Handfull of Dreams

Back with a bang

2011-09-27T15:23:00.001-07:00

A long interval can mean a lot of things in the blog world:
1.Something disastrous happened to the blogger.
2.Blogger got promoted at work with unprecedented amount of work punctuated by performance related pay promises.
3.Blogger got sacked as he was found out blogging at work.
4.Novelty wears off and the Blogger hangs his boots up.
5.Clinical Depression.
6.Maternity break.
7.Last but not least he gets published and becomes an overnight celebrity so now he has no time for the old idle internet scrapbook!

Well in my case no such luck as no.7 but yes a lot of the others do apply in small quantities!Having a baby is not 9 months,but spans well over 2 years from getting pregnant to rearing a baby into a child that sleeps at night for more than 4 hours at a stretch!But now that I am more than half through that adventure I thought be nice time to pop back & see what the blog world is upto.So in short it is comeback post this obe.This time I am timing myself to see where this newfound inspiration & handy Android Blogger takes me...future is full of suspense & it is all happening right here!;)
Night night x

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4

Dew Drops Dream

2008-10-10T00:27:00.000-07:00

Like the twinkle of a grass. . .

The first rays from east made her smile

She fluttered and gossiped with a passing wind

Cradled in an unknown grasses' sway...

The blade touched the ground as if in respect

and the rays melted into the dreams of the morning. . .

Between the moment of existence and non existence..I wonder

What did the dew drop dream?...

Reflections

2008-10-08T04:21:00.000-07:00

Dedicated to Achan

I see the dew drops..
so beautiful and precious
Cradled gently by the tender blade of grass
That sways in glee in a passing wind
The angel in the dew drop smiles
Beckoning the sun to rise a bit more
Like in trance he obeys with joy
And night leaves with a heaving sigh
The light then pierces the dew drop
Making it weep with heaviness
And finally like an unstruck note
It melts away into oblivion.
Like you left me that day
Echoing into a past

I wept, I mourned, I kept to myself
The words, the songs that i treasure so much
I kept to myself the silence of our moments-
the days you taught me about the life in clouds;
about the grace of the stream and the song of my soul
I kept to myself what little i understood of you
And When my words failed me i turned to my silence
and saw thyself mirrored in my conscience
And then I realised who I am
That I am a reflection of what you were

-March 2005

A wet Five rupee note from the past...

2008-10-02T04:31:00.000-07:00

Memories are strange things…you never know when they might walk into your life. They just decide to call in on you without informing, without even showing the courtesy to knock- The audacity of the uninvited guest I suppose! I have found myself in the oddest of moments opening doors to the dark grim stranger with a leaking bag of rags in his shoulder smelling of a familiar scent from the past. And I have asked who are you like umpteen times, but with no respect the stranger just pushes me aside and enters like he owns the place…no introduction, no explanations- what can I say, but the audacity speaks for itself again!

The other day I was fretting at my desk to meet a deadline, and without a warning, without a sign, in came the stranger again! And this time the scent was that of a five rupee note…

Long back, and I mean, long back, when I was in my primary school in Punjab, I had stumbled upon this five rupee note on the floor on our way home from school. Now this, I am talking of a time, when after school snack shopping was banned by parents, when pocket money was a thing unheard of, and where being five minutes late was almost like a sin that you could be denied entry into heaven!

Coming back to the note, it was slightly wet and the green of the note was almost deepened by the rain and Mr Gandhi tilted his head and grinned at me through his glasses. My first impulse was to tell my friends who enticed me to the corner snack shop , that I was going to buy them all ‘Kachalu’ – which was semi cooked potato dipped in a spicy tangy sauce. At the time, to me Kachalu was the best food in the world, simply due to the ‘No Street Snack’ policy of parents.

I looked at the note again, tattered and wet, it wreaked a strange scent. On the little white portion by Mr Smiling Gandhi was a faint scribbling in blue ink , smudged all over. It read- Vicky Loves Reeta…;-) !

Amused, at the prospect of trading this epic monument of love for Kachalu I began walking to the shop with my friends. As we were about to cross I saw my classmate crying her eyes out outside the gates. We rushed to her and enquired. As luck would have it, it turned out she had lost all her money and had nothing left for the rickshaw…

Now I clenched my newly found five rupee note inside my palm so tight that , I almost suffocated our Baapuji! Patting her shoulder I was saying ok, hoping that someone would offer her the money and wouldn’t put me in the awkward position of having to part with mine. But as luck would have it again, my best friend Anoop steps in as the Messiah of people in Distress and says,” I have an idea…Shwetha, you are so lucky that I am here now, you better pay me back for this….”All of us looked at Anoop bewildered and puzzled. Her plump fair face, shot to a brilliant red colour and her eyes widened …
She said” Anju just found lost five rupee note and we were about to get Kachalu….but clearly since your ‘Situation’ is more urgent, Anju please give it to her….

Now all eyes turn to me, all judgemental now. I looked at each of them hoping to hear something that would encourage me to keep it. Everyone else seemed to have been cursed into icy stone by Anoop who stood there playing with ponytails , looking at me in a tone of’ Come on, You Heard me!Give it to her or I will throw you in the drain and break your bones!!’

The thought was enough to scare the living daylights out of me..I was a tiny fragile little thing and Anoop was a strong ‘hatta-ghatta’ Punjabi lass with strong arms , a strong grip and a mind that doesn’t think twice!
I opened my palm and looked at the note again. Bappu was still grinning at me from behind his glasses. I stared at him for a while. Slowly, the ‘Rupees 5 ‘was fading away and all I could see was a brighter bigger Bappu. I looked up at Shwetha and smiled and handed over the note to her. She smiled, her face wet with tears and said Thank you. Some reason that made me feel so happy.

I turned away and started to walk home with a smile in my face. Behind me I could hear Anoop say to Shwetha’ Yaar, see I told you na! Now you owe me a treat, come on you only need 2 Rs to go home….with the rest you can treat me to Kachalu’

A homeless deity...

2008-08-22T00:40:00.000-07:00

One night I decided to give up on this world and run away into the unknown. It was a strange night when the unknown seemed better than the known. I didnt think, I didnt even pause to look back. I ran into the thick darkness,with a luggage of hatred and anger on a path that leads nowhere. As I sped in the dark, I was fanning the fume inside me. I hated the world...and I kept walking repeating that hatred. And that was when, I saw her, sitting at the doorstep of some fortgotten ruins...

She was a frail little girl. It was just a blur from where I was standing, but she was an eloquent beauty with fierce eyes and an ethereal grace...I was stunned at her form and just watched her from the distance; she looked like a dream!Her face shone like a thousand moon in the faint glow of of the silver clouds.I wondered what a frail little girl like her was doing in this scary silence of this jungle.I walked closer to her and her form was becoming clearer and more enchanting.

She had her head down and she was sobbing. I looked closely, she was bleeding and bruised too. Her beautiful eyes moist with tears; glistened in the dark like little fireflies. Summoning all my courage I approached her. I asked her," Can I help ? ..."

She looked up at me. She had blue black eyes; just like the midnight sky! Such were her eyes that I could see myself reflected in them. A moment of gaze seemed like a lingering century...I was preparing to ask her again if she needed my help, when she stood up and walked off leaving me empty and baffled . I dont know why, I didnt walk off then- I was frustrated enough...I was humiliated enough...- But I didnt! I followed her. She walked and walked under the moonlight and I kept following her. There was something about her that was mysterious and magnetic. It seems strange for a person like me with so much hatred to follow a weeping strange little girl in the middle of the night in an unknown jungle.Perhaps it was my aimlessness, perhaps when in hatred I threw away my world, I was throwing myself into an existential vacuum.

Who knows!

And that was when it happened....she started singing...

My heart stopped!Her voice pierced the insides of my soul like a million swords. Her voice was faint and melodious but as she continued singing, it shred my soul into pieces and I felt a deep, unbearable pain. My insides bled! She walked into into a cave,still singing... I followed her into the cave. The next thing I know, is that I was in this deep dark cave alone talking to my own voice...and found myself battling between shock and pain. She was gone!I felt humiliated and angry, but at myself this time not at the world. I endured all this pain...to catch a glimpse of her and she decides to hide. I was angry with myself or caring...!I stormed out and walked back...

That was the last time I was going to care, I said to myself..

And just as I finished saying that in my head...I spotted her again...sitting on some other ruin...

I was'nt going to let her baffle me this time. She is not what she seems, I thought, and I must get to the bottom of this. I was convinced that this was far from reality and I was spiralling in a phantasmagoria...

I approached her again and I said " Look, I dont know what your story is. I am tired...now. Look at what you did to me!...Your voice pierced my insides and now I am bleeding...What have I done to deserve this?What are you...? Are you like a ghost or something?Are you punishing me for hating this world?...I dont understand...."

She looked up at me with her moist blue black eyes again and stared again into my eyes. There was a certain helplessness in that stare , this time.Then in a faint, soft voice that had the quality of first rain about it, she said " You say I am punishing you? " She titled her head to one side and looked at me rather consolingly and said " No, I am not, In fact you are punishing me..."

I was shocked!

She continued " I am not a ghost or an evil spirit. I dont have the power to punish. I only have power to love and receive love. I am the Goddess that once knew not what grief is, until the day

the seed of hatred was planted on earth.

Today the weed of hatred has invaded the world and there is no place for me. I walked out of the concrete buildings ,whereI was housed and people came three times a day to offer meaningless prayers! I was bathed in expensive milk and honey and annointed pointlessly, when I could hear the world chanting pure hate! I have become nothing but a wooden or marble figurine in a building or an image in a frame. I was feeling consumed !I couldnt breathe! I was dying a new death every moment seeing the world tear itself. It was just too much and I had enough!

So one day I walked out of all those temples , for good! I didnt want to exist, monumentally...I walked out into the darkness like you.And today I am homeless, I am alone..I am a goddess without power. I can only weep at the death of humanity. I can only sing a song of hope...

I wander aimlessly in the darkness mostly on my own. Occasionally I meet people like you ...who are runaways like me. There is only a single difference between me and you - I am running away from hatred, you are running towards it...."

She got up and walked off, singing into the wind, in a resounding voice that was like the first rain...She didnt turn back...

I stood there dumbfound and guilty; in an unknown jungle surrounded by thick darkness!I stood there watching a forgotten deity walk off...

I closed my eyes and I saw her blue black eyes again..I stood there with my face to the sky..

It started raining ...

The deity is crying...

They make me cry...

2008-08-21T04:56:00.000-07:00

I open my eyes to this world everyday, thinking today may be it will be better.
I look at the sky everyday, thinking perhaps, today the sun might come out
I open my windows to the street outside...thinking maybe today, the child across the street will sleep peacefully, without being beaten up....

Perhaps this the day , when people wont need reasons to hug each other and when they wont need an occasion to smile .... Today there will be no more accidents, and no more angry displays of nature...no storm, no earth quake, no blasts...any where in the world..

May be sometime today if I close my eyes, I might get to listen to that perfect silence inside me... and then when tired, finally when I step out at the end of the day and look up...I hope there will be a canopy of midnight blue sky spilled with clear stars, blinking their eyes at me...and and if I am lucky perhaps even, the child across the street might smile at me and I may just stand there watching him fall asleep cradled in the silent arms of the night....!

Perhaps, tonight i will go to bed without a thought and would sleep through without a dream....

Floating atop the peace inside me...drifting from one world to another!

Alas, but this is only a dream! Just a dream and nothing more...

I open my eyes today ...and I see suffering, I listen and I hear nothing but screams...
As it is now, the world makes me cry a river inside me ..every day. Its pain- its unbearable pain. I, like many of us, choke on it everyday and die a millions deaths every day! I wonder why people are scared to smile, I wonder why there is no respect. I wonder why they are unkind to our planet..I wonder why there is so much bitterness.

Everyday millions of children are born here, with closed eyes and folded palms; with only one dream in their minds; a dream no different to mine...

A dream without wings, a dream...that will die when they open their eyes!

The starving children homeless and tortured, the killings, sufferings and bloodshed, the screams of abuse at one another, the mad noise of screaming urban life, the treeless rainforests, waterless riverbeds and lifeless toxic oceans, the struggle for pointless power and wealth and the torture in Gods name and a planet that is slowly wasting into oblivion ...where are we ...?

If this is so,I wonder if it is the last flutter.....

If you remember correctly, we were meant to smile everyday when it all began....not cry!

Footsteps

2008-03-15T15:33:00.000-07:00

In memory of Achan on his seventh death anniversary-

With music in my ears and endless thoughts in my head…
I walk the road I walk every morning.
My feet stumbling on the rejects of yesterday,
My eyes set at the farthest horizon in the sky.

The silence of the morning let out a gentle sigh
The stripped silhouettes of the trees shivering…
The road was deserted and silent but for my footsteps
My footsteps…that tore the silence gently before it weaved it back on again!

I looked around and I saw nothing but darkness…
And in the darkness the street spilled with sighing corners
That seemed to scream in shrilling silence …
At the subdued spires and their wavering shadows!

The silence was eerie and the darkness fierce
The corners came alive with nightmares of unknown
My heart thumped at the slightest sound or rustle
And I thought I must run, for I felt alone and afraid!

I walked faster, my footsteps getting louder and louder
I cut through darkness, chanting the prayers I never chanted…
There were the footsteps, the heart beats and the faint mumble of chants
And I remember, strangely, the silence thinned after a while!

Although I felt much less afraid , I was still scanning in caution…
My pace slowed down but my ears sharpened…as I thought-
a second sound in the distance echoing all the way….
A second sound, other than my racing frenzied footsteps!

At first I thought, I was just hearing things, a figment of my mind perhaps!
But it sent a chill down my spine when I harked, no it wasn’t…
No it wasn’t ; it wasn’t an echo or an illusion….there was a second sound… and-
With every passing moment the, second sound, a footstep ; was getting closer and closer!

When I slowed my pace it seemed to slow its pace
When I ran, it ran with me and when I paused ,it did that too..
Finally…with my heart in my mouth I turned back to look…and to my surprise…
There was no one, not even a single soul to the farthest corner of my sight!

I walked forward slowly, feeling confused, the footsteps still ringing in my ear…
It came closer and closer and stopped when I it felt right behind me!
At that moment I felt a nudge, I stopped there and closed my eyes
I wasn’t afraid, I wasn’t running away…I was smiling…as I stood there under the cherry blossoms!

I stood there under the cherry blossoms, without a fear or care in the world
I stood there in the bliss of knowing I will always be followed no matter where!
When the darkness blinds my vision and when the silence scream at me…
I know now to hark for your footsteps that will always be following me!

I remembered the days I learnt to walk when you held my hands and walked my steps…
I remembered how I tried to match those footsteps…when I walked beside you…
I may never fill the footprints you left back…I may never walk with you …
I may never hold your hands again…I may never follow you….

But I realised under that cherry tree…with shining dewdrops on my face
That when I am afraid and lonely, when I am on that deserted walk of life…
I will not run again, when the darkness scares me, I will close my eyes under the cherry tree-
Your footsteps will be close behind … I will just stand, and listen…your footsteps will be close behind!

Prisoners of the Night...

2008-02-20T04:21:00.000-08:00

She danced and danced and danced quietly, softly striking the ground so that she doesn’t wake anyone. If you were to look at her from where I am, she was far away, far far away from reality. The night was cajoling the silence in which if you listen very carefully you will be able to hear her breathing hard into the silence. The sky was wearing distinct silver that glided in and out of the tender clouds.

It seemed like a dream. I watch her every night doing the same thing from my window. It has become a sort of obsession, a ritual for me. My sleep never goes beyond midnight, I often wake up in a semi disturbed state. I am not afraid of nightmares but it is the lack of them that scares me. There used to be a time I remember I used to wake up screaming as a child at the slightest element of fear in sleep when my mother would come in rushing and take me into her arms and sing me to sleep. Strange as it is this journey called life! Today I am craving for a nightmare, a dream or a little something to think…but no ….

I haven’t had a single dream or nightmare in the past 3 years. My world has come to be this cage with grey walls. I have a window, and this has come to be the most important part of my existence…my dialogue box with the world! I notice things I never noticed in the whole of 30 years that I lived on this planet… Now I talk to the wind, the moon, the sky and to shadows…
I would have laughed at myself a few years back. But now I have befriended this strangeness! I am learning to confront the darkness within me. But its never easy to pretend for such a long time. I find myself staring at the grey ceiling and counting my breaths for hours at a time…I sleep and then wake up with a start and stare into the oblivion. Endless monotony of the days, and long dragging nights when I wished I could at least have a nightmare…

I was almost at the end of sanity with this dreadful existence when I heard something faint in the silence of one of those torturous nights..I remember reaching up the window and scanning the deserted horizon! It took me a while to spot her….far away from the big barracades, on what seemed like a roof of a tall orange house, she was dancing away…I could hear the sound of her tender anklets softly piercing the silence. She was tiny, about 12 or 13 with long dark hair. I could not see her face, too far for the reach of my eyes…but I knew she was beautiful! Her arms cut through the mist while her body and her feet weaved a rhythmic phenomenon…There was no one to watch her except me and this excited me for no apparent reason. Under the starry sky there she was dancing oblivious to all like a divine spectacle…I could feel my heart race…
That was the first time I saw her, she danced until the dawn and I watched her all the while, and just before sunrise she stopped and fell on the ground only to rise again in couple of minutes and disappear into the misty morning! I felt a little wetness on my cheeks, I was crying for the first time in a long time. I sobbed and sobbed until I slipped into a state of trance….I knew I had stumbled onto something…I didn’t know what …but I knew it was special…!

From that day onwards, I have seen her many times. I would wake in the middle of the night floating in a state midway between dream and wakefulness…and find her there again!

It was not long before that my term of 6 years sped by and finally the day arrived when I would be able to bid farewell to these grey walls. I couldn’t say I was particularly excited. I was glad at the prospect of seeing the world again but strangely was quite sad to come to terms that I will miss the little window. I remember vividly, I changed into my civilian clothes that I wore into this place 6 years back, they felt strangely unfitting! I collected the little sum of money I had earned by doing little things around this jail for the last six years. I felt like a changed man. I walked out of those huge gates and took a deep breath; I knew what I had to do next!

I walked past the by lanes and the streets until I reached the big orange building. I walked around the brown fence, my eyes scanning for a proper glimpse of the angel that had kept me sane all these years! I was disappointed at not finding her anywhere. I turned around to walk away, when I heard the faint sound of anklets…I quickly turned and there she was!

She stood in the kitchen blowing into the black smoke! Her eyes were like diamonds and her face so radiant! She looked up at me, and stared blankly. I felt my ankles going weak and my throat drying up. That moment lingered on for sometime, it was like a thousand prayers rose up in the air in silence. However there was a certain sadness about those eyes. I heard some one from the house call out her name. She walked away jingling her anklets.

I walked through to the front of the house and I stole glance at her again, there she was as beautiful as she could be, she was scrubbing the floor and her hands were all covered in dust and water. I waited hoping she would look up! But she never did… Even as she moved about kneeling on the floor covered in dust her anklets jingled gently as if in a rhythm...

That day I was seized with an inexplicable sorrow. I found this new found freedom to be boring and unexciting. There was all the freedom around me that I could ever want, that I always longed for, but something was not quite right. All I could think of was her, and the sorrow in her eyes. I felt like a picture with no colours in it. My dancing vision came to an abrupt end!

I went to sleep that night with a numbing pain down my throat. My eyelids heaved of weariness. I felt lost …The night drew the same old curtain of darkness over my eyes. Once… again!

Next Morning at the Orange House:

Maya woke up with a start at the sound of the alarm bell; she was still tired as she had managed to catch only 2 hours of sleep. She likes the full moon and she loses herself to the rhythm on such misty nights with full moon like last night…

She looked at the alarm once again and started up from her mat on the floor, she was late by half an hour. She must get things done before the other wake up lest she will get told off badly like yesterday! She felt a surge of tiredness through her little body. Her legs were aching badly, but she knew she must go on, after all there is no place for aches and pains when you are fighting for a living to appease the hunger of a whole family!She closed her eyes and chanted her prayers. She looked out through the window; it was fairly dark and misty outside...

She opened the front door to go get the milk. The cats were lying smug at the corner of the veranda huddled up against the wall. In the distance she heard sounds from the nearby temple! She fetched milk and turned around to go in when her leg felt something on the floor. It was a bag and an envelope. She knelt down and took the bag in her hands…she knew straight away what was inside! Her eyes widened and glistened in the twilight, she wasn’t sure whether to open the envelope with it or not. She could feel her heart pumping. She resisted a lot but could not help her selves…she opened the bag and there it was…she recognised them from the muffled noses they made when she handled the bag…a pair of new and exquisite pair of dancing bells…!

She opened the envelope and there was a note in that which read

“ To my unknown Saving Grace, when you weaved magic in the night I wondered if I was dreaming…I thought perhaps you are an illusion! In my moments of insanity you put magic into my being….I don’t know how! Thank you for keeping me sane! I believe, no, I know, you are my guardian angel!

We both are the prisoners of night, you weaved magic in my darkest moments...its my turn now to put a little magic into yours...…I don’t know if I will see you ever again…but I know this for sure- when you dance with these bells on and if I listen very carefully in the silence I will be able to hear them chanting a rhythm in the darkness…!”

Maya was benumbed! Little pearls of tears rolled down those rosy cheeks…. she felt overwhelmed by the kindness! She looked at the bells again and talked to them with twinkling eyes. The bells made a muffled jingle as if they were smiling back at her! In the distance a prayer rose from the nearby temple …Om Asathoma Sath Gamaya…Thamasoma Jyothirgamaya…Mrithyorma Amritham Gamaya…Om Shanti..Shanti…Shanti hi….…

The Road that they Walked...

2008-02-19T05:07:00.001-08:00

It is pretty deserted when I walk through those streets in the morning on my way to work except for the delivery guys making deliveries to the cafes, the compulsive Mc Donalders and the man who sits before Starbucks asking for spare change. The darkness slowly unsettling itself, the rustle of the wind, and the clock tower at Carfax chiming every hour, exudes the elegance of a centuries old town whose every corner sighed and every building whispered a story. It is truly a city of dreaming spires. Especially at dawn, you look at those spires standing there in the darkness with closed eyes and folded palms, chanting an unknown prayer and dreaming of something unknown…And you feel Perhaps they are alive, perhaps they come alive in the darkness and talk to each other! Generations of wisdom that echoed these still stones. These magnificent stone structures and the staring gargoyles must have witnessed the making of millions of great lives, great world leaders and human beings who lead us through time and the various challenges of our history. For some its all about privilege, eliteness and grandeur to walk in through those gates. But then for a few other… its penance, determination and courage. The ground smelt of sweat and tears and the wind that blew beyond those gates probably carried the smell of a thousand cultures and countries, exhaled in unison by the seekers of wisdom from around the globe! Sometimes when I walk past there I just close my eyes, just to soak up in that moment experiencing something I cannot describe, I knew then, I was indeed feeling the pulse of this place, the vein of wisdom had run through here for aeons and will do so for aeons to come too! I just reflect back, quietly walking past the grand gates. I think of my school days and my university….days of endless combined study sessions punctuated with sighs and laughter…nights of intense sleeplessness spent burning the midnight oil… last minute hunt for lecture notes ….and what seemed like excruciating three hours of exams…and finally the gentle relief upon getting the results! All seemed so far away in the distant past. I look at the clock tower again, the time is slowly ticking away in silence. I felt undeserving and proud at the same time walking that street. The road lay in darkness, the towers stood still and chanting…awaiting the sky to break into dawn and to welcome many new pilgrims of widom. The quest goes on ! Many of those who will walk through here would be waited upon by the world... I walked slowly…with measured gentle steps…This is the road that they walked! I must not disturb a speck of dust even, they carry the lightness of time in them. This is the road they must walk ...hence I should tread them with care lest the I might wake the dreaming gargoyles...
Walking very quietly, I listened….I could feel the throb of the place…serene and calm…like the depths of the bluest oceans!The silence of that moment was better than a hundred prayers! I walked on…the dawn was about to break...the road awaits the pilgrims of wisdom...

WEAVING MY PRESENT WITH MY PAST- The Cinderella Moment!

2007-10-07T11:37:00.000-07:00

This is about the six months I spent in India last year. It was my home coming in a way as I was away for a good six years..! I don't know if it was lucky or unlucky; its quite hard to decide considering that a lot of things happened during those six months in India; but it was a soulful journey....

I was weaving my present with my past! There are not many adjectives to describe the experience but the closest choice would be -' resonant'!Long six years just spiralled into oblivion when I first set foot back there...it was just pure bliss! The sights, sounds and smells that were hidden away somewhere deep in my mind , all came back. I cast a glimpse out of the window as the wheels of the flight touched the ground and there was a buzz of adrenaline just sitting there...watching the lushness speeding past me as we were taxiing around the runaway!

I knew it...this was the moment I had long waited for, but just quite never happened the way I wanted ...but nevertheless having that moment a touch or step away from me was exhilarating!

You know its funny; when I was on my flight going to UK in 2000 one of the first things that sent up bubbles of excitement inside my head was how wonderful it would feel to return home after graduation, smelling of sweet success all over! Not just that, I even had this mental image of me landing in a pinstripe power suit and when I walked past peoples jaws dropped in awe!Ah, the teenage dream bubbles, they busted easy as it didn't take me long to figure out that success doesnt really have to be dressed in a power suit and isn't always awe inspiring! So ' Pop' went the bubbles!

But despite having realized all that, despite having all the little big things life threw my way; despite having problems that made me realize I may well not see my country for a long time yet, I kept dreaming and that still remained the moment I would give anything for, the moment when I will feel I have made my family proud, the moment my parents would whisper' thats my daughter!'; despite all , that remained my Cinderella moment!

UNWANTED CHARACHTERS

2007-09-13T12:39:00.001-07:00

An attempt to portray the war victims who never make it to the headlines,but live silently punishing themselves!

Streets spilled war .
Fear lurked everywhere.
Unfamiliar eyes prayed for help,
Unknown hearts pleaded for mercy.
This is the land of unrest where,
each corner,screamed a story.
Story untold by the newspapers
Stories that never quite made it to the headlines
Some stories that were forgotten,
some others deliberately abandoned!

Story of a boy who is limbless now
His leg was blown by a bomb
Of course ,it was only an accident !
The army had made a ‘Silly’ mistake
He does not go to school today.
He does not chase a kite or play in the field.
He works in the matchstick factory,
His dreams crushed under his own weight
As he drags around his torso,
remains that was spared in the ‘mistake’!

Story of that girl who doesn’t smile anymore
She was only seven when she found her parents lying dead in her house
Red coagulated in her eyes, the coldness spread into her mind
She heard that last dreaded cry of her sister from the courtyard
As she leapt out her last breath struggling in the arms of the stranger.
She doesnt speak, she doesnt smile,she doesnt even complain
Her smiles have faded into unknown, her tears frozen
She doesn’t live, she only breathes,
Breathes as a mistake of Fate!

There is also the story of a man whose family was killed
Before his own eyes-his wife shot in the head
And two children strangled
Have those images faded from his mind?
He still works in the army
He still works there everyday
Never questions why,
He too is living by, living a life to wake up to work in the day
And Sleep to wake up to work again and never question anything ever!

The woman who is mindless,
Who lives alone in the eerie ruins of a mosque
Staring at blank skies in the morning, eyes still, mouth open,
her countenance expressionless.
She screams the whole night in fear ,frantically
perhaps fear of memories…fear of darkness or of life itself
Her son killed his own sisters a year ago
For no apparent reasons .
She too lives, an existence, as one of the numbers in the demography department!

What do these people see?
What do they hear?
Dark corners whispering to the fading shadows?
Mysterious aloofness lurking beneath the soil ?
Deserts flashing before eyes, sandless duneless deserts…
and then vanishing under the starless moonless sky?
Mirages drowning into the silence,making way for more stillness?
What goes on in their minds?
What makes them one among us,The living?
I wonder!

No one speaks but the stillness
No one complains but the shadows
This is the Land of colourless vision,soundless speeches
Where Life ebbs into the hollow of fear
People are born in silence and die therein
This is the land of umpteen stories
Land where the world choses the story they want
There are people living here too...but...
their stories are never written nor told
They are the unwanted characters of an unborn story!

OUR JOURNEY- In memory of Achan on his 6th Death Anniversary-

2007-09-13T02:08:00.000-07:00

We set out on a journey together
through time ,through destiny and through life!
We set out to reveal the meaning together, but,
it was abandoned when you left!

I followed every footstep of yours...
I followed them with precision and reverence
And each time I stepped into your footstep
It was a revelation;I felt humbled at how small i am...

I chased every cloud you chased...
And like you made me promise...I trusted the wind...
Trusted the wind to take me to the silver cloud!
And when I found it..to no surprise...your footsteps were on it too!

I dreamt every dream you painted me
I dreamt them in colours of love and strength;
except one...that remain undone to this day..
as the wind spilled ink on it the day you left!

I thought my journey ceased, as there were no footstep....
I thought of you and I wept with my face in the sand...!
Heat of the sand screamed on my face..and...
Tears dried before they formed; they died even before they were born!

I blamed myself, I cursed myself...
and lifted my face from the sand...I looked around...
and i found...the desert was empty without you..
and I felt alone, very alone for the very first time!

I got up and prepared to go back...
When I noticed something in the sand...that looked familiar,
They were your footsteps;footsteps that you left behind..
That you left for me...before you left!

I cried and cried until next dawn,oblivious of all,
and tears streamed from my eyes,and touched the earth ..
the sand was wet finally;each grain listened to my sorrow,
the wind stopped around me too with concern; i didnt feel alone any more!

I realised then,The journey didnt stop after you left
i didnt go back and surrender to fate!
I realised you were there in the oblivion watchin over me,
you never left the journey, you just got there faster!

You left me your trail to reach you,
And I follow with carefullness..Not to disturb a grain of sand...
I look back and see our journey so far...undisturbed by elements
Lying there to tell our story to a time unknown,story of our journey!

I still am following in your footstep,
everytime feeling humbler..
i still chase the cloud and paint your dream...
everytime felling closer..

I feel your presence in every sand..
and every cloud that I chase...
the wind i trust tells me too
that i will meet you soon again!

You live in my journey...and I promise i will go on..
i will defeat the elements and fate ...
I promise to finish that undone painting too...
Finish it in colours that you dreamt of!

And after all the struggle, When i reach the end of my journey,
i know you will be there waiting for me...
After a rough journey, When I complete every dream of yours..
I know you will be there with open arms and your loving smile!