Only with stardust and rainbows

In myth-making times

With dreams on wet eyelashes

And broken-hearted rhymes

Free-flowing words

That empty this soul

Disjointed moments

That leave a yearning hole

But none of that, my dear

For I carry you along

In bookmarked memories

And a fraction of a song

A You

I dressed myself

And smiled a smile

I got myself a heart

Though for a little while

I stood in pride

And drank my tears

I learnt new songs

To please your ears

I let me dream

And stabbed my bleeding senses

I gave my spirit away

For you didn’t like its face

You were never untrue

Even with your casual lies

You showed your true self

For you felt no reason to hide

You were everything and more to me

If Only, I had drawn you differently

Little girl Lucy

                                               Little girl Lucy

                                               Let me look into her heart today

                                               Page by page.

                                               Little girl Lucy

                                               Wants to be my friend

                                               She said.

                                               Little girl Lucy

                                               With her big black eyes

                                               Begged me not to hurt her.

                                               Little girl Lucy and I

                                               May never be best friends

                                               But it doesn't matter.
                                               
                                               Little girl Lucy 

                                               Will always be

                                               The reason for these words.

                                                                                                                             

Painting by Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff

Orange


A flash of orange...eewww...not my colour..
I saw you...speak think...breathe..
The wind did the trick.. in my thoughts...in your hair...on my face
Or was it the darkness
Which marked our closeness
It dreamt of stories... it reeked of nonsense


White...so fair and blue...so blue
A conversation pregnant with hope
A conversation in my mind
And an evening with words and coffee beans
And those with the moon behind your back
It envisioned tales and left them to die


An occasional smile...
Tides and time moving, ticking or whatever it is they do
A happy feeling deep within
No rush, no blush, no more the sighs
Just a pretty page now that made some difference
I now like orange.

These moments, my dear

Ok here is something ...it is blah according to Madhura's definition and hence it finds a place here. Written on one out of the ordinary day for one out of the ordinary person:

An empty page is all I see

Creased with the marks of effort

No words adorn this page yet

No words have yet come to me

The empty page, is still to me so dear

It flashes with memories of you and me

Glazed, glowing the sepia tones

Appear. Disappear.

But every image speaks to me.

The page in which there is nothing to see

Speaks to me

Of a child, a boy, a man I have known

With heart full of love, a gift for me

A warmth that is the aura around my being

A spirit that binds me and makes me free

A laughter that mirrors innocent feeling

A smile that has always been my reason for living.

The images fall silent

Heard. Unheard

But they can’t say no more

For they lack the language

To express my soul.

With every breath, new images form

It intoxicates me with dreams happy and warm

Intangible as they are. Memory-filled images

Play with me and my mind

I find, they fade, I seek, they hide

Words don’t adorn this page yet

The words of gratitude fail to form

The way I wished. They seem inadequate

‘The moments’ says my heart to me

‘Mean more than these words can state’.

I look at you, now gently asleep

Next to me

A sigh of a million moments

Fills me within

A deep love I have known

In me a deep faith does reside

As on my cheek

A smile and a tear collide.

A Note:

Ok. Screw all promises and resolutions. I agree I have not been blogging regularly( and I am not ashamed, life's busy...and the brain's empty). 

But now, to more important things.....Parents are here...visiting, pampering and making my house a home. The two people in the world you can always take for granted...the two people who you know will never say NO....and the two people with whom at some point and time in life you have had a love-hate relationship.

It's strange how we experience different relationships with these two people- you are first their child, then their friend(of course many don't know what that's like and it is indeed....sad) and strangely enough, later in life, a parent(yes when your parents return to their second childhood, it is often like that). And, again, strangely enough all these roles are worth it.....

So, anyway, parents are here...the house feels warmer, the food IS better and yours truly does not need to be responsible for 10 days. The home is filled with loud cheer, long hugs, soft giggles, music, pitter, patter and thump, thump of feet and a general YAY attitude...

Now all of us who have tasted life in a different city, start feeling a little shifty and restless when asked to spend more than a certain period of time with parents...the taste of independence does that to us. Parents, are thus taken more for granted..... It seems cooler to say "I like living alone" and all the hurt that the parent generation feels is shoved gently under layers of "Well, we are happy for you...you are all so-grown up and responsible".

But dear parents.....we(as the generic children class) are idiots most of the time. We live alone and put up a brave front, only to be able to cope....we claim to love independence, only to console ourselves of all the things we feel deprived of and we do complain about you, only because that's what children do...

But we love you more than you will ever ever imagine and the only thing we want to really do is to run home and live off your money....and stretch our  childhood days to eternity. 

Yet we will still be living alone as pretending adults and still be managing in our incomplete ways...because you have taught us well and well....that's what we( the generic class of children) do.

"God's in his Heaven and all is right with the World"

"God's in his Heaven and all is right with the World"

It's a time to spread good cheer and festive joy.....to wish a toothless face and a homeless man "A very Merry Christmas", although the greetings that the season will bring to him might not be more than a cold bun.
It's a time to go back home even though for most the home might just be a corner of a street and not the place where the "hearth" is.
It's a time for greens and reds....even though for most the only green that they would like to see are green notes and the only red they get to see is war induced.
It's a time to return to childhood, although for most the only childhood they would like to go back to would have to be in another lifetime.
It's a time for reminiscence, even though what we would really like is an eraser to wipe of all memories and start anew.
Its a season of white, even though some people have forgotten what other colours look like as white is all they see.
Yet it's that time of the year....
The time when even the toothless man will grin; when even the corner of the street feels cozy; when green and red mean more than money and blood; when white seems too colourful;when no matter what the memories and no matter how the childhood, at least one moment of it is worth reminiscing about.

So what happens really...?
Is it because long long ago a God-like child was born among cows and sheep? Nah!!
Is it because at this time of the year some children are made to live in a world that revolves around the belly of a white bearded man?
Or is it because no matter how the year may have been, we are happy that it is ending soon and we hope that it is somehow better in the next?

No matter what the reason...it is that time of the year...the time when whether or not God is in his Heaven and whether or not the turkey is in the oven....Something does seem to be right about this "stinking world".

[This is a conversation. The setting is the road. The conversation takes place between two people- a mind-vacant human, we shall call him, man(how original) and another man-like-creature, we can call him Monsieur Mort, or whatever the hell you want to call him]

Man:Give me a second. Can't you wait a little?

M.M: Na! I can't. You got your second. You thought you were very smart...turns out I can outsmart you.

Man: But...but....but...but but but...

M.M: (Exasperated) Look, you are the 156735290384th one today....so cut out the buts and make my life a little simple.

Man: Do you know how to rewind time? I mean this time, I won't hit the divider...I'll swerve around it...

M.M: Last time you had thought you'd swerve around it....why didn't you?

Man: I usually can...but today..I don't know really...i think it was the street light...flashed right into my eyes...

M.M: Ya right...that lone street light that was working....[pacing up and down]

Man: Ok, well maybe it was a car or something that came from the left...

M.M: Was it? Really? Now let's see? [Plays a video clip on his ipod]...Now , there, you seem to be quite alone, don't you?

Man: Uh...uh...uh...uh...umm..uh...

M.M: Yes?

Man: ...................

M.M: I'll tell you....It's all quite common really...you had a peg too many...and that weird thing Humans have made...(possibly the only good thing) Ah! yes, helmet, isn't it....you refused to wear one.

Man: ..................

M.M: Well, ok enough chit chatting...I have other things to do, so hurry....

Man: You seem to have so much in your control...why, why can't you just do something , you know? Some magic, some trick, something to keep me here... I promise I won't do it again....Never, ever again.

M.M: Well child, stop harassing me now...I did what I could...I was sitting on that stone wall and listening...you told yourself it would take you one second to swerve and I gave you that second...but you took two....you see, child, I usually mean what I say and I thought you did too...Now I know that in your world, 'one second' means 'two or more', 'a sorry' means 'I don't give a shit' and 'I promise' means 'let me off the hook somehow'. But you'll learn soon. Now, come on, silly thing...I just lost out on an in between snack because of this question-answer session....

Man: No I'm telling you, it was not the helmet, the pegs or ummm ok, not even the light....it was...it was...I was mind-vacant.

M.M: Mind-vacant...what the hell is that?

Man: You know....I wasn't thinking.

M.M: What shit...that brain thing that you have up there is always thinking...it's not programmed to stop..

Man:............Nah, I mean I was fuzzled

M.M: Ya, I'm sure...

Man: No really....Listen to my reason...listen

M.M: [Fading out] Walk while you talk child, walk while you talk...

Man: [walking] Ya see, I'll tell you what exactly happened....[Fade].

The emperor (needs) new clothes???

"To blah is to set aside a part of me...covered in a mirage ....a part that actually exists but physically doesn't" said a friend to me. Wondering how she knew that, I realized it was because all our thought clouds are made of blahs. It is not an escape but an easy exit to think all the thoughts that would otherwise need a justification and evoke a judgment.

We all blah blah all the time, it is only when they seem adorned in civilized finery do we express them in front of others. But, a naive question here, if all of us blah blah then why can't we tell each other? After all your blah and my blah might be similar, and who knows they might not need a gentleman's clothing to be presented in front of the world.

The "naked truth" they say is ugly. But perhaps if we stop focusing so much on its nakedness and instead focus on the noun that accompanies this ugly adjective, might we be able to accept it and like it for what it is.

So blahs, I shall not adorn thee, well except for giving you'll the occasional scarf or a nice tie pin. Just that. And if you have objections too, let me know...I shall rush and get you that pretty shawl I saw at the shop window.

The first ceremonious blah

Okay. After being a bystander for long and keying the occasional poem....it seems as if So is ready to tell one and all about her blah blahs. Mind you...these have a mind of their own and are often not in So's control. But even if these amoeboid creatures move around, they have clear instructions not to leave the page...

Not that So will blah blah everytime she blah blahs for that would need a pretty large blog and the typing speed of striking lightning, but whenever the incidental blah blah finds its way to the page, it shall respectfully occupy some space there..

That's about it...the blah blahs are blinking tiredly....zoop....fuzzz...lights out