Somethings Would Remain Forever

Someday existence would cease,

Soon some day would cease to exist...

But the moment You look back,

I would still be alive...

For Somethings Would Remain Forever.

Somethings Would Remain Forever...

The way they had then been,

The time You had bid good-bye;

Believing and hoping silently.

Somethings would be just the way

You had left them at and hoped to find

Someday when You would look back

And watch your hopes fulfilled.

Impressions on the shores of the mind

The foam of the breaking waves

Little droplets pouring in rhyme

Would all reflect remembrances of good ol' days.

And I'd see to it that somethings remain eternally

For You to find them whenever You search;

To not let Your expectations and dreams

Shatter and turn to dust.

Somethings Would Remain Forever...

Not because they are eternal

But because we believe them to be eternal.

Beliefs would remain forever.

Somethings Would Remain Forever.

The Essay that won me the First Place

BUDDHA LEFT HIS PALACE IN SEARCH OF PEACE AND CONTENTMENT- WHAT ARE WE AIMING AT?

The first thought that comes to my mind as I am penning down this essay is, “At long last, having read The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari, The Alchemist, and to a certain extent, Osho, would serve as an advantage”.

Jokes apart, Peace and Contentment may sound ordinary words out of the Oxford English Dictionary, but they hold a lot of meaning within them. The path to Peace and Contentment, yet, remains to be explored to completion; yet remains to be walked upon by many men, and those many men might as well include us.

Buddha apparently had realized that Happiness was something evidently not present in gold coins and hearty feasts in huge palaces, or in those heavily embroidered robes of royalty. It was much more present in the natural fabrics, the wooden chappals and in sitting below a Banyan Tree at Gaya.

Well, what Buddha did was probably quite dramatic. But it sent a message out. The quest for happiness couldn't possibly be fulfilled within the realms of materialism. Peace and Contentment were maybe something that we had all been searching for in the wrong places, with the wrong notions.

Why is it that most of us are running behind those green strips of papers, flashing out silver and gold circlets and getting materialistic by each second? Why is it that we forget and ignore and ridicule the joy in small things, in details, and keep staring at the big picture screened on the drapes of our mind?

What is that inevitable charm in the green of rupee notes and the silver of coins that the green of the fresh grass blades and the silver tint of the clouds cannot overpower?

The paradox is that, almost all the answers to these questions, almost everything we need to know, is already present, deep within our own selves. ‘Perception’ is a clue.

Buddha had decided to find happiness and peace in meditation, in the blissful company of himself, in the quest of exploring his own mind. He was a human, so are we.

I am not implying that one should absolutely give up on all his possessions, strand his family and set out in search for contentment in the not-so-pleasing-for-a-holiday streets of Bihar. But what one must realize, is that, Peace and Contentment aren't something that money can buy, or something you could find being sold out in discounts at the Dollar Shops, neither something that are totally beyond the reach of the common man. They are something that are already present right within our souls, and all we need to do, to get to them, is realize our dreams, realize our potentials and realize the power and enigma that we ourselves pose unto us. What we need to do is expand our horizons and look within, rather than peeking around.

My dream and ambition is to be at oneness with my own self; to set out on the exploration of my own mind and soul. And my advice, that would also serve as the words for my conclusion and a sincere attempt at inspiring all the human beings out there, in search of Peace and Contentment, lost in the muddle of materialism, would be-

Just keep in mind the words that had once been so aptly quoted by some brilliant and wise personality-

‘THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THINGS IN LIFE COME FREE OF COST.’

(Dated: November 19, 2008)

Sipping over a hot cup of Mocha and sniffing in the comforting aroma it offered, she spoke to herself virtually,

"Speak to me, My Knight".

The sunset cast the skies a purple tinge, darkness was on its way.

Redefining Love and struggling to maintain the perfect balance between providing space as well as an everlasting companionship for her Knight, she couldn't help ceasing the little droplets of salty liquid trickling down her cheeks.

As fiercely she wanted to maintain her Atheism, she wished there could be something or someone she could pray or make a wish to, with the belief that the prayer or wish would be heard. She wanted to pray for the safety of her Knight, who was apparently in a battlefield of unknown realms that managed to evade her speculation.

84hrs with no news or word that could count to be informative regarding her Knight, she played with the thought of stepping into the pages of The Alchemist’s protagonist, and looking for omens. And what an apparent omen showed her 28hrs ago was a November Rain; A November Rain in Mumbai; or maybe just a drizzle; But, in November; In Mumbai. She couldn't possible fathom much meaning out of this except that it was unusual, was something unpredicted. So?

All she was concerned about at the moment was her Knight. Was He all right? Was He happy? Was He alone? Was He in too much of trouble? What was the situation? What exactly was it that was bothering Him? Who was He against in this battlefield in realms unknown?

She would keep revising happier times they had shared not very long ago. She had now known Him for the past 5 months and 19 days. They had come together in A Union roughly 3 months back; A virtual union. Yet it appeared to be so important for sustenance.

Glancing at the spot in the purple-pink haze in the skies where the sun had been a few minutes ago, she realized there was a sweet pain in patience; something similar to the comfort in the addiction to caffeine; Similar to the happiness and contentment in the inertia in being loneliness and sorrow. It wasn't hope. Perhaps it was a hope for a hope.

Another day had passed, taking decades in it. But almost three centuries were to go before she could be clear of worries.

An Array Of Veils

A complete confusion of thoughts
Emotions jumbled up and distant
This has been an almost regular description
Of what has been done throughout the day.

Sometimes a sunny warm breeze
Clear crystal drops of clarity
Blend in with the sublime
Unclear and inscrutable complexity.

There is too much in the small tin
Too random to be categorized
Some completely unknown crumbs
Of a meal, tasteless, cooked up in the mind.

A transfer of substantial epithets
Paradoxes and circumlocutions rhyme
Smiles are confused with similes
A second symbolizes eternal time.

Discontentment keeps surfacing to cover up its rival
Likes misconceptions veiled by conceptions
'On the surface an unintelligible lie
But beneath, the intelligible truth' shrivels.

All the Great Sophistication of those Three Words

Not many days have passed since this little conversation I had with my mother.

"Yesterday was the first ever time I used some words I'd never used before, for someone."

"What word???!!" The response was alarming.

"Err...I used the plural form; 'Words', not 'Word'." I figured out she'd thought of swear words.

"Oh...What words?" A sense of relief, but there was alertness.

"Guess..." A smug look gradually taking shape on my facial features.

"Hmm... Did you say those three words...?" Raised eyebrows. Both of them raised.

"Which three words?" Sounding intentionally clueless.

"You said 'I Love You' to someone?" Small fits of complete exasperation.

"Err...'Too!!!' I said 'Too!!', 'I Love You too'!!!!!" As if it actually made any difference. I was trying to correct her assumption (which surprisingly turned out right), that it made up FOUR words, and not THREE.

"Oh...Great. This is getting quite much. I, during these 43 years of my life, never said those words to anyone; and here sits my daughter with the pride and assumption that she's already fallen in Love within 16 mere years of her life."

Straight face. I started with my human pyschological analysis. The first experiment was my mother.

"Yeah, well. It's actually very strange. Considering all those people who've used those words; they seem to use it so easily, so casually. And for us, it just doesn't happen that way."

"Yes. For us to say those words, we really need to be sure of it and it needs to come right from the very bottom of our hearts." Made sense to me.

"And YOU haven't said those words to anyone."

"I haven't. And I doubt I ever will."

"So that means you can never say those words since you never can mean them. Which, in turn means that you can never probably love a person right from the bottom of your heart." Courtesy: My Psychological analysis.

"Yes." That was surprisingly firm.

"You do remember that Family are also considered 'Loved Ones'." A quiet statement, that went unheard. Fortunately, or unfortunately.

Silent rolling down of a few warm drops from a pair of eyes.

Mother was busy watching the Television.

A Strange rush of Optimism

The story is simple to understand, the reason is way too complicated.

It's this strange secure feeling, the trust. Whenever He doesn't seem to reply to my messages, I've this feeling that there might be something that's not allowing Him to do so, nothing intentional, just incidence; That sooner or later, He'd reply; That He'd turn up.

When He isn't online, I take it that there's obligation, and not ignorance or any of the sort. It troubles me that if He isn't online today, that might cause a deviation to the entire day being splendid. But, there can always be a better tomorrow.

My optimism in this case perplexes me. This isn't usual for me, this isn't the way I normally am. And yet, a rush of optimism, and trust, combines to ease the phase of Patience.

He finds it touching. I find it baffling.

Could any of you provide a reason behind this strange trust?

The rare occasion where I felt gratitude towards people

I had this feeling not long ago.

For those whom I'm really close to, it must be quite a tough job at times, to bear with me. To love me, would be really hectic. My mood swings, my occasional vulnerability, my great expectations, my practice and tendency of creating pedestals; don't exactly count as what you'd call 'pleasant to cope up with'.

And yet, and yet, these are the people in my life who accept it. These are the people in my life who accept me for everything I am, for the great amount of expectations and 'obligations' that I set up for them. And they also seem to try their best to remain on those pedestals.

What a tendency, this is of mine!

I sure am unreasonable.

But, there's one among those people I feel close to, who loves unreasonable people. And, I love him.

Of The Most Simply Sophisticated Language Of The Souls

Love... at first glimpse seems to be elixir. Later on, it turns into nectar and then, much later, it turns into water. In simple words, there is the heavenly tint during the novelty period in love, which changes into an earthly divine liquid and then, finally turns into what appears to be the most common, and yet, the most important thing for sustenance.

Love is beautiful, love is eternal, love is each one's perception. Since life and the universe, in themselves, are the mere perceptions of the human mind, why would Love be any different?

Love is affection, concern, protection, bits of possession and obsession, passion and of course, the most loyal muse of artists, poets and writers since a long way back. Love should be pure, and undiluted; but then, we mix chocolate with milk and coffee with chocolate. Yet, Love in itself, appears to be the purest emotion, the purest feeling.

And what is Love, to me?

For a long time, I had this prejudice with me, that 'Love' was the feeling of concern, of respect and trust; that 'True Love' and 'Eternal Love' were only mere idiomatic phrases used in Shakespearean novels and plays; that, since nothing in life is permanent, how and why should Love be an exception?

And then, I realized, Love, for me, is what I perceive and believe it to be. If I believe love to be eternal and true, and as something that is forever present in my soul, my belief doesn't betray me. One's beliefs, one's perceptions, do not actually deceive one.

Does all that make sense?


Love is the most simply sophisticated language of the souls, after all.

Shakespearean Patience

'Tis true I've ne'er felt so strongly for any person living.

'Tis true if 'tis Love that I'm experiencing, 'tis the purest and the most fulfilling gift Thou could ever gift my barren soul.

And if 'tis Love that needs to go through tests of Patience, I promise Thee that my love would never recede. Resembling to the white orb of a moon that peeks 'tis mighty head during nights, my love would keep peeking patiently. Resembling to the infinitely stretching blue blanket of a star-studded sky, my love would keep increasing.

I shall ne'er tire of loving Thee, of caring for Thee, of missing Thee; For Thou art my Heavenly blessing. Thou art the most beautiful creation ever created by the Almighty. Thou art, last, but not the least My Knight In Shining Armour.

And Aye, I have the knowledge with myself, that Thou shalt be ever present. All I need to do, is close my eyes.

"I Love You, not just for what You are but also for what I am when I'm with You."

He makes me feel I’m important, highly talented, brilliant, and of course, THE exception. He makes me feel I’m on top of the world and he’s right beside me. He makes me feel I can do things and I can do them well. He makes me feel confident about myself. He makes me feel I AM MYSELF.

And I love the way he makes me feel this way. More importantly, I love the way he makes me fall in love with myself!!

On Independence Day

We had a "Value Education" class during our school days up to the Eighth grade. We had to maintain a 100 pages notebook, all decorated and filled with preachy text. Come August, and "Independence Day" for a synecdoche on Patriotism, would be a usual topic to fill in with more preachy text and a couple of tricolour stamp-size flags and pictures showing a fluttering piece of cloth attached to a long wooden cane clutched in the hands of a Too-Cute-To-Be-True kid. And I wondered why they never thought that making cartoon characters like Mickey mouse clutch the tricolour in their hands, instead of pink-cheeked, frock or half-pant clad kiddos might actually help rise the sales of such stickers.

Independence Day, thus, for me, meant a combination of the above, a national holiday, singing and hearing loudspeakers and TV programmes playing patriotic songs throughout the day and watching the common tricolour pinned on most chests.

It was a day when everyone seemed to have oiled their patriotic lamps and fought the War of Independence along with Lal Bahadur Shastri and Lokmanya Tilak. It was a day when you could finally use that full-white ensemble and a saffron duppata and be appreciated for it. It was also a day I could show off my marching skills. And lastly, a day that reminded me of the current presence of the month of August, and the upcoming Raksha Bandhan.

Although I loved patriotic songs, especially the "Ae mere pyaare watan" single by Mannade, the National Anthem tune and the white ensembles; the parades and the march-pasts, the lamp burning below the India Gate, the national holiday and the chocolates distributed on account of it, I could hardly be considered "Patriotic".

For me, Indians usually got "Patriotism" confused with "Religious Fanaticism" and "Race". I preferred tagging myself as a "World Citizen".

But hey! Independence Day also meant something deeper to my Artistic, Philosophical and Poetic side. Though not patriotism, I considered Independence Day to be a celebration of one's own Independence. Independence on an individual scale. Independence, as what it actually meant to ME, and to YOU.

Independence, for me, meant Breaking free of all bonds, leaving one phase and entering the other phase of life; Being self-sufficient, content and the Master of your own decisions and dreams.

And I'm quite sure, India as a whole would also have thought of Independence as more or less, the same, on the eve of the midnight of 1947.

You see, I can also read History textbooks and remember important dates.

So here's wishing you, one and all, a Happy Independence Day. Just remember, If you were moved enough by this article, Independence on an individual basis is what actually the Independence of the entire nation thrives on.

An Ode to the Endless Wetness

The splashing of mighty waves on the rocks, the salty fragrance and dampness sprayed out in the air. The roaring winds, the howling waters, the transferred epithets.

The sight of the mighty and gigantic sea is in itself highly liberating. Though it leaves one's hair and face all sticky and salty, having a little chat with a close friend and enjoying a generously spiced up corn has its own definition of fun and rejuvenation.

An ode to the lovely and soapy waters that actually clear off huge amounts of foam from our minds. It's as if the sea collects the foam from hundreds and thousands of worried and tired minds in itself.

An ode to the refreshing and highly palpable power of the gigantic stretch of wavy pleasure which in fury, might change into wavy "terror".

An ode to the similarity the sea holds with me, and quite many other lonely and subdued beings forced into living, forced into mortality.

Three cheers for the non-living and yet life-providing endless stretch of serenity in which even the sun revels drowning!!

To "Someone"

It's a tendency of mine to put up people who matter to me on high pedestals. I expect too much from them. And I want them to fulfill those expectations. Though, I always take care of preserving these highly positioned beings on the pedestals I created.

This post is actually directed towards a particular "someone" whom I consider a very important part of my life.

Trivial things matter to you, they matter to me, too. Like, there wasn't a "goodnight :)" text in the message you sent recently. Like, you called up "just like that" that day. Like, you asked "but the point is, did it bother YOU?".

May be, as of lately, I've been depending a lot on you. Sharing a lot with you. Talking a lot to you. Am I pressurizing a lot on you?

Am I expecting a trifle too much? If so, I blame it on myself, I had been impulsive. And, I am sorry for that.

Sometimes in life, there comes a strange instance when the person you had been so close to, with whom you shared each and every thing, whom you trusted, seems to become distant. And no, it's not the "People change with time" phrase that applies here, it's a realization that dawns, "You've been taking things for granted", words spoken right from within us, but yet, that seem to be a stranger's words.


I want to thank you for always being there for me, and hope that the same would be in the future too. And I want to promise you, that no matter how inconsiderate, how selfish I may become at times, there's still a person whom you can fall on when you need support, whom you can dance with when you feel happy.

Will be there with you, no matter what the circumstances, always and forever.



-- 'A friend who wishes for your happiness on every falling star.'

Life Stands On Two Hills

Life stands on two hills
Two hills not very far apart
With a deep narrow ravine in between
And no bridge, no rope to cross.

Life stands on the seashore
Staring at the water swallowing the sun
Aware of how the sand below it slips
Pondering over personifications having fun.

Life sleeps on the arch of the moon
On the edge of the highlands
And with every change in position
Is at a risk of breaking apart strands.

Life has its own mystery
Its unpredictability is the only thing predictable
Life seems to have no destiny
Love and luck all depend on the mind's cables.

Love and Hate get interwined
Fate crosses the streets not all the while
What is reality,
Even the virtual cries.

Life stands on two hills
And peaks never sit on hills
They sit ashore, enjoying
scorning over life balancing on thin lines.

Of Gender Differences

Gender differences- creeping in through the innumerable ambiguities and loopholes on the Indian Culture And Tradition branded bed sheet. In the past years and continuing right up to the current ones, like the never ending saas-bahu serials, this topic has ground for another such a never ending discussion. And yet people rant about nothing being permanent.

Gender differences- for me, the basic difference between a male species and a female species in the human race is their physical structure. Though for most other "valid" and "practical" and "unbiased" thinking congregations, it also includes "mental structure". Yeah, right. Could you please remind me the name of the famous architect who designed that bridge in our minds?

Well, I don't really know where this came from into me- genetics not quite being a reason valid enough. After all, which mother, who could occasionally turn into a fierce "women's rights lawyer" pass her genes to an unusually gender-ignorant daughter?

Well, this isn't exactly what I'd call a "non-gender-bias-awareness-campaign-article"...

cutting the long story short, I just wanted to inform you that I scored 66% on being a male in the gender identity test on tickle.com. I don't suppose I've the right, nor the desire to write an article on gender-differences nonetheless.

The kind of intimacy I share with my younger cousin brother, is palpable. There is a huge age-difference between the two of us, and the following post would make you think I am crazy, indeed!

Megh is a little 6 year old bespectacled boy, influenced greatly by those Hindi words spoken now-a-days in cartoons... his favourite and current obsession is the phrase "doodh-ka-doodh aur paani-ka-paani".

And he's one of my confidants . I confide a lot in him. I tell him each and everything. From what took place the other day to the imperceptible confusions roaming around in my mind. I know this is insane, there are a lot of risks in confiding your emotional and social thoughts to a 6 year old; but somehow, it makes me feel confident.

And of course, it also improves our brother-sister relationship.

But is this right???

For Longings...

Longing for the one moment of togetherness

for a fleeting glance of courtesy

for a distant voice echoing through the void

saying "Don't worry, I am always beside thee".

For a particle of sand that isn't wet on the sea shores

For a tear that would drop onto your palms

For a combined season of autumn and spring

For words in a long lost psalm.

I yearn for a faint voice

that keeps echoing in my dreams

An answer to my frequent searches

An accidental meet.

The paths haven't separated, they, in unison lie

Then why, behind the bushes, do thee hide?

A Tribute To The Slab Of Wax

Like the flickering soul in a body

Is the flame of the candlelight;

Like the rays of silver in the full moon

Are the rays of hope of the candlelight.

When there forms a curve on the lips

when the eyes twinkle with delight

when stars shimmer along

The candle dances with its flames bright.

Providing magical enchantment into passionate souls

Light to torchbearers and social people galore

It's the trustworthy slab of wax

Lighting up the dark in the voids of hollows.

The selflessness in the yellow solace so sincere

Is later felt with the melting away of its mortality.

WRITING

Just as I thought everything was back on track...Wham!! I was hit by the hard unexpected reality. They say life is unpredictable.. I'd rather modify it to "people" are unpredictable...

Do circumstances change people...??? I was one of those who always thought people change circumstances..come on..it's their life..so they should be well in charge of it!!



I often do this...I take up a blank paper and a pen..and start writing...
writing...nothing specific.. but I like doing it..

somewhere, something about it makes me feel I am secure, guided by someone.. it somehow diminishes the lonliness..



That is exactly what I have done in this post...











There's basically NO connection between the lines in this post... it is as "unpredictable" as "people".... or as "life"...??

What is depression? The discotentment we feel from our lives? The feeling of being abandoned or the feeling of insecurity? Or...all of the above?

What does a person do when in depression? Brood about, stay awake at nights, all the time pose being present though knowing that he actually is absent? abandon himself???

What does a person do to come out of that 'dark phase'? Attend counselling sessions, meet up with psychiatrists, do everything to try hard to ignore that stuck-up feeling?

And what does a person finally do once he's out of his depression? Stay "happy" for a while and then drop back right into the pit and start brooding all over again?

seriously... the world is round..

Of comparisions

When we say that there is stark darkness, we tend to compare it with an earlier phase in which there was brightness all around. What if we had never known the brightness?
Those instances in our life where we are not satisfied with something or embarrased and depressed because of something or someone, are usually because we compare those 'somethings' and 'someones' with either our past, our fantasies or just the 'ideals'.What if we never compared them or had no past, no fantasies, no 'ideals'?? Our mindsets in the same situation would change. Totally.

Reality isn't always bitter. What we think of reality is merely our perception. Imagine, if you never dreamt, let go of the past, and lived your reality, you would never have anything to compare it with and you'd start being content with it.

In most cases, when we find reality harsh, it is beacuse we compare it to our fantasies, our dreams. If we just stopped this comparision, took in every other moment as the new and fresh first moment of our lives, don't you think life would be much more simpler, much more beautiful? Much more spontaneous?

It goes in line with the theories of physics. Like, 'velocity of the body with respect to the earth'...relative velocity.



Let's forget the relations for a moment.

That huge speck of brightness

Here is my postion
I lounge over on the window sill
a cup of warm tea in my hands
late afternoon, in the warm breeze.

The white strands of hair blowing in the wind
is what appears from the top of my tea cup
the dark-yellow speck on the brown surface
a reflection of the late evening sun, down with a slurp.

The white-as-snow newspapers tun all yellow and orange
No, I haven't spilled any thing on them!!
It's that mischievous red show-off
Preparing for a nice nap with his flames.

There returns old and weary mamma chirp,
bringing in all that she could for her kin
It seems they respect that red snob quite much,
for they do all their daily chores with him.

But he's retreating now, retreating to his home,
what would we possibly do without him anymore?
Though its true I was quite irritated by his blinding rays
But he was the one who brought us light during dark days.

But he usually lends some of his light to common friends
so that even in darkness, we shall not bend.
Oh no, he isn't going away forever
He wouldn't leave us; never.

Exploring the subconscious mind

Often such a situation arrives where we just feel like doing something, not caring about the consequences. That might be what they call "listening to thy hearts". Currently, I am going through the same kind of situation, where I feel like typing but what to type is a question mark.

Sometimes, things like these turn interesting. They give us feedbacks, results about our subconscious minds. True. We can try exploring our minds by just pouring out anything and everything that comes to us in numerous ways- in a written format, or just by saying it all aloud. But the difference would be that whatever we express in this manner would not be thought about and then expressed, it would be first expressed and then thought about. So, is it worth a try? Act before you think, lets give it a shot.

The God-like feeling

It was a beautiful sunny day with the winter cold winds blowing. The little leaf-buds and full-grown leaves on the gold-sprinkled trees were swaying in the breeze, enjoying it's cool touch. The little sparrows were chirping and the crows were crowing. Though they might not be humming a tune, they were still sounding musical.

I was sitting on the porch of my balcony in the late-afternoon sun. I saw the birds all gathered on the custard-apple tree opposite my balcony. Then suddenly, an idea struck me. I took the tin containing the bird-food and started sprinkling it down the balcony. Slowly, the birds started fluttering down to the grains and pecking them. It felt so amazing to be able to fill atleast 25-50 stomachs with a single hand. It was somewhat similar to the rain pouring down to please thousands of beings.


I felt like a provider, a giver, a God.

A Plain White Building

I am a plain white building

not a skyscraper high

a little splash, a little dust

can make me dyed.

You can paint me in various colours

yellow, red and blue

hide the white below the layers

but what you see would only be grey hues.

I am a plain white building

wih all windows boarded and broken

there is no exit, there is no enterance;

Unnamed, an anonymous token.

Not a skyscraper high

I can't even see through the fog

There are imprints of clouds and lightening

But no clear blue sky at all.

A little splash, a little dust

can cause my whiteness a stain

Imagine the world of stains I would see

While you enjoy the heavy rains.

I am a plain white building,

And I keep repeating

Among the cloudy greys and bright rays

A decolourized four-walled being.

Me and my thoughts

• The incompetence of the world many a times baffles me..it shows the striking simile between me and the world.
  

• What we see today may not be tomorrow..but if we see it today, we must see it in its complete form.
  

• The rain will keep pouring on the barren land. It will keep lashing on the window sills. It will keep bringing smiles on many faces. It will keep hiding the tears from the valleys and hills.
  

• The wind blows today with an unusual bounce in her ramble. She whispers her laughter into the tears of passers by. She dances along with the nodding blooms and flowing waters. She says 'why fear?' 'just break free and reach the sky.'

• Life is but mere perception... And I see dead people.

• What was and what will be are not part of our speculation. But, what IS, is definitely part of our actions.

• I can be dumb, but on all other ocassions, I prefer being myself and not you.

• Reading minds isn't exactly an easy job... The characters are in Braille and I am not blind.

• The weather is cold. And I'm dripping wet. I need you to hold me in your arms, And provide the warmth of your breath.

• Love is not in the amount of lengthy conversations you have; rather, it is in the amount of things that go unsaid and yet, understood.

THE ROOM

There is a small dark room,
Though provided with windows and doors,
It lies as dark as the night
Not a shadow on the dusty floors


A girl sits inside the room
Her feelings deep into the dark
Just as the surrounding environment
Reluctant to erase the lethal mark


Then one day, a window sees light
The pale golden sunrise on it's panes
And the girl awakes from her slumber
Seeing a new spring after heavy rains


The gold sweeps through her feet,
Her face and her hair,
Then falls upon a mirror
Reflecting an unfamiliar stare


But the gold also disperses
Upon the canvasses of her life
Showing her the masterpieces
Once created by her own smiles


And the girl rises from the floor,
Opens the windows and doors.
Now the same dark room
Appears as a basking golden shore