That moment when you step back and ask

Why is it that childhood was so sweet,
summer so bright,
and grass so green.

When was it that childhood was taken over by a mad rush to grow up.
And a mad rush to be what you dream to be.
And then when you walk along the path towards your dream, suddenly you crave for the careless times, eating mangoes in the summer, wearing nothing but a tattered dress.

Why, is it that in this mad race do we forget to actually LIVE, as it were. Those moments of pure bliss are rare, if they occur at all that is. And the smile fades away and frowns take over almost as if the smile is an evil notion.

It’s a crime, they say, to stop. One must constantly work and run and sweat. But then, when to recover? When to heal? Is ignorance truly the need of the hour? Or rather the need of an entire lifetime?

I'd someday like to meet the one who spreads such philosophies. And over a warm cuppa tea, ask him when was it that he formed the ideas that rule our minds today. For I believe (or so it seems logical) it really can’t be when he lived in ignorance.

Haiku

Falter a man may

The journey of thorns and flowers

Unfolds a message

Humm

Beating drums,

Splashing water,

Fluid thats red.

Blank white paper,

Untuned guitar,

Purr of a cat,

Unsuspecting sigh,

Door slammed close 

Loud. Very loud.

Elevator

Dark night

Unconnected headphones

Closet locked

A stare, a start,

A falling teardrop

Silent. Very silent

Hurricane

Racing car

Trip down the memory lane

Voices

Voices of past

Voices unknown

"Don't waste your time on me

Your already the voice inside my head"

...

I have been meaning to update these pages but I have been a little lost these days. Its hard to find your center what your anchor itself is floating. Its quite overwhelming, the events that have been unfolding. I wonder where it will all lead to.

I feel like a mere spectator of my own life.

Walk Along

Fire & flames,

Chimes & choir,

All things good,

All things bad,

Walk along

Times that were,

Walk along,

Times that are,

Walk along

A distant echo,

A shy smile,

A stiffened giggle,

An angry rant,

Walk along

Times that were,

Walk along,

Times that are,

Walk along

A soothing voice, ruffled hair,

Moments of fiery passion,

The sheets tell a story,

A story untold,

Walk along

The demon of a mind that is

A bully, a mirror,

A book in the writing.

The pages that never fly away,

Till its time has come,

To be swept away in waves,

Buried down under,

Or burned in the holy fire

Times that were,

Times that are,

Always walk along

Illusion Airlines

Welcome to flight number 603,
your trip will begin from reality to la la land.

This flight will be piloted by Imagination and co-piloted by Confusion.

You will be shortly served by
imaginary creatures, rapists, thugs,
naked ladies, aliens or anything else you desire.

You can also conveniently choose your location
from among cliffs, aquamarine, space, barren lands,
shady corners, playboy mansion
or many such attractive locations
mentioned in our catalog.

The calculated time of your journey
will be shortly told to you once you have been served.

Some passengers may experience turbulence during the journey,
we suggest you to take necessary precautions beforehand.

We wish you have a pleasant and euphoric flight,
and you reach your destination fully satisfied.
Thank you for choosing us,
we are glad to partner with you tonight.

While I stare at my blank computer screen...

I feel like I am living in a musical. It sure is dramatic. Full with emotions- Love, hate, crime, tragedy, humor and well, all that.

The daily frustrations rise to a crescendo.

And then its time to go back home. aka the fall.

The morning sun brings smiles (when its sunny) and glum (when it pours)

Its like an external force pulls the strings.

Or is it supposed to be that way?

Life, it seems, really is a stage.

hmmm...

I wonder if I am a good actor

If I fair well

I think I do

That why I am still in the plot

Oh wait a minute!

I did loose the plot...FUCK!

I dont like the sound of this keyboard.

Pencil scratching paper is soo much better.

Its a bitter sweet symphony.

HA! Its life!

I do wonder sometimes,

If its worth it.

But then the external force never fails to surprise me.

What a joke. Thank god I do have a sense of humor.

Talk about being humble.

*sigh*

No matter how carefully I keep my headphones,

They always, ALWAYS entangle.

Its a struggle

I must have spoiled atleast 40 pairs.

Rest in peace dear ones, I still love you.

I think that can never run out of blabber.

But then I do fall short of words sometimes.

And these days,

Most of the times.

Dear god, when will I be satisfied?