My Own Lover...

We spend our lives yearning for Love. Look for the feeling that we belong to someone somewhere. Try hard and fight ugly to ensure that we have that someone to comfort us, someone to hug us when we feel low, someone to give us a shoulder when tears threaten to wet our lashes, someone who lets us put our head in their lap just to feel safe and fall asleep while acting aloof to the world; the world beyond this haven we build for ourselves. But is it worth going through all the pain in bargain for those few moments of blissful belonging? Is it foolish of us to forget that we love ourselves as much as anyone else could ever love us, and infact always more; And are just looking for an affirmation to our own belief, that the little bundle of imperfections that we are, is still likeable and perhaps even loveable by the world too and not just ourselves?

Happy be I to see before it was all over,
To have seen myself thru the eyes of a lover...
Happy to see that everything was perfect and fine,
Happier still to know that the eyes be mine...

Rewind, Repeat...

Yes, People change, things change, situations change, feelings change and pretty much everything that exists and even what we think doesn't exist. The interesting thing is that the manifold layered changes, that somehow give us the feeling of being lost in a world that was known to us just a few days ago, could go around in circles. Is it not possible to be what you once were? Treading the path that leads me there I can end up in the exact same spot as before at not one but many moments of this time eternal. Change is permanent, and yet not necessarily linear.

Sing Me To Sleep...

The radio was playing his favorite song that evening, 'Sing Me to Sleep’. But his mind was too preoccupied to notice the melodiously haunting tune. The first thing he noticed through his windshield was the evening sky which now was a light shade of purple instead of the mellow red he was accustomed to. He always wondered looking at it how much it resembled the red that her face became whenever she grew angry at him. He wished for the day the anger would vanish, once and for all. He knew he would hit the ground soon but his thoughts kept wandering to the good old memories he had treasured in the depths of his heart.

He could see his baby hands tracing the laugh lines on his mother’s face. Those serene eyes that lit up every time she saw him as though it had been years since she saw him last. He never had been able to do justice to the love with which she held him as her own. Some things were simply not meant to be, or perhaps as a step mother she was just the scape goat for his own fears, cliques and self-righteousness. He never had come to a conclusion about it. He knew the feeling of never being able to bear a child, your own blood, and cradling it in your arms, wouldn’t be much different than missing the warm embrace of your own mother. But life moves on and he had got used to the routine of lovingly hating her from a distance.

He felt the warmth of the sun on his face and it made him remember his father’s back. Not the one that had been turned on him since the last few years, the time since he had abandoned his teenage son into the care of a woman he had once fallen in Love with and then out of, but by the way it felt when he, as a kid, had hugged him tight while riding pillion on his Harley. The reassuring warmth that would make him feel safe no matter how fast his father drove. The bike rides had grown shorter and then fewer over the years, until all that remained were the memories of the sour taste of adrenaline in his dry mouth.

The wind rushing through the open windows of his car, blew the hair off his face, with the same zest that his best friend used to ruffle them playfully. He always had cribbed about having to tidy them up again, but she never gave it a second thought. She never minded his complains and neither did he ever mind her bashfulness, rather secretly relished it, but we all keep up appearances and so did he. As the car rushed downhill he felt the same weightless feeling that he had experienced so often, among his buddies, drunk over bottles of whiskey and rum. He chuckled as he realized that he had managed to find that same feeling, which his friends had debated he would never find in anything else. The only regret he had within those 8 seconds of descent was that he wouldn’t be able to tell them what he had discovered.

His thoughts wandered to his beloved, the only girl he had truly loved. He had loved before her and after, but somehow never felt as fulfilled as he felt in loving her. The thin smile stretching across her lips, her hair playful as the summer winds, her beady eyes when she sat beside him in the car the last time their paths had crossed, he remembered it all. He glanced at the passenger seat and thought he saw her again, her eyes lowered in a vain attempt at avoiding his gaze, lost deep in thought, with her lower lip puckered, in the same way that she did whenever something was amiss in her own little world that she had always guarded so ferociously from all. How he wished to lean in and taste those lips again, one last time. He felt the same that he had felt that day, the same burden and the same heart break of having to move away. “Never let me go” she had said once and he never did, in his heart he was always hers and she always his. Seeing her off, as she boarded the ship that had its sails lined with good fortune, was a bitter sweet memory he would never give up drinking upon. “For the greater good” he said and believed whole heartedly. The pain in his chest grew stranger now but before he could crumble to that pain like he had done, a thousand times before, he felt something new this time. His ears heard the crashing metal way after his body felt it ripping him apart. The warm blood rushed to soothe his pain in vain, only painting his eyes a red that he had so often seen. He had relived his life in the few seconds that his car took to hit the rocks below when he drove off the cliff. It was but a handful of precious memories sifted from the decades of his existence. He knew they were few, but his heart was content at what he had achieved in his lifetime. Darkness crept up the corners of his eyes, but his heart glowed bright. “Sing me to sleep, Sing me to sleep” the radio never died.

Child's Play...

He always wondered who would or who would not get a second chance, whenever he heard the sirens blaring, but he never had an idea they would come for him too some day. He always thought death to be a scary ordeal and that he would be too ignorant about it to care. Yet when he looked death in the eye, he wasn't scared as he had imagined he would be, because he saw no anger in its eyes or a smirk on its face, neither a scythe in its hand nor a grim vibe prickling his skin. All he could see was the tranquil face of an innocent child, with a beady alluring gaze, beckoning him to hold on to its little hand and play with it. He felt at peace finally, eagerly willing to leave all behind and join him in an endless play of hide and seek.

Shawl of Hope...

He wove a single thread of happiness between a thousand threads of sadness to create the shawl of hope, which would keep him safe from the winter winds. But the wind blew hard, and hard it blew between the loose threads and sent a chill down his spine. He still mustered the courage to clutch the shawl closer to his aching chest, hold his head low yet carrying on through the cold winter night; as he knew that with the end of the night will come a radiant tomorrow which would let him bask, his weakened limbs, in its warm sunshine. He knew that he was destined to walk alone, but he was glad of being able to walk atleast. What is a man who gave up and gathered moss under the stump of a fallen tree, nothing more that the rock that lies there. And so he endured with hope in his eyes and a cheerful song in his heart. The only company he knew of in times like these.

The King of Castle Bastille...

The king knew not what could save the world from him. Paranoia had eaten away at his mind and doubt his soul. He withdrew within his castle to save his people from his tormentous rule. The walls he built around his castle were sky high. But he could not blame his solitude on anyone else as he had built it himself brick by brick, stone by stone, chasing away his queen and all his ministers, his counsel and all his subjects, till he was entombed within all alone. He left no windows or doors in the wall, so none could walk in to see his fall. Alas he didn't realize that there would be no way for him to come out either if he ever tried, and that loneliness shall smother him in its dreary company. All he could wish was for his lionheart to come by, with a canon and a battering ram to break the cold grey wall but he knew that too was beyond the iota of hope left for him. He missed his courtesans and his table, the company of his dear loyals, and the love he shared among them. A thousand sins had he committed and a hundred atrocities, still the price he paid for it was far fetched even to his enfeebled mind. All he knew was the he had to endure for the greater good, and so he pledged to remain ever so, the King of Castle Bastille.

What I am...

This Is What I am,
And This Is What I'll Always Be...
No Matter How hard Ya Try,
You Aint gonna Change Me....

I Am The Odd Syllable,
In A Funny Sounding Word...
I Stand Outta The Crowd,
Jst Coz I Behave So Absurd...

I Can Be Warm,
And I Can Be Cold...
Listen As Well As Ignore,
All The Things I Am Told...

I Can See Thru Your Lies,
And Right Thru Your Fears...
Complement Your Brilliant White Shirt,
While Ignoring The Ketchup Smears...

I Can Take Your Smile Away,
And Make You Frown...
Be Nice To Me,
And I'll Do It The Other Way Around...

I Can Make You Laugh,
And I Can Make You Cry...
Without You Ever Realizing,
The Reason 'Why'???

I Can Value You For What You Are,
And Not What You Pretend To Be...
Coz I Am Interested In The Real You,
And Not What You Make Others See...

I can Look You In The Eye,
And Say That You Are Wrong...
The Thing You Are Listening To,
Is A Really Crappy Song...

I can Be A Better Friend,
Rather Than Be A Lover...
If Its The Latter Is What You Want,
Try Someone Sober...

I Can Make Ya believe,
That I Am Too Good To Be True...
But Aint gonna Do That,
Coz I'll Jst End Up Hurting You...:)


*Originally dated sometime in 2008. Reposting for backup.