Song for Mach

Song for me

Confessions of a misanthrope

Confession is a constipating thought to me.

I don’t think of confessing to someone. I am not an opinionated bastard who thinks of me high above the all. And I do not believe in god. The other alternative is to confess the so-called representatives of god to redeem the burden of their sins or misdeeds. I even am skeptic about sharing my pain with people around… Especially friends…

Concern sometimes makes one forget the need to share pain in silence and pass on a judgment that’s too premature. And sometimes their own love for me laced with an untraceable amount of ego makes them take my side and find reasons to attack what hurt me. It is a worse predicament on my side when the object of my anguish is a subject that I am profoundly and irreversibly in love with. I could neither align with the negative observations of my friends nor with the insensitive act committed by the one I loved.

I tried unburdening myself with the very humane act of ventilating myself before a few chosen friends. And I could not quite make myself happy with the results I encountered. There were times when my own suspicious brain tugged me if I made a wrong choice of my redeemers is wrong. I really cannot blame them. They love me in such way that everything that hurts me hurts them too. But it’s not something over which I could stay complacent when someone however close to me points their fingers at someone I loved so dearly.

She must have her own reasons… good or bad… she must have her own compulsions that are reasonable or unreasonable. She must have discovered her own reality… justified or not justified… she must have developed strength to wipe out her own morals and scruples to make her life better…

But she is someone whom I loved truly and dearly…

My friend Jazz suggests I should seek the shelter of God. She is a sweet girl who vehemently suffers my arrogance and yet reacts not in anger. But I distanced myself from hypothetic assumptions long back and I recoil in my own realms of reserve.

And it’s very hard to contain something that needs to be shared with someone who is… not ready to respond or receive it. It is proving very hard almost every moment to accept the terms of reality. On the other hand it’s too astonishing to look at her resolve in maintaining her poise in keeping our six year long relation dumped down in dust.

I need to speak. I needed to speak to someone who is non judgmental and stoic without being too apparent about what they feel. I want someone who understands the precise balance between matured silence and empathetic smile that harmonizes my spiritual turbulence. My counselor must not be polluted by wisdom or tainted by intellect. He or she must be pure enough to make me feel safe in their presence and give me courage to open my heart.

Such an impossible greed on my part to look forward to meet such person…

I smiled to myself and let life pass by unobtrusively. I went back to my own internal turmoil that’s well masked by my passive demeanor and countenance that forgot to smile genuinely.

Till few days ago I happen to meet someone who exactly fitted my anticipations…

I have this friend who is blessed with a baby girl and a lovely wife. They called me on to share a simple meal. I accepted their gracious invitation and entered their abode. For some reason the couple needed to go out for a while and asked if it would be too inconvenient to leave their baby girl in my protective custody. I gladly accepted that responsibility and allowed them to leave.

The baby is about eleven months old and trying to precariously balance her cute little rump in sitting position. Her twelve inch floral frock is contributing its best to compete with her innocence. Her spotless diaper is even more proud to keep her warm and dry. The baby looked at me with big eyes and mystified with my attempts to make her smile. I made some monkey faces and tried brining her smile.

Then I happen to hear a song faintly far off from a radio that’s became my favorite nowadays. It’s a soulful tune that squeezes the heart of someone who is sensitive enough to feel the most inaudible murmurs of soul that’s blessed with love. This song reverberate my psyche and makes me lose sense of time and space.

I started humming the song outward and attracted the attention of this cute baby. She just looked up and looked at me with her big eyes and lovely chubby cheeks. And she smiled knowingly without knowing anything. This gave me a new courage and method to attract her attention without losing my opportunity to sing that song with the intensity of passion I feel when I listen to it and empathize with it.

I really attracted her innocent attention. But I also realized that there were tears in my eyes. In an utter greed to be consoled I pushed my face within the reach of the baby not really knowing what I was anticipating. And she was attracted to the sparking tears that tried escaping my eyes and her tiny hands too. She smeared her hands on my cheeks and tried tasting them and smiled at me again in innocence.

I felt so humbled. That gave me an idea.

That day I confessed to her.

I put her in my lap and told her so many things that I wanted to be relieved of. I confessed my own disgust towards myself in certain areas where I employed unethical and immoral means to reach the ends of my ambitions. I explained my own stupidity in a few things because of which me and my loved one suffered. I made her see my point of version that I find to be right thing to do even today. I told her that deep inside my heart I am apologetic towards a few people in my life and I do not have the courage to express myself.

And she listened to me.

Looking at me sometimes… tugging my long hair sometimes… pushing her tiny fingers in to her rose petal lips and sucking them noisily… trying to slide off my lap when she felt like it and… stopped herself looking at me in awe when I gone emotional and my verbal expression.

She offered me no opinions and no solutions. She did not contemplate who is right and what went wrong. She did not flinch her face when disgust surfaced my confession. She smiled sweetly at an unexpected moment throwing me off balance of my pain… and made me smile too. She was not affected by whatever perils I underwent and whatever exploitations I was proud or not proud of.

And she ran in to the arms of her mother when the parents returned…

I had the pleasure and ease of confession that day…with no residual guilt, suspicion or skepticism in my heart…

Song for me

Song for you Mach

Nice Read

Money has no memory. Experience has. You will never know what the total cost of your education was, but for a lifetime you will recall and relive the memories of schools and colleges. Few years from now, you will forget the amount you paid to settle the hospitalization bill, but will ever cherish having saved your mother's life or the life you get to live with the just born. You won't remember the cost of your honeymoon, but to the last breath remember the experiences of the bliss of togetherness. Money has no memory. Experience has.

Good times and bad times, times of prosperity and times of poverty, times when the future looked so secure and times when you didn't know from where the tomorrow will come... life has been in one way or the other a roller-coaster ride for everyone. Beyond all that abundance and beyond all that deprivation, what remains is the memory of experiences. Sometimes the wallet was full... sometimes even the pocket was empty. There was enough and you still had reasons to frown. There wasn't enough and you still had reasons to smile. Today, you can look back with tears of gratitude for all the times you had laughed together, and also look back with a smile at all the times you cried alone. All in all, life filled you with experiences to create a history of your own self, and you alone can remember them all.

The first time you balanced yourself on your cycle without support... The first time she said 'yes' and it was two years since you proposed... The first cry... the first steps... the first word... the first kiss... all of your child... The first gift you bought for your parents and the first gift your daughter gave you... The first award... the first public appreciation... the first stage performance... And the list is endless... Experiences, with timeless memory... No denying that anything that's material cost money, but the fact remains the cost of the experience will be forgotten, but the experience never.

So, what if it's economic recession? Let it be, but let there not be a recession to the quality of your life. You can still take your parents, if not on a pilgrimage, at least to the local temple. You can still play with your children, if not on an international holiday, at least in the local park. It doesn't cost money to lie down or to take a loved one onto your lap. Nice time to train the employees, create leadership availability and be ready for the wonderful times when they arrive. Hey! Aspects like your health, knowledge development and spiritual growth are not economy dependent.

Time will pass... economy will revive... currency will soon be in current... and in all this; I don't want you to look back and realize you did nothing but stayed in gloom. If you are not happy with what you have, no matter how much more you have, you will still not be happy.

Make a statement with the way you live your life.

Respect life, live with passion.

(This is a wonderful mail sent by my sweet friend Sneha Rao of Bangalore and I must not forget her own source Mr. Vinayak Chakarvarthi… I thought I should share this with all of you…)

Song for me

Song for you Mach

Love seeding in your heart

Finding a heart that’s fertile to take your hopes is not done in deliberation. How much ever one disagrees looking through the realms of wisdom they acquired, I learnt that it happens the same way life generates in an unknown moment though ingredients cluster and collide with each other and yet some moments go vacant… and the others reach fruition.

It’s so beautiful to like someone you happen to meet (in my case feel… as we were far away from each other), and weave emotions, thoughts and aspirations around them. Not all of them could be expressed in open even when the intent is honest and expression is pure. Fear and skepticism is something that exudes a negative aura and breaking the same even in the name of curiosity may not always be possible.

When one decides to bear his soul relinquishing his self esteem risking rejection, going weak on wobbling knees, he still has the strength in his heart to say what he wanted to say. The greatest irony that I observed with someone who is so mad in love with a girl is… going so weak before his girl who is fragile, delicate and soft. Confronting her blazing eyes or impassive face is not less than feeling his heart shrink within and blood rushing to create a kind of cerebral hemorrhage.

I find this feeling to be very unique. Though I was not really blessed to relish this feeling as I proposed to the girl I loved over phone and not in real life. I could see her confusion in digesting what she heard and hesitance is not being rude. I closed my eyes tight and my own ears could listen to my thudding heart and as well could distinguish the silence pervading on the other side.

That moment is the seed of love I planted in her heart.

I remembered good old days when I was a child. Mom used to use coriander leaves a lot in her cooking. To get them fresh she used to plant them in back yard. We children with our little hands raked up the earth as much as we could and prepare the soil for mom to come and seed. Sometimes we used to sit around the patch of ground we dug and wait for mom patiently. Then mom simply sprinkled coriander seeds in the soil and used her fingers to fold those seeds in to the layers of earth. And when she asks for water one of us used to run towards a water drum and fetch water in a tiny mug. After sprinkling water she simply asked us to wait.

This waiting sometimes used to irritate me. But then I was a child and curious about so many things that drawn my attention away from what’s bothering me. Every morning when I wake up I used to go to that patch of ground and see if some miracle sprung up.

True… I really don’t recall how much time it took but one day I observed a tiny stem trying to tear the layer of mother earth and come up to turn her head up towards son. I was so excited and ran to mom and tell her what I saw. She was busy as usual with her kitchen chores and acknowledged my answer with a smile.

I ran back to my seedlings and spent little more time looking at them. And they have grown to delicious smelling coriander leaves that I loved to sprinkle on the vegetable seasoned spicy rice mom used to prepare for me. Mom used to rip them off from their roots and wash them and cut them to bits and pieces… to ensure my smiles.

Sounds gruesome… right???

Later I learnt in school that a seed and seedling there of needs so many things. Just not earth but water and sunshine and care…

Makes me remember my favorite song… A soulful melody by Late John Denver…

Inch by inch, row by row, gonna make this garden grow

All it takes is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground

Inch by inch, row by row, someone bless the seeds I sow

Someone warm them from below, 'til the rain comes tumbling down

Pulling weeds and picking stones, man is made of dreams and bones

Feel the need to grow my own 'cause the time is close at hand

Grain for grain, sun and rain, find my way in nature's chain,

to my body and my brain to the music from the land

Plant your rows straight and long, thicker than with prayer and song

Mother Earth will make you strong if you give her love and care

Old crow watching hungrily, from his perch in yonder tree

In my garden I'm as free as that feathered thief up there

Inch by inch, row by row, gonna make this garden grow

All it takes is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground

Inch by inch, row by row, Someone bless the seeds I sow

Someone warm them from below, 'til the rain comes tumbling down

…

Falling in love with someone is easy if they are kind enough to reciprocate. It’s like mother earth allowing the seed in her heart to germinate and grow. Nurturing the seedling needs lots of things that nature provides…

My own seed of love planted in her heart needed such nurturing. I was so unfortunate in staying away from her. I wanted every possible moment to be with her just to share her silence and solitude. I tried making up what I could not make in real by calling her and talking to her.

It was like dreaming with eyes open as words flows from our mouths to ears and then reaches our hearts. Conversations between us varied from breezy to stormy. And they used to end up in glowing happiness as well us fuming anger. But never a moment we could go beyond a notion to leave each other. It was the most wonderful phase of my life… my growing years. I mean my real growing years were different from the growing years in love which I was completely aware of.

You must have observed that I used past tense. “Was”…

It brings me tears in my eyes when look at my own cruelty towards myself to use such word. I cannot claim that I am a true lover as I never thought of so many other things that strengthen love to counter the harms of real world. I should have been bit more egoistic in hiding my attention towards her and looking after her immediate need however trivial or stupid it might be.

I stood stoic like flag pole over which her fragile dreams wound around as her hopes climbed. I was so entranced with what I was blessed with as her confidence and happiness engulfed me in every succeeding moment.

Then the plant of love grown was… ripped off the ground in which it germinated…

She has grown to know that she could not share her love with me. She left me… like a stoic flag pole… I am standing alone in meandering loneliness.

I love that girl so much…

…

Song for me

Song for you Mach

I won’t say goodbye

I will lose you though
Yet I will not let love go…
Mind not taking mortal blow
Without you life shall never glow…

Song for me

Song for you Mach

I am love (For Mach)

My name is love
I am born in your heart’s trove…
I’ve grown with your smiles
I tagged behind when you ran an extra mile…
I curled in comfort when I felt your hand gliding
I whispered mute when your tears sliding…
I swayed my head when you sung
I tugged your heart when your anger’s done…
Now that you pushed him to welcome your dreams aboard
Why do you cut my umbilical cord???
I am born in your heart
I will die elsewhere not…
Let me rest in peace... in your heart’s womb
I shall wish nothing any more in life’s tomb…


…

When I first saw the picture above I was numbed. I must admire and thank the person who has come up with such an amazing idea that actually offers contradicting impressions. One is to see if the baby is happily playing tug of war with his mom still linked to her.

Another is more gruesome even to imagine. The baby is running away from a possible expulsion from her / his own mother while she is trying to discord the baby in to real world. How could a baby protect it from her captor who is the reason for its birth??? How could the baby stay near and be not scared when the umbilical cord is cut… or go away to avoid the same…only to realize that the umbilical cord could still be cut???

I often wondered if a baby is given consciousness what would she / he prefers. The life generated within the comfortable confines and nurtured with moments of love and hope, making the baby grow more to relish what she is given more and more. Then one fine day the baby is cut off from the source of her love and pushed in to real world where she / he shall be subjected to good things or bad things of the word around.

But as long as the baby is within the womb, she / he shall remain so complacent knowing nothing but love from her / his mother.

Perhaps love must be nurtured in such way. To be embraced by someone who is the reason for its birth and to let not the love go away for whatever reasons. To let love not be discarded brutally even when it’s time to let go.

The divinity of innocence and love is forced towards the evils of reality and concepts related to practicality. One can find an alternative in terms of immediate pleasures or convenience. But if one understands what a true love is… they shall miss it badly…which ever other things they are blessed with…

Song for me

Song for you Mach

A funny Shayeri (Poem) I heard today on radio

Baharoon phool barsaaoo (Oh spring… shower a rain of flowers)
Mera mehboob aaya hai (My lover has come)
Ruko ruko… (Stop stop…)
Apne mahboob ko saath laya hai (She has brought her lover along too)



Hahahahahahahahahahha…





(But what if… the above is not a joke???)



Hahahahahahahahahahha…

Song For Me

Song for You Mach

I shall be there

Silently I melt in the realms of unmarked grave
Stridently glide my ashes on the wings of love I crave…
I live in winds around you when your voice whispers
To find the moment of pleasure that slipped off your heart nurtured…

Song for me

For you Mach

Still Waiting

Hands gnarled…

Hopes unfurled…

An old man held a rose…

Waiting to see his love come close…

Song for me

Song for me

Messing, Missing… Mourning

Watching, staring… looking
Sniffing, smelling… savoring
Nibbling, munching… eating
Creeping, crawling… stumbling
Walking, jogging… running
Twisting, turning…stopping
Mumbling, whispering… murmuring
Speaking, talking… singing
Offering, waiting… claiming
Hoping, duping… coping
Giving, grinning… grieving
Blooming, smiling… wailing
Kneeling, begging… seeking
Liking, loving… leaving
Feeling, paining… suffering
Dozing, dreaming… screaming
Mating, hating… cheating
Delving, digging… diving
Struggling, shriveling… drowning
Living, stiffening… dying

Story of a flower

A flower picked by a hand pretty and caressed by her lips in love… cloistered within her silky hair and wanted nothing in world… smiled in joy and radiated fragrance… till the day came when she brushed the flower off her life.

The flower fallen on street… was crushed under her feet… and died alone…

For You Mach

Apology

Apology according to me is a very strong emotion that supersedes our own ego. Unlike a politician’s apology who already decides to act irresponsible to make his / her point and then go hide beneath a shameless apology and enforce the entire humanity to bow its head to the power of this expression… I wish to enumerate my own understanding towards APOLOGY.

I learnt about this expression when I was a kid though could not comprehend the gravity of its roots, reasons and repercussions. SORRY was a word we leant so easily and applied it in whimsical manner as required. Beat-up a fellow child or cheat in a game and when my own arrogance wore off and distinctly started the need of making amends I used to say SORRY to the other child. We were of course not that plagued with vanity where we used to arm-twist the vulnerable guy who is peripherally suffering the guilt. Sometimes our congeniality used to result in shared toffees and glossy marbles.

It is wonderful to be a child.

But then I also discovered that in my preteens and teens I started developing a fragile ego that started pulling me downwards whenever I sensed apathy or antipathy from the people whom I usually associated with. The despair was too much to handle at that age where I was perplexed about so many things and suffered the fallacy of idealistic environment. Part of this impotent arrogance was subscribed to the fact that if I could not fight the humiliation at home I need to fight it outside.

I lost a few good friends at that age only because I was adamant first and irrepressibly guilty later. May be it’s the same with those guys too… for they never tried to forgive me the way I did not. We were pushed away from each other on our own quintessentially idiotic will and even today… we seem to be blind enough to see what’s to be seen. But then those guys settled far off from me.

The most confident phase in my life was those early days I joined a job. I was deeply admired by most of my companions and people known, for ascending the critical stage of standing on my own feet. It literally wiped out all of those ghosts I was so obviously scared about. I did not realize my own stupidly about reaching another war zone in which people are gauged by their monetary productivity. I just thought that now I am independent and need not suppress my own sense of self worth and be proud about it.

It’s a process of harmonization where in I was guided to realize that achievements and success have their own domain that could not eclipse the purity of an emotion. And every heart seems to have a small area however minuscule it is… filled with purity. It’s the most vulnerable area that’s fiercely guarded by vices that are sugar coated with virtues. People try not to let anyone probe that deep unless they love them so dearly. Otherwise one guards their egos more aggressively than they guard their nonexistent innocence.

I started realizing the power of apology after I was subjected to millions of mortal wounds to my soul. Yet I shall not use this precious confession to those who deserve not. And those who deserve the same were kind enough to ignore my own arrogance and are always within reach.
I feel most humble when I offer my apologies to little kids. They do not know the gravity of my remorse as they look with wide eyes in fear and pain. One such an incidence I remember was I accidentally hit a four year old boy with my brief case while I was walking on pavement. I was talking on my cell phone and did not notice the tiny figure walking beside his mother and bravely fought his tears as pain seared through him. I fallen immediately on my knees and took his hands in mine and earnestly apologized looking deep in to his teary eyes. His mother was kind enough neither to intrude my predicament nor allow her son to learn a real life lesson. He just looked at me meekly and stepped behind his mother and smiled. I was forgiven

The next and most important phase realized is to keep heart clean before the girl I loved. It was a herculean task in the sense that she is adamant in her own pride as long as she could fight back. This fuelled my own ego towards a blazing fury and disgruntlement and I used to fight back. But the split second silence that followed after we banged the phone on each other’s face used to propel me towards unspeakable remorse. I was and I am so proud to call her first and apologize. Sometimes she used to stretch it to a sweet little further but usually end up in forgiving me. And the affection that followed there after used to boost my morale to a higher limit and also used to create a red flag within my psyche to never to restore that particular facet of arrogance.

Till I realized that the power to forgive someone cannot always culminate in to emotional merge. One can wrench herself despite she sculpted her lover to a best human being. It’s like carving a most beautiful statue only to abandon it to the wilderness of the world. The confidence and purity I built over a long period with her beside me suddenly faded in to oblivion and I am pushed back to skeptic uncertainty about lead me back to the fortress of my ego.

I am not sure where I am nudged towards. Either towards unabridged journey towards losing faith and stay arrogant in everything or an inevitable path towards despair and lose my identity. I wonder if I must regroup my senses back to gambling mode where I need to watch my step towards everyone and cover myself with a protective layer of insensitivity… Where I must think million times to offer my apologies not knowing if the opposite person is worthy enough to seek it…

Sometimes I feel like making a list of people I must humbly apologize. Most of them forgot the hurt I hurled towards them. That does not make me stay complacent today as I realized that whatever absolution I sought till this day turned out to be farce. Its time I need to tap the memory of those whom I hurt and ignored and to whom I owe an apology. I am not sure yet if I am capable of offering an unconditional apology. Deep within the murky depths of my selfishness I still am tainted with venom. Or perhaps… venom that saves me from the diabolic environment around me.

More than anything… I wish to know… if I could offer an apology to me and… forgive myself…

Gift

The greatest gift of life…
Growing in the warmth of your womb…
Listening to your hopes…
Feeling your love…
Waiting to see your tears meet curvy smile…
Trying to reach you in its own pursuit…
Your baby’s joyous kicks bring happy tears….
You nurture your joy bundle with moments of prayer…
You gift us all with your love embodied in that tiny soul…

To you... Mach

Hurt a little

Hardships carved your name
On the soft core of my heart…
I cared not as I bled
Just hurt a little…when you left…

In Love

Don't Go Mach.... Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeee

Baby Dance to Beyonce

Thats how I wash my cloths

For You Mach....

Questions

Do you smile in your sleep???
Owed not ever to weep???
Did your scrub your soul clean???
Allow no memory that’s mean???
Can you buy roses again???
To wait for your new love in vain??
Won’t you recall what’s your past???
Where you broke an innocent heart???
Should you write your story book???
So shall he sneak and read like a crook???
Must you toll for those who are disloyal???
And hurt his love that’s so fragile???

Discovery

I am a lover of music. Rather I should confess I was a lover of music. I mean… I now have no serious intent or motivation to spend money or time on music unless it comes towards me on its own. I listen to songs on roads or when someone playing or when I watch TV that is very rare. I used to buy cassette tapes like mad in yester years and I still have a sack full of them collecting fungus. And the new generation CD turned out to be little expensive for me.

Nowadays the free flow of MP3 on internet and sharing amongst friends’ made me chose a few track that touched my heart. But then I do not have a dedicated MP3 music player. I bought a Nokia Ngage phone about five years that is my prized possession I rewarded myself. Even now it stands out to be the most expensive thing I bought myself.

Used to love listening to music on that a lot... The biggest problem with that set is it has some double pin (one for stereo earphones and another for microphone). And I broke the wire leads of about 3 such sets and now decided not to spend any money anymore on them and aid extortionist venders who say that it is the rare accessory.

Then I was given a basic cell phone by my office for official communication in which FM radio was there. With a single ear piece I tried relishing the music flowing but felt the auditory deprivation on the other end. I was irked and stopped listening to that too. Few days ago that cell phone gone bust and I was give another set with a stereo head phones.

I started listening to music and songs once again…

Now the discovery I was talking about is…

My resent emotional trauma made me feel so isolated and lonely when I find myself not at office surrounded by colleagues and work. The moment I go out of office I start feeling numb and just walk as if I was guided by some divine instinct. I don’t even care anymore if I get hit by a speeding truck or get crushed beneath rushing train. Sometimes when I bump in to people I smile politely and in shame that disarms most of them off their anger.

I started listening to songs and music again. Not really listening to what the song says of what the music conveys…

And today early hours… miraculously I discovered something. One song caught my attention and I started imagining myself singing that song thinking of Mach.

I smiled…

The song is… “Tum Milee…

Come around… it’s time to babyCome around..Come on now… come around…It’s time to baby… come aroundCome around… come around

Khwaabon bina, nigahen meri jee rahin thiKoi nahin tha yeh akeli meri thi zindagiOhhh yehhh…Khamosh tha honthon pe baatein nahin thiKoi nahin tha yeh akeli meri thi zindagi
Tum mile toh mil gaya yeh jahaanTum mile toh har pal hai nayaTum mile toh sabse hai… faaslaTum mile toh jaadu chaa gayaTum mile toh jeena aa gayaTum mile toh maine paaya… hai khuda

Come around… it’s time to babyCome around..Come on now… come around…It’s time to baby… come aroundCome around… come around

Palken moondein chaahat meri so rahi thiKhushboo hawaaon mein thiMaine nahin mehsoos kiMmm mm.mmJaane kahaan bahaaren meri khil rahi thiKhushboo hawaaon mein thiMaine nahin mehsoos ki

Tum mile toh mehki baarishenTum mile toh jaagi khwaahishenTum mile toh rangon ka hai silsilaTum mile toh jaadu chaa gayaTum mile toh jeena aa gayaTum mile toh maine paaya hai khuda

Ta ra ra.. ta ra ri re… ta ra ra

Tune duaaein suniDil ki sadaiyen suniTujhse main maangu aur kyaTujh bin adhura hun mainTere sang poora hun mainKarta hun tera shukriya

Kaise kahoon, kaise kahoon…Kaise kahoon…kaise kahoon…Kaise kahoon lamhe mujhe choo rahe hainAisa laga hain inmein tera hi toh ehsaas haiOhh hoooKaise kahoon dil mein nayi aahaten hainAisa laga hain inmein tera hi toh ehsaas hai

Tum mile toh mera dil gayaTum mile toh sab kuch mil gayaTum mile toh logon se kya vaastaTum mile toh jaadu chaa gayaTum mile toh jeena aa gayaTum mile toh maine paaya hai khuda

Come around… it’s time to babyCome around..Come on now… come around…It’s time to baby… come aroundCome around… come aroundCome around

And since then… I am listening to songs and music… relishing them in a way... that probably relished by only those who are hopelessly in love…

I imagine Mach smiling at me while I sing a happy song…

I imagine Mach frowning at me when I sing sad song…

Such a brilliant idea to oscillate between pleasure and pain… instead of being corroded by sadness that took over my future…

Don’t you think girls?? Don’t you think guys???

..........................................................................................................................Don’t you think Mach???

Ops...

Smile fragile
Life docile

Vanity vain
Pride pain

Truth… a grain
Anguish’s rain

Thoughts pensive
Thinking extensive

Sleep seducing
Joy reducing

Envy acidic
Apathy vitriolic

Dutiful deceit
Cryptic conceit

Misty musings
Silently accusing

Hopes tantalizing
Reality traumatizing

Dreams inviting
Death enticing

What’s wrong with me???... Sometimes I make no sense even to me… you decide if you like what I wrote or equally perplexed by it…

Fallen

I watch you from the veils of dark
I see your bliss shine so stark…
I throttle my voice to keep silent
Lest I listen to lost love in your melody evident…
I close my eyes to keep your image imprisoned
And I hold my heart to let it not lose the rhythm…
I tried billion ways to see you smile once
Now I die to find faded memories and nuance…
Please leave your foot prints in time and sand
I will fight oceans and waves with hopes and strands…
If you remember everything that’s first in your life
I pray… you think of me for a while…
If floods of tears cleansed my love in your heart
I will hold your love in my blood as it darts…
I kill all else and self too… if I could get you back
Just waiting to see if you turn back and see what my heart lacks…

Here I am…

The day you make me feel I am yours…
I am yours…
The day you make sure… I am no more…
I am still yours…

Mute Tear

It’s been more than a month I have been raving, ranting and vomiting my so called pain in my oral, written and physical expressions about me being hurt very badly.

Yesterday night I received a call from her at about 2300hrs. I was first jolted to realize that I was listening to the most endearing ringtone I set for her calls. I was even perplexed because it was almost ten long days of unilateral silence… and I was little drunk as I had so called good time with one of my friend. We were talking about so many things including her and I fondly remembered those days when we used to have a sweet argument about permitting to get drunk.

Day by day I could sense her resolve getting consolidated in reaching a phase where she won’t even remember me spontaneously. There were times when she used to scream and cry when I switch off my cell when I watch movies. But things are different now and she just tries not to reach me.

Why should I assume otherwise???

Perhaps it’s too hard to go through all this self inflicted pain that is getting layered and masked with so many other matters that are routine.

Most of my friends who try to share my anguish are really perturbed in finding a sane reason to make me see and regain my poise. And they now are not even hesitating to tell me that in a snappy manner that whatever happened in past is some kind of masked exploitation. They wish to end up this perhaps time wasting rambling to its conclusion.

I keep silent and agree not with them. It’s not that simple to say anything about anyone in which no other person however close is allowed. It’s an exclusive zone where we relished what we relished and we suffered what we suffered.

My drunken senses could not quite comprehend if I was hallucinating about the ring tone I set for her. When I realized that I was not hallucinating, I ran and picked the phone and cut her call. Then when I called back I could listen to her subdued voice with hesitance filled in.

Now days it’s becoming very difficult for both of us to communicate the way we used to.

I am so scared to say anything that might look like I am trying to elongate the conversation which she is no more receptive about. If I speak short and to the point may be I am enforcing her belief in a wrong way that I am losing interest in her. And I sometimes am having difficulty in telling the most important things that I need to share with her…totally going astray. And when she eventually hangs up the phone I go weak and disappointed as I realized that… I could not share things with her the way I used to do in bygone days.

Her voice was too low and… perhaps… she wanted to say something and prefers not to say anything. Perhaps she was bleeding within as she ruthlessly cut me off on her own. It shall not be a wound that gets healed though stops bleeding.

I wonder how badly she wanted to talk to me but could not talk to me because of her own decision. Perhaps she is finding it difficult to experience the kind of intimacy we shared and control she had in enforcing her opinion on me… to share with someone else. Perhaps deep inside she is missing me badly and wish to reach me and yet blocked by her own consensus.

And my own introspection sometimes makes me wonder if I exploited the loneliness of this girl in the name of love. Had she happen to get herself surrounded with convivial social environment in which she is deeply loved and highly respected, she would not have loitered anywhere outside her bounds even in the name of adventure or solace. When she was evolving unaided by her immediate vicinity with so much of apathy and sneer, she found me so receptive and made a decision to be with me and my love towards her.

I feel so sad…

So impotent and unable to make her talk to me… should she be suffering something. Should she need sharing… should she just need a kind of solace that’s just silence and nothing else. But I already made a very bad impression on her with my billion questions multiplied with million theories.

I wish to implore her and beg her again beneath my projected arrogance there lies a fear. Fear for her safety. I hate my own entanglements that make me not go active in shielding her from harm’s way. Deep down the core I prefer to treat a human… human. I am totally unaware of the peels in which he or she is encased. Whether they are capable to solve their own problems, if they are endowed with money and power, should they really need my active participation or not??? I do not consider contemplating these questions for those I love dearly.

I still am fighting vehemently with all my friends and well wishers. I am trying to tell them that my faith in her was never misplaced. I am making sure that my own will power not to go mercurial as depression is taking over.

But… I wish… I could still be there for her. It’s like standing before her home with her doors closed….

And deep inside her home… she is weeping silently…

With mute tears sliding down her cheeks…

I love you so much Mach…