Muse Memoir...

New Song

2012-01-01T21:28:00.000+05:30

One life

Many desires

One soul

Various attributes

One heart

Many emotions

Of being

And Obsessions!

Twosome

One story

And the story begins…

ps: A very Happy New Year Bloggerati! :)

Black Magic

2011-12-05T02:51:00.014+05:30

Everything fails here

Fails utterly

Fails bitterly...

The confessions that I seek to make

Are so dark

Perhaps the ink would read

Only black.

The magic that amused once

Now torments the very soul

With the name that it is given;

Black.

I still love it

As nothing will change now;

For what I have is black,

What will remain is black.

SOL

2011-12-04T03:00:00.005+05:30

He is utterly shabby. Couple of loose entangled coils in place of hair, projected randomly in all directions. What I was first mistaken of as boots were actually socks torn up at ankles and pulled onto the jeans that made them look such. He wore snug fit dark green jumpers. I am of opinion that they were light green, once upon a time. One eyed I guess, as he could barely open the other, wrinkled skin which had been creased darker with dirt. Old fellow, lost sanity...

He came to our hostel canteen quite frequently. An object of interest for long, I wanted to know about him. At times when I went to collect my tea he would make way for me politely. I was amused by his mannerisms. Discussing about him with my friend I made up my mind that I would learn more about him the next time I come across and also provide some monetary help as well.

---x-x---

He was ordering tea while me and my friends also chatted over cuppa. But sadly I only had fifteen bucks but still, I and a friend rushed after him...caught him at a distance. I panted clutching the money tightly inside my sweatshirt pocket. My friend initiated;

"Hello ! Humein aapse baat karni thhi?"

"Haan boliye?" He replied in a weak voice.

I got numb, had never heard him talk. Couldn't judge if he was normal. I thought he might grow violent anytime.

"Aap kahan rehte hain?" We asked.

"Yahin peeche."

"Peeche kahan."

"SOL (School of open learning) mein." He answered instantly.

I was not sure whether to give him the mean amount or not, I was still clutching it tightly.

"Aap kya karte hain?" We continued our kya- kyun- kaise stuff.

"Main registrar huun." He offered us tea which he was holding. We politely declined. I was sure by now that he had lost his sanity. Yo man ! I buy it, you are a registrar. I am queen of Jingalala.

"Acha, aap kya karte hain wahan?"(See again!) I pestered him, scrutinizing tad too much.

He was a bit irritated by that time I guess, he began;

"Listen ! I am a registrar at SOL. What do you think I must be doing. I work there. The designated work." He spoke this in English with an accent far superior than mine, the money which I had been clutching tightly all this while, dropped inside. It must have taken a humble corner. I did not know what to say now.

"Oh ! We just wished to speak to you". I flaunted my English this time.

"Alright ! It was nice talking to you people." He departed then.

My friend shouted at me " Saali tu issko pandrah rupaye degi? Wo tujhe abhi sau ka note nikaalke deta! Aur chaar baatein aur sunata!"

I came back, my head sunk low. One of my friend's friend told us on our way back that he lives on streets. Rich once, has given most of his property in charity. These days he writes articles for some magazine or like. And also helps students with assignments who know him around.

What do I say now? World's strange !

I would think twice before offering someone money from now on.

And yes, next time If I need some help for assignment,I know where to hit. SOL ! :D

Amidst everything, I get old.

2011-08-23T00:59:00.006+05:30

Random steps

Nowhere they lead

A journey alone

And destination unknown.

The birds there

Must have told you

With them for so long

But to them you don’t belong…

Walking for years now

On same path
I’ve made a mark

Of my presence

…persistence.

No, I’m not complaining

I was made for you

(To be ruined by you)

Both.

You have not forgotten me

Just can’t

I believe in it

I believe in the silence around.

--x-x---

The tiny little droplets

Slowly drip away

But just remember;

Amidst everything

I get old.

Not know...

2011-05-30T11:43:00.001+05:30

The world looks sunny

Ain't it?

Brightly colored fun

And the Ocher grim

But behind all this intent

A monster glares at you.

You've been a kid

Happy-go-lucky

And wham!

It pounces...

It ruined you

Impregnated you with truth

Hard and bitter.

--x-x--

Don't snatch the innocence away

Don't show me the insides

I wish to not know...

Window

2011-05-25T12:42:00.005+05:30

My small window

I had thought

It was to

Bring in some light.

But I failed

To realize

It was also to

Pour out some.

One more time

2011-03-06T22:47:00.004+05:30

I flared a smile,

Met by contempt

You looked down at me.

I did everything

Explained you frantically

You didn’t believe.

You said things

I was hurt

You were hurt.

Did things end?

Yes,

One more time...

ps: To my Bestest Friend.

To my life.

Disoriented

2011-02-10T02:12:00.005+05:30

Opening a book

That I know I would never read

Scribbling on last page of my notebook

Amongst a frantic crowd
Earnest discussions
And one nonsense

Walking the longest stretch at marketplace

With nothing to buy

Ominous silence

And an old friend

Declaring defeat

To avoid further trial.

Never to be visited again…

2011-01-28T00:35:00.005+05:30

I won’t write me anymore

It’s as if I pretend

Scribbling unnecessary mirth

Or pouring down exaggerated woes.

Such a show-off

Drawing attention

I make you laugh

When I’m overjoyed

Agonized

I inflict you with same.

I describe things

Metaphorically

That leaves you stuck

Pondering…

I complicate things

Leaving it worded

Entangled in close knit of ideas

I put forward a brief state

And that is;

Never to be visited again…

ps: This blog isn't shutting down ! Paradoxical you may say.

...

2011-01-11T21:41:00.007+05:30

I wish I could capture
Misery
That strings moans
Somewhere deep
Multitudes famished
And those cursed bellies.

I need a lens
To get closer to*talisman
How cruel life such
Of meagerly destined
The nib broke perhaps.

But the wiser corrects;
You have better
And the humble thing
Is moist now...

*Gandhi's Talisman

Fountain

2010-12-17T20:09:00.005+05:30

I rise from you
Up, ecstatic
I fall back to you
Rejoiced, rippled
Collected in a pool
Tranquilized, possessed.

I am finding myself
After losing
Into you.

Ace and ...

2010-12-05T00:24:00.004+05:30

There is a guy called Ace. How do I know him? That's not important, I am not in this story.

Now there's someone who loves him beyond words. He loves her too. She has been with him through thick and thin, supporting him, guiding him, encouraging him throughout.

Ace has left the city to pursue further studies.And she's still with him. She calls him everyday.

At times he gets irritated by all the fuss she creates about his little things like why he didn't have breakfast, when did he wake up and what was he studying etc. At this he becomes furious and slams the call.

She doesn't minds it at all. She never minds...

Once Ace asked her about her health, her recovery from illness and whether she ate properly and had fruit. To this she replied;

"Nothing seems to please when you are not here. The fruit always gets rotten thinking that you too don't take a proper diet there."

ps: Yes, you guessed it right. Who else than a mother?

pps: If you have a mom, there is nowhere you are likely to go where a prayer has not already been. ~Robert Brault

I Am Home.

2010-11-28T14:53:00.013+05:30

Grim air

To light spirits.

Thick accent

To endless chuckles.

Last minute cramming

To laid back readings.

High on caffeine nights

To many coffee tables.
A bunch of greets

To greeting slangs.

Pleasing allies

To hailing sidekicks.
Victory after victory

To relishing life;

I am here,

I am home.
_____________________
ps: For Thakur & Virus.
pps: Blog begins at home.

And I have something very special to share. For those who've enjoyed "Jab We Met" in the past, they can read everything under the same which was posted here previously (and many more!) on the exclusive blog,
Divine Puppets.

Anonymous

2010-11-10T00:20:00.007+05:30

Disheveled in mind

Thoughts;

They born, they break.

What pained was

When I didn't reach them

For they had reached me .

And the ones which remained unattended

Were the ones which were amply me

Scattered everywhere

Ranting hard, such a show-off !

Docilely now

I very much stand here

Don't I?

Then succumbed to anonymity

Who was it?

NUMERO UNO

2010-10-19T15:02:00.016+05:30

Anirban

Finally, it's one year of penning down, celebrating the joy of writing through ecstasies, afflictions, nostalgia, boredom...

My Best Friend always insisted me that I should have a blog but I was very apprehensive then. I would say, " Bah! Who'll read me?"

But then after having loads of discussions and losing the argument, I finally joined blogosphere.

When I started this blog the only thing that actually bothered me was the content. The regular post that had to be maintained. I was pretty tentative about posting the old poems, stories that were long pressed in the diaries. And when I started blogging there was no looking back. Muse Memoir lived up to its name, stimulating the blue flux everytime. I never really had to open my diaries just for the sake of hitting a post without that state of mind. I got all the inspiration from my right people.

There are loads of people who inspired me during the process. Abhishek aka SiM, is one blogger whom I look up to. The profound content on his blog was a reflection of the infinity of which he often wrote. His style of writing is like none other and so is/are his blog(s). The ambiguity of the former statement is because of hide seek that I often have to play with his blogs. Abhishek is another person who suggested me to start a blog and at that time I was sure, I'll make these two people read my blog if nobody turned up. And then I got immense encouragement from Anwesa di who's been reading me since my very first experience with a blog which was not here but a guest post on Sim's blog. She has been with me since the inception and continues to do so even now. I don't need to comment on her style of writing. She's a princess with the quill.

A lot of people can be called the plinth of this space; Priyala, who appreciated me giving her insight on things which was enlightening indeed. Thousif Raza who was there everytime I opened comments and praised me profusely. Anchit who critcized me at times and lauded me other times. And some who wrote mails to me appreciating the verse that touched them, writhed them, delighted them. I remember every single event vividly.

And then yes, the posts by some blogger buddies that took all my attention at that moment cannot go unmentioned. That lovely verse Ochre by Aayushi Mehta swept me off totally. And the discussion string at "How deep is your Ecology?" at Anubhav's Realizing the future kept me glued to it for days.The fresh attempts by Thousif trying his hand in poetry was worth appreciating.

A year ago it started and celebrating the same. Dedicating it to NUMERO UNO this time..!!!

DURGA

2010-10-15T14:03:00.006+05:30

A familiar fragrance grows on you
the light smoke
sketching an aura divine.
The vivid vermillion around
spreads strong.
And walking through the string of diyas
Intense.

I stand before her;
Ablazed.

Image by: Anirban Chakraborty

Gift?

2010-10-04T18:29:00.004+05:30

The silver box is packed
In the hope to see a smile
The folds pressing love
Layer by layer...

The silver box is opened
In disbelief
And numbness creeps in
With each fold.

That smile slowly fades away
And instead
A tear is dropped.

Wouldn't you love such a gift?

Sweetheart

2010-09-09T20:23:00.003+05:30

He: It feels as if I have seen you taking birth, as a toddler, as a cheeky li'l schoolgirl, then gradually turning into a sensible lovely young adult.

I've known you throughout.

---

She: You made faces, I know. Irritated by the unnecessary mirth at times, then, falling for the same silly gal. How casual you looked when I came to meet you.But then the frantic calls when I disappeared.I enjoyed it all from a distance then grew restless myself.
I know you read all my emotions... pretending not to care..you fought hard inside, I know...

But I had to close my eyes, because,

I could see you seeing me...

On World Photography Day

2010-08-19T15:23:00.004+05:30

Insect on a canna lily

"Let there be light."

Photo courtesy: Anirban Chakraborty

Camera Model : Nikon D5000, Nikkor 18-55 VR lens

He loves me/ He loves me not !

2010-08-16T19:42:00.003+05:30

A parchment lying

In corner table there

A thin film of dust

Has yellowed it a bit

The corners curved

Frictioned by thick air

That flows

To settle.

A closer look

And the two eyes

Looked straight into mine

Just the eyes there.

Jinxed,

I listen the bitter-sweet-bitter tale.

It's been a while now.

He's not here yet.

---

What shall I call it?

Somber eyes

Or unsketched face.

And it's

Both.

He Says...

2010-08-07T16:24:00.001+05:30

She's in a deep sleep.

Not everyone knows it.

But trust me,

She's in a deep sleep.

LOST

2010-07-27T18:34:00.004+05:30

Cupped your hands

plunging it deep down

you bring me up

to drink it

to your soul.

But

you stopped and pondered.

What happened then?

I fell from the spaces

Trickled down
where I came from;

Not to be the same forever.

Untitled

2010-07-18T20:43:00.002+05:30

Diamond

Undiscovered, rare.

And just the rough they saw !

How do I blame them?

For

It needs to be me

To see you.

Sophie's World

2010-07-14T13:34:00.002+05:30

Hellenism: About the Cynics

The story goes that one day Socrates stood gazing at a stall that sold all kinds of wares. Finally he said, 'What a lot of things I don't need!'

This statement could be the motto for the Cynics school of philosophy, founded by Antisthenes in Athens around 400 B.C.

Antisthenes had been a pupil of Socrates, and had become particularly interested in his frugality.

The Cynics emphasized that true happiness is not found in external advantages such as material luxury, political power, or good health. True happiness lies in not being dependent on such random and fleeting things. And because happiness does not consist in benefits of this kind, it is within everyone's reach. Moreover, having once attained it can never be lost.

The best known of the Cynics was Diogenes, a pupil of Antisthenes, who reputedly lived in a barrel and owned nothing but a clock, a stick, and a bread bag. (So it wasn't easy to steal his happiness from him!) One day while he was sitting beside his barrel enjoying the sun, he was visited by Alexander the Great. The emperor stood before him and asked if there was anything he could do for him. Was there anything he desired? 'Yes,' Diogenes replied. ' Stand to one side. You're blocking the sun.' Thus Diogenes showed that he was no less happy and rich than the great man before him. He had everything he desired.

The Cynics believed that people did not need to be concerned about their own health. Even suffering and death should not disturb them. Nor should they let themselves be tormented by concern for other people's woes.

Nowadays the term 'cynical' and 'cynicism' have come to mean a sneering disbelief in human sincerity, and they imply insensitivity to other people's suffering.

Sophie's World

Jostein Gaarder

Utopia It Is…

2010-07-08T00:35:00.005+05:30

Today he’s laughing

Today’s he’s enjoying

Full of life, full of love

A day of his puppets

Reflects his verve.

A perfect day planned for them

A classic you see begins;

They yearned for it

So out of reach it seemed

But today they are living their dream.

The subtle fragrance of incense and flowers

Gently wafts in the breeze

Yes truly this is

How it begins!

Purity of hearts

Serenity of minds

That’s how the utopian mates

Were puppets divine.

Gurgling water splashing over stones

The bubbles dance, sings that song

Of the joy that each moment holds

The endless tale of eternal bliss

Putting life to lifeless

Utopia it is…

Making way through those slippery stones

A quest to capture moments so fine

Those cheers and floating laughter

Gawd! It’s all so hard to define.

The melted chocolate

Slaking the souls

Both of them

Enjoying the luxury of their roles

The air of togetherness

Raising the spirits

And those silly attempts to startle, amuse and tease

Aah! Utopia it is…

The master rejoices

For putting up such a fine show

With a heavy heart he drops the curtain

And his tears of joy begins to pour

But the magic of this day will never cease

That’s why we say

Utopia it is

Utopia it is…

Wonder

2010-07-03T00:24:00.008+05:30

Ecstasy

is to find

what you lost

ages ago.

What you dreamt today

can still be lived !

But

to live

a day spent

years ago is;

Wonder.

Someday...

2010-06-28T13:34:00.005+05:30

My contours ripple

neatly combed by waters

gushes smooth

will soon be carried by the billows

miles away...

You sit there

gazing strongly

where in depths

I lie...

And again

you smile today.

I meet you here everyday

hoping that the stream

would flow back

someday...

Here & Now

2010-06-24T13:30:00.003+05:30

Life @ SVL...

expressions of a member

"The depth of a relation does not depend upon the length of acquaintanceship."

- Rabindranath Tagore

It will soon turn out to be an year of glorious association but the fond memories and experiences I'll take from here are profound and worth cherishing.

It goes far beyond the connect of being a reader and books to a level of being a member and a family. The latter though primary is still uncommon.

And I feel so lucky and blessed to have experienced it all.

Study groups, passionate quizzers, objective clubs, enthusiasts of various- it serves not just to be a pool of many but lets the interests of few also survive.

Education workshops, quizzes, debate, book releases and other such events help establish a sense of awareness. And not only this it also gives an alarm to one's own interests.

I've seen myself grow inside out here, an extreme difference both individually and societally by the platform it provides to its members.

It has upsurged wide array of my personality and has groomed me gradually.

Now that I move on to next level in my career, I know I have a mentor and friends here who will be the plinth when I have a journey ahead. Swami Vivekananda Library has given me a mentor that moulded me in the best possible way.

My sincere thanks to this place. I love to be a part of it.

Regards,

A proud family member.

_________________________________________________________________

Sometimes you need to go unguarded

To face the world

At times you need to be raw

To be apart from the herd.

Things have to be forgotten

To start new ones

Things have to be remembered

To reload your guns.

Whatever you desire

You rise up to reach

But midway you might feel

It's not exactly what you seek.

Then what do you do?

Fall back disheartened!

No, there's nothing wrong anywhere

You just had your realization.

I'm in no mood to preach

Just want to say

That the best things in life

Cannot be found by incessant scour

But best when they are self- realized.

ps: I leave it to you all to connect the above two.

pps:Million Thanks to Laxmi Sharan Mishra Sir.

LIFE

2010-06-08T10:39:00.006+05:30

Something prompted me to share this poem with you all which I wrote during fag end of my school days.These lines appeased me when I actually couldn't enucleate them myself. And now that the bequeathed wisdom is coming to fruition, I have to say this about life. The little I understand of it per se...

Good times, bad times
Come and go…

Love and hatred
Yes and no…

Dreams and nightmares
To and fro…

Black and white
Hawk and dove…

Yes, its life
Off-off, glow.

------------------------------------------------
ps: Thanks a lot Thousif for the lovely award.

Never go away…

2010-05-18T11:53:00.005+05:30

They said-

It was over.

Yes, why shouldn’t it?

It had to.

But it didn’t.

They said-

It took away everything.

Everything.

Yes, Isn’t?

No, it didn’t.

Something

Kept safely in a corner there

Still lingered.

Growing through a window

Where prospects were born inside walls

It lived.

Why they wonder?

Aah! Yes…

Someone still lived.

A bit of Tulika...

2010-05-10T22:18:00.011+05:30

Hello Friends,
I realize that it's about time I should share something with you all. I just received a reminder that it was time for my next post. Having read this reminder my gaze fell upon my cupboard which has a paper pasted on which some lines are scribbled in my handwriting. So I thought it would be delightful on my part to tell you something that I've always cherished, that something that marks the inception of my passion for poetry. I used to read various poets till then but they were more like happened to come across reads. But after I read this poet it really made me passionate about poetry. Fernando Pessoa, one of my most favourite poets had actually broken the mould with those lines and the very demarcation established was endless.A few lines from this verse are etched in me and I'll post it marking them in bolds. It's one of the most beautiful verses I've ever read.

THE KEEPER OF SHEEP II

My gaze is clear like a sunflower.
It is my custom to walk the roads
Looking right and left
And sometimes looking behind me,
And what I see at each moment
Is what I never saw before,
And I’m very good at noticing things.
I’m capable of feeling the same wonder
A newborn child would feel
If he noticed that he’d really and truly been born.
I feel at each moment that I’ve just been born
Into a completely new world…

I believe in the world as in a daisy,
Because I see it. But I don’t think about it,
Because to think is to not understand.
The world wasn’t made for us to think about it
But to look at it and to be in agreement.

I have no philosophy, I have senses…
If I speak of Nature it’s not because I know it
But because I love it,
Loving does not mean
What they love, why they love.

To love is eternal innocence,
And innocence is not to think of it…

I hope you all like it.
Best regards,
Tulika

Dusk

2010-05-04T10:47:00.007+05:30

Blades golden brown
crisply stretched around
popped up goats out of nowhere.

Faraway a vast velvet green
lay over a giant
into one deep sleep
enticing dense fog and
a crescent.

Pellucid waters
volatile of vision
changed a course there
and made it here
gushes in
exploring calm...

Disappearing into night
trees grow dark and
there's a spirit
light.

ps: Thanks for telling me to look out of the window.

Rose

2010-04-20T20:25:00.004+05:30

Neatly pressed in those pages

Turned golden

Is my red rose

Turned golden

Are the days of yore.

Carrying soft fragrance

Of some old world

Still preserved in those petals.

Takes me to a place

Where winning some silly game

My cheers grow loud

And your eyes gleamed

I didn’t know

Why!

A smile collected

On a page

A page etched

Of a rose.

Red.. yellow.. Gold..

My life nothing

But strokes

Of few fond colours.

Nothing

2010-04-16T01:20:00.010+05:30

In a small room

all dark, all dark.

In some centre

I sit

shackled

convicted...

God asks me

What did you do?

I say-

Nothing.

My Experiments With Exam

2010-04-11T21:08:00.012+05:30

-PL i.e. Preparation Leave is strictly abided and you start it with enquiring syllabus and scouring books.

-No matter how many days of PL you get, you wait until the "do or die” moment. (That’s the spirit!) B-)

-Exam eve is never celebrated without saying “kaash! Ek din aur hota.”

- Ripley’s believe it or not:

What your prof taught in the whole session can be mugged overnight.

-One all nighter makes you all set for exams, if we had two such then surely one could be professor in that subject.

(But as we don’t have such days, the talent goes wasted). :(

-Answer sheets swell when you have properly studied and they swell to explode if you haven’t. :O

-If you and your friend have come unprepared and you go clueless after seeing the question paper. You fiddle yours wondering, "What the heck is she/he doing!!!"

-After getting the result you blow a fuse:

THIS CAN'T BE MY MARKS ??!!!

**# # @@ **..beep..beep..tarr..tarr.. : commemoration to prof.

~Thus Spoke Student

Awarded !!!

2010-04-10T23:45:00.016+05:30

I sincerely thank Nalini Hebbar Ma'm for having given me this award and getting it from her is an absolute privilege.

These are rules:

1. Thank the person who gave it to you.
2. Copy the award and put it on your Blog.
3. List 3 things you love about yourself
4. Post a picture you love (e.g. a person you adore etc.)
5. Tag 5 people you wish to pass this award on to

As I've already fulfilled the first two, I would come to the third one.
Seriously, this one is tough. I would just say that I'm a narcissist and I love everything about myself. One might say I'm a self-obsessed, conceited, reserved, egoistic girl and they are right. ;)

I would love to pass this award on to 3 people and not 5. I'm doing so because I want to present this genuinely without any obligation and for that I've three people in my mind.

1. Even Odd: My favourite blogger and friend Abhishek who is one of the reasons why Muse Memoir exists. Even Odd has much more to it than lil bit extra.

2. My Life And Times: Anwesa didi for her awesome blog. She has been encouraging me throughout. Thanks you so much.

3. Realizing The Future: To Anubhav, as I've come across some real interesting posts of late.

Now comes the picture. My BEST FRIENDS, Anirban & Ritvik. :)

Untitled

2010-04-06T23:12:00.019+05:30

As I hold these grains of sand

It aches to see them

Slip away.

A curtain specked

Unfurled through my fingers.

Away...

Away it goes...

And then a smile escapes.

I know one day

Each one would come back as
Pearl.

ps: Cheers to gorgeous moments..!!

My Verse

2010-04-01T10:47:00.001+05:30

From the blood of pinched veins

We need to draw

Still many lines

Those words yet to be spoken

That torment somewhere in silence

All the confinements

Of illusionary being

Has to be crossed.

In wretched obscurity

As line of fire

My verse.

Untitled

2010-03-20T08:23:00.015+05:30

I want to shatter
Hit the floor hard
Breaking into a thousand pieces
The trivials I'm made of
Let loose...

A shrill loud

In dampened silence around
A flash strong
In dull skies.

Walking out of the crowd
Reach at a point
Where identities warp;

Strike the strings.

Reflections...

2010-03-06T03:53:00.004+05:30

The alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.

The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.

But this was not how the author of the book ended the story.

He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.

“Why do you weep?” the goddesses asked.

“I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied.

“Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,” they said, “For though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.”

“But…was Narcissus beautiful?” the lake asked.

“Who better than you to know that?” the goddesses said in wonder. “After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!”

The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:

“I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.”

--Excerpt from Alchemist by Paul Coelho--

I have always been enchanted with these lines.

And with this beautiful thought I bid you all adieu as exams are just around the corner. But I'll be right back next month and will surely catch up with some reading in between. I will miss you all. I mean it.

Warm regards,
Tulika

Walk in the park

2010-03-03T12:23:00.007+05:30

Walking in the park

Thinking stiff

Searching my soul mate

My love to live.

I look shyly

At couples

All so engrossed

I felt lifeless.

A small voice then muttered

What’s the point living?

There’s nobody for me

Nobody caring.

Lost in the maze

I tripped off a stone

A hand just then

Reached for my support.

Oh! That’s the guy I always fancied

Charming as if a fairy tale prince

My heart pounds faster

And I wish he doesn’t listen.

I knew, I knew

My name was christened to him

He is my man

For him I have been living.

Embracingly in his arms

His gaze so wise

I felt myself

Dissolving in his eyes.

Moments later, he asked me if I was fine

I wished to say no

But if he was with me

I could say so.

Breaking the ice we chatted animatedly

All the while

Happiness could kill me

Or I could go senile.

What he said

Touched my heart

Told me that he always

Wanted to start.

His inhibitions had held him

So had mine

I said it took so long

When everything could be fine.

Yes, we are so fearful

Of the word reject

That we often forget

It’s even worse to regret.

Why we leave things?

For destiny to sort

Realizing at last

That we lost the war which we never fought.

I wish I could

Go back and do

The things which I

Must have opted to…

But now is the time

It’s never too late to start

Just rebegin things

And walk in the park…

ps: This comes from my teenage diary. Yes, I had 'mills and boons' fancies. :D

QUIT.

2010-03-01T22:00:00.006+05:30

Once upon a time there lived a man who was disturbed by things around him. He was unhappy with the system. And he decided to call it quits. Today we know it as Quit India Movement.

Yes, you can quit. Be in the system and quit it the right way. And change is inevitable.

Imagination Lost…!!!

2010-02-27T22:59:00.001+05:30

Feelings and desires

Shaping my thought.

A quest to pen it down,

And all of a sudden my imagination is lost.

A lump in my head ,

Growing bigger and bigger.

The gun is loaded ,

But there’s a glitch in the trigger.

I am helpless,

My heart writhes whilst.

The mind hunts for words,

Together they fight for zilch.

I write three words,

Cutting two of them next.

With the remaining left,

Outlandish it is, I still wish to finish the text.

I recall those days,

When my words had much more to it.

The water gurgled, birds chirped

And I could write the whole world in ink.

Now knowing I will never capture the finale,

I escape the infinite cost.

Converting my travail to trash,

The ink flux ceasefire as my imagination is lost.

ps: This was written 2 years ago and again not because I wanted to write it but because I had to write something which I couldn't finally come up with. Strange are the vents of creativity.I will define it as a moment of creative atyachaar.

Me Verses You…

2010-02-24T23:46:00.000+05:30

Gaze pressed against frozen window pane

And humming some long forgotten tune

Spawning corn fields

Of thin air

That slowly turn golden

Of your warm memories.

Reminded of a familiar scent

Taking places

Glimmering our happy faces.

Snowed for years

But a spread of sun over it

And pellucid cascade

Bathed in own soul.

Gush pristine

Of a quill possessed

Overwhelmed

Words few

Is me verses you…

Enemy

2010-02-22T17:24:00.008+05:30

He awaits me
But when I'm there
I'm ignored.

He awaits me
Hence, he still stands.

Take Care!

2010-02-18T20:32:00.020+05:30

Walking through those streets

Endless footmarks

Of my own treads

I get.

Acquainted alone…

Every night I search for it

A smile distanced

Where a tear was scraped out

Alas! Some forgotten road…

Take me there

Where I can catch one glimpse

Of your silly scorn

And laugh unrestrained.

Rare Sojourn…

2010-02-14T00:10:00.005+05:30

Soft breeze,

Endless water,

Pondering …

Yeah, what else!

Waves combed to your contours.

It seems the world has fallen in love with you.

Forgotten rains, melted crests,

Gushing past me.

The cool calm reminisces,

Gushing inside me.

Your numerous smiles,

Of forgotten origins fly across.

Aah...You,

One elixir,

A paragon of love unleashed.

Some agitation…

The Adam’s ale brewing,

Intoxicated, dancing to some wild tune,

Disturbing my impassioned thoughts.

The small swirls swell bigger,

And up comes one beauty.

Astonished, afraid,

I retreat.

She sits by me,

Drying her tresses.

Myriad questions, tongue tied,

I gaze in disbelief.

And when she looked into my eyes,

More surprised she seemed.

Staring at me,

She made a brief greet.

I uttered hard:

Oh Mermaid!

Does water spirit really exist?

Those great tales of yore.

Vague chimera, another fantasy.

But now I see.

Nodded delightedly,

And then she bade.

Calling her back I asked,

The purpose of rare sojourn we had.

To my curiosity

Of being at the brim

Heard of late,

She sang this hymn,

Oh Gal!

Does Love really exist?

Those great tales of yore.

Vague chimera, another fantasy.

But now I see.

One’s life,

Another’s folklore.

Smiles, further smiles,

And both plunged into life once more.

Waves combed to your contours.

Yes, the world has fallen in love with you.

Arm around my shoulder

And softly you say,

Come, let’s go home

Getting dark by the bay!

~Possessed by Artist~

Angel

2010-02-05T22:32:00.009+05:30

Doe eyed, fair skinned

Delicate and so mine

That touch still lingers…

Finally I had you

After months of enquiry.

As I try embracing you

They prompt:

“Careful.”

Those shiny crystals

Examining me

I wait …

Some familiar smell

Aah! You smile

And I love you back.

My tiny hands

Insufficient

Your intrinsic trust

Powerful.

Hence,

Birth of my angel.

-----x-x-x------

Year after year

Perfect mates

Partners in crime.

Maa screams there:

“Lo… the devils united.”

--x-x--

PS: Rightly said, there's no other love like the love for a brother. There's no other love like the love from a brother.

SPRING

2010-01-30T23:45:00.010+05:30

Spring shall come forth

Teeming blazing water upon ice

Tingling the breaths…….

Shall come as stress lines upon forehead

Sweeping away hardships

Ascending the rugged mountains

It will gush down as rivers

Laying backdrops

Blossoming colours

Modeled as per wishes

Would sprout blithely into the womb.

ps: Can't really express how lucky I am to have posted this. Here comes a unique blend of relations..emotions... The Image comes from my Best Friend, a painting which depicts the aura of spring while the Verse comes from my Dad's book Aur Kuch Nahi Toh, a translation of his Hindi poem Basant.

Muses, I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks.

Daughter

2010-01-29T14:49:00.012+05:30

She cherishes his company

She learns through his ways

She yearns his appreciation

Follows what he says.

Working to make him happy

She’s genuine

Fumbling she lies

She’s honest

Poorly she hides

All real and so mischievously fake

Just anything for his sake.

She imitates him

Muses being him.

She’s a learner

A silly inquisitor

Seeks no excellence

Just being a little girl forever.

A Gift Post...

2010-01-22T10:47:00.014+05:30

Unhurried Footsteps on Moonlit Path

There was time- enough time for them both before the sun rose. This night was theirs. He had traveled more than half the country's length to see her and she had sneaked out of her home after midnight to see him.

She was a bit nervous as she waited. Someone walked in from the darkness. Anxious eyes searched the other's face. The joy of recognition - a sudden twinkle in their eyes. A smile broke on their faces which narrowed a bit as if to ask: "how are you?", but then it grew wider unrestrained like the gushing flood water. Yes it was flood indeed - of emotions - never had they imagined they would meet like this! They were thrilled! Absolutely overjoyed!

For a split second they couldn't decide what to say for they had so many things to say all at once.

He was the first who spoke:

"Miss Nautanki - "

"Haat! I am not talking. Is this a time to meet?"

"Theek hai. I am going back then."

"Oyee - ruk toh! Mein to awevi bol diya.."

"Mein itney dur sey aya - tujhe awevi lagta hai?"

"Arey nehein..."

Before she could say anything: "Ab chup! Pata hi hoga tera naam nautanki kyun rakha hai?".

More smiles. They weren't those sophisticated lovers, you know, who need to present expensive gifts to profess love. For them just being together was enough!

Smiles grew to laughs that reverberated the silent night. At first she was a bit like: "Don't you laugh so loud - others might listen". But eventually his charm did the trick - she was laughing uncontrollably at his silly "useless" jokes. Useless is in quotes because that’s what she called them.

Talks were varied. It hardly had anything to do with love. They talked about the coffee shop, the drying lake, the traffic, their classes, their frustrations, their joys, their lives... Far away the city lights twinkled. Nothing had changed except that two people now were no more two.

They walked, in silence. For not always they needed words to talk. A smile would suddenly creep their face like a flash illuminating their pretty faces as they would have remembered something very embarrassing that had happened to them. And they continued to walk weighing the words carefully before speaking. One of them was a poet you know!

They seemed to be mesmerized. Life was enchanting. Life seemed like spirit inside a bottle - intoxicating, volatile. They wanted to enjoy every minute as dawn approached. Yet like spirit in the bottle time was vaporizing fast and they tried but in vain to catch falling sand with their hands.

Train at 8:30. He has to leave. Never had he felt more helpless - he wished time would freeze.

Byes are indeed a difficult thing.

-X-X-X-

As the train speed past the forests he stood at the door, air gushing past him, his eyes cast leeward. She walked home in disbelieve - she actually met him and he left already! She was shaken.

PS: This comes from a special friend and my favorite blogger- Abhishek.I’m so glad that he dedicated this post to me. A real life fairy tale that shows his eloquence at powerful and vivid expression of sentiments. Best Story I’ve ever read.

Worthy of all praise, can’t thank him enough.

Agnostic’s Woe…

2010-01-18T14:28:00.005+05:30

I am agnostic. I am dogmatic in polemical theology. I come to you in times of trouble. I cry in despair. Plead in misfortune. I retreat to my ways. Conquer all. Come halcyon… I appreciate self in exultance. They say, noteworthy goes undelved, disregarded. I’m agnostic. I‘m dogmatic in polemical theology. They put faith. I raise my doubts. They call it nature. I call it science. Maybe they are learned but I’m one learner.

If, you’re listening;

“Spare me,

I’m just another Human.

I need my time.”

Rise.

2010-01-15T23:28:00.005+05:30

Stop telling me what I’m expected to do.

I’m fed up being a tamed rebel.

I was a free spirit once

Now bottled up in unvarying methods.

You’ve been pointing that finger

Bewitching wickedly.

I follow you

Dismally, regretfully…

But now,

In need of a life

The Rebel Must Rise.

Various Verses II

2010-01-13T21:01:00.011+05:30

(1)

No drops I saw

Yet it rippled

Silence swarmed

And gently echoed

The breeze that swept my tresses

Never blew.

You didn't speak anything

And I heard

All.

(2)

The kiss of love

The touch of art

And my life lustres

With the magic of one moment.

The eternity you brought

They call my life,

" One Halcyon. "

PS: Dedicated to my dear mates "Aham and Anahita".

Brat With A Bang!!!

2010-01-11T16:03:00.012+05:30

Former post on Brat surprised you all and your responses surprised me. So, I thought about giving you some recent updates.

And it starts like this;

I’m a member of a club which conducts weekly meeting where we discuss and attempt questions on current affairs, latest technology, and fair deal of History and Geography. This time the topic which was given, I was little uncertain and perturbed regarding my preparation. The coordinator therefore advised me to seek Brat’s help on the matter.

Now, this was simple I thought as Brat came to my rescue every time. I always had pretty laid back, informal, over a cup of tea chit-chats with him about the most cognitive issues. But due to time constraints, asking him to give me a talk like some prof so that I could give a good write up the next day was an issue for me. Anyhow, I picked up notepad and a pencil as I was going to face Prof. Brat and asked him, “Tell me about Nationalism.”

And yes Brat talked and talked, gave an extraordinary piece of information about all the historians, their books, its contents, his own books and their contents BUT no word came about the term “nationalism”. I then realized we had left nationalism ages ago and had moved onto lighter topics like “Who cooks better in the family?” Definitely my answer pleased Brat. One can’t blame me for that, I have a test tomorrow, you see.

Anxiously I decided to do some googling on my previous query and moved on.

“Non-cooperation” was next in the queue. I expected ideology, aim and objectives for this. And once again, Brat in full swing was all set to provide some empirical results. Enlightening experience, I was actually realizing what non-cooperation was all about!

It was no good learning in this classroom style with him. My disgust was mounting. Therefore, decided to call it quits.

Also, I had to study. Isn’t it? So, I tried Gandhian ways to seek freedom from him or else he wouldn’t let me study. And being a true Gandhian by heart, I didn’t show any trace of disgust or say anything but just spread the books all over the bed and sat on my chair. Finding no space to sit Brat had to leave.

Finally I clinched Victory.

And then I sat studying just to find that the reference material I needed was in Brat’s study. Now if go there, I would be caught again and be further delayed. Still gathered some courage, tip-toed into his room and found the book there on the table. I thought of picking it up and immediately walking out of the room. Just as I did and turned back, Brat called me. I responded submissively and pleaded to wind it up soon or morrow would be a total fiasco.

He asked me to shut up and sit. And surprisingly, I followed. It was reluctant gesture going by the kinesics.

He then talked for some fifteen minutes. Initially the clock grabbed most of my attention but as he advanced it made sense to me, I asked my queries, counter questioned and all became crystal clear.

After that he fiercely asked me to disappear as soon as possible as he had some work.

Never mind, I have got used to such treatment:

“Shut up and Listen,

Good job and Get Lost.”

At 4:30am I sat googling to make fine answers the next day. Eyes baked up running this wiki to that wiki.

Next day, giving the test I realize that the ideologies which were macadamized by Brat washed the paper. His talk had just swelled up my own ideas and I certainly did a good job.

_______________________________________

Moral of the story:

Ask Brat, he knows.

But,

Brat has his own ways.

PS: Trust your Brat guys.

PPS:Those who don’t know BRAT, follow link.

Wasted Wings…

2010-01-05T11:40:00.007+05:30

Gazing out of that snug nest

Long days

It ached.

Life, they say

Fun, freedom, frolic

Just a flight away…

And I escape

Rambler…

The cool air gushed into my lungs

Wings seem to blossom in yellow delight.

Miles and miles of vast expanse lay

I had to show all

The glory of my frame.

And then

Frailty inflicted

Fatigued I sunk

My lungs were weak

And low

I droop.

They didn’t say

It was tough

To go alone, unguided

This lonesome air exhausts me now.

No sense of direction

I know not, to get back

I’m a slave

Of my freedom.

Forlorn, failed

Wasted wings trembled…

Curse ‘em

They fooled

Brought me out

Peeling off the innocent mirth.

“I’ll teach you how to fly, child.”

I wish Mom wasn’t unheeded...

Nothing But Love

2009-12-29T12:17:00.009+05:30

She wanted nothing but love

She desired nothing but love

She seeked nothing but love

Nothing, nothing but love.

She lived for him

Transforming to his ways

Was molding all her wax

To be his soul mate.

Her world was confined to him

But to her it was infinite

She often said it aloud:

“Me and my world, rest I don’t care about.”

But unfortunate winds blew

And times turned sour

Getting hold of a better plan

He excused himself to make a new start.

A myriad questions

Swelled up her tears

Not complaining the least

She thought the problem lied in her.

She lost her world

And was bidding goodbye to all

But now she too had to

Move on, move on…

Losing her soul

She had to be wise

And so embracing the heaven

She closed her eyes.

The boy there realizes his mistake

He then rushes back to apologize

Deciding he would hand himself to her

To punish him as badly as she feels like.

Picking up her favorite flowers

He reaches her home

Just to find her soulless body

Coming out of the door.

Devastated on his knees

He cries out aloud

Writhing for forgiveness

But the heartless girl, she would not speak out.

Seeing his girl in no mood of avenge

His penance, he himself decides

To live as a guilty man forever

And remember his ugly face till he dies.

50 years later, he sits in his courtyard

Remorsing a story bygone

“Once upon a time there lived a girl

Who asked nothing but love, nothing but love.”

Song of the Past

2009-12-24T02:21:00.013+05:30

What a time are we living in?
Is it an outcome of some previous mistake?
Or a mistake,
Yet in the process of take and re-take.

The faces we wear,
Different patterns, different designs.
It wouldn’t have been a serious trouble,
Unless we knew what our real face looks like.

There was a time,
When we enthusiastically rode our red bicycles,
And a coin in our pockets,
Would twinkle a bar in our eyes.
Our thinking was simple,
But words cascaded limitlessly.
Now our thoughts are complex,
And the words won’t come easy.
Our fights were silly,
Our guts funny.
Now our wars are brutal,
And audacity cunny.
We laughed, we cried,
Spoke whatever felt like.
Now we enigmatically flaunt a coded expression,
Our pseudo attitude, regular psych.

We used to study,
To learn new things.
Now we buy education,
And earn a Bourneville.

All running hastily,
To catch something visibly unseen.
Strange! At the beck and call of an unknown,
All so eager, way-out keen.

Big cars, big bike, big house;
Ostensibly rich, superficially happy.
But I bet you can’t buy the carefree giggle,
You once flashed when you jigged your buddy.

Hey folks! Live with no regrets,
No cringes of the past.
The tar baby in veil otherwise,
It will cripple you at last.

Laugh heartily,
Let the twinkle reach your eyes.
Mind serene, heart pure,
And then see what your face looks like.

Be true to yourself,
That’s the key to all plights.
The real you can put up,
All of the serious fight.
Victory or defeat,
Whichever it brings,
Remember in the end,
It’s “you” who wins.

PS: Bless you with the true spirit of Christmas. Follow the Star of Bethlehem and you will seek all.
Merry Christmas !!!

DREAM

2009-12-20T20:12:00.014+05:30

He and She talk about their dreams, their most cherished desires in life, and their spirit to aim the wild blue yonder.

She says,” I want to see myself at a book launch, signing personal copies for the readers. And I want to see dad look at me and smile.”

He continues,” You know what I dream of?”

“What?”

He says, “I am riding the super sports bike and its handling like a dream and after the long straight, it screeches to a halt and then I dismount the bike, remove my helmet and say,

"Pretty nice thing I created."

PS: For those who relished "He & She" in Jab We Met [Link to Post] and asked for more...

BRAT

2009-12-16T21:32:00.019+05:30

Let me introduce you all to a guy called “Brat.”

When Brat was 4, he was sent to Convent.

Curiosity to light a matchstick and study how a flame works, Brat ended up burning away the curtains of his class teacher’s room.

He was expelled.

Another school, Brat now 6, while playing he pushed a fellow mate into the well. The child was later rescued.

He was now sent to government school.

In desperation to be able to wear spectacles, for he found them so smart, he looked through a magnifying lens to the sun to weaken his eye sight.

Dangerously smart!

Always up to some mischief, he would purposely bump into people standing by the verandah. Scornful and disgusted they would be seen cursing him ceaselessly.

A decade later, Brat was already part of communist movement while his fellow mates sat mugging for matric exams.

Another decade passes, Brat, a 9 pointer came as a gold medalist from one of India’s premier institutes.

Brat is now a happily married guy, father of two and an erudite.

___________________________________________________

PS: Brat is my Dad.

PPS: Brat is called “Genius” now.

Various Verses…

2009-12-11T01:19:00.023+05:30

(1)

Reflected me

It shone my beauty

That Thespian hero gazed into the pool

But you lured me into those two

I plunged

I drowned

I lived.

…

(2)

No you haven’t told me

In dull, insipid words

But I could listen

In your silence

Or read between those words

Which were left fumbling

For me to ponder…

…

(3)

Thick blue mist hovered

Nebula threw up that genie

And he asked me to make three.

I wished you

I wished you.

He told me I wasted two.

I replied, he wasted three.

He smiled and moved on…

Image Illustration: Painting by Anirban Chakraborty.

Oil pastel, 2002, took about a month’s time. One of Artist’s personal favourites, mine as well.

Tick Tock… Tick Tock…

2009-12-03T00:56:00.008+05:30

I look at the door. Sitting right in front of it- I sit, I look, I smile. Run fingers down my tresses. I look back again. Disinterestedly picking up something, flip the pages, keep it back. Looking at the door…
Tick... Tock…

Something I hear, walk to the door, stand by it for some time, check the door bell and close it.
Ti…ck…To...ck…

Sit on the next chair. This time trying to be a little more relaxed... eyes still set upon the door. T...i...ck…..T…o...ck…

The bell rings and in one big leap I open the door- it’s not you.

I sit again.
Tick Tock…
T...i...ck…..T…o...c...k…

You will be here soon. It’s about time, I know.
Just a few more Tick Tock…Tick Tock…

God's Gimmick !!!

2009-11-28T00:20:00.015+05:30

God tip-toes into my room, stands beside the curtain and looks at me for quite sometime. Out of the corner of my eye I’ve seen him coming but I pretend to be involved. For those who have not actually noticed him of late, let me tell you, he’s keeping it really casual these days with kool message T’s and faded jeans, hair slightly cropped this time and yatra line chappals giving it an altogether subtle appearance. I guess he’s a little annoyed with Hrithik for imitating him in Kites but it doesn’t really matter as he always loves to bring a change but now since they are aping quickly it’s taxing enough.*Brady says he parks his Harley down the lane but as I’ve not spotted it in a long time, I reckon he uses public transport these days for it doesn’t attract too much attention and also that he can reach out to masses. My virtue suggests the former but Economic Weekly calls it “recession”.

He quietly moves to the bed and places a blue envelope and briskly moves out. Stopping by the door suddenly, he glances back and smiles. I ignore the envelope for a while, I know I’ve been behaving stubbornly all the while and so with a heavy heart I pick it and fiddle with it. Yet another “Things to do” reminder it would be, I thought. Each unchecked box counts for a task piled up and the list swells up every week.

By now he should know that I would plainly read it and it did be procrastinated again, like always but I hate his optimism.

Dejected I opened the envelope and I Find Nothing- it’s empty!

I scour it completely.

No list this time. No work assigned?

“Oh no! How is that possible? He can’t stop expecting out of me. I was about to start this time, really.” I uttered. Devastated, I cry, I shout, I plead.

“One chance, last chance, please God”, I continue to plead.

“Now, it’s your last chance”, I hear somebody calling.

“Listen Tuli, last time really, I’m asking you to get up or you will be late for college.” Mom shouted from the kitchen.

I open my eyes.

“Heck! It was a dream. Scary!” I mumbled wiping the sweat on my forehead letting out a sigh of relief.

But to my horror there was an envelope by my pillow- the blue envelope. I felt goose bumps all over and the nape of my neck was set on fire. Extremely jittery, I opened it slowly-

“Things To Do”, it read.

The note had just too many unchecked boxes. Each box doubled the surge of joy.

“God’s Gimmick?” I wondered. Noble gimmick though but pretty unusual and darn scary. Was he watching a lot of twist in the tale movies these days?

God has his own ways I had heard but now God has new ways? Anyways it delighted me to see that he still hadn’t lost faith in me. I let out a squeal of laughter; jumping out of the bed I chimed-

“Loads to do. Get to work baby!!!”

PS: I Hope you are regularly working on your Blue envelopes.

*Brady- Joan Brady, writer of God on a Harley.

Infinity...

2009-11-22T01:04:00.009+05:30

You are a mirror

I'm another

And now when we are together

We reflect infinity.

I'm a mirror

You are another

And when we walk together

We move into eternity.

When I see you

I find my own reflection

And when I peep into myself

I've lost all to you.

Where am I?

Where are you?

Into infinity...