sun.
tears dry on eyelashes.
the fragile petals of the parted lips whisper silence.
dry. parched. drowned.
this is me then.
the broken fragments of a dysfunctional life.
abundant love. love made and snatched away between the messed up sheets and fragrant pillows.
the bloodline of royalty from slashed wrists.
regal. pampered. deprived.
this is not me then.
esc.

the man who would not be shot

this is about one person. i do not have the liberty to name him or to put his picture up here. maybe i will- but that is left for decision once my discourse has been completed.
he is the man who would not be shot. in his raging existance he denies everyone around him an impression of himself. no one is allowed to claim him, or his shadow. he couldn't allow that. he was under tremendous social pressure to appear the way he does. confusing and so terribly stubborn. maybe marginally deranged.
but purely in appearence. purely.
he may have deined me the most basic joy of having a picture of his and saving it as a contact picture etc, etc, etc. but he has allowed me to look inside his psyche. why? i don't really know. but i am glad i looked.
he has loads of photographs with those he calls friends. and maybe in time he will allow us the priviledge of being called his friends. maybe it will be worth the wait. maybe not. maybe he will deny all claims. as always.
but without taking offence at his behaviour i proceed to write about what i have found inside. no absurdities.
a soul that survives on dark prophesies and fragments of himself being torn out to give to people. a human being who is scared to love for he fears the hatered that follows love.
to explain-
when you love someone so deeply that the beloved becomes something you are wierdly possessive about. you become so possessive that your life spins out of control and hurles itself mercilessly against stone walls of reality. and shatters to sharp shards of pure hate. so much so hate that you want to destroy a beautiful thing. so horribly fight club- strange- but true. but what our man here does is- tears graffiti -that he has himself created. perfect and so devastatingly beautiful.
he wants love. he wants friends. but he won't reach out. he fears the cycle of love, hate and torn graffitis. it's natural. we are all allowed that much fear.
there are moments that words and tears slip out. doped or not. sober or not. and unfortunately i have chronicled them in my head somewhere. and the idea that he way ever draw strength from me over whelms me to tears. not that i don't want to be his strength. i fear that my strength will not be enough.
and the day he turns to me- we shall exchange places. if he would let me be him. it is just that- i understand. i understand every displaced emotion and every hate mail. i understand the solitude and the fear of being alone. i understand the chessboard patterns.
for the rest of us- we are greys. the man who wouldn't be shot is just black and white.

reality.tv.show.

you are not your mistakes.
you are not every man and you are not me.
but you will know when the world screeches to a deathly halt and you shiver out of fear and helplessness rather than the cold.
it has happened to me not once but times over.
and it will happen again.
the tight dryness in your throat and the tears that won't come out, agony, shame and the absence of arms around the shaking shoulders.
when she spoke i felt the blood rushing to my feet. i felt drained and blank. like every last breath in my body had been battered out with a blow. just one hard blow. she cried. i hugged her tight and kept telling her that it was ok. it was ok. always. would be ok.
i would not forgive myself for lying and holding my tears back till she left. and when she left. i broke down.
i cried cupious tears of anger and shame. and the person responsible was blissful. unaware.
at that instance all my faith and all my dreams were being raped to reality. brutally. bleeding like fresh knife wounds on the skin. someone held me. someone put her hand on my head and told me that it would be ok.
of course it would be ok.
it would always be ok.
when i lifted my tear stained cheeks i swore that i would not love again but inside my psyche the need to be loved was haunting. i probably needed to be held more than ever. ever in my life.
it is hard. it always always is so hard.
but then...
your doors are always open for me.
right.

its like that

Today i have no pictures to put with this blog.
Today i have nothing to do after i switch the computer off.
Today i have no feelings to put to sleep when the lights go out.
some one told me today that the lights were a celebration that i was. and i sat in the glory of those lights for as long as my drooping eyes allowed me.i felt so lonely. i wondered why i had fought tooth and nail for people who didn't feel the same way and why was i scared of bad karma?
well...there are bad people aren't there...and nothing bad happens to them...then why me?
no...indeed nothing has happened to me yet.
the last time i had checked i was sitting on the steps of the school of languages staring up at the graffiti on the towering walls hoping that he would stop and sit with me. but he left.
isn't that obvious?
the planes flew low over head and the puppies tripped over their own clumsy feet while trying to follow the mother around.
i want to go home.
not home...but i want to go away from here. all this confusion and faltering self esteem. i want to sleep without having to worry about waking up. i want to sit down and eat with people i know. for once i don't want to feel so badly lost.
i want to cry and not alone.
crushes should not happen to people over the age of 21...its illegal and pathetic.

All my life I've been waiting
For you to bring a fairytale my way
Been living in a fantasy without meaning
It's not okay, I don't feel safe
I don't feel safe...

Left broken empty in despair
Want to breathe, can't find air
Thought you were sent from up above
But you and me never had love
So much more I have to say
Help me find a way

And I wonder if you know
How it really feels
To be left outside alone
When it's cold out here
Well maybe you should know
Just how it feels
To be left outside alone
To be left outside alone...

"Golden October gliding by
A misty veil she casts around...
The leaves against the hazy sky
Are flittering to the ground..."

I can't figure out the very reason why i lugged two huge pieces of luggage all across the bloody city to get onto a train with BAD co-passengers, 27 odd hours in boring circumstances to come all the way here to rot in splendor.
I really cannot figure out.
I have not studied a word...or worked on my assignment...at this rate i want to do well in my courses.
Irony.
All I have really done is been very very angry at people...of all sizes and relations. And shouted at everyone and been very very very moody.
The joys of it all I tell you.
This cannot be pujo can it?
All the unbelievable noise and the traffic and the crowds?
The sweat and the long lines.
This year I don't even have new clothes. At i don't even feel like going shopping. That is new!!
I didn't go out with my friends for they are all so busy with their own lives that I can't seem to be fitting in anywhere. And I can't really complain because it is work for some and compulsion for others.
when you find no solace in the prayers of the priests or the flowers at the goddesses' feet where do you go?

Glass Shards

Some things lay broken in a desolate heap near the bin. They reflected the light off a smile or a more frequent frown and then slipped into silence and darkness. And no one cleared the mess away. After all its always easier to shout and scream than really do anything about it..right?
So what if the whole house burnt down?
No. Obviously it doesn't matter.
And so they told me that this was not my place any longer and the heap of broken things grew dangerously higher. Piles and piles of long battered thoughts and hopes and esteems.
I am so happy that i have an option. But why revel in that?
Why not revel in the talks of friends and the happiness of being pampered silly?
What am I talking about? The language of the escapist? And of dark clouds that are limited only to their own heads?
Going...going...gone.
And the pile of things i was ranting about...that was just glass. What relationships today are made of.

some roads lead nowhere...and you do walk on those.

Some days ago I had left my house, the place that is home with all its familiarity. The laughter and the fights. The dog and the neighbour upstairs who hates her. The siblings and the mother. The granny and the cakes.
But this is not about the left over dregs of homesickness, for me and my friends have cried ourselves to silence over the last few months. We are no longer home sick but will jump to the proposal of going home, not thinking that for years we had plot our get aways.
So is the irony of our age.
And now its all gone. The roads graze dense undergrowth and run past historical monuments. The city seems to have enclosed us in mile high red brick walls and placed our semester texts in front of us. You no longer can leave. Well not at least right now. Day in and day out we trudge uneven paths to the desks and pitch our intellect against the walls of tradition and the rocks. They shatter and fall into pieces that become our alter egos. The guy who is too arrogant to make any friends and the girl who gets all the men. There is a bit of us in every other face of that hand picked 35 from across the country and the world. Yet we know that we all are skilled politicians and veteran liars. So what if we are this young?
There are the bad habits which is considered to be escape routes and relationships that are built and broken over night. And who knows one day we might get dragged into this and become cosmopolitan. But mind you, we swear that we won't. Never, Never, Never!
And then they tell you that everything you ever learnt is just a farce and now they will teach you about Life, Universe and Everything. And all you need is a towel and a hostel room.
These are the roads that lead to nowhere. Ans these are the roads on which i am leaving reluctant footprints.

Cross roads

Thoughts move apart and lives move apart. Love becomes a monotony and an apathy. You care because it is routine and nothing affects you anymore. No jealousy, no anger, no interest but simply the absence of any better feelings.
We are standing at cross roads. You and I. And after all twists and turns this is where our life has come to a halt. Well, not a halt but more an obvious conclusion to all that has happened in our past.
And we have no where more to go. It is either we choose different paths here or disappear somewhere amidst shadows and tears. You choose or I choose.

There are strange ways...

There are strange ways how life works out. I don't believe in destiny but somehow i like the feeling of complacency that i am entitled to for i believe that things that happen were simply meant to be.
It's easier that way. Seriously.
Every little event, every fight, every tear and every prize is a part of a bigger plan and since i am no one in particular i can simply let it happen.
But the most unnerving are the dreams.
Every dream with some fragment that are etched onto my mind stay there for days driving me absolutely insane till another such dream comes along.
I think of it...keep wondering...imagine how the dream would have been if i had not woken up...and forget that reality still runs around me.
Very few of these dreams have people i know very well...most have people i do not know or know very vaguely.
That is strange. And all i do is think.
Of dark corridors and bus trips that never end or of deaths and lots of tears...and comfort on a shoulder that is not familiar...

Footsteps

Traced on the wet sand with fingertips
As I followed you along the waves in twilight
You never looked back and you never knew
That the tears were turning to foam.
My love followed me quite as the clouds
And lost his way in a desert storm
But your footsteps remained etched on by me
And we walked on forever.
Here a shell and there a pebble,
Disturbed by the sound of your feet
Touched me in lazy hope of dream renewal
And I promised
That I would return to put them to sleep.
And they whispered his name to keep me from going.
The echoes grew and faded away like the receding tide waters.
Your footsteps remained on my fingertips…
The sand ready for your next touch.
And days passed in silent walks along the shores on the universe…
And stars shone down with quiet contempt at the souls that left the earth.
The shells and the pebbles never slept again.
And he waited no more.
The footsteps and you lay scattered on the beach in a shipwreck of my life’s esteems.

Days go by and still...

You.
You.

You are still a whisper on my lips
A feeling at my fingertips-
That's pulling at my skin.

You leave me when I'm at my worst,
Feeling as if I've been cursed,
Bitter cold within.

Days go by and still I think of you...
Days when I couldn't live my life without you...
Days go by and still I think of you...
Days when I couldn't live my life without you...
Without you...
Without you...
Without you...
Without you.

And then the words became true. I never found out whether i could or couldn't live without you because i left. I left the chair empty and the smell of my skin on fingertips that didn't touch you. Ever.
And there was so much left lingering in the air between us that would lose itself in the play of rain and sunshine and your absence. I know you won't be there when i return. It's not possible.

deja vu...

Then it happened again.
Those obsessive thoughts again.
This time i braved the waters and came but you weren't there.
In the darkness i wanted to see your face. I wanted to hear you breathe, just to pacify me and to tell me that you were listening to me.
But these thoughts are mine.
And i can't let you know.

the weatherman...

Have you seen the raindrops streaking past the window?
Roll down the glass and feel them strike the puddles.
Know that tonight the dreams will come dark and heavy as you may try and sleep.
We parted ways today...
Only to meet tomorrow.
I didn't want to brave the water,
Or the grey skies,
Or the cold of the wet clothes,
To get myself to you...
I wasn't sure if you were there waiting for me to come and take my chair in your heart.
Let it be till the next monsoons when i may be sure that the waters won't reach me...
Or you...
Or the cat that was stuck on the ground floor railing.
Peering down at the swirls below.
So i didn't come.
Dream of the smell of earth and rain and running around empty hotel corridors...
Wondering why you kissed me.
Because we parted ways today...
Only to meet tomorrow.
Days have passed and the emptiness has grown while i wonder how your touch feels
On My skin through my clothes.
I look at your hands and wonder how it would be to hold them...
While lightning thunders outside.
I am not in love yet.
Or again.
For i don't know you...
Or the thoughts that streak your eyes when you look at me and talk of things you don't believe and can't imagine.
But you fit into my jigsaw like you always were there.
Look up at me and tell me that my dreams are nothing but reflections
That are becoming visions in your head...
While lightning thunders outside and the coffee becomes cold.
Haunt my days...
And let me be your darkness at nights that are passing...
Because we parted ways today...
And what if it rains tomorrow?

are you nobody as well?don't tell anyone...they will advertise!

who are you?
nobody?
oh!you are nobody as well??
well then..that makes two of us!!
do not tell anyone...they will advertise....

do briefs have to be given in boardrooms when there are no board meetings on?
do i get to look at you and wonder why you called me there alone?
do i pay attention to your words or to your eyes?

thank you for the pictures kid!!this could not have been done without you...

you photograph beautifully..

good job!!tell your mom

where do you stay?

look...i am not dancing anymore....

giving up something that made up for so many other things in life.and i miss it so much...
a new journey has begun and no longer can those avenues be treaded. but why not?
they all know the answers a tad bit too well.

let me go...

Take my hand my dear
We know that the time it is near
Be strong and be brave,my dear
Let me go now,let me go

How it came to this
It's not clear
Long and lonely nights
Now I fear
Though I need your hand to hold,
My dear
Let me go now,let me go
Let me go now,let me go

Take my hand my dear
We were drifting year after year
When we tried our best to fly,my dear
Let me go now,let me go

How it came to this
It's not clear
Long and lonely night
Now i fear
Be strong and be brave
My dear
Let me go now,let me go
Let me go now,let me go

Oh how ingenious the centuries of lies...

i feel like being torn between the past and the present.every living day and every moment that passes.
today as i passed by the lakes on my way to office i saw a boat leaving for the race.they had a separator between the courses that we never had.i just started thinkin about our race back in 2001..and how i had felt when we had won.
i started crying.i remembered that mum had refused to show me her face till the race was over cuz she thought that i might lose.
i don't know why i cried and they weren't tears that just welled up and then dried away.they actually ran down my face before i could stop them.
i do not know what i was missing.whether it was the feel of winning the race or the feel of being an entirely different person altogether.and i was scared of the person i was now.and i thought how i couldn't think with out looking back at my past and franctically searching for some answers that i left behind with my school badges and chest numbers.
where are those days?when everything made so much more sense and no one played tug-of-war with me?
a new day in a new office where i was made into a person that i am not...not yet.and i didn't know what to say.i sat there looking around the new place and trying to not feel that cold.for a moment i wanted to run back to my old office and plop down between the ppl i knew..but i couldn't..i wasn't allowed.
i missed the dates for delhi..and everything hangs on the balance...one result.just one result.
and i cried.why did i cry?

ENNUI...

I don't know how may games of solitaire i have played since morning!!!
And how many times i have had to deal my cards again...
this is classic boredom...just to get a damned letter days are being passed at a handicapped snail's pace to oblivion.
maybe things will never be this way again. and the day will come when i won't have time to breathe...but today is not that time...today is just another pointless day...just another one.
there is no work to be done...what ever had to be done has been accomplished at record speed for this agency and submitted exactly 5 minutes before lunch officially ended while the stalwarts sat in the boardroom feasting on rice and fish for their high class luncheon. and talked about kids and motion sickness.
my eyes are closing down...i cannot sit here longer and pretend to find bengali translations for obsolete words...and i can't leave...
they won't let me leave...

set me free...

no one insisted on this.
no one thought it was important enough to ask me whether i wanted to be me or not.
no one wanted to set me free.
grow up in a set of lies..believing for all the moments that passed away that life would change some way.
i did not grow up wrong..but i learn't to accept early enough that somethings looked good only...only in know it sounds cliched but..in books..
maybe that is why these people wrote books like that!!they are depraved souls as well!
i do not know whether i have been who i wanted to be all these years or am i a prototype of a mould life had created for the likes of me..shapeless mass of under used energy.
yes..throughly under used..
but after a long time i realize that i am spent...what i had is no longer there..what remains in a mellowed down..grown up facads of that same girl who blindly wanted to be someone.
we grow up too fast now a days..and if you are like me..you will back out at sometime..realising that you have grown up way too fast and then stop wanting to knock yourself out at this throttling pace of things around you..
i want to stop..
i have stopped..
but the things around me have not..
and thus..i can't either..
i have other plans now..for what lies ahead..
i do not want things to be this way..i am just getting started..

starting off...

It rained so hard today..just kept raining..and i didn't believe that i had to get out of bed and go to office....this just is not fair...i mused..i whined..and dove deeper into the covers...
i quit..i wanted to say that i am quitting already..
but i am just starting off....

the journey.....

I was a listener on the woods,
I was a gazer at the stars,
I was not blind where secrets were concerned,
I was silent in a wilderness,
I was talkative among many,
I was mild in the mead-hall,
I was stern in battle,
I was gentle towards allies,
I was physician of the sick,
I was weak towards the powerful,
I was not parsimonious lest I should be burdensome,
I was not arrogant though I was wise,
I was not given vain promises though I was strong,
I was not unsafe though I was swift,
I did not deride the old though I was young,
I was not boastful though I was a good fighter,
I would not speak about any one in thier absence,
I would not reproach, but I would praise,
I would not ask, but I would give.

Cormac Mac CuileannáinKing and Poet of Cashel, AD 836-903