swirling rest

The self and the rest of the best that swirls around my world at times and on other they just ties up. Rarely in the very next moment I tend to see how much affinity i used to have in a longer run for some acquaintance or for none? In the most inner self of my ruckus till date that have left me unsettled till now is not for one or the some to blame for the nor the devil neither the deity. But yet once you take a closer rule in to the reflection of the whole spectrum what you see and realise is leave for left is some part of yourself.
In the exile of the thought where you might once forget some of the most memorable moments but you simply won’t forget the one the very one when shared something so close as touching skin. Where the skin perspired together living in the winds died there own death as no gale came for them. What I have realised that such a moments of close proximity leaves you in a lurch. People die fast young and old but moments are awake till the blood rushes in to your head.
Being for the first flower you saw blooming, the smell of wet soil, and the cuckoo of the birds, the first train journey, and the drop of coin as pocket money, the first bike ride, and the first time you kissed someone and the first time you lived in the confidence of the else. Like as boyzone sings “it’s only words and words are all I have “a promise unkempt is like a many such moments brazenly alive. We don’t mind where its mind in to it only, the rest is questioned too and thrown in the mud to settles down under the scorching heat for some more layers. As they remain unturned they form their own history of existence and death.
It mere human nature like the dogs tale like the swinging branch like the rising tides like the snowfall, like the money swirling from trees to trees like the waves dancing over each other next to none but the self or other self of the one
Complex isn’t it this is how I perceive it may be just a brood. Next for the lost innocence in the exile from those acquaintances as the world calls may be too less to be talked about or even mere for profusion. I seek a staring in the eyes to seek the truth that how I have turned is not what I feel I shall have liked to. Mostly the breeding disconnect with the connected and less is dying apart for less or more I am like an alien over the greenery where some flowers bloom but only to be washed by the pouring rain drops. Much more the affinity that was visible is getting blurred with a few more connected in the longest short distance I have travelled over the sparkles on the eve of lights on a couple of years. Yet the stand reaffirms the fall over proximity of just being alike a loss again, a triumph I guess I shall breath under the castle for the overgrown gust. To be penned yet further….

Not unfelt

When I think, I think I shall not because it takes too much of effort and breaths to make nonsense sensible or vice versa. Profusion aren’t merely a reflection of what I am in to and going all through in the middle of the day sometimes I roll from the hill and find the wind pushing me uphill. Tussling amongst the push and the pull the fear of the fall or the ball is not there rather I feel obscure of the fall.
At moments I feel ashamed of the inert panic on account what and who ever it shall not have an induction effect on some of the most proud gems I have on the paths of pebbles. The sparkle of which had made the path glowed
The choice which I make is not a choice I had meant but more than that. Giving away something does not mean I didn’t wished own but yes the preoccupation is something that I shall have not been entangled so much so that it could have been stagnant as it is being shown over here.

I feel I shall tell this straight, all along I was leading you on me, using you, keeping you waiting for something that wasn’t there in full not any time juggling between the now and the then, letting you get your hopes up for me as long as I wished I would be there but guess was still crawling and in the short span of time just brought grief and none. Figuring out the rest in all of the best just for the short term guest I felt and yet am feeling unrest.
During the small strides I have leaped across the roads and all the places inside out for but may be I feel at times yes I too feeble to make a choice for myself once and all, running away isnt what I have always done but even moving along with it is like running on sand the faster you want to turn it off the more you sunk in to it.
Seems a long way to go from here as well but all in one go I don’t feel to induct numbness nor do it do which I don’t but to hang it on over the cliff I would choose the full swing once again and oscillate till I till I …

“I love you. It's not a weight you must carry around. I love you. It's not a box that holds you in. I love you. It's not a standard you have to bear. I love you. It's not a sacrifice I make. I love you. It's not a pedestal you are frozen upon. I love you. It's not an expectation of perfection. I love you. It's not my life's whole purpose (or your's). I love you. It's not to make you change. I love you. It's not even to make you love me. I love you. It's as pure and simple as that.” Not mine but read something like somewhere just came in to mind like many other things …. Till now…

Some ice, dusk and dawn

The limits of the unlimited vagueness in the empty vessels of time that i feel make me numb. Looks like they all are more than a few facts which we tend to reckon on for the fib and feast of life. The more which i tend to figure out of the less I have lived in and the more I have desired out of it
Running away from I in me, I feel am I looking in for something new, or it’s just the old me in I that is coming up again posting a masquerade. Mesmerizing at how far I have come for the rest of the things was merely a moment of transition. How deeply I was engrossed in the overwhelmed moments and where was i lost under the profusion of the due.

Largely I quest for the depth of shallowness of the moments that graved the once lived and left. It meant a lot all through, as meant as worlds façades. How many times I have played the snake and ladder the moment I felt assured am just rolled down to the gushing water for a splash of verve.

But yet the zeal inside doesn’t allow me to settle down under the marine along with the mermaids of the shallowness. Else would like to drove my wings along with the ducks dancing on the waves, no matter how many times I shall be doused. But yet today I feel I don’t care anymore for something deep inside me have enslaved to exist and don’t know what is it..

Till then however the winds wish to fly me off to various horizons of life and show me some ice, grass, rainbow, some down pours dusk and dawn .. I shall be the I

Dark Calmness

Closed my eyes as they were rove ring around
Clasping the lids together to shun it under the calm darkness

The radiance under those lashes were still flowing
As if the droll was not thwarted with the lids..

Flamboyant, Allured, stagnant, stuck, shocked
A mere transfusion of transparency those fling in them

A reflect of the affect over the dearth of the presence
Was it merely an unseen veracity of the absent presence

A reason to cheer for a season to dance to, a day to celebrate
Today why under the sun and moon no rays fall on me..

It is not afar the closed lids unseen, yet there
Understanding the void, living the unlived, believed the belief

No matter how many times they speak from away.
Unseen was me yet judged and affirmed to the task at hay

Seemed all right for the flight to the kinder land..
With non ambiguous flows of words forming a stream

Yet I lost the boost down the stream was rowing till now..
Seems the clutches were not strong the new stream allured enough

Pushed ajar, flourishing in the possessed possessiveness
To the day I say and dance as its still closed in the dark calmness..

Short Acquaintance

Naissance naive obscure acquaintance short yet deep as in the depths,
Frilled with small moments, closed knitted with less slow encounters,
Fudged with sweet fights, drilled with long conversation,
Care and passion bridged, fall and rise of desire.
Anomalies of ambiguity, sublime talks over and on...
Blunt and blatant drift, shut and closed calculation of preposition.
Lost meaning of words, sheer cuts left of denial of drift
Grooming differences over naive prepositions....
Losing the flying kite, for the new flight.
knowness to no ness as mere acquaintance.
A thought less thought a fall unseen a reason not sought.
An option not explored mere a loss.
Better to fly far then swing back better be lost then swirling the rope,
With a hope to be clinched but castrated
As the castle turned in to hay, left was a mortuary of words.
Where once i lived by then late on i died by them..

जब मैं छोटा था, शायद शामे बहुत लम्बी हुआ करती थी.
मैं हाथ में पतंग की डोर पकडे, घंटो उडा करता था, वो लम्बी"साइकिल रेस",
वो बचपन के खेल, वो हर शाम थक के चूर हो जाना,
अब शाम नहीं होती, दिन ढलता है और सीधे रात हो जाती है.शायद वक्त सिमट रहा है..

जब मैं छोटा था, शायद दोस्ती बहुत गहरी हुआ करती थी,दिन भर वो हुज़ोम बनाकर खेलना, वो दोस्तों के घर का खाना, वोलड़कियों कीबातें, वो साथ रोना, अब भी मेरे कई दोस्त हैं,पर दोस्ती जाने कहाँ है, जब भी "ट्रेफिक सिग्नल" पे मिलते हैं"हाई" करतेहैं, और अपने अपने रास्ते चल देते हैं,होली, दिवाली, जन्मदिन , नए साल पर बस SMS आ जाते हैं शायद अब रिश्ते बदल रहें हैं..

जब मैं छोटा था, तब खेल भी अजीब हुआ करते थे,छुपन छुपाई, लंगडी टांग, पोषम पा, कट थे केक, टिप्पी टीपी टापअब इन्टरनेट, ऑफिस, हिल्म्स, से फुर्सत ही नहीं मिलती..

शायद ज़िन्दगी बदल रही है.जिंदगी का सबसे बड़ा सच यही है.. जो अक्सर कबरिस्तान के बाहरबोर्ड परलिखा होता है."मंजिल तो यही थी, बस जिंदगी गुज़र गयी मेरी यहाँ आते आते" जिंदगी का लम्हा बहुत छोटा सा है.कल की कोई बुनियाद नहीं हैऔर आने वाला कल सिर्फ सपने मैं ही हैं.अब बच गए इस पल मैं..तमन्नाओ से भरे इस जिंदगी मैं हम सिर्फ भाग रहे हैं..

इस जिंदगी को जियो न की काटो

A dream

I wonder, while I profound within and out in the domains of the thought I live and think. I have always had this quest from deep within which provokes that attitude matters a lot. Even though an individual differ from each other and the degree isn’t merely associated with the zenith of attained success in ones life. Appearances build are mere physical anatomy that preserves the outer differences which even some psychologist agree to.

Contrary to this I feel is that the traits shown in personality or character are a reflection of how we carry ourselves. And these are largely influenced by the experiences and the domain in which strive. Further more its basically how we build ourselves and break down to those moments which are inevitable or overwhelming. Believing in disbeliefs are quite obnoxious but this primarily deviant in nature which induces dream. A dream, within all of us, for which we all live.

Wondering whether an establishment in life is mere an indication of the personality. I doubt and refute to believe there are occasions where factors other than our belief academics. Culture, religion, region and other stratification have there own major roles to play, but these to minuscule though cannot be negated. The transfusion from communal to secular, anarchy to democracy, feudal to neo feudal the state as whole is adopting and transforming. But when we trickle down and look at the people we are stagnant and doen not move which is quite evident. Qualms on grounds of regions, religion, homogeneity, caste creed are deeply rooted within even the academically excellent people who term them selves progressive are rotting with such a feel. In a cocoon of self we have restricted ourselves too opulent with selfish thought to be permeable to any extent. I feel yet today we strive in the primitive era of the humanity where bonhomie is a mirage and an essence of sharing is a trance. I is important but we shall never do away with the fact as for every I we have a you and that’s the basic premise of the life. I am short of this flowing fluid to but this stagnation of alienating attitude isn’t what I desire for but yet I drop this running fluid here with a stop of feel to see the vary…