AND IN THE END IT COMES TO ME....

what am about to write today is a scream from the heart...
not intended to preach anything...to disclose anything...
m writing just because i really feel the need to write it down and let this feeling escape through words..
I need to bee independent...
somehow...its like whenever i do something ,deep inside i need a validation from someone around..
and if i have been sitting oppoite to this girl scribbling this...i would have told her "only practice can help you"
but i get so stressed while proceeding when i know whatever i am doing isnt validated by someone...
and this doesnt happen in things i am really passionate about...
i dont feel like asking anyone before i write a couplet...or acting for sake...
but all this isn't going to let me through and i very well know this...
thats what scares me even more...
the fear of initiating  a task can make me breathless !!
GOD ,bless me with courage to take up new things in stride...!!
i really need this support...

 "   Life..."

Life is nothing more than the press of  PLAY  and STOP...
PLAY and your part begins...lots and lots happens in between this 'play' and 'stop'
the twists, turns,monotony,excitement,infatuation,love,relief,anxiety,pain,tears,laughs...
but then....
IT STOPS...
does not really sound very strange to hear all this...this is ONE TRUTH that we subconciously know ...but amidst the daily clanking of life we become oblivious to this fact...
and this strangeness hits in the face when we lose a closed one...someone we had talked with..
stayed with...laughed with...cried with..had cracked jokes on...had been laughed at by...
All comes to stop.........FULL STOP....
Places,people,things,expressions remind us of this lost somebody in every way possible...
THE TRUTH IS they aren't anymore in physical form...but may be if HE takes inn something...he does give back something for sure..and that is----
memories to be cherished..to let go the pain through tears as you flip the pages of the gone-by's life...
The memories may haunt you or make you realise again that this is the LAW of nature and shall go on....without  A FULLSTOP...
the void can't be filled...infact should not be filled..that is all because of the love u shared with them...
but try making the void graceful...with tears of gratitude...tears of love ...
 not with pain...

" SILENCE ...TO ...SPEECH"

 

Away from the daily clanking of forks,

the thump of rock music, the blare of car horns,

the fluteless rhymes...

the resounding holllow crystal chimes ...

Sat the 'silence' glancing the noises ...

the serenity of this silence was such..

that the quiteness of snow falling over previous icy white spread

could be heard so much..

it's this silence which dropped the chill of breeze to my eardrums...

it's this silence which knocks with the grand roar in the sea shell as a distant echo...

this silence, which bolted in itself the expression of love..

sometimes just by a smooth union of eye lashes

and sometimes by the lift of the eye brow...

yes I am talking of this silence...

it wished to 'handover' itself...

to be a part of a deprived shadow..

yet, who would LOVE THIS SILENCE....

LIVE THIS SILENCE...

AND SOMEDAY INDISPUTABLY 'LOSE' THIS SILENCE...

although a proficient silence has a sway over all speech...

BUT someday this proficient silence has to be unchained...

because that's the moment when

PERSEVERANCE BECOMES PASSION...

THORN BECOMES THRONE..

AND A DILEMMA FLOWERS OUT A PROCLAMATION...

Still sitting in the same corner...

It peeks into the heart of every onlooker...

searching for an apt custodian...

In that grayish night...

and the night lamp's blinding flashy light...

silence holds its throb as a ragged lean catches its eye...

it knew...this was the end oh its search...

he takes the 'silence' by the ocean...

silence calmly sat by his side...

this little silence was the key to his grand jostle within..

And hence he Lets it GO...

into the snarl of that sea...

BY SPEAKING....to THEE..

The flash when all his dugged in thought cloud came out...

as a cry of gratitude..an urge of anger and sometimes a shout

' this silver Silence to the Golden speech' had pulled off its goal...

AND HAD YET AGAIN RELIEVED ANOTHER SOUL...

　

　

　

　

　

　

WALKING ALONG…

WALKING  ALONG…

And yes God is around…

In the beauty of love,

In an unexplained respect…

In the devotion of work

In the heat of defeat…

In the rain of success…

In the toothless grin of a kid…

In the wrinkled skin of my grandma…

In my incapabilities…

In my fight against some,

In my acceptance for few…

In my rare tears, in my heartfelt laughs…

In the pattern on the butterfly…

In the swift of the squirrel…

In the power of  a horse…

In the watery eyes of the bride…

In the last breaths

In love…

He is ‘ALL’

He is in ‘ALL’…

Sometimes the consciousness in you…

Sometimes the advisor in you…

Sometimes the learner…

Sometimes the kid in you

Yes HE  is around and shall always be…

Just  bother to look around…J

‘KNOTS’ AND ‘CROSSES’

‘KNOTS’ AND ‘CROSSES’

The clock is ticking, so Jim goes through the planned work list…

Day begin to Day end, no climax no twist…

Making a mental note of the sequence of tasks..

“You had food”, the only question his family asks…

Utterly tired yet relieved, he finishes his meal…

And next day, God knows how, he brings in the same zeal,

Repeats the cycle again…

While outperforming the herd around…

Sometimes a capability,

Sometimes a ‘flaw’ newly found…

With Life, on the other side, he plays KNOTS AND CROSSES…

Sometimes he shines as an outstanding winner,

Sometimes adding one more to his losses..

Trying to grasp fast…

Trying to perform faster…

He still steals out 10 fantasy minutes anyway…

Every time planning to revive his college interests some day…

BUT THE CLOCK IS TICKING…

Money MATTERS and hence matters of money confine him to his cabin again…

But still he swims through monotony with a smile…

Keys swirling in one finger and the other hand going though a thick file…

Believe me, it’s hard being just an average earner…

It’s hard even after falling, to be a consistent learner…

In game after game, he begins again…

Rarely does he take an unconventional lane..

Sometimes a ‘cross’ of life ends his battles of ‘knots’

Still he doesn’t give up playing his shots…

May be the Jim, we are talking about isn’t a scientist, an industrialist or a ‘Mr. out of the crowd…

But what he is,  makes him No less proud…

YES…average is inn…

Because Never Was It Out…

So If you or me are one of these ‘just on the line’

Even scotch over years turns out better than wine…

Someday we will make our row of KNOTS…

That’s how from this venture of life, we will discover our snapshots…

SOMEDAY SOMEHOW ,WE WILL….

A TRYST WITH PASSION

A TRYST WITH PASSION

I love acting…I love being someone I am not…perhaps being something I may never be…that’s the most glorious part about it…

Harsha Bhogle rightly said that talent takes you from the runway to an inclination…passion lifts your plane to remarkable heights…

Even when m tired to hell…when my throat pains like there are actually some small species inside which is playing with my tonsils…acting gives me energy…an enthusiasm…its that moment that I realize , that giving your life to something so beautiful is “worth it” ,really…I am a sort of person who does get bothered by what people say, not much but also m not a part of that proud crowd which is unmoved by the herd’s opinion but when it comes to this aspect of my life…I m least bothered , really, I feel like giving my best to it, irrespective of whether people around me are doing that or not…I am proud of the fact that I have tasted the recipe’s of passion… sometimes in form of praise, sometimes sheer criticism, sometimes a desire to shut people’s mouth and sometimes just when nothing else made me feel that things are falling into place except the moment when I begin to act and become someone else…I don’t really know how well do I do it or how does it really come out but that’s something that I do sincerely right from the heart and it ought o come nice….

And I hope it does…..

THE ROYAL BLUE….

THE ROYAL BLUE….  

The azure sky was beautiful…

But towards something, as a kid, I was unconsciously dutiful …

Something that made me run all through my lane…

It was the whitish cloud of air, left behind by the plane…

I followed it as long as the sun and baby feet could allow…

I would wave so hard and shout no low…

But never did the pilot wave back…

I felt, must be something I lacked…

I would look at my papa and point finger in the sky…

He got me right and would answer my “why”

He would say, the plane is far too high…

And then giving up, I would take a deep sigh…

As a teenage boy, the passion grew…

What gripped me, was the country’s love

 and the AIR FORCE attire… ‘The royal blue’

I knew for sure, that no dreams stand on shallow thoughts…

Concentrated blood can make nothing better than clots…

What flows with toil will get through…

What emerged from heart has to be brought true…

And since then I was set to be up there…

With patriotism that brings in care…

Controlling the big bird, I saw once…

Like one of my motherland’s responsible sons…

PRESS FORWARD and I bring u back to today…

When me and my big bird are ready to play…

An AIR WAR awaits us…

My Royal Blue hanged in my closet, ready to be worn…

It was 3 am and I was waiting for the dawn…

At sharp 5, I was all dressed…

A single strand of thought flows, nothing messed…

The stars all set on the right shoulder…

I give a fleeting look to my honorary certificates kept in a folder…

A single strand of thought still flows…

Towards my fighter aircraft, the walk is measured and slow…

But an abrupt resistance baffles me…

What is it…?

No, it isn’t a trigger in the body, but a shot in the thought…

Is it a resistance from bravado…?

Or a resistance to kill...

Is it the fear of entering into the coffin or sending someone into it…?

The single strand of thought is no more there…

But somehow i reach the air stair...

Somehow i muster up the courage and take controls...

Explaining thyself that i am not running from my goals..

And hence the revved up engine lifted up the plane...

The opponent’s fighter was radar detected again...

But i did not trigger the missile...

It was a clean shot...

But “i will not kill" took me over in a while... 

I don’t know why but we, I and my fighter trace back the way….

The Royal Blue is back in the hanger, got no role to play…

I sit on the wooden chair…

A tear drops amidst of self glare …

“This rush of insight  has threw me hard..

Does that badges me with ‘traitor’ and not a guard…”

With the study lamp, warming the page, I hold the ink pen again…

To scribble the UNACCOUNTABLE 3 words…

“WHAT WAS IT…?”