Frozen memoirs

The only thing that remains unfrozen
on the white slate under a black gaze
hanging like snow flakes on a windless night
are my memories


They wander like the flowing river
eternally connected to the source
not stopping or waiting
flowing and gathering more memories
like the pebble stones
and die in a greater pool of stories untold



Some memories are left on shore
some lost in the oceans roar
yet others in strangers tale


Memories of the dangling hand, that wasn't held
Memories of destined serpent turns of fate
of unknown falls, unknown until felt
Memories of gushing chatter echoing of deaf valley


Memories, they dry to leave trace of a life that once was
Once remembered to be forgotten forever

Childerns Story

Children they all dress alike

for lessons to think alike,

they flock together to memorize the lines

forgetting their own poetic line,

growing in peaceful slumber time

they squash the questioning mind,

a perfect pillow to sleep awhile they seek

giving way to a generation blissfully weak,

crawling under moonlit night

they take their shadow for reflection might

The Road

What is more charming than to dream while walking over a lonely road?

One enjoys the sunlight and the caressing wind when climbing the mountains, or strolling by the sea shore. And in his day-dreams, what illusions, what love-poems, what adventures pass in two hours through the mind of one who idles along a road. Every possible hope, confused or joyous, penetrates him with warm, light air, he inhales them with the breeze, and they give birth in his being to an appetite for happiness that increases like the hunger he acquires in walking. Sweet fleeting thoughts sing in his soul as he comes closer to nature.

I follow the road.........

- GUY de MAUPASSANT

Dream

They started with sun coloring the sky,

chirped along with the birds disclosures

embraced each other

as cold winter breeze wraps a lone soldier

blossomed, as yellow does in suns warmth,

in warm comforting words ,

silence that fell, fell as leaves twirl in autumnal fall,

lives blended as dusky sky melts with the sinking fire ball

in darkened space they spoke with their lips locked

and locked together they dreamt of each other

only to wake to the jingling noise

they trade their dream for fame

Shepherd Boy

Sun has watched me watch

the sheeps graze the ground,

sheeps have watched me watch

the sun go down,

a million star eyes watched me watch

my dreams alone,

birds have watched me watch

the herd dance to my tune,

glaze has watched me watch

me holding staff as my own boy,

world has watched me watch

my life go by,

they all have watched me raze to ground

knowing just enough to call me a Shepherd Boy.

Longest Night

Under the cloud scared sky

over looking lake reflecting yellow lights,

with neither clouds nor lights

being part of the dark sky or motionless lake

life, seems to scar and reflect

without being as much part of me

and I wandered to the broken voice

of deaf singer lost in words

on the longest night

Travellers they wait for the whistles blow

to chug along the parallel lines,

dogs they search trees lined

for they care less about the fruits borne

I, on the other hand

wait for fruits to fall at the dogs bark

standing on a platform where the train never stops

on the longest night

Graceful Prayer

Birds they chirp

as she wakes for others dream,

sun peeps to watch her bathe

bathe like the cool drizzle for earths face,

Water pearls slide along black strings and cling

cling like rain drops do to a trees only leaf,

And she wears the blues that

sky blankets the washed earth with

Saint he sins

for prayer was never on his lips,

like clouds that cuddle and make thunderous cry

She knocks shrines chime,

and candles, they burn bright

but fade to match her glints sight

The incense die to

silent prayers waft,

blessed feels the divine

for her beauty humbles His creation

But you

like the mountain that dwarfs
everything else but the sky


like the sunflower that seeks
nothing but the suns sight



like the lonely pilgrim belief
everything is a lie but the faith


like the peacocks hide
of colours, tucked but to sorrow clouds

like the river flow

stops at nothing but the blue sea

like the heart meant for love,only not yet
bleeds for no one but you

Forget whats on my Mind

Thoughts arise from third eye

and die as a writers lie

like Waves born from Oceans depth

disappear on the shores step,

ideas take gray shape

in the contours of mind space

like water coloring the earth blue

only to the shape of land left clue

lines I cry out aloud

to be echoed in broken voice

like the pregnant cloud

which burst back oceans life

last few thoughts flicker

before the smoke lingers

like the receding tide

which lost to sands might

Dear Seed

Lay the seed

so that red earth gives way,

sunlight finds its way,

water falls prey,

and sky bows

to touch the furits one day

Reap, as it

Spirals mind

with radiating fragrance fine

Dissolves sunshine

by it arching crown,

Whispers

in blanket of darkness,

and quenchs lips lust

by furits borne first

As a price to pay

bury my life

to be one with Seed

of love

Portrait of a Fool

At first look

it seems like the person at last nook

the one who roared arrogance

to mask shrieking confidence

the one who held his head high

only not to meet worlds eye

the one who showed tooth's shine

to eclipse dark thoughts line

the one who outsmarted self

hoping to fool world wide

never realizing as days go by

he wouldn't identify I

Coming Soon

Sit by the window

Wait for the moon to rise

for the tears to tickle a smile

to be a gypsy and find a way home

It’ll all come

It’ll all come, come soon

Wait under a tree for the sun to rise

to dabble around for a set life

to be the rock for the ripples cause

for the wind to carry the silence

It’ll all come

It’ll all come, come soon

as you read along

and wait for it to end

the end has come and

You may think it come too soon.

Fill in the title

Help me fill the time

where pleasure is in pain,

its in the wait

for light to close night,

in rain drop to die

in oceans might,

the wind to blow into

silent oblivion,

in the flames flicker

to smoke,

theres more to write

with words just not right.

Fortune Teller and his Sketch

The lines on your Palm

are his tools to draw the sketch,

with the open hand

you beg for key to destiny,

in return he builds the future

for you to see, which was yours once

but now for everyone to see

you question the subject

as much as the creation

for you are destined

never to know the answer

Old Man and His Blue Plastic Cover

An old man lay on a railway platform

his life tucked in a blue plastic cover

as a pillow to comfort his mind

he was certian of his wait to be furitful

only uncertianity being when or may be which one to board...

A Shawl , a wollen cap and a pair of gloves : Trek to Beas Kund

Have no fear
For when I'm alone
I'll be better off than I was before
I've got this light
I'll be around to grow
Who I was before I cannot recall


For someone coming all the way from Andaman and the other coming from Mumbai for trek inHimachal, you would think the planning for the trek to be to the T. And so it was, atleastaccording to us. We knew we would go to Manali from Delhi, trek to place where we would find snow for sure and ya, that was our plan. And for all this planning , one of us decided to carry a shawl( yes, a shawl for a trek to beat the cold!!!) and mind you he carried only a shawl and nothing else, second person carried a pair of woollen gloves and yours truly , carried a woollen cap. Between the three of us ,we though we were carrying enough to beat the nature.

Day 1 :
After we landed in Manali we decided to hire a guide and settled on our itinerary.
It would Manali to Solang en rout a water fall, solang to Dundhi (Camp for the night), Trek toBeas Kund and come back to Dundhi for the night and then head back to Manali.

So we started for the first leg, 17kms to solang.

The waterfall 5kms away was visible right from the start and didn't look promising. But for the three of us it was just the start and 5 kms was piece of cake,that's what we thought.Hmmm.... After, I think, walking for 2 kms , we knew that it was going to be long and painful day, but we kept the thought to ourselves, least we should show any sign of weakness this early. And mid-way through the steep 3km hike the signs of weakness were loud and clear, not that we admitted , it was evident from our walk and appearance. Finally we got to the waterfall. 5 Kms closer and it still didn't look promising. What we found there was a temple like millions of temples in India under a tree and firangs like millions of them in India, reading a book basking in the sun. I don't know whats with them to walk 5kms to read a book. Anyways, we decided to drop our bags and hike to have a even closer look at the waterfall. And to our surprise what do we find there, some more firangs and yes they too were reading... as if 5 km walk wasn't sufficient for them to read, I guess they understand things better as they go higher up.

We decided not to disturb them any more and moved on. This stretch was rewarding as we walked through apple orchards, tiny villages where life was ancient as it could get. And then it had to happen, we hit a road block..... Army camp.... Our guide was doing this particular trek for the first time and decided the best way would be to jump over the compound and walk through the army camp.Manali, 4 guys, tresspassing a army camp... didnt seem a wise thing and convinced him to walk around the camp. After walking around for half an hour , we found walking through the camp was the only way. So 3 wise men did just that and finally reachedSolang.
Walk from Solang to Dundhi is not much to write about.

At Dundhi it was time for us to setup the tent and spend the night. After having trekked for 21kms, next leg , 7kms, from 3000 m to 4200 m, seemed impossible. As it hap pend, there were 3 women in their early 40's at the camp, who liked to call themselves girls.They asked where we were headed and with pride we told them we would scale to 13500 feet, and assuming that this is where their trek would have ended and would not even dare to venture any further, we asked them about there trek. And the reply" Ah... we three girls trekked to 19000 feet, just came back form a six day trek". :-O . We walked away with our pride shattered and, well we slept like logs.

Click to Say Cheese

Take out a digital camera and you don't have to say cheese for me to smile. Oh, I so love cameras.
When Aamir Khan in DCH said the first word he uttered wasn't mama or papa but camera, I laughed at the ridiculous attempt at humor. But the last couple of years Ive been proven so wrong by likes of him, not only was their first word camera its the only word you hear from them while travelling .In times like these , when its so happening,not only does the tiny object help you capture those precious moments of life, it also brings out the "true" you , the "inner most" you and captures it.And how thankful should we be.

You have the self obsessed. They are self sustaining kind. They don't need no backdrop, light, reason/occasion. Camera is out and there is one and only one subject, the person holding the camera. They thank the lord for the small LCD screen for without one they wouldn't have been able to see their TINY ego. Its no surprising then, that they never seem to be satisfied by the image of themselves.They say looks can be deceiving but these 'smart' souls are not deceived by the image of themselves and continue clicking till eternity for the right look to be captured.

You have the artists. They are the ones who truly believe they will change the world with their unimaginable view. They take shots of sun in black and white to make a point that moon and the sun are the same. Stupid as we are, we get the point cause of their creative geniuses. They scale mountains and capture the lush green landscape in sepia mode and claim nature as truly beautiful.How I wish I had that kind of unimaginable view of the world.

Then you have the clickers. Before starting out , be it a trip(doesn't necessarily have to a long one..could be as short as a trip to local grocer) or your daily routine, they click to remind you of your life. You open the door "click", waiting for the lift "click", inside the lift "click", get out "click".Ahh, how thankful am I for making me remember such important achievements of life. They have a fantastic reason to do the same, "God of small things", beauty always is in the small things of life. Hmmm....

Last but not the least, you have people like me. They are the ones, for some odd reason, the camera never seems to capture their smile, excitement or inner happiness . Cant wait to be infront of one. Hoping my true emotions are captured this time round.

The Velvet Bulldozer : Albert King

For people who have gown up listening to the likes of Eric claption, Mark Knopfler the dream always has been to pick up a guitar and making it sound like them.Of course, some of us might have actually gone ahead and picked a guitar, only to realize that we aren't just as good as they are.(Then there are few naturally gifted souls, who as soon as they pick up the guitar, tujhe dekha tho, flows as smoothly as ShahRukh saying Kiran.I wouldn't name then as they are on the way to stardom and you would get to know later than sooner.)


Anyways, I don't know how to play the guitar nor do I have the technical knowledge of music to analyze music of one of the Three Kings of Blues. Well then , I am here to just suggest some real amazing blues that Ive heard off late.

Being a south-paw, there is an added pleasure in watching him play. With songs like Born under a bad Sign, Blues power and Others you obviously take notice of his guitaring skills but also take note of voice and singing style. Having influenced the likes of Eric clapton, Jimi Hendix , Stevie Ray and other, its no surprise that many of his songs have been covered by them.

Even if you aren't much of blues listener or want to start listening , Take it on little brother for he sure Knows how to play the Blues for You.

PS: This post is a confession of wanting to play the guitar for a long time and not coming remotely close. Its also meant to take a dig at someone (music runs in his blood) who enjoys violin shows.

1984

"That the choice for mankind lay between freedom and happiness, and that, for the great bulk of mankind, happiness was better."

With a choice to make between expressing my thoughts and having my thoughtscontrolled here I am, with my very first blog, ignoring BIG BROTHER.

Having tried my hand at reading the book 5 or 6 years back and failing to go beyond the three slogans of the party, this time round, with ages of time and insanity to kill, Ive achieved what lead character Winston did, love the Big Brother.

With a robotic life set for him by the party in Ocenica, Winstons instinctive need to break free is what appeals in this life of wanting to do something different yet following the routine. Optimistic of not being alone in the quest there is an intrinsic fear of being the lone lunatic, but he finds quite naturally, Julia, love of his life as the partner in crime. But before they could break the party down, they had to let souls free of the torcher brought about by not having had sex in a very long time. And hence, you have a series of rendezvous for love making behind the bushes etc etc , where you have no telescreen(Even if they had done it, the guy on the other side wouldn't have been too impressed :) ).

But now comes the interesting part, when they are caught making love. Its not the act which is illegal or immoral, its the thought which warrants their arrest and are taken to one of the four pillars i.e. Ministry of Truth. O'briens explanation of the world as they rule it and the reasons for the same would leave Smiths (of the Matrix fame) monologue on humans as kiddish.Ridiculing the past forms of governance, he sets about ensuring that dead men don't become martyrs as was a mistake made by the previous totalitarians. The book starts to haunt as O'brien methodically works on Winston to break his will, his desire and control his thoughts. Even before Winston its the reader who is curious to know about Room no. 101. Its here that the books succeeds in controlling you, as you doublethink , on your own life.

Its 2+2=5 for the book.