JAB SHE COMES
I love the rains. Though the dark clouds do intimidate me, yet I enjoy the shower that emanates from the congregation. It would rain when she enters my life. It would not be a mere drizzle, nor a thunderstorm or a hailstorm, but a pleasant rainy session.
The rain would, I hope, wash away the sediments of the past settled over my life. The rains would give way to a clear sky and there would be a full moon shining in the heavens at last. The night would brighten up when our hearts would meet. The confluence would produce the best music ever. She would be a major factor in helping me get over all the different escapades dotting my history. Although my fate has orchestrated a future known only to it, I sometimes wish I knew who would hold the reins of my life.
My life would be lit up by the radiance emanating from her eyes-----a future different from that orchestrated for me by the devils doing a belly dance over my destiny. The exigencies of my fate made me make a lot of wishes after throwing a coin into the wishing well. Her eyes would make me wish for many more things. I wish she would love me so much that I can forget the past. My past is densely populated with bitter experiences. I hope she helps me forget all of these. I want her to love only me. Her love would have the power to bloom flowers in my life. Her entry into my dull and serene life would bring about changes that are seen in a dry and arid desert after a shower of rain: my life would bloom with flowers. There would be a plethora of flowers down the avenues that I would walk with her.
I would walk with her for quite a part of my life, the walk would be through the arcaded corridors of the night as well as the fields that are brightly lit by the sun. Her eyelids would be covered with stars, the moon would no longer be required to brighten up the night. She would have the potential to make my life live. Her entry into my life would be celebrated---it would rain.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
YOU
YOU
The sky was overcast with dark clouds as I stepped out of the office. They clouds withheld the warmth of the sun. A thunderstorm was in the making. The rain-drops blessed the earth while I was on the bus.
The bus shielded me from the storm just as you have shielded me from the intricate details of my destiny. You have been with me through thick and thin. Life without you seems to be as dry and serene as in a desert. The desert is populated with cacti. The cacti are a source of inspiration for me: life still exists in the desert, life would still go on without you, but with you, life would be different.
The difference would be pronounced quite loudly if only you were with me. Miracles seem to be in the making when you are with me. You rare the only person who can make a difference in my life, you can work miracles in my life; you are the only person who can make my life beautiful. I cannot seem to be able to think beyond the aura that surrounds you, the key to survival in the world is to diversify, I ought to move ahead in life, I know, I ought to look at the dozens of avenues that fate has opened before me, but my life enters a void as it emerges from your presence, you seem to be the opium for me: there seems to be no life beyond you.
You have been such a good friend; you have been a soak-pit for the deluge of emotions that that emanate from my heart. You have been the queen reigning over my heart. You have been living in my heart for a long-long time
I hope you don't leave it for a longer time to come. You have cared for me, you have loved me.
I was probably wrong in assuming that you have bid adieu after tracking on the same path with me for such a long time. You can never do this to me, you have been such a good friend that I wonder at the amazing patience that you have displayed. You have shown a lot more than patience because bearing the burden of friendship with me requires a lot more than patience, I know. I only wish there was a manner in which I could show you how grateful I am.
I am sailing in the ship of life where the weather gets rough at times. At these times, I wish there was a safe asylum. You are a safe asylum; I hope you remain with me forever and a day. You have been with me throughout the day, all through the sultry heat of the sun.
The sun was out in the horizon by the time the bus got to where I wanted to go, it had stopped raining, and I basked in the warmth of the sun as I walked out of the bus.
The sky was overcast with dark clouds as I stepped out of the office. They clouds withheld the warmth of the sun. A thunderstorm was in the making. The rain-drops blessed the earth while I was on the bus.
The bus shielded me from the storm just as you have shielded me from the intricate details of my destiny. You have been with me through thick and thin. Life without you seems to be as dry and serene as in a desert. The desert is populated with cacti. The cacti are a source of inspiration for me: life still exists in the desert, life would still go on without you, but with you, life would be different.
The difference would be pronounced quite loudly if only you were with me. Miracles seem to be in the making when you are with me. You rare the only person who can make a difference in my life, you can work miracles in my life; you are the only person who can make my life beautiful. I cannot seem to be able to think beyond the aura that surrounds you, the key to survival in the world is to diversify, I ought to move ahead in life, I know, I ought to look at the dozens of avenues that fate has opened before me, but my life enters a void as it emerges from your presence, you seem to be the opium for me: there seems to be no life beyond you.
You have been such a good friend; you have been a soak-pit for the deluge of emotions that that emanate from my heart. You have been the queen reigning over my heart. You have been living in my heart for a long-long time
I hope you don't leave it for a longer time to come. You have cared for me, you have loved me.
I was probably wrong in assuming that you have bid adieu after tracking on the same path with me for such a long time. You can never do this to me, you have been such a good friend that I wonder at the amazing patience that you have displayed. You have shown a lot more than patience because bearing the burden of friendship with me requires a lot more than patience, I know. I only wish there was a manner in which I could show you how grateful I am.
I am sailing in the ship of life where the weather gets rough at times. At these times, I wish there was a safe asylum. You are a safe asylum; I hope you remain with me forever and a day. You have been with me throughout the day, all through the sultry heat of the sun.
The sun was out in the horizon by the time the bus got to where I wanted to go, it had stopped raining, and I basked in the warmth of the sun as I walked out of the bus.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
THE LAST BOW
THE LAST BOW
The final farewell to my dreams is going to be the toughest part of the deal that my fate made with me when it introduced me to her. My grief would flow for my eyes, but one has to move ahead in life leaving behind the rudiments of the past. The farewell would remind me of the myriad of things that could have happened, and those that could not happen. Though I had a good time thinking of her, yet I don't seem to have had enough of the lady. She seems to dominate my thoughts all round the day, all through the night, seven days a week, and all the 365 days in an year. I find in myself the plight of travelers who are drugged in dingy hotels in coastal cities like Mumbai or Chennai and carried to nearby ships to discover, once they come back to their senses, that they are out at sea and are forced to work as laborers on board to stay alive.
I'm forced to harbour her thoughts to stay alive. I simply cannot seem to have enough of her. My life seems to be filled with energy and warmth when I think of her. Thinking of her acts as a magic potion for me. I must think of her, I must dream of her, I must of my best to stay afloat in the sea of emotions. My dreams are bound to crash when she bids adieu, I know. The resurrection of m dreams for the doldrums shall not be easy, but it would have to be done. This will take some time, but I'm sure that I would feel better with the passage of time.
Time would show me that my love-story was merely another work of fiction based on a thousand true stories. My story is not different from that of the dozens of young couples I find connodling in McDonald's, Pizza Hut, or in public parks, although I did not wear my hear on my sleeve like any of them.
Only a few of hem would find eternal bliss in each other's company, most of them would have to make a compromise with their fate and time. Unlike the last lot, I'm certainly not in the mood to capitulate my fate to time. I remind myself that the problem is partly my creation. I simply cannot find avenues to tame the monster that I myself created to escape the perils of time and my existence. My dependence on my dreams has certainly eroded my ego's dominance over myself. There doesn't seem to be a way out of the mess.
The mess has brought forth the truth that the alliance between my fate and time never gave me any happiness. I've been battling against the coalition for quite some time, but the tussle has only produced scars on the surface of my heart. It is time that I bid a final farewell to all this, it is high time that I stopped thinking of her, it is time that I stopped writing on her, it is time that I moved ahead in life, it is time to say goodbye, it is time for the last bow.
The final farewell to my dreams is going to be the toughest part of the deal that my fate made with me when it introduced me to her. My grief would flow for my eyes, but one has to move ahead in life leaving behind the rudiments of the past. The farewell would remind me of the myriad of things that could have happened, and those that could not happen. Though I had a good time thinking of her, yet I don't seem to have had enough of the lady. She seems to dominate my thoughts all round the day, all through the night, seven days a week, and all the 365 days in an year. I find in myself the plight of travelers who are drugged in dingy hotels in coastal cities like Mumbai or Chennai and carried to nearby ships to discover, once they come back to their senses, that they are out at sea and are forced to work as laborers on board to stay alive.
I'm forced to harbour her thoughts to stay alive. I simply cannot seem to have enough of her. My life seems to be filled with energy and warmth when I think of her. Thinking of her acts as a magic potion for me. I must think of her, I must dream of her, I must of my best to stay afloat in the sea of emotions. My dreams are bound to crash when she bids adieu, I know. The resurrection of m dreams for the doldrums shall not be easy, but it would have to be done. This will take some time, but I'm sure that I would feel better with the passage of time.
Time would show me that my love-story was merely another work of fiction based on a thousand true stories. My story is not different from that of the dozens of young couples I find connodling in McDonald's, Pizza Hut, or in public parks, although I did not wear my hear on my sleeve like any of them.
Only a few of hem would find eternal bliss in each other's company, most of them would have to make a compromise with their fate and time. Unlike the last lot, I'm certainly not in the mood to capitulate my fate to time. I remind myself that the problem is partly my creation. I simply cannot find avenues to tame the monster that I myself created to escape the perils of time and my existence. My dependence on my dreams has certainly eroded my ego's dominance over myself. There doesn't seem to be a way out of the mess.
The mess has brought forth the truth that the alliance between my fate and time never gave me any happiness. I've been battling against the coalition for quite some time, but the tussle has only produced scars on the surface of my heart. It is time that I bid a final farewell to all this, it is high time that I stopped thinking of her, it is time that I stopped writing on her, it is time that I moved ahead in life, it is time to say goodbye, it is time for the last bow.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
THE OTHER WOMAN
THE OTHER WOMAN
The advent of another woman in my life seems to be the only solution to the crisis created by the turn of events leading to the incumbent predicament. The void that has been created in my life badly needs to be punctuated. I must do my best to replace the good by the best. Fate chose to withdraw the good from my life; the withdrawl has created a crisis. The crisis does not connote the end of my dreams, although some of them have certainly been shattered to pieces by my obstinacy against taking a turn in the road. She was the beacon of hope and change for me, but I should now take the turn in the road and keep marching: the persistent always cope better.
The persistent do have a better destiny inscribed for them as compared to those who give up easily. I refused to take the turn in the road, I could not gather enough courage to take the turn, I gave up. I did not for a while think of the dozens of avenues open before me when she became a part of my history. The transition did not take more than a few minutes, and she walked out of my destiny without any remorse. It was a big event for her, as all marriages are. The traditions of her family, the peripheral boundaries of her paternal residence, the petty issues surrounding her existence all ceased to apply themselves to her. She wasn't even aware of my feelings for her; I could never gather the courage to tell her. The shehnai sounded a final farewell to my dreams. The event proposed to close all the amorous chapters of my life for ever. She left my life in one stroke. I had reached the end of the road.
The road doesn't have a factual end; there are only bends in the road. Love never ends, it simply assumes another form. Sooner or later, I'll have to wrap up my dreams in the foils of my history. When we face failure, the key is to begin afresh by sidelining negative thoughts. I would have to begin again, it shall not be very difficult, but only the other woman in my life would be able to fish me out of this mess. She would shield me from the aftermath of the eclipse. The remote celestial event would bring the curtains rolling down over my dreams. I'm aware that the full moon in the heavens tonight is only an apparition, it shines with the light of the sun, it has a lot of hills dotting its face, I can only do my best to retain the radiance let out by the full moon.
The full moon would ultimately fade into the ether, but the moon would not be sorry for it. It would find a fresh life in the form of a crescent. I too should not blame my stars for what was not inscribed in my destiny. I ought to honour the dictates of time. The full moon in the heavens tonight is not without blemishes and scars, she too is not very good looking, she is not good looking at all, the other woman in my life would also not be without faults. She would show me that life does not mean reflecting light, but shining by self-----the sun would finally shine in my life.
The advent of another woman in my life seems to be the only solution to the crisis created by the turn of events leading to the incumbent predicament. The void that has been created in my life badly needs to be punctuated. I must do my best to replace the good by the best. Fate chose to withdraw the good from my life; the withdrawl has created a crisis. The crisis does not connote the end of my dreams, although some of them have certainly been shattered to pieces by my obstinacy against taking a turn in the road. She was the beacon of hope and change for me, but I should now take the turn in the road and keep marching: the persistent always cope better.
The persistent do have a better destiny inscribed for them as compared to those who give up easily. I refused to take the turn in the road, I could not gather enough courage to take the turn, I gave up. I did not for a while think of the dozens of avenues open before me when she became a part of my history. The transition did not take more than a few minutes, and she walked out of my destiny without any remorse. It was a big event for her, as all marriages are. The traditions of her family, the peripheral boundaries of her paternal residence, the petty issues surrounding her existence all ceased to apply themselves to her. She wasn't even aware of my feelings for her; I could never gather the courage to tell her. The shehnai sounded a final farewell to my dreams. The event proposed to close all the amorous chapters of my life for ever. She left my life in one stroke. I had reached the end of the road.
The road doesn't have a factual end; there are only bends in the road. Love never ends, it simply assumes another form. Sooner or later, I'll have to wrap up my dreams in the foils of my history. When we face failure, the key is to begin afresh by sidelining negative thoughts. I would have to begin again, it shall not be very difficult, but only the other woman in my life would be able to fish me out of this mess. She would shield me from the aftermath of the eclipse. The remote celestial event would bring the curtains rolling down over my dreams. I'm aware that the full moon in the heavens tonight is only an apparition, it shines with the light of the sun, it has a lot of hills dotting its face, I can only do my best to retain the radiance let out by the full moon.
The full moon would ultimately fade into the ether, but the moon would not be sorry for it. It would find a fresh life in the form of a crescent. I too should not blame my stars for what was not inscribed in my destiny. I ought to honour the dictates of time. The full moon in the heavens tonight is not without blemishes and scars, she too is not very good looking, she is not good looking at all, the other woman in my life would also not be without faults. She would show me that life does not mean reflecting light, but shining by self-----the sun would finally shine in my life.
THINGS ONLY CHANGE
THINGS ONLY CHANGE
Nothing ever ends, things only change. A bend in the road is certainly not the end of the end of the road, unless you fail to take a turn. What appears to be the end is merely a bend in the road. The road is so busy that traversed all round the year, quite a heavy traffic finds its way over the road. The road is trampled ruthlessly day and night.
I go to sleep every night, and every night a fresh dream embraces me. Each dream has a different story to tell. I met her in such a dream. She was not very good looking, she wasn't good looking at all. Sometimes I wonder how she found her way into my dreams. I wonder what attracted me to her. This was a part of my destiny, en route the road that leads to the present.
The road that brought me to the present shall usher a lot of changes into my dull and serene life. I rejoice at the thought that the guided tour from January to December 2009 is going to turn the wheels of my destiny in a ruthless manner. This could be a time when my fate takes a novel turn every single day of the year. Something exciting would replace the morbid and dry life that I've been leading, I hope.
I hope that the series of changes initiated into my life do bring some amount of cheer into my life. The journey of my life seems to be punctuated by prolonged periods of darkness. The night seems to be longer than eternity, but dawn is surely round the corner, changes are slowly but surely settling into my life.
The changes are sure to break the eloquent silence of the night. The tranquility of the night shall surely be broken, my perception of the bend in the road is all that matters.
A bend in the road is certainly not the end of the road unless I fail to take a turn, I remind myself. The bend certainly does not denote the end of my dreams. Rather, this could be the beginning of yet another dream, even more pleasing and heart-warming. A new and fresh dream takes form every night I go to sleep.
The last time that I went to sleep, my dreams brought me before such changes equations of life that I began to wonder at the bends that life presents before us. Life is such an intricate maze of twists, turns and bends that I began to feel the importance of her presence in my life. She walked into my life in such a subtle manner that I wasn't even aware of her presence in my life for quite some time. Her presence changed several things in my life. I began to love life, everything around me became beautiful, the world was formed yesterday, I was born the very day, things were fresh and new. Her exit from my life has made me lose interest in life. Love seems to be the only entity that can reignite the embers of life, only love can rejuvenate my life. Being in love has been such a beautiful experience that I wish I could fall in love again.
I badly want to fall in love again, I want to sleep again, I want to dream again, I want to forget all about her. The experience has been quite exciting; the infatuation has been quite strong, I'm grateful to Allah for the chance that He gave me at an age when life enters a sedentary stage. All said and done, I'm considerably happy that life brought me before another infatuation, but I seem to have lost interest in life now that it is all over. The beads of the rosary are now scattered. It would be some time before things resume normalcy. She has certainly left a void in my life.
Life has not ended yet, life has just begun. This was merely another bend in the road, and not the end of the road. This was merely a halt in the long journey of life----- many more stations are yet to come: nothing ever ends, things only change.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)