Thursday, March 23, 2017

Memories of March - II


A random date, curiously excited to thy fate, our longing to mate""Last night you were in my room, now my bed sheet smells like you". (I decided I won't change it soon enough)


Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind, moonlight kissed night that passed. for all the time it last, & the blushes it cast. Blank mind, with expectations that we get indulged with each other and caressed, though it took a while for that comfort to rejoice, it eventually did, and it was nice, nice is good.


"I want to feel what I feel. What’s mine(least I could be happy to believe, it was). Even if it’s not happiness, whatever that means. Because you’re all you’ve got." - Whatever it is you're seeking won't come in the form you're expecting.


We sipped shots of whiskey, I had almost more then a quarter of that bottle, but still didn't got drunk. Post midnight, almost getting into wee hours of a stand still night that made the time flew faster then I expected. Never wanted us to doze of snoring, waking up to nothingness worthy of this meeting each other." I whispered from far away, when you laid there, waiting for you to move, & get up & I could initiate a talk and settle down with you closer and closer, since we were inches away and I wanted there to be no space between us. thank God you woke up & we were on the go". Kissed you a million times, I whispered I was in Love, though yes, to soon it was to say, just after a day, that was infatuated, and thy desperate need & urge to pacify one self whole heartedly on and off bed made it so promisingly apt.


I cherished the time we spent. I did not wanted it to end or let it go. I still did not wanted to indulge more, therefore I was limited in performance, for once, I did tried to halt, for the next I gave you all of me, It could have been a lot more in the process, said & done, asked, but I had it, let go in flow, I never wanted to finish everything ,since I wanted there to be something for the next time. I lay nude next to you, & the night was young, it passed, morning came.


How could I forget that mango flavoured first ever drink that we shared together.


I could have let you do more to me, and at the same time, I could have done more to you. But what more could I dwell into & ask, for all the things we had & did, were apt & there was no hesitation, though at times, I felt, you felt it too, that there was something stopping us, & then there was something letting it all go, how it had too. The surrendering & the surrender was the most surrender some - hugging and kissing, & everything else. The mesmerized smooches, the touch of the nude skin, the foreplay & hugs. The darkness, the ray of light that blushed on to us, while we wore nothing, and those half on and off, clothes that in between had all the reasons why we met, there was more beyond the so called bed laid intuitive mind, expecting and at the same time, being unconditional, though the participation was almost equal under one blanket. This was more then just friendship for me - the involvement that evolved was pleasant and just could not separate us, lying next to each other, in arms. The whispers, silence, and the sleep - the laziness that came and left, taking turns while we made love.

Those random talks about family & friends, places, times, people who mattered the most, ghosts, spiritual and everything else that came & went by! Sharing pictures, thoughts, fond memories, likes and dislikes, and everything else liked & hated. In hope, that we save more for the next time we meet, whenever that is, if at all. I won't sound like one and don't want to be that other person. What we had was (however I think it to be) interestingly laid & played. Not to miss the love bytes, that I shall see for another few days & that shall remind me of you, I hope mine on you too remind me of you, and the time we had. I loved your touch , I loved that we talked, I loved that we listened to music, & were in between somewhere lost. A romantically sexual involvement - I could go about it and never end.


We might be structured apart, puzzled or insanely sorted - We had a good time together. We could be poles
apart physically & mentally, yet there was something that got us in touch. Time passed so quick, yet memorable memories added to thy month of March. Conditionally sought or thoughtfully unconditional happened.


We all have our stories, our own world hidden pilled onto layers, that might or may never come out, things of past things of present, worries about future, hell lot of more and less things around and in, that might trouble, yet we all are with masks trying to hide and come out at times, in hope we might settle with something more of kinds that shall suffice. Time is more powerful then anything else, and in the process we meet and loose people, but the memories stay and haunt our subconscious state. You never know what is in stored for a shorter or a longer run, between two people, but all the moment that matter is now. What we just witnessed /lived & cherished was pleasing to the core, and yes it certainly made us come closer.


"If you have been brutally broken, but still have the courage to be gentle to others then you deserve a love deeper than the ocean itself."-A failure is not a loss. It’s a gain. You learn. You change. You grow."


Everything else is passé, that ever existed, but gets replaced by new, yet how perceiving , deceiving, welcoming, fake , true it might be, there is always a thin & thin line between & parallel approach is all it takes to make things work between. We wrongly choose people and feel we could always keep hunting for truest form of love but we eventually end up with wrong people, not even trying to understand why it was at the first place. The fault is humane, cant help it, but in the process we learn and experience, and figure, the truest kind of existence that exists and reasoning and logic that gets itself reciprocated.


You were the only reason, I did not wanted the night to end so soon, & day to rise & shine, when you would have to go, though there was sleep somewhere settled on the heavy eyelids, that weighed more then the anguished heart, but tried settling on to the comfort of the silvery clouded outlined love. I still never wanted to sleep..


It isn’t possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you(I can't). I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.


I wanted to know how you felt - I never got answers, nor did I got any hints whatsoever. I don't want to sound like one Stupid Cupid madly deeply falling for thee single handed ,pouring out my heart & mind in words, defining my refined moments of nostalgia spent with you. All I hope you felt somewhat similar too & this was not just another experimental random date for you.

I had been emotionally drowned with haunted thoughts in remembrance of the forgone days passé & weeks and months, coming to a consoling conclusion that I failed to blow a trumpet to thy ear that never was interested of any intellect that it pretended it understood & reciprocated but on the contrary it never existed or was a lame fake pretender that posed to be one saint sage, all painted with blushful of glam coated empty & hollow perspective in a peculiar way.


I stood there singlehandedly trying to enlighten & suffice myself & the moment whose memories were going to fade sooner or later. Since I have not heard from you vocally for all this while, from the time you left -  I guess I got it' pretty clear already.


I console myself , my bed, my heart, my soul , my awaken dozed eyes that never wanted to miss nothing. Despite the ray of hope metaphorically provoked the rhetorical eyelids to shut, heart to stop over pounding in anxiety & running out of all expectations, coming to nothingness, the widowed windowed light stood there & even the eyelids could not come to my rescue, fed up of my vicious cycle of dwelling into thee deeper to this profound world existing in complete non existence that I had build up, based on few extraordinary memoirs of my life in past, and absolutely nothing could replace thy & thee shall pass too pretentiously agreeing to overcome these evil limited intentions, those were not peculiarly difficult to understand - Now! I thought I should put an end to it & try to overcome thee.

"I just had my bed sheet & everything else changed!"

I guess that’s just part of loving people: You have to give things up. Sometimes you even have to give them up.“ - Anonymous

Friday, March 3, 2017

Memories of March




Adulterated Insanity all trapped in an Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind - Incarnated Soul as I may sound, I just need to figure out in the process, how sane, sorted, adulterated, ripe or uncooked my very being is as of now. Too joyously & childish like, excited about the clouded sky & the sun rays peeping out of the blue, white & dusky hues (grey shades of the ironical moment). Ironical because things never last the same every time, they start & come to an end, & the very intuition of loosing it too soon, makes me sink into myself all the more.

The official meetings were super, the restaurant I was staying at was the one I had visited numbers of times before, so half of the staff already knew me there, and were aptly friendly and overwhelming. The large bed, that only had me on it, all the while, my beauty sleep, and annoying phone calls. and do not disturb tag out on my door, and then these meetings I had, the people I met, old & new. the gift that I had specially got for everyone in here, who I intended to give personally. The handmade masala chai & coffee beans mixed & matched, wisely chosen, & the chocolate cookies and a thank you note.

Met two celebrities in here and had a nice time spending time with them. God gracious me, could not ask for more.

Its been days & weeks I had been in Mumbai, was out for a business trip that followed by a leisure vacation that was unexpected, though this is like my second home, & I have always loved and liked being a part of it anytime and every time I happen to get a chance. I am not sure if I could do much justice to the story telling part, but then I had to pour everything out and admire the wondrous phase, I am led into and it has added to my Memories of March, that are coming to an end, as I return back to my home in a days time. I am going to miss it bigtime.

Shopping by & dropping by the Street Hawkers & roaming in the Market, the streets crowded, as if everyone is out to shop. I guess the lonely souls are out to get something or the other to pacify themselves. The dark ones are out to see some light, the Nocturnal ones are out living in there part.

Long hours spend on Juhu beach, sitting and strolling, wondering, wandering, from one end to another. The balloon vendor carrying all shades of primary coloured balloons, in the typical folk Maharashtrian attire/ensemble and the other vendors selling BhelPuri & VadaaPav & Pao Bhai Stalls, The IceCream/Kulfi /Candy vendors, the kids and there playmates and there games, the old & the married, the singlet's and the daters, in between those wet and muddy foot prints in the sand, those wet feel drenched. My shorts all wet, & there are these sand particles on it that make it itch, but never the less the feeling is more then merrier then itself. The rise & dawn of the sun & the moonlight sky glittering the sky that I see almost everywhere I am, they same to be following me everywhere and I seem not to hide from them ever' they certainly know what all I did & when, how I had been & everything.

A walk to the Iskon temple & praising lord praying to thee while excited about the whole Hare Krsna Hare Rama feel and then there is this parshad that I am so anxious to have, after I bow the lord and escape form his holy castle, out to the impure forms of a livelihood, still with a whole lot of pure thoughts though in disguise to the impure wonderful imitating lusty urges & negate in and around that I wish could end, & suffice me what all was pure and what all was true.

Exciting thing that happened unexpectedly was these 4 people I was to meet, as if it was destined. To add something to my story telling part. Though its evident that you come across people in day to day life, and they kind of leave an impression now and then, but not everyone does that with that great force, like these did. Two out of four (one from Delhi itself & other one from Mumbai) became over friendly and as if like we knew each other from real long. The love the comfort the understanding, the bonding, the emotions, the friendliness, the charm, the curiousness all entangled in this excitement wrapped strangely to knowing thee and thy knowing me , and in the process that followed, there was much more that words could even publicise out loud, let them be piled in the layers and let it be. The remarks and the suspicious comments and then this friendly addressing names and nice time spend with them all together. The conversations, the dine-out, the lost & found and then the found & lost part, & turning out to be an another epic in my life. Lucky me, I am always strangely a stranger at places with people who are not stranger anymore. Though as much out loud I wasn't to express every tiny detailed experience, I hold myself back and stay mum.

My last dinner here as of now, is a Goan Fish Curry, with Pudina Parantha, Rice & a bottle of Beer (this restaurant coming to me rescue), which is just below the dormitory reserve(hotel thing) I am staying at.

My heart & my head is heavy .my eyes could pour out oceans right now. I don't know how to swim, but I don't care. I feel loved & this moment this love this feeling, this beautiful phase right now is what I am enjoying. Tears of Joyfulness that contentiously wrapped me to to its very being in the act of doing something unexpected raised me from ground and gave me a high. 
"I had asked thy many times why thy stayed, and thy always said the same thing: ‘Because I love you, and I wanted to, and I knew you were in there.’ No matter how damaged I had been, thy had loved me enough to still see me somewhere inside."
"I spent the day wondering why' Why can't we work it out, why can't we work it out Remember the light of dawn, on our faces. I was giving in to you, what's most precious to me I want it all I want it all again, again. I don't wanna believe you no more, nor any words you say, cause it's only bullshit. anyway I gave up a piece of my heart, a piece of my trust, a bit of flesh and blood, a piece of me, yeah. Your love is more bitter than a regret. I see you care, but you're too scared. I know thee f*** you up and now you're loving me, From the corner of your eye, I want it all, I want it all again, again. Do you want the same?"
Now that if you ask me, Are you in Love? I would reply "Yes - I am in love all the time with everyone & everything that gives me little bit of attention now & then.& I return more then the expected favours to thee. Cupid Me."

Baby there is sadness in your eyes, I don't want to say Good Bye! - Anonymous

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Haunted Hormones-Subconscious Tunnels



Sleeping with 206 bones, & waking up with 207 is such a man thing. Now I wonder how miraculous that is. Glad ' I am still a man, although my manhood seldom gets affected by few feminist traits. They say that God is a women, I often confine to thee as well. Now that leaves me with  just one question? Although science insists that crying is natural, culture still sends messages that strong men don't cry. Does that makes me less macho & more effeminate! Why?

Eternal Sunshine Of A Spotless Mind - three days on a drunken sin, I woke up with thee walls around me ,yet so kind. Happy & grieved, deceived-relieved, perceived-revealed lost & found, I have seen the light, still I act so blind. No matter how petite or high they sound. Its nevertheless a rollercoaster ride, a merry go round.

I roll on to my bed at times, with a pillow hugging comfort to thee thoughtful rhymes. It gets darker, though this beam of light I see with a single drowsy eye, tells me it's time to get up & do the right. Have rolled down on the floor, yes true at times. Did anyone said' hungry? Yeah ' I do!, I am. I am just trying to eat & drink ,quenching thee, in between the naps & feeding these empty lines.

Nights are lonelier, only peaceful when I hear no dogs bark & cry, Evenings messier & so much dry, Noons are like feeding Spoons, day dooms, Days busy at bay. If I act nocturnal , its the best time to lay.

Somewhere between the wit full intellect in my desperate attempts, frustrated lust, to thee I often fall prey. Craving still like a little boy who wants a toy to play, sand houses & castles still exist if you really dig harder any day. ,keeping aside the chaos'ed nuances, I follow my heart, less pretentious. I still have to learn to be a perfectionist trying to aim my targeted dart. Its always been a lonelier heart, no friends to play , no one near to be apart.

I had lately led the laziness creep in, & now its difficult trying not let thy seduce me. Though I try not to burn my self on calories & still wish the leanest - I must be.

I no longer can wear my deceased father"s gown, hope he does not look at thee with a saddest frown.I never understood mom's taunted norms. I guess it was then that It all sounded gibberish noun. hope she rests in peace. but now I am verbally sound, muted at times, sober & down. I have matured myself to a clever verby derby, & now my tamed imaginary horses take me high' sigh!  I've got stuck on thee, these imaginary wings so curvy.

Things of the past, the frowns and the drowns, the red nosed clowns, shelves with dust & spider webs, money &;the debts,  lizards hunting while they rest, playful rats, sinful cats, rich , poor, ordinary foolish men, women,  brats, from illusionary runways to the buckled straps, that tie me down to the holiest craps. Midlife crisis, that rolls me to dices, alerts & signals and there warnings best sighted. I am hiding in my cocooned nest. Sunshine & twinkles in there own bloomy fest. shades of grey with hinted hues, difficult to digest. holistic murmurs enchanted to the core, here I tell you my real, reel & superficial folklore. I thought! I became a saint, but they still call me a whore. Sweet, peppery, salty - I am - a little soar.

With what ever suffices me now, no matter how, I try to be as cheerful as I could be, I try to make the most if it ,as humble as I should be.

Happened to have already lived my life with petite things & people that sufficed me. I love thee, & thy loves me back(those are the things inside me). Limited to my choicest of taste bud curiosities, I anguish thee. I surrender to thy, who surrenders to me. Strange' yet true! 'Love changes everything' it might be you, it might be me. - Anonymous

Saturday, December 31, 2016

The Unsaid & the Already Said - First day of the Year


"There are years that ask questions and years that answer. All endings are also beginnings. We just don’t know it at the time. You have to die a few times before you can really live - I feel I have lived & died a trillion times already, answering & asking, & my head and heart now is one stale recycle bin, where there is no "empty trash" option! But there seems to be something still that smells nice out of the stale lot. I could sit and write all kind of stories, but they were not of any worth, until I wrote mine, & I even don't mind if anyone was reading or listening to thee, as I was so much busy myself trying to console myself about every word I wrote, filling in all those gaps , that I edited later, and revised. I could straight away go back to every moment good or bad that I ever belonged to, & it could carry me the same way I did, while I admired not so well written prosed collated vocab, that I tried to refine every time I write something.

There is this greed to be filled with harmony & peace, and acquaint thyself with all the materialistic as well as the non-materialistic. One can choose, but at times the choice is not an option made that easily available. Normal is an ideal. But it’s not reality. Reality is brutal, it’s beautiful, it’s every shade between black and white, and it’s magical. Yes, magical. Because every now and then, it turns nothing into something & then you see everything turning just the opposite in fractions of seconds. Its like paragliding without knowing how to. I sit down, stand, lay down, getting hampered and trying to hamper thee back, shoo away these thoughts that haunt me, and bring about just a giggle or a tear & more out of no where, in that state of saddened stoned state of existence that prevails out of no where, & everywhere and everything just falls apart for that very moment. After you are done with the lateral & the not to lateral thinking, and tormented struggling to keep your head straight dropping dead like Fred, & being like one living dead, as if you were already in hell or heaven (don't know either of there realities, so I assume they might just be very much like mine)

There is a kind of crying, I have experienced, and it is not just crying about something terrible that has happened, but a crying for all of the terrible things that have happened, a crying that cannot be diluted by a brave deed or a kind word, but only by someone holding you as your shoulders shake and your tears run down your face, giving you all the assurances that everything would be all right no matter what. At least if not everyday, once a week, I could fall into a fit of giggles and laugh rolling out load, holding my tummy, falling of the bed. (they said' there was something called happy tears), I so wish!

"First day of the year", is very much the same as the last day of the year, but then there is something about it that touches you to the core. As life gives you a flash back to the tiny of the ugliest or pretty petite and by and large few random good ones, travelling unwillingly to this whole thought process of past & a intuitively worried presumed future' down a memory lane through & through this very unsettled state of mind - a brainy & heartfelt episodes of ones living.

"Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." - My story seems to be no less of a fairy tale, I tell you, but I guess fairies have fled away much long back & I have been busy slaying the dragons lately. I wish my guardian angel comes and save me from thee and slaughter these creatures who torment me away every day. I win , I loose, I get high, I get low, I get defeated, other days I am just average normal being, a less average, a below average, above average, & averagely I live life likewise everyday, and everyday is not the same. I seldom close my eyes, & think I made my brain shut, from the odds, if only I could say life is good, good is nice.

My body is the most revolting thing I own. I know this. I have got it bruised a million times emotionally & physically, thinking of it as a beautiful & ugly. Good riddance. Beautiful or ugly cannot contain what this body represents inside out. I am still here. In this body. After countless times of trying to leave it. A fight with myself-struggling to pacify with a hopeful fistful hollow anxieties & dreams that have made me a wanderer, though wondering now & then isn't that wonderful, I could utilize my time & head into a hell lot of other things I possibly could, If I could only settle down on to thee(my life). Its 3 am' I already made it to the first day of the year, glad! - Anonymous

Friday, December 2, 2016

Our Ghosts aren’t eating you alive



"Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it."- David Foster Wallace

Ants... Automatic negative thoughts... Or u mean haunting creative visions? 

Both of these and everything and everyone else ,the living dead and the dead living in all forms in love and in hatred. Everything that eats thee and the trouble some soul,the desperate one, the frustrated union of thee negate and the surviving existence of the unholy beings. that gets you reluctantly or in ways more feasible, depleting your existence to the merciful platonic and the real. The reel and the invisible.

Get a life u bitchy tramp.

I immediately opened my eyes and furrowed my brows in confusion. "You have no right to say that. Don't tell me how to live my life." The words came out in monotone emotions. You think I'd take you seriously?" Raised an eyebrow and for some reason that I don't understand, I burst into a fit of giggles..and the numbness that had been making me almost not human disappeared.. I can already see the future in this life I chose—long working hours and a lot of sleepless nights. and life wouldn't be so bad at all.

I don’t know how to put it, but I just can’t get it through my head that here and now is really here and now. Or that I am really me. It doesn’t quite hit home. It’s always this way. Only much later on does it ever come together. -  Haruki Murakami

"I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." -  Maya Angelou


If I'm to speak for myself, I'll tell you that the universe is twice as big as we think it is, and you're the only one that made that idea less or more devastating." - Anonymous

tipkali - chipkali(lizard), Preying the Play


"I used to dream about escaping my ordinary life, but my life was never ordinary. I had simply failed to notice how extraordinary it was." - Ransom Riggs

That's a new name given to this lizard that we were having fun with,while it was busy catching its prey in the light we were bothering it to move away by clapping and chutki bajaaying' (snapping fingers) saying tipkali,and it would move. "That's how little kids had fun and got me all engaged in this playful act-a new game".

Kids will be Kids' and they would make you one too! For once, do adapt yourself in there shoes and let the open laces, be open, and you don't need to tie them up, no matter how many times your Moma says you too, (Simply ignore). We go more things to take care of. Moma! let me play na!

Little emotional moment when your name verbally is spoken almost to a perfection suffixed or prefixed by anything else. It was prefixed by ey' before and now its suffixed by uncle' by this little kiddo, who wants to play with you,spending time with you as if he got acquainted with this little kid inside this adult body that his soul could only figure out' and he would call for you, remember you and cry when he couldn't find you.
"I plant roots so deeply in the people I love that I always lose a piece of myself when they go." -  Beau Taplin

What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.
Bursting into joy of tears, remembering the eventful deed, at the time of the need, is one essential vitamins that gives you a high. You loose nothing, Neither does your age fade away, you are only going to shell out few ounces of your fat, jumping and might shed few numbers from your growing adulthood being. - Anonymous

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Contrast-foul-Contrast-fuel Longing


I hope that someday, somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. They don’t pull away. They don’t look at your face. They don’t try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms, without an ounce of selfishness in it.
Life isn’t meant to exist in a narrow color spectrum of perpetual happiness. That’s a movie. It’s not reality. Experience all your vivid, fiery, watery emotions. Give yourself permission to be full bodied. You’re peeling. Revealing. It’s a messy, magnificent process.
Sometimes the verbal communications from a complete stranger are so friendly, that you sink down sulking to an awe of desirous longing for knowing thee & sharing yourself to thee more. If that little conversation lasted pretty good, imagine how rest of it could. You rejoice to a strange yet pleasing appraisal of kind interaction, that made your day, and the more of it seldom makes you want to grasp and hug and kiss and never let it go, never let It end.
God created man and, finding him not sufficiently alone, gave him a companion to make him feel his solitude more keenly.
Agreed we all are strangers in a strange strange world until we start becoming friends and inmate thee. Far are the truths and the false attributes of a life, that often tie us down, and we slowly open, each layer peeled of resulting in a ruined or building up a strong impression that could last for eternity or die instant.
I think I fall in love a little bit with anyone who shows me their soul. This world is so guarded and fearful. I appreciate rawness so much.
Presumptions and expectations based on our judgmental core values lead us to somewhere or no where. We often kill it and try to flee away from what is not so desirous to thee and keep safe the desirous that belongs to our fetish forte. Tired to rinse and wash often thy stained, we start a fresh and the viciousness follows.
I despise the space that separates our skin whether it’s only the threads of our tshirts or the miles between our beds
Desire to mingle and talk more, sharing and caring gets more ascertained based on how the other person reacts to your over friendly gestures. Not often is the person on other side in parallel terms to your choicest of options and its different all together to a contrast foul or a contrast fuel (contrast full) of seldom conditional self centered agendas.
I may not have been sure about what really did interest me, but I was absolutely sure about what didn’t.
Crocodiles are easy. They try to kill and eat you. People are harder. Sometimes they pretend to be your friend first. People who need help sometimes look a lot like people who don’t need help.

How difficult is it to simply tell someone that you were fond of thee and in response all you get is why and how in reaction to thee statement delivered. Backing off is the only step left to save yourself from any humiliation thus caused, meanwhile hard to convince that the lonely soul might want to creep to a soul that mistook the fondness to be a misinterpreted and misguided approach, pretty much straight that was nothing more of an outrageous attempt to be straight forward and approach thee with love, failing to which, one dwells into ones shell once again with no trust to thee.
I hide because there’s more to me than what you see and I’m not sure you’d like the rest. I know that sometimes, I don’t like the rest.
Bend down rudeness of harsh realities make you live in a fake world of your own, and the world would never understand you , just because you tried so hard to reach out to thee, but thee never understood. Failing to the intellect that could mesmerize and settle it all even, the journey flings from one corner to other , from one soul to another, & the poor soul gets pissed off at the end. Grief stricken privacy longing to be invaded & assaulted.

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. - Anonymous