The Fire and the Tenderness

What more will they tell you?
Don't let rain drops fall on you. I rather be wet than feel the rain.
I rather cry with you and not be embarrassed of making a fool of myself.
I rather give myself completely and share every song, note and memory than hold within and be a miser. I rather let the wind blow my hair than shut the windows.

With every passing day the sweet citrus smell was spreading across my garden and lighting up my courtyard. But when I knew that my lemon tree was struggling to stay alive, I believed that one day the smell of the lemons will choke my heart.

I demand no explanation if they are alive today just the way I demand no explanation of the many nights they did not blossom and I was not aware.
I do not demand a "Why" as I have faith in Life.

I know you came for a reason, to build me up and show me the things about myself that I forgot to notice.

Colours cannot always be Gray, they turn Sepia and new hues arrive.
Or is this permanency?

If you are a sailboat, I will sail you to the shore....

Spring is early this year and I sing the song of homecoming to my city of joy and hope. An apprehension hard to fathom and yet strangely peaceful. In the midst of the deafening noise of my city, how do I win over the sound of my silence?
Life as I experience is both ether and fire with equal portion of tenderness and passion. It has always been that way. That's all I have ever known. While with every passing year, little by little I have come to know myself, I have also let go. The past is no more and the future I have not seen. My present is  my window to life I have always had faith and believed I can reach out to. So have I then paid all my dues? Is this the equilibrium?
The bird who dreamt to fly and be free is strangely not lonely anymore. Freedom and bond can co-exist. This freedom is like sweet nothings as I take on the winch and gibe through the winds to sail you to the shore. I learnt to sail, albeit it took long. But I don't ask for forgiveness for the waiting. This is how it was meant to be !

My Vantage Point

Unless I write about my travel experience it does not culminate to reality. It stays as sleepwalking .

All around me the more I see , I feel like I never went to school. The alphabets look like calligraphy to me and dialogues as the Urdu poetries I never understood when I was young.

But something that stands out is the undistinguishable smile, warmth and sense of being human.

Unlike London I am never left alone. While I sit in this cafe with my hot chocolate and typonita ( cheese pie) I have been approached by at least 5 people wanting to strike a conversation in the last 30 minutes. It's my loss that I can only smile and in very broken words express my inability to communicate in words .What I leave behind is a warm smile in return. Goodbye till we meet again..

Time for some ‘Delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol’

I have never been drawn to the cannabis world. Didn’t feel the need to be STONED. Why do I need some chemicals to ‘tickle’ my brain cells and ‘receptors’ for getting high? I am High anyway.

Socially maladjusted and emotionally troubled people get drawn to marijuana and find it soothing. It makes one worthless and sluggish, so I heard from some not so near one.

Now that’s a challenging opinion. Let’s rebel without a cause.
And so I set off from the beautiful Keukenhof gardens to the exotic Coffee shops.

I had heard marijuana makes people go crazy. Being a mildly risk-averse individual, sensible as they call it, I did not want to take any chances, especially with so many “commitments” pipelined. Packed my Sensible, level-headed, cognizant half in the ruck sack ;)
And he was too willing to go. After all that’s the spirit. Good things and Bad things, Noble deeds and not so noble ones, we do together for the rest of our lives.

So what does the curious mind find? Hurray!!!! After 2 joints food tasted better and feelings and emotions were more vivid. I Sang:

Yesterday,
All my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they are here to stay
Oh I believe in yesterday

Suddenly
I dont have the laugh
I used to weep
Theres a shadow hanging over me
Oh, yesterday, came suddenly

Whyd she have to go
I dont know, she wouldnt say
I said something wrong
Now I long for yesterday

Yesterday
Love was such an easy game to play
Now I need a place to hide away
Oh, I believe in yesterday

A Warm hand on my shoulder. I wake up to find my future. I smile.
There are the eyes I always wanted to look at me, talk to me, to feel me. This is the human touch I always longed. I Belong to him, he Belongs to me and we belong to each other!!

Marijuana doesn’t make you sluggish, it makes you foolish.
I will go for the tulips any day. They make me high.

This is the closest to being crazy

In the crossroads of my life

I am standing strong

Miseries feel so wrong

There are no promises made.

Piece by piece I have let all go

Strong winds and sometimes snow

They made me cry from time to time

But there are no promises made. 

I need no vagueness now

I have found my happy place

I have already paid

And there are no promises made

Mind is the cause of both bondage and liberation

No, nothing at all
No! I regret nothing at all
Neither the good that has been done for me
nor the evil
It’s all the same to me

No, nothing at all,
No! I regret nothing at all
everything is paid, swept away, forgiven
I don't care about the past!

With my memories
I lit the fire
My sorrows, my pleasures,
I don't need them anymore

My love stories are swept away
with their trembling voices
swept away forever
I'm starting all over again

No, nothing at all
No! I regret nothing at all
Because my life, my joys,
Today everything begins with you!

@The Complete Song of Life
Edith Piaf

My journey is fun as I know the ending.

Yesterday, while driving back home, a few hours of solitude between me and Joni Mitchell’s “Urge For Going” made me realise that I am looking for a new ‘Me’.

It was nearly mid night. London never sleeps and yet the road in front of me was silent.
It almost seemed that nothing else was there.
Street Lights.
No bawling or gear howls.
It was then a yearning arose into my awareness, to find happiness -In the relentless exuberance of spring as well as during the severe grey winter.

The Sound of Silence had a comforting touch. I realised, when we feel discontent, we tend to think a change in our lives is the answer to happiness. But we fail to search for joy in everyday life. We look for a home but miss the point that onus lie on us to build it. If we don’t build it today, we will never build it tomorrow.

I remember when I was young, during one of our annual outings, I tried to hold the wispy clouds that wafted inside my car. I was happy that I could hold on to them. And that is exactly what I am going to do, “Hold On” to the Moments!
Just when the going gets tough, there is an urge to look outside and dream. I wish I can look inside and stay awake.

Silentide

Tonight I sing the saddest songs,
Tonight I write the saddest lines.
Tonight I hear the sound of silence.
Tonight I see the vertical river of the dead,

Tonight I wish you talk
Tonight I wish you knit
Tonight I wish you smile
Tonight I wish you hold.

Tonight I wish you saw
Tonight I wish you bless
Tonight I wish …..
You were Here.

Sandglass

I often wonder about the mystery surrounding our lives.
In such combative conditions of existence, in spite of deceit and tears in pain, how do we sense beauty. How do we feel the sense of solidarity. Is it because we sincerely want to paint our tomorrows bright .We borrow the colours from the bygone days and in the process they fade to sepia hues. We steal the colours from today for our journey to tomorrow.
Time is slipping away. The frozen existence has thawed and life no longer accumulates rust .Heart accepts all reasons, eye sees the bright sunshine and dewdrops and yet there is a haunting smile of emptiness. The emptiness stems from the wish to paint tomorrow with the perfect shades of blue and green and red .The emptiness stems from the fear of seeing a chronically out of tune piece of art. The emptiness stems from the desperate want to fly. The emptiness stems from the fear of an amicable termination
Clock is ticking away.

No Caskets or Funerals

My letter never got posted.
A melancholic grey day .My Christmas tree died.
So many times I felt I should write you a thank you note, before I left, a note to say how much I will miss you. How much I loved to see you in those carefully chosen reindeer baubles, glass Santa, red and gold angels.
You secretly kept all the gifts that my friends and I crafted in our “Wish-List”-the long overcoat, shades, lucky charm locket and ring, loads of Cds and Dvds.

I remember I came back home early to switch those dancing lights. You looked beautiful. You will always be beautiful.

I have my regrets but I can feel my new spirits urging me to feel attached again.
Yes I forgot to mention I have a dog now. You always hated it. My neighbour’s dog bothered you. You were always scared and insisted not to let it in.

Rest in peace. Enjoy your new home.

Yours Religiously,
…………………

A walk in the special silence of a snowy night.White the branches and the Earth,like a warm kiss and cold burns

Drunk with Pines and long kisses,Like Summer I steer the fast sail of the roses,bent towards the death of the day,Stuck into my solid Marine Madness

Flames and Ether making a rush for my veins

Bookends

I have grown to dark things
farther from the unusual and usual palettes
of light and shadows.
I do not have any use for them now.

A tide to some broken things,
Some singed, some unmade
They keep my rhythm amidst their
forgotten songs.

I have come to live with common things
That I observe and overflow by
Things that have forgotten their place
And their pasts. Things that stay but do not belong.

And I have learnt to be apart of tragic things
the paths from darkness to light
that do not lead to familiar truths
no more than what cobbled stones permit
no more than what I am ready to forget.

@ Thankyou Abhra da:)

Am I seeing Red wherever I turn my Eyes?

Ah vastness of Pines,murmur of waves breaking.

All Goes Onward and Outward, Nothing collapses

In them Realities for you and me,In them Poems for you and me

The Endless Pride

Soundless,between motionless gondoliers

Switzerland,alone and solemn,June surprised me with my joy of humble honeycomb:Bright as a dream