Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The Depths

I never felt the need to try to understand the vicissitudes of life because I was always surrounded by people who I knew would handle if there ever was fallout. A sense of tacit security, a blanket of unconditional assurance that I needn't worry, prevailed. But, life is a good teacher; it teaches all that you ought to learn. I am only twenty-one, and not old enough to say that I have experienced all that life has to offer. But, I will still say what I have seen, understood and imbibed of life --

When there are new sights, sounds and feelings every day; you say life is an adventure. Whenever, there is a betrayal and only one question comes to your mind- "Why is this happening to me?”; life seems a conspiracy cooked up by a Higher Power. When someone you spent more than half your life with, someone you loved, suddenly departs never to return; life becomes a joke. When events unfold quite unlike expectations; you come to believe that life is nothing, but an illusion. When every venture you undertake is a success; life is a party. When whatever you do is not enough; life is a struggle. When you look around and see a competitor in every person; life is a race. When you can sense someone not telling the truth; life is a drama. 

These are a few shades of life. Life is an art. We are the artists. We may not have the freedom to choose colours but, beautiful picture can still be painted.







CHILDREN, ye have not lived, to you it seems
Life is a lovely stalactite of dreams,
Or carnival of careless joys that leap
About your hearts like billows on the deep
In flames of amber and of amethyst.


Children, ye have not lived, ye but exist
Till some resistless hour shall rise and move
Your hearts to wake and hunger after love,
And thirst with passionate longing for the things
That burn your brows with blood-red sufferings.


Till ye have battled with great grief and fears,
And borne the conflict of dream-shattering years,
Wounded with fierce desire and worn with strife,
Children, ye have not lived: for this is life.


Sarojini Naidu



Friday, February 3, 2012

A Bumpy Road

The road on which the wheels of our relationship turn,
Has been a bumpy one.
Lots of ups and downs;
At one time it’s high-spirits
And in another collisions.


Every time I begin to feel that I understand you,
That there is not an iota of detail I am unaware of;
You somehow manage to surprise,
How you do it or where it comes from,
I surmise.


Monday, January 16, 2012

That is Your Specialty


Things that could be expressed simply,
Were woven into an intricate web of words.
Took long for the meaning to surface,
The world had moved,
Was too late to reply.
That is your specialty, my dear friend.

You took all the bullets shot at you,
Silently, never uttering a single curse,
Without an option,
Had to do it for the one you loved.
That is your specialty, my dear friend.

The truth about myself,
Was so gently spilled into my ears,
My eyes open,
Now, I can see clearer.
Again, your specialty, my dear friend.

You embraced me,
When everyone had turned faces away,
That is your virtue, my dear friend.

Unaware

Climbing up the Rope of Life,
My grip grew stronger as I progressed.
All those memories behind,
Were left to crumble down,
Disappear.

Signs of you,
Were in my thoughts no more...
But, the feeling,
Still,
Survived.

"Now, I have a firm hold on it."
I said.
No more damage can be done,
You can shake me?
No, not anymore.

And just when I say this,
Why do I lose my grip, again?
Why can't the hollow you created be filled?
Why does it affect me still?


Why does the pain not go?
Yet, no one to answer my pleas,

And you lie somewhere,
Absolutely Unaware!