[Untitled]

For her self pride and a bit of dignity,
she refuses to let her emotions flow.
But deep down, she only cries
for she is afraid to let go.
There are moments and memories
that shroud the pain and the sorrow.
And only to reclaim what is seemingly lost
she refuses to let go.

She dons that dress over and over,
fixes her hair just right,
loose, over one shoulder it spreads,
and not in a ponytail tight.
For that's how she remembers him liking it
and that's all the love he had to show
and for that love, just that much
she refuses to let go.

One day he remarked on the colour he liked.
Even though he in passing did so,
she holds that colour dear to her heart
and uses it more than before.
 For she loved to see his face light up
Every time in her outfit the colour did show
for that ounce of rather casual love
she dared not let go.

She knows they are bound on separate roads
And to her reach his love will not grow
The pain has not wholly sunk in
Her realisation is rather slow
But for the times they shared, for the little that he cared
and for the fact that he always let her know,
she'll hold onto the friend she's bound to lose
and she'd rather no let go.

[Title suggestions welcome]

Fear Of The End

[This is rather long, so please bear with me. If you're tagged, you're meant to read this. If you're not tagged and you've read this, know that the fact that its as public as it is on facebook, you mean something to me and hence you can read it for yourself too. love =) ]

Much has gone down over the last few years. Life, death, and a lot in between. And this very "eventful" last year has left me with a niggling fear instead of a glowing hope. The fear of death.

A couple of my friends know about this, because they're the friends I'm scared to lose. The fact that I've decided to put this out in cyberspace is possibly the most vulnerable I've ever been in my writing. And this decision arises plainly out of the basic premise of my fear.

"And if your plane fell out of the skies, who would you call with your last goodbye?" These lyrics by The Script are what started it a couple of years ago. No, it didn't scare me shitless about flights but it scared me down to my core about dying an untimely death. And this is my major fear - the fear of dying most unexpectedly. A lot of movies supported this. A lot of books added to it. A lot of real life made it concrete - anything can happen and it'll happen when I'm least ready for it.

I live away from my home now. I only go back once in 2 or 3 months and stay only for about 2 weeks at the max. When I'm away from them my only scare is whether I told thme emough that I love them? Did I fight with them too much? Did I make the most of the time I had? And what if I don't survive by the time its time again to meet them?

When I'm with my friends who, like me, are away to study, hugs get a few seconds longer, togetherness becomes paramount and I don't even mind travelling for a whole day just to see 5 people for 25 minutes. But every time I leave, I look back to see them one more time because that may be the only time I may ever get. Maybe one more memory will be made that I'll never get to share.

My street play director, Devika, says "Make memories guys! I'm going to pass out!" We may just meet after she graduates but this also might be the only time we get to know each other, or for that matter, everyone else on the street play cast. All my classmates, especially Adrita, Turni, Yashaswini, Nishtha, Aashita, Chiara, Pallavi and my hostel friends, Avanika, Arpita, Moitryee, Vrinda, Prashanti, Sareba, Roshini, Anagha, Tanya, and my friends in the other section, Raksha, Arunima, and other courses of the college, and almost about everyone else. I may not meet them again because I'll be gone one fine day. My teachers, from nursery to college, from Bangalore to Bombay to Delhi. My seniors. My juniors. The support staff at every institution I've been to. I've entered so many domains that I'm lucky to have seen in such a short time, but instead of being just plain thankful, I'm only fearinga  death that is knocking on my mind's door.

I think of people who've touched my life. Ateev, Aeiman, Karan, Aditi, Parth, Tejaswini, Malvika, Tarika, Tanushree, Mugdha, Megha, Bubla, Bhargavi, Vikrant, Ajit, Sach, Archit, Ruchira, Dhrupad, Kritank, Shrey, Rushil, Deepika, Jade Miss, Sultan sir, Jayshree ma'am, and a couple of people from the list above. I think of the fall outs I've had with some of them that have ended the short stints of our friendships. I am saddened by that because I will have died not having fixed something that was ruined. I think of some of the best memories I've shared with any one and everyone of them. I want to just tell them that I love them and care for them with all my heart and I wish them well with their long and fulfilling lives. I revere and respect some of them and all of them on various levels. I'm glad that I could feature in their lives and they could make up huge chapters in mine. If this is the last thing I ever write of such a nature, I hope they'll all read it and know just how much I thank them for their contributions to my life.

And then, finally, I think of my writing. I've shared quite a bit of what I've written and I've poured my heart out [evidently]. Some of it is still undiscovered. I wish I could write more and as much as I can before I die. Its equitable to the amount of love I still have to give. I wish I could just give it all in one shot, but that takes time. I wish for my epitaph to read, "The best never came." Not arrogantly, but apologetically so, because no matter how open-headed I am when it comes to expression, I can never fully give every inch of my being and my thinking. 

At the end of it all, if I go tomorrow, I'm just glad I could get this out today. And if I don't, I'll read this everyday till the end comes and answers my fears as positively as can be. This piece was not written to garner any kind of sympathy or any consolation, or seek any sort of attention. This is just me, holding up my biggest fear in front of me and hoping to do everything I can before it gets to me.

Weird World

My friend's status read "its you against the world and all of its weird ways. Always." Not only did his words ring true with each syllable i read but it reminded me of all the weirdness in my world. A lot of it is secret, some of it is not worth discussing and all of it is thought provoking. Not all weirdness is cherishable. I can look back fondly at classroom jokes and random dancing on the lamest song possible and smile. Some of my friends are the kings and queens of weird and their quirks crack me up and make me miss them at every random instance. But some things don't quite click. Some weird things only irk and bother me. And for those i am sad. I mourn the loss of the frivolous and innocent notions of weirdness.

There are people who will tell you that more often than not, action and intention are separate entities. They are meant to be treated and understood independent of each other. But when it comes to the weirdness of the world we live in, or the world we create for ourselves, action and intention are merged. You can never tell them apart. It'll tear you up trying to make the distinctions but you'd rather lose your sanity than lose your joy trying to set apart two things that were one to begin with. You want to find the good in it. You can't. You want to stake claims, blame who's wrong and preserve what's right. But what is it worth in the end? You against the world is still the equation. No possible addition, deletion, exemption or redemption can change that. Its you. On your own. Its never pretty. Never easy. But you'd rather be that than be the weirdness that can change all equations and reduce you to a delirium that is unending. 

My friend is right. This is always.


=D

Science or Faith

Try every permutation
Or combination you've been taught,
or that you have in mind,
Till the problem solving
renders you blind.
But you won't succeed.
Your love is driven by greed.
Or so you've been told.

Balance each equation
Till it sears you through.
Check every fraction and
reaction that controls you.
You still won't find the peace you crave.
Your books render you naive.
Or so you've been told.

Push and pull with each machine
but gravity will thrust your love to the floor.
You cannot stand it any more.
But for all your faith in action,
and opposites and attractions,
Keep your faith intact
till you ram into closed doors,
only to be told,
You were warned before.

Getting Personal...

I haven't posted in a while. And I miss being able to write the quantity I used to. But interestingly, its not how much I've managed to churn out over the last couple of months, its about the amount I want to share.

I've become an increasingly private person when it comes to my work. I've written tonnes in my diaries, on my phone, for random projects, during class. But more often than not, I'm not immediately jumping to type out my thoughts and poetry into the blogpost editor and publish for the eyes of the world to scan it.

Understood that this is my world of people that will see my work, and appreciate it or critically analyze it and tell me how to get better. Understood that I've got nothing holding me back and nothing to have ever stopped me or deter me from openly revealing what's in my head. But I guess I've also understood that some thoughts, when expressed, automatically come with lines drawn around them. Not every impulse is a no-holds-barred kind. I've begun to maintain restraint. Even in the amount I think of something to write about.

Maybe everything needn't be explicit. Maybe it all doesn't need to be in verse form. Maybe I don't need to question why I haven't told anyone what I'm thinking. Maybe the impact that songs and movies have on me every single day doesn't need to impact 10 other people. And maybe I'm actually alright with it being this way. I'm ok with not thinking and not channelizing thought to have it published. But I know for a fact that its all still there, that I haven't lost any will to write even today, despite work or life or anything. And I know that you, out there, whoever you are - friend, family, well wisher, random person - are maybe going to read it still, just to see if your faith still aligns with mine. And after this, I sure hope it still does.

=D

-Untitled-

Not every road leads me to an end.

Not all means are justified.

Stuck as I am, still walking on a track

with every step undefined.

Do I count my moves as I make them

Or leave a trail of crumbs behind?

Need I let myself come back to

The starting point, or walk forward, determined?

Grasping on straws that strengthen me

But letting tough ropes split my skin

Yearning to be boundless, free,

Screaming from within.

Do I choose what I can

or choose what I must do?

Either may work, but in this life

the only way out is through...

Clarity...

When one goes to get themselves a pair of spectacles, the eye-test consists of lens combinations being changed around depending how clear you can see out of them. Wipers on a windscreen of a car only exist so that when it rains, you can wipe off the distracting droplets and clearly see the road ahead. Concepts aren't understood unless they're crystal clear. Where, I ask, does this lead us? It only leads me to believe that unless and until something doesn't have a certain amount of clarity, it doesn't work for us.

In viewing how clarity makes us more comfortable with the new adjustment we have to make, the concept of clarity is actually, in my understanding, the basis of all human relationships. Unless we're clear about the relationship and what it means to us, we cannot develop the right degree of trust, love, understanding and sacrifice. If I am unclear about where I stand in any bond, I'm not going to be able to do full justice to it or even take it forward from where it is.

Between friends, clarity is what can make them stronger and more together. Between parent and child, the clarity brings them both round to each other's point of view, which is needed because misunderstandings there cause only hurt, and no happiness. Between siblings, its important to be clear about how they are with each other. The reason why my brother and I are as together as we are or understand each other the way we do, is because we both are equally sure of where we stand in each other's lives. Sure we have our altercations, but those also are not without the understanding of where the other person comes from.

Between those in love, it is perhaps the most important thing. I cannot sustain a relationship that is not clearly defined for me. Not saying that everything needs to have boundaries, or demarcations, but everything does need to be clear. It needs to be all there, or not at all. I've had to be in situations where because I wasn't clear in my head about where I wanted to be, the other person and I suffered the consequences because we were not clear about what we wanted, and hence couldn't be fully honest with each other.

A few years after that incident happened [details of which are unimportant], fate played a funny trick and I was in the same situation again. Amazingly enough, I learned that unless I came clean and clearly explained everything that was in my head and heart, I wouldn't get an honest response on the other end. And I did, because I was clear about where I was going which generated a level of trust and acceptance. And I'm glad that it happened the way it did because despite the hurt, I know that I'm not hanging in mid-air, in limbo, without reason enough to believe in any side of the story.

At the end of the day, it is only fair to someone that you are completely clear about your stance. Not stubborn, but clear. Only if someone else can understand your point, can feel what you do, and can see what you see, will they be able to reciprocate. Remember, unless you see the picture clearly, the glasses just aren't right.

=D