Breakfast is good in a rush.... Lunch is great with friends, the work gives much needed companionship till the fall of night... finally I head for home... home? isn't that where my heart is?
As I move closer, I feel the dark shadows of loneliness close over me, I try to slow it's approach, to shine a light into it by being cheerful..... the enemy is smart, it knows to start with the heart. It's grip inside my chest slowly drains the last of my smile as I wearily plugin my key to the luxurious place my company gave me. I close the door every night into a world of silence barely broken by the blaring TV, of cold barely warmed up by the climate control, of loneliness.... frightening loneliness, the feeling of being alone in a city of 5 million... yet I am relieved.... I experience peace as I never had before...
Curling into the bosom of the very enemy who scared me minutes ago, I eat my lonely dinner knowing it wont be interrupted... my scars have started to heal... like preferring instant death to prolonged suffering, I give a sigh of relief and go to sleep peacefully with the enemy.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Biker poem: moved from my orkut page
the heart which once flew free on two wheels...
can never stay caged, caged in a cage....
come sunrise, another dreary day
to work, from cage to cage in cage
sad is a biker minus his steed
the busy world pays no heed
no sunshine on chrome, so hard to rise
technology makes man pay its price
ridden by mind, what the heart once rode
driven by business, what passion once drove
one touch start, cruise control
auto gears and power to steer
detached from road, the heart thumps
unlike yore, alone it thumps
learning to love his gilded cage
his new steed, trusty though plain
she keeps him warm rain or shine
takes him there, minus the vibes
mind over matter says convention
the coming of age took out rebellion
the rebel has had his hair cut
his beard shaved for the corporate touch
that stays the same.. so unchanged
the heart which once flew free on two wheels
can never stay caged, caged in a cage
but it is.. :(
can never stay caged, caged in a cage....
come sunrise, another dreary day
to work, from cage to cage in cage
sad is a biker minus his steed
the busy world pays no heed
no sunshine on chrome, so hard to rise
technology makes man pay its price
ridden by mind, what the heart once rode
driven by business, what passion once drove
one touch start, cruise control
auto gears and power to steer
detached from road, the heart thumps
unlike yore, alone it thumps
learning to love his gilded cage
his new steed, trusty though plain
she keeps him warm rain or shine
takes him there, minus the vibes
mind over matter says convention
the coming of age took out rebellion
the rebel has had his hair cut
his beard shaved for the corporate touch
that stays the same.. so unchanged
the heart which once flew free on two wheels
can never stay caged, caged in a cage
but it is.. :(
Sunday, April 5, 2009
What will I haunt?
Watching "Casper" on TV ignited a thought... If I were to die today and was left around as a ghost, what would I haunt?
Death was something I used to fear, never for myself but for people I loved... but putting myself there was a new feeling. As Casper sat on his toy train and it went around bearing his ghostly form, I couldn't help but wonder, what I would end up haunting.
My bullet of course would be my first choice to haunt, for all I know, It may even resurrect me. Those thumps make the heart feel like beating. For the ghost with no revenge, the objects for haunting should logically be those that gave it pleasure during it's life.
In that case I'd be haunting some poor soul's pack of Marlboro lights, I hope ghosts can inhale, if not, Metro 4 smoking area would be the haunt, to listen to friends talking, having a passive puff from them.
Maybe being an IT worker's ghost, I will be able to haunt my favorite chatroom, the place were a lot of friends were made and a lot of lessons were learnt.
Finally, rather than haunt, I would like to just sit on the cliff near my secret beach on CA - 1, for sure with many others just like me and fly off into the moon reflected over the calm pacific. Aah... maybe that's just the sweetest end to life.
Death was something I used to fear, never for myself but for people I loved... but putting myself there was a new feeling. As Casper sat on his toy train and it went around bearing his ghostly form, I couldn't help but wonder, what I would end up haunting.
My bullet of course would be my first choice to haunt, for all I know, It may even resurrect me. Those thumps make the heart feel like beating. For the ghost with no revenge, the objects for haunting should logically be those that gave it pleasure during it's life.
In that case I'd be haunting some poor soul's pack of Marlboro lights, I hope ghosts can inhale, if not, Metro 4 smoking area would be the haunt, to listen to friends talking, having a passive puff from them.
Maybe being an IT worker's ghost, I will be able to haunt my favorite chatroom, the place were a lot of friends were made and a lot of lessons were learnt.
Finally, rather than haunt, I would like to just sit on the cliff near my secret beach on CA - 1, for sure with many others just like me and fly off into the moon reflected over the calm pacific. Aah... maybe that's just the sweetest end to life.
Starting to dream again
Long time since I wrote anything, since I felt like writing anything... and yet, as I leaned on my car enjoying my last cigarette of the day, worrying just a little about the pinch of extra CO I gifted to the planet for selfish motives, I looked at the night sky and felt a jolt. After long years of being obnoxiously full of human thoughts, the mind raced back to the insignificance of life. The cool breeze was taking my worries away.
For the first time in years, I spent 30 minutes alone outdoors (without even feeling a pang to light up) and wondered, just wondered, looked at the night sky and thought of the night sky back home, back then, thinking of how I used to lie flat on my terrace watching the moon. This was much before life hit me, much before career worries, relationships or puberty happened, much before I had my first drink, much before I drove for the first time.
Back then, I never wondered what I'd become, thoughts during those periods of solitary meditation was just about the world, the fireflies, the bats, the stars and the moon. Deja Vu.... I suddenly saw a part of me who went away years ago... felt like meeting an old friend...., nope it was meeting an old friend, who took my hand and showed me how to wonder again, to count how many points were on the fallen leaf, to notice that the owl watching us can turn it's face all the way to the back, and that a bat looks just like a rat with wings. I felt a weight being lifted off my heart and happiness filling the void it left behind. I started having a conversation my friend, just as I would with my conscience as a kid.
Suddenly I felt a small hand in my palm and my friend turned to me and called me by a name I've never been called before... "DADDY....."!!!
I am a believer in childhood again, and as I dream, I write....
For the first time in years, I spent 30 minutes alone outdoors (without even feeling a pang to light up) and wondered, just wondered, looked at the night sky and thought of the night sky back home, back then, thinking of how I used to lie flat on my terrace watching the moon. This was much before life hit me, much before career worries, relationships or puberty happened, much before I had my first drink, much before I drove for the first time.
Back then, I never wondered what I'd become, thoughts during those periods of solitary meditation was just about the world, the fireflies, the bats, the stars and the moon. Deja Vu.... I suddenly saw a part of me who went away years ago... felt like meeting an old friend...., nope it was meeting an old friend, who took my hand and showed me how to wonder again, to count how many points were on the fallen leaf, to notice that the owl watching us can turn it's face all the way to the back, and that a bat looks just like a rat with wings. I felt a weight being lifted off my heart and happiness filling the void it left behind. I started having a conversation my friend, just as I would with my conscience as a kid.
Suddenly I felt a small hand in my palm and my friend turned to me and called me by a name I've never been called before... "DADDY....."!!!
I am a believer in childhood again, and as I dream, I write....
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