Thursday, November 17, 2011

Confabulation

It's Thursday morning, and although I do have things to work on while at work, here I am writing another blog, "wasting" time in stating the obvious - ie. it it Thursday. But that which seems to be the obvious now, in this moment in time, might that only be a passing phase of skewered perception that within passed moments, in retrospect prove otherwise, in fact not true?

I can hear that voice in my head even as I write that asking me if I just can't write simply. That's part of it, in writing here I write my thoughts and feelings and at the other hand these thoughts and feelings although showcased in a public portal, somewhat protected by registration mandates for viewer discretion and, in the very way I write, somewhat vague and abstract, so that my own thoughts and feelings are also protected by a modicrum of privacy.

*sigh* So I had saved this, and then come back to continue and me being me, BOY did I write alot, and GUESS WHAT, I hit the submit button and it tells me to log in- pretty much losing everything I wrote. Good lord. Let us have a moment of silence for the words we have lost.

Moving on, or trying to come up with the same words I had written previously- which we all know is impossible- there we have it, my words are now memories, and only remembered by myself. I shall indulge myself in a luxury:

:(

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Crush

I've got maybe 6 minutes until the reason I'm inspired to write makes an appearance, and although it's what I have been anticipating all afternoon from the moment of our last farewell, I've got to admit that I also am hoping I am actually allotted that said 5 now minutes remaining. That being said, its about two weeks since the last Happy Friday I was feeling incredibly exuberant. Since then the swing has swung as it does, day in, day out, moment now, moment passed...And from the landmarks holding the bridge between last Happy Friday a forthnight ago, to this Friday, there as much as a string bridge sags, have also been lows. But that's not what I wanted to get down in words. All too often I find that, in the past at least, on the most part I write in solitude, for those moments when I'm down and in so being, alone. Or, I must amend that last bit - feeling alone. Because despite the stubbornness or the self pity or whatever low frequency I'd allow myself to wallow in underneath it all I do know, most blindly, that I am not alone. Outside of my own heart there beats another which is in tune to the pace of mine and care for it. That says alot and that gives the greatest perspective to life. In a span of maybe two hours, you can be so overwhelmed by the multitude of thoughts and feelings that can overcome you, you can go from thoughts of the macrocosm around you to the relevance of it inward, and vice versa. When I say you 'can' I believe in fact you must, you cannot live without doing this, consciously or subconsciously. No matter what you may be doing, caught up in, your mind on another level is translating everything you do to another level above, within. For me, it could be listening to music, reading, sitting in silence, overhearing random conversations, talking to someone you don't care to talk to, listening to the one who matters the most.

The oddest thing is, I hardly even knew these words would be what would be typed out when I clicked the New Blog button. None of it. And I knew it would happen because like the way thoughts go and flitter from one thing to another, these words are replicas of my thoughts.

I'm writing because I'm glad. Today could be anointed as a special day for many reasons. Friday. Or 11/11/11. Or Remembrance Day. Or, as in my own personal case- waking up early while it is still dark to the full power of the Moon shining straight through my window into my face, over me. Entirely washing over me from where my head lay on my pillow. Maybe it was one blessing in replacement of the usual one, because it was a morning I didn't have that special person to send me off to work after fussing over my breakfast and lunch being packed. Despite my own complaints over that fussiness, I missed it even if it were for just that morning.

And well, that's how much I got down before the reason arrived :D maybe more another day.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Pretending

“There’s a lot that goes around it. Trust and respect and—” He cleared his throat again. “Attraction. But the center’s a reflection of all of those things, all your strengths and weaknesses, hopes and dreams. They catch fire there, in the center. Maybe it blazes, maybe it simmers, smolders, but there’s the heat and the light, all those colors, and what’s around it feeds it.
“Fire doesn’t only destroy. Sometimes it creates. The best of it creates, and when love’s a fire, whether it’s bright or a steady glow, hot or warm, it creates. It makes you better than you were without it.”

Despite the arguments, moodswings, sensitivity, frustrations, getting annoyed, debates...every single day, more than you know, more than even I'm able to know, I'm thankful, so incredibly thankful, for it all.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Forever Fall-en

On the way home, the wind was blowing hard, the leaves scattering here and there, rushing past the face and spiralling up towards some destination in the past. Oranges, browns, taupes, reds, beige, here and there sparsely tinted with remnants of youthful green. A grey yet sombre evening, with that wet chill of a lingering rainfall, signifying the autumn that buries and gets buried to be reborn again in spring. There was something melancholy in the atmosphere, whether it was within or without was hard to distinguish. There was a roiling wave of upending turmoil that was urging to come out from a long forgotten slumber. As I walked through the cascades of fallen leaves, I brought my eyes down from the flock of birds up there amid the heavy clouds to rest on the sight of a tree stump, chopped down, no more.

The significance was prominent, and that's when the turmoil within decided to come without. I fought against it, to restrain it: the thoughts, the memories, the feelings that come out without reason- long time forbidden to the self for the simplest reason of futility. The tree, where countless moments spent a growing friendship, playing in the treehouse that was OURS, the decisions of how to build it, who should do what, and the underlying best part of it all was that it was ours and together we'd share all of it, the times you'd catch me if I fell off a branch, or be ready to steady me as I carelessly made a fool climbing it, the times you'd have a ready hand for the times I'd trip over a root, teasing you for the many admirers who wanted to carve their name with yours on it, annoying you with my craziness, getting in your face just to make you know that you weren't alone, the times I'd swing away in my own world while you'd be leaning on the trunk doing your own thing, the minutes, the days, the months, the years. Each season watching our leaves fall and knowing they'd be back again no matter what.

"No matter what" really isn't any guarantee, is it? There is something about forever that indicates a perpetuity of positive connotations. And yet, forever is never; forever is those leaves that never come back despite new ones growing again, forever is the colours that change and fade to nothing despite knowing that new colours will be repainted again. Forever is the goodbye, it was nice knowing you, I guess. Or maybe the goodbye that never gets said. Forever could be the whys and the what the hell happened. Or could be those questions, asked forever. Maybe they don't deserve to be asked. There is something about forever that is like a chronic backpain...it just doesn't seem to go away. Oh yeah, it is forever afterall. So who took the first chop? Does it matter now, when answers don't solve problems that aren't there anymore - because no one cares? And if noone does, why am I even asking?

The sun diminished and the light disappeared. The moon winked, and hid behind its clouds. In the pitch darkness I lit a candle and left the bed. The world was sleeping, the wind was whispering. In the flickering light of the single flame, I followed my shadow down the long crinkled path of the fallen, and came upon it, the stump of a tree. I looked at it in silence and thought silently, sometimes, one doesn't get a chance to say goodbye. One doesn't get a chance to tell someone what they'd meant to them. And sometimes, you tell them, try to tell them many times, and you get told goodbye without being told because they aren't there to tell anymore.

And I tipped the candle and let the flame tickle the surface of the long gone tree. It might have giggled, or it might have cried. I turned my back to it as it was engulfed in flames.

Sometimes, it is better to say goodbye.                    

Thursday, August 04, 2011

Spades

I wanted to write a blog, but the thoughts I put down into words didn't seem properly expressed, and even then, to have them read by all and sundry didn't seem so appropriate either. Nevertheless, the words are I, as the thoughts are of I. Subsequently, whosoever "I " is (am) should not go unabashed at the exposure of emotions, or should they? But here they are wandering indecidedly without a proper place to rest. As much as the rest of the being that is I.



How does one put sorrow into words, or express suffering, without it being a form of selfishsness? One holds back the surging torrent of emotion that remains at the very brink, with you fighting with everything within to prevent it from crashing out. How does one cope with the idea that this suffering is only a phase that will surely pass, as is expected of those who stay warily on the outskirts of personal boundaries hoping that this safety alert will soon pass. How does one balance the idea that happiness is so easily attained when one realizes that it is only then that you are not left alone, and when sadness springs forth, so recede those you had around you, tiptoing away with that uncomfortable undertone of helplessness. This is the underpining of much of society; do we grasp strongly to the emotions that pull us under and devote ourselves to the solitude this incorporates, or do we continuously paint ourselves with comical red smiles of clowns upon the sadness that lies below so as to ensure that if not ourselves perhaps others would be convinced that although perhaps an act, at least it is an attempt, and we can all laugh in relief, at least to laugh together.



And when dealt a blow we have only the option of having to deal with it in return. How long does one continue to deal with suffering that prolongs and perpetuates in patterns of errant chaos and order. How does one explain oneself without seeking to be understood when there exists none who wishes to share it in all that it is. And the self; on one hand wishing to slap oneself for the uprising of sadness and on the other wanting to do the same for the false feeling of surpressing it. Is the solution in simply not feeling? And the frustration at not being understood and wishing to be- yet also at the unfairness of it, for how does another accomplish this for you, another being, when you yourself cannot do this for yourself?



To smile, not for oneself but for those one cares for without regard for the self and the continuous cycle of loss and life, and just accept it that you have just got to keep giving without ever expecting anything in return, and when you get hurt you bear the pain yourself and just keep going.                    

Friday, July 29, 2011

Bones

I read a poem on the transit coming home today...and it struck me, stuck to me, in the ways words do:

And I shall tell him that the thought of him
turns me to water
and when his name is spoken pale still sky
trembles and breaks and moves like blowing water
that winter thaws its frozen drifts in water
all matter blurs, unsteady, seen through water
and I, in him, dislimn, water in water?

As true: the thought of him
has made me marble
and when his name is spoken blowing sky
settles and freezes in a dome of marble
and winter seals its floury drifts in marble
all matter double-locks as dense as marble
and I, in others' eyes, am cut from marble.


And of course it had to bring to mind the one who makes one feel all this- through, within, without, wherefore, and all the prepositionals that pertain to the emotion. THE emotion. Does one even label it as an emotion? It's a noun, it's a verb, it's...like the universal solvent, a universal solution..yet, not the physical entity as defined by science, but the solution as in the counterpart of the puzzle.

It made me think, how does one FEEL that ... amazing feeling, and it brought to mind the idea that to feel that extremity of emotion indicates a novelty in the experience of it. That it means you're just beginning, that it's a phase that phases out. Why should it be so however, I questioned. Bringing to mind again that line from a book which concluded that it was the lack of... that was the entirety. That it was in ..wanting. Which took me to the train of thought (apt enough for being on the train itself)... that the query asking for the difference between 'falling in love' and 'being in love' could be differentiated in ascertaining that falling had to do with wanting..and love itself in giving. To have only one indicates an imbalance, and therefore to want and to give and... perhaps, to want to give as well as to receive and be wanted in return, sums up the ultimate balance in attaining that ultimate contentment.

And that contentment, at the moment I was thinking all of this is what made me more than grateful for all the little parts that led to the whole. Somehow jumping and sometimes missing the little slippery stones trying to not fall in and drown did in fact lead to the dream island. Wherefore next?

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Decombobulations

'I love you' means that I accept you for the person that you are and that I do not wish to change you into someone else. It means that I do not expect perfection from you-just as you do not expect it from me. It means that I will love you and stand by you even through the worst of times. It means loving you when you're in a bad mood or too tired to do the things I want to do. It means loving you when you're down-not just when you're fun to be with. 'I love you' means that I know your deepest secrets and do not judge you for them-asking in return only that you do not judge me for mine. It means that I care enough to fight for what we have and that I love enough not to let go. It means thinking of you, dreaming of you, wanting and needing you constantly, and hoping that you feel the same way for me.
And its May again. I don't know how I would be able to let this go by without putting something down in words; to let this season of change go by without the acknowledgment of trying or wanting to remember it again later on does not seem too feasible, at least for me. And change, ahh that's the crux of the matter, when isn't it? For it is not simply in the renewal of foliage and the rebirth of greenery, nor the return of birdsong so long missed. Along with such change comes the change that is ever present within, and that may be simply the reflection that mother nature asks of us to examine when she manifests it in our world.

As we walk along farther towards that destination that we only hope to know without ever truly knowing, what bonds do we let trail behind slowly yet assuredly diminishing its hold upon us - or our hold on it. Whatever it may be, perhaps in assuming aspirations from air into solid proof of reality, other realities are no longer required.

When you have been dreaming of that one thing for as long as you can remember, when it is that simple and sure wish deep within you despite your protestatons and pretensions otherwise, when it is that deeply rooted want that gives you an unconscious fuel to hoping somehow and therefore continuing in existence, when it no longer a castle in the air, but a place that you're walking in daily, exploring, astonished at its actuality - then what?

What substantiates the emotional adjustments needed to come to terms with it all? A need to buckle down and keep it all there, before it somehow evaporates again into that castle in the air versus that somewhat guilty pleasure of actually enjoying it and therefore, somehow make it a reality that you must accept. And in accepting, does one not begin to take it for granted, to acknowlege its presence and existence reflective of assumptions and presumptions, that all lessen the worth of that which is so worth it all?

It may be no wonder that within comes storms of unbidden emotions, of uncertainties and the need to appreciate it all for what it means, but also to be able to curtail all obstacles that take away from the possibility of really taking permanent residence in that palace. Unspoken, inarticulatable...yet so implicit in understanding, without real comprehension.

Why is that which feels so right still such a surprise, the expected becoming unexpected, the inevitable a revelation. Perhaps because it goes beyond words in actuality and its power and worth never truly gauged for the very reason that it was never experienced.

=]                    

Friday, February 25, 2011

Ninja

The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.

Tu mera jahan bhi, tu mera khuda bhi
Tu hi hai yahan bhi, aur hai wahan bhi
Tu, hai saare manzar ka
Tu meri zameen hai, tu hi aasman bhi
Rab na adaa ki hai woh khushiyan bhi
Tu, kahun sach bakhuda
Tu hi rubaru hai, tu hi chaarsu hai
Baaki ab raha kya
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Tere hone si hi hai mere toh dono jahaan
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Teri hi raahon mein hai meri manzil ka pata

You're all I want
You're all I need
You're love has set me free
You're all I want
You're all I need
You're love has set me free

Main dard se har gadhi aa hifazat karun teri
Haan ik shajar banke main dhoop sehrunga
Teri main (raaton mein)
Dard se (aankhon mein)
Har gadhi (khawaabon mein tu)
Aa hifazat karun teri
Haan ik shajar banke main dhoop sehrunga
Tu hi aarzoo hai, tu hi justaju hai
Baaki ab raha kya
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Tere hone si hi hai mere toh dono jahaan
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Teri hi raahon mein hai meri manzil ka pata

You're everything I want
You're everything I need and all my love
Heaven is what I feel when you're around
You're everything I want
You're everything I need
You're my dream come true, you're my dream come true
I wanna spend forever with you

Main ishq mein har gadhi bas ibaadat karoon teri
Ya baant loon sang tere har khushi
Jo bhi ho meri (raaton mein tu)
Ishq mein (yaadon mein tu)
Har gadhi (saanson mein tu)
Bas ibaadat karoon teri
Ya baant loon sang tere har khushi
Jo bhi ho meri
Tu hi khamoshi hai, tu hi guftagu hai
Baaki ab raha kya
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Tere hone si hi hai mere toh dono jahaan
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Teri hi raahon mein hai meri manzil ka pata



:) 

Friday, February 18, 2011

Kuch

It's surprising, the greatest of happinesses comes along with its portion of sadness. Just to be able to have it you know that the time starts ticking just as quickly for that time when you have to let it go.

When every other little thought takes that form, and where from every thought comes a smile, a laugh, alone or among strangers; you choke it back thinking - how will I ever survive without this?

What do you do when you're faced with losing that which is so much a part of yourself? When finally you've realized something beyond all the hopes you once had, a reality in your hands, but just as likely to become a faded memory?

How much more you learn to pray, not to gain what that you've found, but to be able to retain it, for that much more longer.

It's a pain deep inside, a quiet sorrow, and a despair for that which completes you. Everyday you have it, its a day of happiness, and so ironically just as much the worst of pains.

It becomes a big sigh, where words cannot be told. Where words are not said, but shared in an unspoken manner.

One whole; once apart, but now together, how can they ever separate again?


Jaane yeh kya hua
Jaane Yeh kya hua
Hum dono ka yun milna
Aise paaas aana

Jaane yeh kya hua
Jaane Yeh kya hua
Abb har pal anjana hai
Dekho hona hai
Aur kya

Jaane kyun lagta hai
Dheere se haule se
Geet koi Dil hai ga raha

Jaane kyun lagta hai
Abb jaise har lamha har pal hai
Muskura raha

Jaane kyun lagta hai
Dheere se haule se
Geet koi Dil hai ga raha

Jaane kyun lagta hai
Abb jaise har lamha har pal hai
Muskura raha


Tumhein hai pata
mene pehli baar jo dekha tumhein
Mujhe yeh laga
chahun bhi to kaise pa sakunga
Tumhein
Sapna tha ek din to
main hoon tum ho
Tum dheere se bolo
Tumko apna mana hai
Dekho hona hai
Aur kya

Jane kyun lagta hai
Dheere se haule se
Geet koi Dil hai ga raha
Jane kyun lagta hai
Abb jaise har lamha har pal hai
Muskura raha

Kahun kya bhala
Tumhi ko to mein chahta hoon Suno
Tumhein jo mila
Mene jana main bhi zinda hoon
Suno
Kahun mein kya tumko
Main hoon tum hoo
Bas itna sun lo
Tum the koi deewana hai
ho na hai aur kya

Jaane yeh kya hua
Jaane Yeh kya hua
Abb har pal anjana hai
Dekho hona hai
Aur kya


Image

Monday, January 17, 2011

Eternity

Rapture, where have you left me?
I’m so cold
Why have you put me on a hold?
I made a promise with you
And stayed so true to you
Still you’re draining me of soul
Feeding me the cold
Leaving me so alone


I've got the thoughts, swirling around like fireflies
about my head.
Each has got a light of its own, and they flicker,
flickering on and off
About my head, in and out
And Ive got the thoughts but not the words
How do I begin,
How can I?
It's beyond even me myself and-
I
dont know how to begin
Without an end to start with.
I’m moving around around around the thought of you
I’m yearning to slip and fall and crash into you
I’m moving around around around the thought of you
I’m yearning to slip and fall and crash into you

Would it bring you to me if I lost myself in endless sleep?
Would it help to fall captive to an empty dream?
Would you rescue me if I fell into obscurity?
Would you catch me just before I’ve fallen in too deep?

Would you rescue me if I fell into obscurity?
Would you catch me just before I’ve fallen in too deep?
In too deep
In too deep.