Guten Morgen!

Three beams of monochromatic light, 

Travelling parallel to each other,

Faster than the speed of sound,

At par with the speed of light.

Pierced their way through the ozone, 

For a morning premiere,

Past the ionosphere, 

Through the nebulous clouds, 

through the tree tops,

reflected here, refracted there and,

finally with fraction of the energy it had, 

entered my window, seeped through the curtains 

And caressed gently on my eyelids. 

And so ended its slightly longer than sojourn,

A tad bit draggy with all the jet lags, 

A mild discomfort of travelling miles, 

From the sun to a vision captured in my eye.

Knock knock..?

Knock knock who ?

Good Morning from infinity and beyond.

Venice, Rome or Home?

The funny thing about what you miss is that they are not something utterly complex. They are the most rudimentary things that you have been taking for granted almost throughout. Maybe the elves did it when you slept peacefully in the night and you never realized it.

And getting things straight is more difficult than solving a discrete Fourier transformation.

It’s not about just having the perfect morning coffee, but it is about keeping stock of milk, sugar to make the perfect pot of steaming hot kaapi. It’s not about just unfolding the crisp pages of the morning newspaper while sipping your coffee. It’s about getting it.

It's not about just cooking; it’s about finding the perfect pots and pans to cook them. To store them. It’s not just buying veggies, but about finding them in the fridge, fresh and green as per your whim and demands. Availability check on stocks and forecasting suddenly becomes difficult.

It’s about finding those perfect containers to keep salt, sugar, spices in. Small, medium, large size containers are suddenly very important. And guess what, they don’t materialize in the cabinet on their own. They sure don’t reproduce, but they do tend to disappear a lot. You tear open a packet but you don’t know where to store.

Segregating garbage and disposing it is a big task. Finding the most practical and easily accessible place for mops and tissues is a must.

The house mysteriously starts eating your socks. There is a hungry monster inside my washing machine which keeps eating my clothes. Any thing which comes in a pair you lose one of it. Then you buy another pair and you are left with three.

And guess what happens when you don’t keep track of things?

You have everything but you have no system in place. You skip making coffee. Tea is just not your cup of tea. You bring chopped vegetables and then forget it in fridge. Or you buy so many stuff at once thinking that you might need them, but alas..it’s just adding more to the recycled waste. Oh and you have to dispose it too! 

The fridge has lots of stuff, ice-cream, flavored curd, sauces and many more sophisticated edible items. But whola you want to have curd rice and you cannot find curd!

The tin containers with the biscuits don’t exist, but the crumbles from the last packet of Oreo’s sure does.

Perfect pots and pans are non-existent.

Salt and sugar are used directly from the packet, till you find some small container to keep it. And then you keep it in the container, and cannot find the container and go back to the packet. I don’t know why it is easy to find the packet and not the container! The dustbin overloads, till you think it’s time to throw away the waste maybe in a week.  

You will quit reading newspaper with the morning cup of coffee. Reducing on waste I say, who needs paper when you have cell phones and laptops and tablets and what not. You start to think which are the clothes that are wrinkle free so than you can just wash plus dry and look all chic and suave.

You keep buying small things like tapes, pins, markers; as and when you need, and then again misplace them. Things start mysteriously disappearing. It was right there you believe, safely kept on a side, but it is not.

What do you do??

Well, you get a rhythm, get a system, get a grip….home is home…home sweet home..

Extinct'ly Distint

It seems absolutely
interesting  and lovely,
And might I add,
Not far stretched
And opposite of lovely.
To take a walk
To the milky way
And to decipher,
The Morse code
Of the blinking stars
along the way.

But there seems to be one
Fundamental obstruction
along my way,
Distance and remoteness
Of the milky way.

The nocturnal choreography,
Seems out of the world.
As one by one stars unfurled.
Maybe that one there was
Christened after a
Charming young king.
Just because it looks
So cryptic and seducing.

There are just,
One too many..
Might as well say,
Plethora to a plenty,
Still,
Managed to count till two twenty
Then had to come to a abrupt halt
You ask me why? Because,
Ursa minor just winked,
Oh my god,
A sign so succinct,
A wink so distinct,
That it is forcing me,
To have a new instinct

If only it stopped at this,
But that's just not it,
The flaring end of a comet,
Is luring me into its orbit.
And to add more to it,
Another constellation
Of arcane irrationality,
Is tempting me to hop that way.

But there seems to be one
Fundamental obstruction
along my way,
Distance and remoteness
Of the galaxies far far way.

Well,well,
What do I do,
What do I say?
Who needs flimsy nets
Of reality anyway?

This & That

You were running late,
But then you thought,
What if I ran two blocks,
That would save time a lot.
Straight out from a movie script,
In style you hopped and skipped,
Just round the corner,
Was the place 'La'Conner.


Ruffed hair,
Wrinkled tie,
Beads of sweat,
Sun in eye.
Almost made it in nick of time,
Part of you is feeling sublime..

Alas,
Your Bella donna is already there,
Smiling her heart away
On this random musician,
Who you just hope is gay.
She looks enamoured,
The crowd seems enraptured,
Soon he ends the song,
And strums the last note,
On his willow wood mandolin...
The crowd is awe stuck in silence,
With music stuck in their soul
And then they go,
Bravo, Encore!

With the bars set high,
You walk up to her,
And look her in the eye.
You can only hope,
And prey to the sweet lord,
That solely with you would she,
Reminiscence the love song.
Lyric to lyric, chord to chord.

And as the crowd rustled by,
It seemed as though,
She was the only constant,
In the evanescent evening sky..

The silhouettes vaporize,
As you sit outside,
Still mesmerized.
Chatting with a glass of liquor,
Slowly the stars begin to flicker.
Together you stare at them,
As though they are,
Morse codes to decipher.

The silence is broken,
As the waiter drifts in,
Dinner,
Cheese, bread, Ravioli,
Tiramisu and Ricciarelli.

Ricciarelli, too fancy she says,
Ravioli,too simple you say.

And the topic drifts,
Into something as trivial as colours.
You like blue,
And she likes
Some form of red,
So you quiz,

"What is wrong with the colour blue?
Well nothing, Its just not red...
And what's so special about red?
It just doesn't make you feel the blues..!"

"So, that mug to your right, is kind of red,"
She begs to differ,
"Nah Uh, not so in my head, because,
Nowhere does it fall anywhere close,
In the spectrum of acceptable red!"

After much contemplation,
And deliberation,
Finally,you agree,
And promise to find,
That acceptable red,
And never make her feel,
The terrible blues.

You don't like this,
And she doesn't like that
But, you do mould into,
Each others yin and yang.
And fit perfectly in tandem,
Like two words, random,
Which go well together...
Like This & That

Stardust

The land of Shangri-la,
Or as they say,
The mystical land of heaven,
Was perforated.
And from in between
Those million spaces
The amateur stars,
Just tumbled and
Slipped through.

Riding on the arms
Of the squally wind.
And leaving behind
A trail of promises,
To go back.
They stumbled upon the exit,
But never found the way out.

We are made,
As the myth says,
From the dust
That falls down,
Along with the
shooting stars.
There is an
Entire universe,
Swirling within us.
And the supernova
Beating in our hearts.
The mind tuned to,
The music of the
cosmic stars.
To the rhythm divine,
You and I,
are sublime,
You and I,
Are nothing but
Stardust.....

Too Much Time To Kill

Staring at pigeons on window sill,
Have got ample time to kill...

I heard this one...cooing,
I thought,
What the hell is it doing??
Who is it wooing?
Well then, it flew..
But another one came through...
Again this one starts cooing...
Aahh who are they perusing??

These pigeons on window sill,
Have got ample time to kill.

It's just sitting there,doing nothing,
Not even caring to flap its wing.
It looks coyly to its right,
Then double coyly too its left,
Then left-right,left-right and left.
I thinks its been left bereft,
By that damsel on the other window sill,
Which too has got ample time to kill.

They have perched for hours,
Meditating on higher powers,
Standing still,doing nothing,
Like salt and pepper shakers.
That's when the damsel decided,
To cut the chase and end the pause,
Its time to take matters into her claws.
So she flew and soared and came by his side,
But then,this stupid cooing piegon,with his pride,
Strutted along,slipped and plummeted downside :P

She cooed her heart out,
Had tears of mirth I say,
That's when the pigeon one,
Swooped in...
Right next to the damsel on window sill,
Cooing together,too much time to kill!

Timeless Words Of Beauty

Words to wind the neglected corner of mind,
Words which make the neatly folded,
And creased heart of mine,
Unfold itself from within the shrine,
Without any cue on every single line.

Sometimes the heart sings in symphony...
Or sometimes it turns utterly dissonant.
With every single vowel and consonant..
It goes aaha with exclamation,
Its curls within in contemplation,
It thumps across the ribs in shock,
Goggle eyed and left to gawk.

The jaded ink stains impregnate them self..
Plain words in a book from a cobwebbed shelf.
Hiding in the veil of anonymity.
The heart gets scrambled, it gets crumpled..
Even with words that are jumbled...
Its makes you hear the beat of a foreign heart,
The spaces in time which do not prolong,
But neither do they so easily part.
Words which immortalize the fading memory,
Like those letters written from Max to Mary.
Words which bring music to your ears,
Like 'An equal Music' to drown in tears.

The heart, beats from within those pages,
To pierce right though in gradual stages.
It's just plain simple words on page,
Which remain timeless even as we age..

PS: 1. Mary and max is a clay animated movie and it revolves around being pen friends
      2. An equal music is a book by Mr Vikram Seth, a book about two gifted musicians and one on the          brink of losing her hearing.

Mornings...

And you wake up with sleepy eyes,
With residue of effervescent dreams..
Go, get up, get going, its a long day..
Outside, its still a mild shade of grey.

Rub your eyes, crack your knuckles,
Stretch, yawn, and snuggle out of bed.
Splash cold water on your face,
Shake your head and get in place.

The silence around you speaks,
The dip dip from the tap that leaks,
The squeak from the fan that creaks.
The clock that tick-tocks, tired but true.
The sound of birds who woke up with you,
The muffled footsteps, screeching door,
Distant buzz of the lift at morning four.

Brew some fresh coffee,
Let its smell wake you up.
Not too hot, not too cold,
Just perfect that you can hold.
Have it at leisure, sans any worry..
Other coffees of the day you can scurry.

The cab arrives, the driver honks,
Swing your bag and lock the main door.
Here and there you can see few souls,
Early workers, tiring off their soles.
It looks all peaceful and serenely quiet,
Empty streets will soon turn into a riot.

Music plays in the background,
Oblivious, you nod your head in rhythm,
Lost in a completely different spectrum,
About nothing and everything to come.
The destination arrives,
You swipe in at six fifteen,
Back in front of your screen.

Once bitten & Twice...?

What if you could live your life twice?

What if you get two turns to roll the dice?

Two chances to walk down the aisle..

Would you try to make things worthwhile?

You could dodge the shit that fell on your head...

Avoid your toe from hitting the corner of the bed.

Maybe you could be one step ahead,

Than what the higher spirit planned for you instead.

Would you still be in the same soulless commitment?

Live in an intellectually morbid state of discontent?

Keep of compromising to that extent,

That the flower withers off and loses its scent..

Would you try to wipe away those reasons of tears?

Live your life and repay your hearts arrears..

Would you now be strong in those moment of fears..

Knowing exactly when the phantom from the fog appears.

Will you still walk along the path which you once took?

Or will you change and unfurl pages from a new book?

Assuming that castling will always empower the rook,

And help you find direction to the origin of the brook....

PS: Questions/characters inspired by unique characters of an unique book by Mr Seth....

What is in thy 'Apple'?

What is in thy 'apple'?

I ponder and wonder,

Whike awake or in slumber.

 

So here are some interesting facts

A big juicy apple fell on newtons head!!

It didn't kill him, but we landed with gravity instead.

New Yorkers on new years eve stand in Times square,

To watch the electronic 'Big Apple' fall from midair.

Late Mr Steve also sets his 'i' on an apple,takes off a bite from it to see,

Then converts it into a logo and 'APPLE' hits the market with a spree.

 

Lets dig into mythology...

Even in fairy tales it left it's Mark,

Snow White ate half of it and slept in dark.

In the garden of Eden Adam and eve lived in peace,

But not long after they ate the forbidden apples piece.

3 golden apples cost Atlanta,the road runner of Greek,the race,

Curiosity, marriage and lust followed.she ended up with a lions face.

And how can I forget the Trojan war of Troy,

Paris should have thrown the apple when he was a boy

 

Even in childhood when asked to draw a scenery ,

Majority came up with mountains, sun and an apple tree.

Nutritional aspect, apple a day keeps the doctor away makes sense,

But the phrase apple of my eye is utter gibberish,nonsense .

 

Why can't it be the strawberry of my eye?

Or any other fruit under the blue blue sky.

What sins have the other fruits committed,

Why is the apple in our memory embedded?

 Even I of all have an apple everyday,

But only to keep hunger and fatty foods away!

What is it in thy Apple?

I ponder and I wonder!!

Snippets....

In pursuit of Happy'ness

What exactly is the meaning of Happiness?
Happiness unadulterated, happiness ineffable, happiness so pure,
That it makes every other thing seem worthwhile to endure.
Is it the feeling which comes from the coal mines of the heart,
Something soulful,something divine,something sparkling,
That it gives the darkest corners an iridescent ring..
It is something much more,
It is something much simpler..

Let Go

Hard to decide to let go,
Tough to let it go.
Strange is the feeling of letting go,
Irony is to want it back.
Complicated it is to be stuck in reverse.
Lock it in a drawer and just let go.
Until there's an excitement of a new start,
You never had actually let it go.

The Endless Wait

The doorbell rings,
And she sprints with eagerness,
But sadly she is staring into emptiness,
Her mind is playing tricks,
Again and again his absence pricks.

Another day of futile uncertainty,
The candle of hope burns a bit more,
She drowns herself in analgesic monotonous work..
As a balm for her aching heart and soul,
Like everyday tears breakdown without control.

She even tries reading that book she hated the most,
But the one he loved and kept as a treasure,
She dusts its off, reads a line or so.
Wonders is this the line he was talking about?
Realizes, she never did actually listen him out.

The silence which she loved begins to strangulate her,
His absence, the quietness drives her insane.
For once she feels truly lost.
Why cant he be home with the evening sun?
And watch the twilight as the day is done.

There are days when she drives alone,
Picks the grocery, does  the laundry..
She tries to pull herself together,
Its as invain as trying to fall upwards,
So she ends up praying at St.Edwards.

She dials in, calls a few of his comrades..
Any news she asks with faint glimmer of hope...
Alas the same answer again and again,
He and his troops are still missing..
144 days and she is left counting.

And she remembers the day he had to leave,
To fight for the nations pride as he had said..
Her auxiliary sense was ticking her off,
'Oh stop it he said, i will come back alive..
And we will go on that pending long drive..'

There isn't much that she can do,
Day and night keeps flowing with the tide,
Pangs of solicitude has driven so deep,
That some days she just can’t sleep,
And she tires herself into the voidness ...
Listening to Silent lucidity,
Drowning herself in her dreams...
In silent lucidity.....

  PS : Silent lucidity is a song by Queensrÿche

Eartho'sphere to Heaveno'sphere

You knock on the doors of heaven
You tap on the floors of hell
You kneel & beg in front of the devil
You dance in front of the angel...

You do this all in one lifetime,
At one point or other in life.
At despair,at hope,at wretchedness.
At futility, at happiness, at unknown.

In in the deep shadow of your heart,
When you are praying from your soul,
The Satan enters like a creep from nowhere,
Slamming the doors,knocking off the chair..
Trips you,makes you miss that one step on the stair,
Making you fall while you are still uttering the prayer.

Without any prior intimation..
Driving you into desperate isolation..
Messing up with your own choir of thoughts..
The angel mulls in an abandoned corner,
The Satan frolics around in mirth..
Like a dementor sucking out the happiness,
Until the light within you ignites..
Ignites like firework with a boom...
Warding off the devil to his doom,
And the angel shines through..

Cul-De-Sac

If he was a blast,
She was the light.
If he was sound,
She was his laughter.
If he was silence,
She was his thought.

That's Derek and Clara..
Best friends forever,
Drifted apart over years..
Married to different people.
Neither sad, neither happy,
Missing the zing in their lives.
With the thought....
'What if....'


Two similar people,
Who took different paths,
Living a life which seemed exquisite,
But in reality was ersatz..
The quotidian moments of life,
Was just wrinkles and creases of habit..


Six years later, a college reunion,
She hopes to see him,
He wants to hold her tight.
Age has added grace to her,
The auburn curly hair tied loose.
Age has taken away the boyish charm,
Replaced with calmness and depth.


He sees her, she walks to him,
He panics, she smiles, his lips seal.
An awkward silence,
More awkward hug.
The raspberry shampoo,
The Eau de Cologne.
The familiar comfort zone..


Reality check. Old buddies,
It's been six long years,
They have a secure life.
She has a caring partner.
He has a loving wife...
What's wrong they wonder...


In each other why do they find comfort?
Solace in the silence between them.
Why does she want to be with him?
Why did he fly 16 hrs. for a college reunion?
Was he wishing she would be there?
Just to know how is her life?
Apart from the coffee table in her backyard,
One of her desires she had shared,
Long ago, now materialized...
The proof of it on a social site,
As she sipps coffee with Ryan...
Was there a glint of sadness in her eyes?
Or was he reading too much between the lines...
Why did he see himself in Ryan's place?
The coffee table,the Rose shrubs on the side...
Perfect as she wanted it to be....
Happily married he sighed...


She saw him.Clumsiness gone,now replaced,
with Chivalry, very conscious of her,
What was it in him that made her laugh?
That made her feel light as a feather,
When he spoke her name in his deep voice,
A voice she had heard a thousand times,
And yet today when he called her name,
Oh she fell for him like timber.
She was falling and he was gravity.
It's stupidity, it's absurd, it's wrong.


She was sailing smooth in the flow,
Now caught in the narrow reflux of memory lanes.
A whirlpool of thoughts..
If her life was plotted on an axis,
She was at a point of intersection,
Of the past, the present and future.



He felt choked by looking at her,
The words never left his mouth,
Smothered by her smile and calmness.
They talked, she spoke, he listened,
And in the deepest chambers of his restless heart,
Dichotomy of feelings engulfed him..
And he drowned in them,
Like a swollen tide gently closes over a stone..



Time elapsed...,
He saw the sunset in her eyes..
Time stood silent,
The beauty of dusk dawned
Time seemed inaccessible..
Just like the distant mute stars..
Pinned to the surface of the sky...
It was time to say goodbye......
Time to walk away into the heart of setting sun..





Courtesy – Mr Vikram Seth

Death..

What do you do when you know death is looming near,
And it is not death that you actually fear.
The thought that you will loose an entity as a whole,
That the person would have floated away as a soul.
Out of space,memories drifted behind..
Just empty space and vacuum left behind.
A figure which existed in true sense
To be disintegrated in endless time

How must it feel for the person you wonder,
To wish the end for the monotony of ailing time...
To wish that endless oblivion lasts forever..
To agonizingly wait for death to knock on the door..
To end the suffering and wanting no more..
When the person wants the remaining days to lapse,
Hoping tomorrow may bring the end perhaps..



Everyone comes down here with quota of days,
It is imminent and you can't run away..
And you feel guilty for not having a ray of hope...
No matter how hard you try the person slides off the slope.
When the sunken hollow eyes bore into your heart,
The feeble voice makes you feel miles apart.

Everyone questions,what are the chances?
I know the answer but I dread to accept it,
I want the person to stay,
I want the person to be free.
I don't want them to fight the nightmares in their head,
I feel guilty for having such thoughts...
But I question is it worth the suffering and pain..
The diverse thoughts is difficult to explain.
Who am I to fight against the odds,
Who am I to decide the odds?

Ripped Apart

I have no idea what the world is coming to,

A 12 year old executed in broad daylight,
Five bullets ripped him through...
What did he do to deserve such a plight?
The end of a tunnel with no light.

One bullet for the nations pride,
Second bore hole in humanity,
Third tattered the faith off mankind,
Fourth screamed cold blooded murder,
The fifth and he breathed his last.

As the cold winds in his face blew,
The look in his innocent eyes,
Butchered before he even knew,
Blue skies or just blatant lies,
I have no idea what the world is coming to...



PS: With reference to the article
http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/govttrade-unions-talks-fail-stir-as-scheduled-on-feb20-21/article4425222.ece?homepage=true

The Lost Spark

I once knew a girl,
Bubbly, smart with dreams in her eyes,
Wanting the same things as I do.
To live life with a zing,
To have an identity of her own,
But suddenly out of the blue,
She had to bid her dreams adieu,
The ones she wanted to pursue.

Because a wonderful thing happened,
She married and left everything behind,
Starting her life in a new avenue.
And all her dreams were sealed in a box,
And I waited for her to open it again,
The core essence of a person doesn't change.
I thought may be she's keeping her dreams in queue,
After all marriage is one of the best things to happen to you.

Gradually she kept throwing things out of her life,
Started with her thoughts,her hobbies,her dreams.
And I kept on urging her to not lock herself in..
To not suffocate herself from within.
Apparently she says that's the right thing to do,
Everyone's happy she said, knowing it's not true.

We live in a place where,
If a woman is independent,
Its assumed she is over smart.
If she has her own mind,
She is supposed to be bold.
If she is serious about career,
She won't be a good mother.
If she has a passion for a hobby,
She doesn't give time to family.


We live in a hypocritical place,
In a sonorous labyrinth of ideologies,
And she got lost in it..
Instead of living the amazing journey,
The journey just made her give up every part of her,
For a destination which is a myth.
Succumbed to the point that I don't recognise her..
Not sad, but neither does she have a happy glow,
In a relationship where they both are supposed to grow,
But she is covered in a thick carpet of snow
And I am hoping for all that I know,
That the snow will soon melt,
And she will come out of the shadow..

Sunscreen On The Moon

A place where there is hope,
A place where there is light,
Where silence sings into space....

Where is this place you ask?
Somewhere high up the slope..
Or somewhere to climb with a rope?

It is a sacred plain which causes delight,
Where a million stars twinkle at night.
An alluring invincible fortress at place,
A beacon of radiant hope to embrace...
A place with no crevices in time,
A place which might be the perfect paradigm..
Wrapped in the cocoon of enchanting silence,
In between life and light,it is full of suspense.
An epitome of mystery, metaphor, love and fiction,
A timeless beauty to be moon struck with intoxication.
Different version it takes every single day,
A bite of it without fail somebody takes away.
Bright and dark; beautiful and non existent,
It is too near and yet,too far and distant.


In dream airlines an exquisite voyage to the moon,
Like a silver surfer to surf across the moon.
Every single day it suffers from the sun's wrath,
Nevertheless it continues solely on its own path.
May be to apply some sunscreen on its dry surface,
Prevent it from getting tanned and losing its pearly grace!!

A Reason

Do we always need a reason ?

A reason to believe..
A reason to trust?

Logic builds the reasoning,
An impulse refutes the logic.
You can't argue, you can't question,
Sometimes it's just easy to accept.

To accept that there are times when music goes into space,
The kaleidoscope of patterns don't leave an image.

That words have no meaning until you give it to them,
That the most small things can bring a smile,

That an Utopian way of life needs continuous adjustments.

That sometimes tears don't need a reason,
To accept that two parallel lines shall only meet at horizon.
That uninhibited laughter won't take you to treason,
That a White maruti omni is ominous without reason.

That Murphy's law shall never cease to apply,
That bulls eye doesn't mean a bull in eye,
Pet peeves cause annoyance,but you don't know why.

That hatred can be ignited just by a spark,
But difficult to keep the spark of love..
Even though it should be the other way round,
But they both speak in the silence of sound..

And you still are left searching for a reason,
Because it is just difficult to accept,
That sometimes acceptance is the key,
However much you hate to disagree.

Happy New Year

Of party invitations there is no dearth,
I think I am the most boring person on earth.

All I prefer is to go straight home,
Instead of having drinks full of foam.

I am a lazy person you can say,
Be new years eve or dooms day.

I wouldn't care a centipedes shit about some party,
Loud music,sweaty people is not exactly  dandy.

Exposure to loud music dislocates my brain,
Disintegrates it to finest level of molecular grain.

Zooming motorbikes and bellowing cars,
Surrounded by rings of jupiter and heavy stars.

Gosh! I am missing so much of fun,
Sob..I mean it with no intended pun.

Quiet place, few people quality time..
Senseless fun for no season or rhyme.

Yep, I am a lost cause with no hope,
You are free to hang me by a rope.