Archive for May, 2012

Its All About YOU

May 27, 2012 38 comments

I got my 1000th hit today!

If you are reading this – then it’s only because of YOU that I found this moment in time to cherish life with my sensitivity and your words of appreciation.

Thank YOU so much.

Well, I feel – escalated, overwhelmed, jubilant, gratifying and motivated.

But, there is this certain numbness that is slowly yet evidently creeping inside.

I never said I’ll be undertaking a journey in an effort to find myself. I was not fighting bewilderments that plague my cerebral rationale. I was not pretentious. I was not lonely. I, surely, was not good at creating an aura of words that would sound humble and solicitous.

So, what was it that I was looking for? I mean there has to be a reason for things to happen, right?

The reason, I felt worth a belief, was YOU.

As I wandered in this mysterious world of Blogging, I found that it had been graced by so many brilliant, intellectual and powerful Bloggers who had the passion of Blogging in the purest form achievable.

I came across verses depicting the amalgamation of beautiful contrasts.

I read accounts of zealous handlings of the complicated challenges life could throw.

I devoured poems about God, Love, Strength, Mother, Struggles, Attitude, Heart Breaks and so many addictive illustrations.

I read articles where YOU endeavored so sincerely and ardently to share your truest feelings without any inhibitions.

Astonished and in awe – I did the only thing I could do – to follow YOU.

I went through your words, felt the bliss, believed in the pain, exhumed the surprises and lived the moment.

The numbness was of the quandary that how should I impress YOU enough so that YOU would grace me with your presence, again?

I only figured out one solution – to present my soul in the bare minimum ornamentation and bleed with the aroma of honest expressions.

This is a small token of love and respect that I would like to usher to some of my inspirational Bloggers listed below.

(Just spent the whole afternoon designing it !!)

But before that – Suhani (my wife) and my angels Noelle and Linysha have been my blood, oxygen and all the strength by my side.


The Angel Inside

May 26, 2012 24 comments

Hi Everyone. 

This piece was written some years back for the conscious admiration and modest perceptive of the love for the Girl Child.

It’s not easy being a woman in this muddled and pokerfaced world powered by testosterone fed junkies.

Hats off to you all for the journey you take from innocence to sheer perfection. 

Sleeping like an angel in your heart

She has been dreaming all the way.

Sing a song for the child in you

Let her know how much you care

Touch, feel, open her eyes n

wish, smile, it’s prayer time.

So, say it, your dearest wish

n She’ll make you alive, once again.

You thought the moon was beautiful,

follow her n

She’ll take you to the stars

Hold her hands, make her walk.

Her small steps, you heart will talk.

Tears, smile, don’t even try to hide.

Heart, soul, She knows all that’s inside.

So, say it, your dearest wish

n She’ll make you beam, once again.

This story is like a Fairy Tale.

Look into her eyes – your mirror is there.

All the magic n all the love.

All desired, even the heaven above

Kiss, tell, it’s all you’ve to do.

Hope, believe, She’ll take you through.

So, say it, your dearest wish

n She’ll make you blessed, once again.

When you’ll long for no more.

When you’ll feel you’ve got it all.

That night you’ll dream of her, once again.

Would feel like first kiss, the first rain.

Hold, gentler, She won’t let you go.

Love, life, is all she cares for.

So, say it, your dearest wish

n She’ll make you believe, once again.

Categories: Poems

Blogging for Your Grace

May 22, 2012 29 comments

If you are reading this –

I am grateful for the space you provide to me, in this chaotic existence, to be honest to myself.

Don’t be pleased of me

for the things I do

or the words I say.

‘cas of these ghostly spears

piercing deep into my faith,

I must bleed in dismay.

I hold myself

and try to regain,

aware of the dithering delay

I seek me in you

as I seek to be pure

in this lonesome array.

Thoughts of pain

and feel of love

shredding my conscience.

Drowned and overwhelmed

in my lost fantasies.

I am a blurred precise.

I break and heal

and laugh with zeal

in my hushed cries.

With your honest adore,

I shall feel no impair and

resurrect beyond any demise.

Toys, Chocolates and a Cake

May 20, 2012 21 comments

As she walked past the toys shop next to the big China Bazaar, she could not but stop herself from having a look into the magical world stitched in fur, assembled in plastic and wood and drawn from the colorful strands of clay. She had never entered the shop and always just stood outside and wondered if these toys do get alive behind closed doors and switched off lights. The idea of how things which bring smile and happy feelings into everybody could not be full of life was simply rejected by her innocent mind. She had some money and wanted to buy a doll. But she stopped thinking that sooner or later she would grow old for them.

Just three or four shops away was this wooden-finish shop with golden lit lights and a sweet aroma that made her stop and almost reach for the change in her pocket. A huge transparent box with numerous partitions, each holding a different variety of chocolate was placed overlooking the large glass door. Some red, some green, some in the shape of small Christmas trees and some just brown. She wet her lips and started moving ahead, hoping that someone might gift her a box in the future. She could then get to know how those things taste.

She finally stopped in front of the door of an old bakery shop on the corner of the street almost overwhelmed by the mammoth shopping mall.

The shopkeeper asked, “Hello Lady! What can I offer you?”

She quietly pointed at the small heart shaped cake with a red topping of three cherries and a white rose on the top. It was almost the right amount she had saved to buy her what she needed.

Later in the night, when everybody was asleep and the big clock at the railway station stuck twelve, she got up from her bed. With her best efforts not to wake anybody up, she quietly moved across the hallway with her brown parcel in hands. She stopped in front of a window – the beautiful moon shining in the black velvet sky. With those bright, twinkling stars as her company she lit seven small, colorful candles on the cake and with closed eyes – made a wish.

She had a name but no one to relate to. She could not remember any faces other than the matrons and the rest of the children at the orphanage.

She hymned slowly as she cut her first birthday cake,”Happy Birthday to me.”


May 17, 2012 10 comments

“So, which one of these do you think should make it.”

Mr. Browne spoke as he glided the two 10 x 12 photographs towards Natasha and Patrick sitting in front of him. Both of them got hold of one photograph each and went into a deep study mode as if to decipher the hidden codes of expression.

The Editor-in-Chief got out of his wobbly leather chair and paced towards the coffee machine next to the large glass window.

“Any of you been to the new restaurant on the Bella Square? What’s its name?” Mr. Browne enquired looking out of the window as he took a sachet of sugar-free sugar and shook it three-four times on his left palm.

La Appétit Désirer,” answered Natasha as she exchanged her photograph with the one Patrick was looking into. “The food is French, less in the plate and costly.”

“I think they are known for their desserts and all those sweet stuffs, right?” Mr. Browne spoke as he poured coffee in three white mugs.

Patrick got up and picked up two mugs as Mr. Browne took the third and settled down on the leather chair. He put one on the side table next to Natasha as she was holding the two photographs and analyzing something. Patrick stood behind her.

“Shall we get your lunch today from there, sir?” Suggested Natasha.

“No. I am in no mood for any French today. The owner has already invited me and my wife after the Fund Raiser. I think they are the one who are going to look after the food on Saturday for the event.”

“Good opportunity for them to initiate with the Who-of-the-What of the state on a flavorsome note.” Patrick added as he took a sip of the coffee.

“So, which one of those?” Mr. Browne again gave the cue.

“I think this one with the trucks and people on the background gives the photograph more complete look than this plain desert one.” Natasha gave her conclusion as she held both the photographs together for Mr. Browne to see.

“Exactly what I was going to suggest,” said Patrick. “I think if we enlarge this for the background of the stage; it’s going to be more complete and vibrant for the Fund Raiser.”

Mr. Browne pressed a number on the intercom and said, “Cindy, the one with the trucks in the background,” and hung up the phone.

I took one more excruciating look on the two pictures of malnourished dead bodies of six-seven Ethiopian children – none aged more than three years, and realized that one of them had trucks on the background.

When Your Blog Bleeds for You

May 16, 2012 11 comments

Yes, I do write whatever my infinitesimal existence in this colossally feverish world makes worth of. I lure myself into a stage of life where people should get impressed by my gender, humble verses, pain, smart thoughts or struggles (all in alphabetical order). I seek warmth. I seek companionship in handling what I have created. I seek appreciation.

So, what is so special about Blogging exactly?

Blogging has got a soul. (The straighter – The better, I guess!!)

What the obsession of Blogging has taught me is to be myself. I don’t have to imitate anyone. It flows. The art of Blogging is not defined. You do get a platform to start. But how you whittle your aura is solely up to you.

At some point of time your blog would start reminding you of who you are. You could be a different person to the superficial world. But once you enter the luminescent hallways of your blog, the poignant glockenspiel of your thoughts and recollections would summon up the broken, shattered or just misplaced pieces of your identity and give you the courage and space to reassemble.

If it helped you, it would certainly help other. Just keep the faith.  

It hurts bad to see people start with the ardor and guts but slowly and painfully give away a passion. I have seen many blogs, well arranged, energetic and beautifully woven, come to a sudden, unexplained end. Perhaps they accomplished what they ever wished for through their words and pictures. Perhaps they lost the impetus to fight everything that broke them. Perhaps they graduated to a different echelon of self consciousness. Perhaps – they just gave up.

One thing that seems true is that we won’t be Blogging forever. These wonderful and humble forewords with self would, one day, simply become faded impressions on our invigorated heart. We write to seek, express, share and connect. This journey is full of hope and infatuation of creating, following and recreating – the themes, the words, the pictures or the person himself.

And your Blog would never hold you back to a certain anyone that you were. It would let you go and seek not even a corner in your heart. It would always love you back. Why?

Because…Blogging has got a soul.

Loving You

May 15, 2012 30 comments

I’ve got something to tell you..

You never saw me following,
but I did watch every step of yours.
B’cas I cared for you more than anything.
Life had just begun for me – of course.
I may not be the man with you,
but I’ll be the one always there for you.

I never got it what do I love?
The smile, the grace you’ve got.
The voice or was it just you?
Whatever – they all mean a lot.
I may not be the man walking with you,
but I’ll be the one always caring for you.

I had a world to tell you about.
Never got the night to show the mooon.
But, now I can see the words reaching you.
I don’t know – late or soon?
I may not be the man holding your hand,
but I’ll be the one always praying for you.

I don’t ask for what you can’t give.
I don’t promise for what I can’t give to you.
In time you would be walking miles away,
and I’ll be always walking with you.
I may not be the man you would cry for,
but I’ll be the one always smiling for you.

At last,
More than to let you know my love,
I want my prayers to reach him.
I’ve never wished for anything so hard,
a smile on your face – everlasting.
I may not be the man you would love,
but I’ll be the one always loving you.

Categories: Poems Tags: , , , ,