For Him...

I love you...

And this one's for making all my dreams come true.

Thank You...

Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song

Come away with me on a bus

Come away where they can't tempt us

With their lies I want to walk with you

On a cloudy day
In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high
So won't you try to come

Come away with me and we'll kiss
On a mountaintop
Come away with me
And I'll never stop loving you

And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I'm safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night
Come away with me.....

" Life’s a weather ”

Autumn leaves all over the road,
Scattered and strewn unevenly,
Talking of the past, the forgotten,
The lies and truths we hate to believe.
Each leaf has its own story,
Each leaf a different shade,
Stories that are meant to be nice memories,
But like nightmares, always remain.

When the wind blows, these leaves fly,
Each bringing back a memory,
And that’s how life swirls itself,
Between nightmares and memories.
Suddenly its spring again,
And hope arises from somewhere,
The swirls clear out in no time,
And sunshine’s back again.

Life begins to feel warm now,
With emotions and feelings felt again,
You begin to re-live and breathe,
With a new goal, a new way.
I often wonder if im like the weather,
Going thru springs and autumns,
Each spring im a new person,
And each autumn an old one is forlorn.

I realize now, im like the autumn leaves,
Getting blown away as a memory or nightmare,
But hope does keep me going,
That someday I might be the spring leaf again.
Someday, someone would wish to keep me,
And see my colours and adore them,
See the various shades that follow,
Every time the sun falls with a different ray.

And that’s how life moves on,
With strength and hope,
Strength to be accepted that you were an autumn leaf once,
And hope that you might be a spring one soon again.

This song's one of my favourite's...sad and depressing...but well its still the best...
"How to save a life" ( The Fray )
Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it’s just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
And you begin to wonder why you came
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you’ve told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you’ve followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he’ll say he’s just not the same
And you’ll begin to wonder why you came
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

I have a dream, a song to sing

To help me cope with anything

If you see the wonder of a fairy tale

You can take the future even if you fail

I believe in angels

Something good in everything I see

I believe in angels

When I know the time is right for me

I'll cross the stream - I have a dream

I have a dream, a fantasy

To help me through reality

And my destination makes it worth the while

Pushing through the darkness still another mile

I believe in angels

Something good in everything I see

I believe in angels

When I know the time is right for me

I'll cross the stream - I have a dream

I'll cross the stream - I have a dream

...This is my song for the New Year 2009...

Here's wishing you all a healthy, peaceful and prosperous New Year.

When i have fears...

When I have fears that I may cease to be,

Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,

Before high-piled books, in charactery,

Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain;

When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,

Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,

And think that I may never live to trace

Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;

And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,

That I shall never look upon thee more,

Never have relish in the faery power

Of unreflecting love;--then on the shore

Of the wide world I stand alone, and think

Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

- John Keats

Across

Across these miles i wish you well,

May nothing haunt your heart but sleep,

May you not sense what i don't tell,

May you not dream, or doubt, or weep.

May what my pen this peaceless day,

Writes on this page not reach your view,

Till its deferred print lets you say,

It speaks to someone else than you.

The magnitude of dreams...

While watching a T.V. show , last night something very interesting crossed my mind and i decided it needed to be blogged about. So, am back with a thought that troubles me.

The show was a family oriented show, which had invited some orphans to be a part of their special episode. During the show, one of the cute little kids was asked what his ambition in life was. And this little thing, all of 5 years and abandoned by his parents because they had no money to raise their 1 yr old child, stand up, holds the mike with his tiny hands and proudly says in his just learnt English " I want to be Post Man".

I have no clue, but when i saw him say that with the widest smile I've ever seen, i cried. Tears rolled down my cheeks at the sheer innocence of this child, who dreams to be a post man some day. Yes, they do say children's ambitions change with the minute when they are small.One minute they want to be a pilot, the next an engineer and sometimes a doctor. But have you, today in the 21st century heard any kid proudly say he wants to be a post man? i havent.

It reminded me of how in the course of life, we forget what our passions are, our beliefs are and our value systems. Why do we fail to understand that we should use our acquired knowledge in the places that require our expertise? Why do MBA graduates end up at call centres? Why do Engineer's end up at an MNC doing administration work? Why do doctors end up being part of huge private hospitals and operating only once a week when they could do better work and fulfilling work in a small clinic or public hospital?

It all boils down to just one thing, materialistic pleasures. Its just money, isn't it? Ive always had this argument, with many people about how i truly believe that even if you lived cosily in a one room flat with the people you love and food to eat and went to a job you truly enjoy, you would be a happier soul rather than the one who lived in a pent house and went to a job he hated but paid excellently.

Why do we end up leading a materialistic life, earning a fat salary, forgetting in bargain, the small pleasures one gets from life? Have you ever sat on the corner of a footpath and had gola? That's what i call pleasure. Yes, i would get the same pleasure at a five star restaurant too. But i as a human being, should have the ability to enjoy both equally. That's what life is about, isn't it? To face whatever comes your way with respect and gratitude.

I always tell my boy friend, how i will be happy wherever we are as long as he is there with me to enjoy those moments. And i truly mean it. Its not that i feel money is nothing. Yes money is important, i know how critical it is to save and plan a secure future and do the right investments and everything. You cant be happy even if you have a job you love, a cosy small flat but no food to eat. So yes, i give the monetary benefits their due importance, but at the same time i think, its not something one should make a goal of their life.

You cant live every day wanting to increase your bank balance and wondering how much money you will make in 5 years. If you live every moment like this, you aren't living. Along the path, because of your one way perspective you miss out so much that you wont realise it, till you are 80 and crippled to a bed, introspecting.

So before, the whole world comes to a point where they talk about rupees and dollars and pounds every day, ill say wake up. Live. Smell the flowers and enjoy a swim. Run if you want and feel the wind. Eat at a bakda and forget the disease.

Live.

Remember it can end any moment.

A thousand splendid suns...

Ive never cried while reading any book before, but this one i did, all through the last 50 pages.
"A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini is a book worth reading for each one of us.
Its a tribute to life, women, struggle, war and belief.

The book has shaken me beyond words. Its impossible to stop reading, once you begin and its impossible to not get involved with the characters, that you sooner or later begin to identify with.

Read this book, id say...it wakes you up to reality.

Ill end this post, with the poem that Saib-e-Tabrizi wrote from where the title of the book has been adopted.

KABUL
(Translated by Dr. Josephine Davis)

Ah! How beautiful is Kabul encircled by her arid mountains
And Rose, of the trails of thorns she envies
Her gusts of powdered soil, slightly sting my eyes
But I love her, for knowing and loving are born of this same dust

My song exhalts her dazzling tulips
And at the beauty of her trees, I blush
How sparkling the water flows from Pul-I-Bastaan!
May Allah protect such beauty from the evil eye of man!

Khizr chose the path to Kabul in order to reach Paradise
For her mountains brought him close to the delights of heaven
From the fort with sprawling walls, A Dragon of protection
Each stone is there more precious than the treasure of Shayagan

Every street of Kabul is enthralling to the eye
Through the bazaars, caravans of Egypt pass
One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs
And the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls

Her laughter of mornings has the gaiety of flowers
Her nights of darkness, the reflections of lustrous hair
Her melodious nightingales, with passion sing their songs
Ardent tunes, as leaves enflamed, cascading from their throats

And I, I sing in the gardens of Jahanara, of Sharbara
And even the trumpets of heaven envy their green pastures...

Afterglow...

This is a song, i just heard yesterday and fell in love with the lyrics..so decided to put it up..

"Afterglow"

Here I am,
Lost in the light of the moon,
That comes through my window.

Bathed in blue,
The walls of my memory divides,
The thorns from the roses.
It's you and the roses.

Touch me and I will follow,
In your afterglow.
Heal me from all this sorrow,
As I let you go.
I will find my way
When I see your eyes,
Now I'm living,
In your afterglow.

Here I am,
Lost in the ashes of time,
But who wants tomorrow,
In between,
Longing to hold you again,
I'm caught in your shadow.
I'm losing control.

My mind drifts away,
We only have today.

'Til the blinding day,
When I see your eyes.

Now I'm living,
In your afterglow [in your afterglow].
When the veils are gone,
As I let you go,
As I let you go

Bathed in blue,
The walls of my memory divides,
The thorns from the roses.
It's you who is closest.

Marbles...

Babs Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a smallboy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr.Miller and the ragged boy next to me.

"Hello Barry, how are you today?"

"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. Sure look good."

"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?"

"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got's my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it."

"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."

"I can see that Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"

"Not zackley. but almost."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next tripthis way let me look at that red marble."

"Sure will Thanks Mr. Miller."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. Witha smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community,all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a greenmarble or an orange one, perhaps."

I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A shorttime later I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering. Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them.

Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and whiteshirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each youngman stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket.

Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes. Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening,she took my hand and led me to the casket. "Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about.They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now,at last,when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they came to pay their debt." "We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest manin Idaho " With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined redmarbles.

Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.

Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments thattake our breath.

Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles..A fresh pot of coffeeyou didn't make yourself. An unexpected phone call from an old friend.Green stoplights on your way to work. The fastest line at the grocerystore. A good sing-along song on the radio. Your keys right where you left them...

Have a nice weekend everyone.

"Richard Cory..."

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
" Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich - yes, richer than a king -
And admirably schooled in every grace;
In fine we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

- Edwin Arlington Robinson -
" The Children Of The Night "

A new beginning...

I havent blogged in a while now. I don’t know why. Everytime I sat down to write something, it just never materialised into anything that id think was worth sharing on this blog. I contemplated if I should indeed delete the blog, maybe. But again, the thought passed away. I wonder why I wasn’t writing.
Maybe, I had too many things on my mind. Maybe I was fed up of the games my mind was playing with me. Maybe I was just plain bored. Lots of may be’s and no answers whatsoever.
But today I write, to make a beginning again. To start to blog cause I enjoy it. To say whats on my mind and to do what my mind says.
I wonder again, have I lost my creative ability to write after all?
Wonder. Thoughts. Baseless arguments in a mind of their own.
Hence I write. To let the words flow once again, to let me be me again.
Would like to end with a few lines of this poem I once read…

“The More Loving One”
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

W. H. Auden

Ironic

An old man turned ninety-eight

He won the lottery and died the next day

It's a black fly in your Chardonnay

It's a death row pardon two minutes too late

Isn't it ironic ... don't you think

It's like rain on your wedding day

It's a free ride when you've already paid

It's the good advice that you just didn't take

Who would've thought ... it figures

Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly

He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids good-bye

He waited his whole damn life to take that flight

And as the plane crashed down he thought 'Well isn't this nice...'

And isn't it ironic ... don't you think

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you

When you think everything's okay and everything's going right

And life has a funny way of helping you out when

You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up

In your face

It's a traffic jam when you're already late

It's a no-smoking sign on your cigarette break

It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife

It's meeting the man of my dreams

And then meeting his beautiful wife

And isn't it ironic... don't you think

Ha Ha Ha!!!

Love this one.

Made my day!!ha ha ha:)

Have a great week everyone.

Keep Smiling:)

I'll miss you Curly...

This day will always be marked in my diary onwards. 18th november 2006, is the day I give up my cat, who ive had for the past four years since 23rd october 2002.

I went to the shelter I had adopted him from 4 years back and the lady there has agreed to have him back. Im really grateful she agreed, cause I truly think that’s where Curly belongs. But yes, last night when I held him close and realised it’s the last night ill spend with him, it kicked me hard. The loss of a pet can be very overwhelming. And extremely hard to get over.
Ive had the best moments with him. I hugged him and cried when I lost my grandad and hugged him and smiled all day when I got my bachelor results. His meow will be missed terribly.Ill miss the paw fights we have and ill miss him come sit over my books every time I sit to study. Ill miss him being possesive about me and making sure that every night before I went to bed, he would come and sit in my lap for a while. We shared the best relationship and the bond we shared is going to last with me for the rest of my life.

Im sad I have to give him up. Ill miss you Curly.

Moving In...

The curtains are down, the posters all packed, clothes put into a suitcase and the computer dismantled, all ready to be shifted. Yes, after 6 years of living in a different flat, I moved in with my parents a floor above than the flat before. I lived in that flat for 5 years with my Grandad and for the past year with my sister till she got married and then my cousin since june 06.
And today as I sit and write this in my new room, it feels different. There is no Anne Geddes poster above my computer nor is there my cat who sat on my lap everytime I blogged. Things change and im trying to get myself to accept this change.
A week back we decided to give the house on rent and hence I had to move in with my parents, back into my old room which has memories of my sister and I all through our childhood and how ever good it feels to be back here, it hurts much more to leave all the other memories back in that house.

Memories of my grandad and the long afternoons I spent laying on his lap on the diwan. The pet crow who always came to my window at 7 am and cawed as if there was no tomorrow. The warli painting my best friend and I painted on my pelmet in blue and even the old fashioned godrej coupboard which stored my clothes. The kitchen where I spent nights studying on the folding table and all the posters that my sister and I had stuck on the wall to make it more colourful. Most im sure ill miss my planetarium. Yes, I call it my planetarium cause my ceiling was full of stars, comets, moons(yes, moons with an ‘s’, I had 5 moons) and even rockets. My cousin had helped me stick them up and even they will go, once the house is re-painted.

Ill miss the sun shining on my face first thing in the morning and ill miss wandering through that house in the middle of the night, still feeling like my grandad was around. It is painful to leave all those moments that he and I had together in that house. Feels like im letting him go, losing him somewhere. Memories of friends sitting and talking till early morn, making chips in the middle of the night and calling out to my close friend who lives directly opposite that window will be left behind.

Its strange, how in 6 years those 4 walls can become your entire life. I could walk through that house blindfolded and find my way perfectly. Ive lived all my life before these 6 years in this house, but the last 6 years have been very important for me, so maybe those memories seem more painful. And even though I lived down, I could always come up but now I cant go down and walk through the walls as if they are mine. They are going to be someone elses and soon will be life for them too.

It was very difficult to see the walls empty and the rooms so bare and hear my voice echo, but I have to move on. Leave memories behind in a treasure box and form new memories now. This room will now be my cave. Where new memories will form ; where life will take a new turn, yet again.

I think the most hurtful thing is that I have to give up my cat. My dads asthamatic hence I cant get him upstairs. The new tenants don’t want a cat. Asked everywhere, noone wants to adopt. I have time till Sunday and I still don’t know what to do. I don’t know how ill survive without him. Even when I sleep up now, and he wanders through that empty house mrowing, my heart aches. Ive had him 4 years now and im so addicted to him waking me up with his wet cold nose on my warm nose, that even waking up in my new room isnt the same anymore. Can anyone help? I checked with spca, ida and all the other possible options, no solution yet.

Life’s hard sometimes, and it surely isnt easy to give up a pet you’ve loved so much. But, that’s change again and I have to get through it. Just don’t know how. But yes, whatever happens, happens for the good is something ive always believed in. I will get more time to spend with my other grandad and my parents now. I can cook more often, which I love and the kitchen here is much bigger and well equipped than downstairs. I can be around to help my ma and always be there to have the evening tea which my grandad loves having with me.Just have to find a good family for my cat first, maybe then ill feel better.
As I finish this post, theres only one thing that I can think of and its what Bob Dylan said….

““Take care of all your memories. For you cannot relive them.”..

He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven...

"He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven"

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread upon my dreams.
- W.B.Yeats

A very close friend of mine gifted me this poem a few days back. Written beautifully on blue recycled paper, its the best gift ive ever recieved so far. Thankyou to you who made me smile...:)

Random Thoughts...

Broken glass pieces,
Shattered window panes,
Petals of red roses,
And an empty lane.

Dreams not fulfilled,
Stars not reached,
The still water,
And thoughts running deep.

Lonely nights,
Lunches with yourself,
Incomplete relationships,
Dusty books on the shelf.

All signs of destiny,
Fate and loss,
Dreams unseen
And the haunting past.

Letting Go...

I cleaned my Granddad’s cupboards today. After exactly 10 months and 20 days I took the courage and cleaned it all up. All the clothes we had shopped together, his shoes we bought at Bata and his formal pants which he always marked with a black cross so they wouldn’t get mixed up with anyone else’s clothes.

It wasn’t easy at all. I cried all the way through that cleaning. When I threw his favourite old leather bag and held his favourite shirt against me, I still smelt him. His smell, so peculiar to my nose that I could recognize it in my dreams as well. His favourite socks, which he so religiously wore. His handkerchiefs that he never forgot to carry cause id always ask for one. It was so difficult to let go off those things; it felt like I was letting him go away from my life.

Then, I realized nothing could separate me from him and his memories. All these materialistic things were just proofs of his existence but his memories and his voice and his touch will always remain with me. They would be inseparable. His handwriting on the piece of paper saying “please call my grand daughter namrata” will always remain with me, making me realize that he’s here, always. By my side.
I miss him so much today. I so wish he was here.
Its never easy to let go of something you've loved so much..is it? I so hate let going..isn't it possible to deal with it in another way?..:(

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

The Rains...

It’s Raining!
The rains are here again. I love this season. The greenness of the leaves, the dew on every petal, the koyal singing early in the morning…it’s beautiful. I was lucky to not have had any bad memories with the rains last year. Of course, my mom, sister & dad were all stranded but all returned home safe. My family was fine.
But today, as I sat in my big window and smiled at the smell of the mud and the high it gave me, I wondered how many other people must be sitting at their windows and smiling?
At least a thousand people in Mumbai are going to hate the rains this year. Are going to be mortally afraid of it. They all lost at least one loved one to the rains last year. Do they smell the mud we smell? Do they love the freshness as we do? Do they feel as cool and calm as we do? I wonder. It must remind them of the loss they faced last year.

The death, the trauma and the grief each one of them suffered. Will the rains ever be a happy memory for them ever again?It’s when I think of such people, that my smile fades away and all I can do is just say thank you to whoever it is up there who made sure, id have a happy memory of the rain for this year too...