Points of seduction!

...makes me confused...makes me drowsy....makes me heavy...
n' makes me high.....makes me feel the unfelt...
n' it makes me feel the same everytime it grasps me.....
still feels like the first time though!

from those droplets of first drizzle
   that flows across your body...
to that sense of tickle
  that you feel sometimes when you're cold
   even though you feel someone just touched you
     even when no one did...

from those searchin eyes for that unfound hair clip
   hands still holdin the hair back...
to those heavy waitin eyes for the unknown that even
   makes you smile just when you tuck your
    hair right behind your ears...

from that touch of those dew drops with bare foot
   when you walk on that grass
    without even thinkin why...
to that sense of fearful drawback when you only managed to burn your finger
   with the lighted match stick...tryin to listen somethin
     which you're not meant to....

from that sparkle in your eyes which i see when you laugh
   your heart out...
those tremblin lips everytime you try to stop
   those tears to flow....

from those thrashings....those statements
     to prove me wrong...
to that hush....those silent lullabies
    to make me sleep....

from those times when you just missed the sneeze
   which you wanted to make....
to those first broken words you say after you are awake
   before you even fully open your eyes
    when your hair is still all messed up...

from that want in your eyes when
   you want to dance in the rains....
to that rage in your skin when
   you don't get what you want....

from that drop of water that swims across
   your naked waist....
to that sound of the whippin towel that you use
   to dry your wet hair....

from those traces of blood
   from your dry winter lips....
to those hints of sweat you shed
   when you feel nervous....

till all those points of submission
   from all those points of aggression...

...makes me confused...makes me drowsy....makes me heavy...
n' makes me high.....makes me feel the unfelt...
n' it makes me feel the same everytime it grasps me.....
still feels like the first time though!

The Shorter Version...

...i needed nothin...when you gave me the most.
i wanted the most...when you gave me nothin.....

Injustice!

everywhere....each step that i walk....each sight that i view....every breath that i take....makes me feel that i'm drownin like a cat in a bag...dropped in oceans of injustice where the pebbles i gather sometimes are only prejudices that act a bit too judgemental.

n' injustice lies burried everywhere around.....injustice lies naked right here n' also beyond...from the child who tries to please everyone...to the woman who doesn't want to please anyone....only is an assertion that injustice runs like blood on blood!....they say there still exist a secret cult who protect the Merovingian bloodline....but i feel it so much without any justice...as i happen to know Mrs. Potters....a single mother who needs that protection the most.....but gets only much static...n' with much content of prejudiced eyes n' fingers!

injustice it is that we heed to filthy sms/mms chains n' sitcoms n' commedy shows on t.v. just to try n' work out our lungs that are filled with dust of myths n' unrealities of lust n' semi success that we rate the most....when we ourselves hold the key to our smiles n' that of others too....but we pretend to be blind n' deaf....even if someone else attempts to try.

injustice it is that long chains of bondin is seen only within forwards of emails whereas bonds of friendships are these days more like some old soundtrack that we sometimes happen to hear in our radio sets!.....injustice it is that we don't find no ladders that reach the stars...but often encounter tunnels that lead us underground.

injustice it is that right at this moment....a little girl is bein molested by a few beasts....tryin to unveil the nakedness of both body n' sexuality...a nakedness which must have reminded "them" of their mothers....the mother that we all see naked lyin in pain n' blood when each one of us is born.....i feel it's injustice that we all forget that picture of pool of blood in form of our birth beds.....forget that picture of nakedness....n' go in search for newer forms in form of some innocent.

injustice it is that a few daughters are still missin their dads which are either not with 'em....or don't want to be with 'em....i feel injustice it is that there still exists a huge number of sons who feels either shy or unimportant to hug their moms n' say "I love you mom....you're the best!"

injustice it is that the preachers still claim that God practises equality....as i'm quite sure they've no idea how the duck billed platypus look like...coz if they did....they'd have forgotten all about equality just like i did!.....injustice it is that the spiders still have to lead a lonely life in their webs.....though researchers claim that "They are playful and romantic and kinky and enthusiastic"....injustice it is that the whales still have to swim in the company of loneliness before they're finally hunted down by a few meat merchants.....injustice it is that butterflies still have to live a short life despite bein beautiful....n' we humans still manage to live long enough when we're ugly both from our bodies n' our hearts.

injustice it is that we keep ourselves in sleep when someone needs us so much....n' injustice it is that we live a life of sleepless when we need someone the most....injustice it is that the sleepin pills refuse to work nomore when we've past all points of rescue...n' when we need 'em to work a lot!

injustice it is that virgins no longer dance in the openness like they used to....for the fear of losin it....n' men can no longer cry like a child owin to the oaths of this so called justified society....we can never escape from a few realities...no matter how far we drive in down south......injustice it is that the pains of seperation always happens to be of higher decibels than that of the joys of findin someone......injustice it is that the fear of a fall ceases the pleasure of walkin on the rope!....injustice it is that lovers still have to live the life of a drifter in the echoes of the past ambience.....unseein every other opportunity of love n' happiness that lies ahead...

injustice it is that there still exist people for whom happiness has taken a permanent vacation....injustice it is that at the time we gain the wisdom...there's nothin left where we can use it.....injustice it is that we forget that we used to crawl before we had learnt to walk.....injustice it is that the dj's don't really understand the meanin of those love songs they keep on playin......injustice it is that people still try n' want to cage those stuffs which they can never tame.....injustice it is that beauty magazines can never tell you that it's only your inside that makes you really beautiful......injustice it is that people slowly get too merged with this world as the years get unfurled. n' injustice it is that people still give less time at foreplay n' more time in sex!

'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony this life

Trying to make ends meet, you're a slave to the money then you die

I'll take you down the only road

I've ever been down

You know the one that takes you to the places where all the veins meet, yeah

No change, I can't change, I can't change, I can't change,

but I'm here in my mold , I am here in my mold

But I'm a million different people from one day to the next

I can't change my mold, no, no, no, no, no

Well, I've never prayed,

But tonight I'm on my knees, yeah

I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah

I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind , I feel free now

But the airwaves are clean and there's nobody singing to me now

tailpiece from the author

this piece is bein written in the memory of the band called "The Verve"...inspired from the track titled "Bittersweet Symphony".....a band which i consider is a modern day example of a victim of injustice!....their most critically n' commercially acclaimed track "Bittersweet Symphony" was actually a piece taken from a Rolling Stones number that was digitally recorded backwards with the consent of the members of Rolling Stones. but lawsuits were filed against the band by Rolling Stones after the track was a huge hit. further, as a result of the lawsuit, Keith Richards and Mick Jagger(Rolling Stones) were given songwriting credits and full publishing rights to the song, which later appeared in a Nike commercial against The Verve's will.

no matter what, i still wait for "The Verve" to sing again...

...from the cradle to the grave.(the addendum)

he had lost quite a few things in his life for just one gain-- to allow him to love her....missed every credit when he helped her somehow in her time of distress from a far background....missed the company of his friends who no longer liked him for his absent mindedness....missed the scholarship which could have easily changed his life....missed every other opportunity to be happy....as he was happy to think about the fact that he still managed to love her amidst those strange times....but he gained one more thing apart from the love.....sleeplessness....n' by then, he could have easily been declared as the original sleepless of the town!

n' all the time....he was impatiently n' unwantingly waitin for the inevitable to happen....the last day of college....when everythin else was goin to end...but his love for her....somethin he knew right from the day he made the promise....n' just like a cancer patient who waits to finally meet his end....he too waited to see her no more...n' everythin else wiped out....n' it'd be unfair to say that the girl walked out of his life...for she never walked in......atleast the boy thought in that way....n' he said to himself....."n' finally....i walk out of her life!".....but he couldn't....for the next four years....or more perhaps....what was yet to be discovered.

n' pages were turned.....coins were flipped...dices were rolled....n' his fortune was tested for endurance....n' in came those graduation years....four long....tedious years.....when the day started off with Metallica's "Unforgiven".....n' the night disappeared in Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here".......n' the times between those periods.....umm??...nothin.....nothin worthy to be written or read about!...n' here i'm gonna skip those four years coz in those years there were more lessons he had unlearnt than the ones he did learn.....coz in those four years......there were more broken promises than newer ones!

n' he graduated to bring smiles in those faces of his mother.....his father.....n' also the goat that his neighbour owned!....he had finally returned home from his exile when he got all sorts of news from his mother.....about the latest conspiracy theory goin on in her office.....the recent marriages n' divorces....about the couples who looked good n ' the ones who didn't.......n' also about the the little girls who he used to know....had finally had their sessions of puberty......when he almost got into some fight with his mother, as one girl, accordin to him, already had her stock of puberty the last year when he came home.....which had made his mother into some feast of fury....as she never liked issues that contained questions regardin feminism.....n' finally he had to back off n' apologize!

but he still knew that he missed her....n' her images flashed in front of his eyes like a lucid nostalgic film.....it might had lacked the lustre in those non-glorifyin years of graduation....but it definitely possessed the sparkle.....n' he was only tryin to enjoy his long awaited stay in his house.

it was only a few kilometers away from his home....a phone conversation had just arrived at a point of conclusion.....a boy n' a girl was on the phone line talkin the usual friendly neighbourhood stuff when the girl had declared her inability to visit the boy's place for some unplanned tactical inadequency.....which was so postponed for the next evenin.

n' our unqualified hero had just decided to visit his friend after quite sometime....it was a break which he really needed when he could talk about anythin....from the latest movies...the pirated music he had collected in the last four years....to the extent of nudity the mms flow could achieve.....but just then on that day....his mother got suddenly sick......might have been some precognition of a chain chemical reaction that had already begun...imparted due to age n' wisdom....but the doctor definitely told somethin else......n' so he had to stay back.

but just like its sudden advent....his mother's sickness strangely departed without even leavin any traces....which allowed him to finally take his visit.....n' it was a long time for him since he had last taken any social visits.....n' it was just like "the jester back in town"......right from his friend's mother's recipe.....his friend's father's football match...to his friend's maid's chappati.....he was everywhere....both in n' out!....n' it was somethin like energies trapped from all sides was finally findin a small outlet which somehow made a rush!

n' those were times of pleasures for him....coz strangely in that time....after a long era....he was surprisingly not thinkin about her....somethin which he was quite unaware of.....though fate wasn't!

n' then the door bell rang.....n' then she walked in.....again explainin why she couldn't come yesterday.....as if she had completely forgotten about the phone call.....n' then his freind asked him to get introduced to her.....which he had no intentions....but what he intended was far from what really had to happen!

n' he was introduced.....n' no...no fairy tale stuff did happen once again!....infact the introduction stuff sucked pretty much.....somethin which he was thoroughly unused with.....the rendezvous could have been compared with between a homely n' talkative girl next door n' a war hero from Vietnam!....but strangely enough...it worked....glances were exchanged....thoughts got mixed....n' grins flew across the center table......n' the visit that started at 5 in the evenin....ended 10 in the night.....when the girl went away......n' they finally got a chance to talk the guy stuff.....which her presence had completely ruined.....n' it was only then he came to know that she was gettin married after two months.

n' just as he was lyin in his bed.....he watched a spider weavin a web in the wall.....n' he felt somethin strange....somethin similar to what he felt when he had seen the broken kite.....but yet again he failed to relate those two occassions...but he felt some relation. n' life passed just the same way it did everyday...the sun rose from the same eastern skies....n' settled down finally in the same western horizons....the children played the same old ball game....n' the neighbours still used to concoct the same old stories....when somethin different was just about to happen.

he was reframin the last few shots of the meetin he had with the girl.....the words were..."stay in touch"....."stay in touch"......n' i don't know what exactly he was actually tryin to do....but those words had made up a world of echo in his mind...n' as if in a trance he was.....he wrote a mail to her.....to a girl who was gettin married after two months.....the fact he kept underlinin for quite a few hours....n' infact did that for the next two months n' also henceforth!

n' that was it....a beginnin of an adult friendship....a matured relationship between two matured individuals...between a boy who had a calloused past n' a girl who recently had her engagement n' was gettin married two months later...the duo....not blessed with any rhyme or lyrical enrichments...even when described.

n' it was not very long when mailboxes carried huge loads of mails or rather submissive expressions.....the boy who was blessed or rather cursed with this gift from the cosmos....to notice the unnoticeable!.... replied all those words that were written in those mails....n' also the words that were not written....n' the girl paid attention to him despite all those prejudiced remarks that boy had earned....n' it wasn't very long enough when the girl gave him her phone number...n' soon conversations began with proper verbs!.....n' the boy would write a mail to her.....everyday after the phone calls....pointin out all those stuffs the girl wanted to say but which she didn't......n' it was before the girl told him...when he got to know about the broken relationship she had recently...from one of her mails....although she never mentioned a word about it.

n' very soon without even realizin....the boy became her permanent support system...someone she relentlessly started to count on....."your words are just like chocolates!".....she'd say......n' she had become a habit for the boy....who'd devise different tactics only to bring a single smile on her face.
n' there was this serious metamorphosis within the boy....owin to that girl....his expressions suddenly findin an outlet.....those everwaitin ears of that girl who loved listenin anythin from the boy.....from inner hidden meanings of Pink Floyd's songs....Java Beans....his non-expressive broken romance.....to those strange commercials of breast enhancer in the t.v.

n' all the while.....the fact that he was talkin to a girl who was gettin married....infact comforted him.....coz slowly n' gradually.....he was havin those clouds of doubts in his mind, if he was cheatin on his previous romance by gettin too close with another girl....infact it was he who always defended her fiancee n' initiated the patch up process between 'em...in case of some disagreement....without even lettin him know about it.

n' almost two months were comin to a completion.....both of 'em had become like a mornin newspaper for each other n' the day begun with a phone call n' ended with the same.....though he always had to share the phone line with her fiancee.....the latter who always had a higher priority.....which he never seemed to mind.

n' so did the day began - the 23rd day of april.....only in the evenin....he began to realize....that somethin had already happened....which shouldn't have happened at all...n' he was filled with all sorts of doubts....n' all the time told one thing to himself...."this can't be true"....n' the entire evenin...he spent by talkin with the girls of his neighbourhood...some of 'em....he never even knew before....just to let himself know that did he feel the same while talkin to some other girl which he felt when he talked with her....but found no one.....he knew the truth by then.....but was too scared even to confess that to himself!

n' once again...he found himself takin refuge under that broken street light....sittin sleeplessly in that night....somehow holdin back to all his emotions which were still in an unexpressed mode since long ....which was nearin a point of explosion....just when...as if scripted in the divine plan....the phone rang.....n' her number flashed on the screen...just like it did so many times.....which he attended..but for the first time....he could say nothin to her but uttered words of silence....n' as if she too seemed somethin strange....asked him if everythin was ok.....just when his every reinforcements for his emotions she penetrated...n' he broke completely n' hopelessly....just like a child....the child who somehow got lost in the myths of reality.....as if it had surfaced long after childhood had perished....n' his tears were either magically or chronologically destined to preceed those tears from her eyes....n' as if that was the simplest expression of love between two souls....perhaps in one of the most complicated scenarios of life......n' yet again unspoken words spoke the most.....n' for the first time....he was able to express what he felt.....in the truest of expressions.

n' for the next day...the phone never stopped ringin...n' for the first time.....they're actually talkin like lovers....when words expressed expectations from each other.....sentences uttered demands from each other.....n' paragraphs imposed rights on both of 'em....as if it was somethin they both were desperately waitin for.

n' finally the day arrived....25th april...which he still believes .....happens to be the longest day of his life.....the very next day, his girl was goin to leave....to get married to someone else.....when all day long...n' all night long....more words were unspoken than spoken...n' all the while both understood what they meant...but only failed to understand what to do.....the girl all the while confessed with silent syllables that she didn't want to go n' he requited with the same language askin her to stay.

it was quite late at that when he recieved her last mail.....every word of which casted shadows of seperation.....in those 69 days of romance, not on a single day they met......but only after recievin that last mail...they both understood how close they had come.....defyin all equations of geography n' society....n' it was only then.... when he was comin out of the trance.....just when he realized the beautiful error that he had already made......he felt he had no right to trespass the emotions of a girl who was still recoverin from her past relationship issue n' was gettin married a few days later......he felt that he had no right to have those feelings for her....n' felt that it was he who was respondsible for the feelings she had had for him. he felt that in the process of givin her a few smiles....he had provided her ownership of vast oceans of tears.....though he himself owned a few such oceans....but he felt the bitterness coz for the first time....he had brought tears into someone's eyes....someone for whom he always wanted to be a reason for smile......he felt that he had no right to indulge in some psychological romance that would have resulted only dust that only remained.

havin all those grave thoughts still in his mind....he made his last phone call to her...the phone number he got so used to dialin....as if his fingers got some pleasure touchin those sequenced number pads....n' it was only then when he confessed how wrong he had been doin since the last two months.....not for lovin her....but makin her feel that he loved her....though he was least aware of the romance that concieved within 'em in those strange days of thunderin n' rainfall...he took every blame on himself.....as if all those burdens in his heart......burdens of guilt n' sin...could make her feel a bit lighter compared to him.....he felt that his love for her had given a lot of pain to her....which could be only put to an end by puttin an end to the romance.......more of a psychological n' metaphysical one which seemed not to belong to this world....though happened in this world.....n' he hung up the phone....hopin that everythin else would have hung up in the same way.....which was quite unlikely.

n' he was still in his bed....in the time when the moon got lost somewhere....but the sun was still to find its way in the easter horizon.....the time when the entire silence of the moment was broken by his empty heart beats....n' yet again by the song the songbird sang with the four syllables......a songbird which is believed to be a part of some ancient folklore which described a prince loiterin hopelessly in search of a songbird which hold the key to the life of his dyin princess....it was only when the songbird flapped its wings over a bud of some wild herb...that will make the bud blossom....which would revive the princess back to life.....but it would take the life of the bird....seein the prince....the bird fell in love with him n' agreed to help him only to see him happy....though he knew that would make him die.....the bird agreed only wantin a last kiss from the prince as a souvenir of its love...but after the bloomin of the flower....the prince got so excited n' happy to be able to bring his princess back to life.....he forgot everythin n' ran back to his castle with the flower......n' the legend says that the songbird still waits for the princess to return n' give the bird its last kiss.....n' still calls the prince in the form of a song of four syllables.

n' in that night...which didn't want to end....he found himself once again alone.....loneliness which had found home in him.....as if had gone on a vaccation....but had finally returned.....n' those last 23 years very lucidly flashed before him.....right from the shootin star....the story of jester Marco....the broken kite.....science class punishment....his non-expressive one track love affair....those four non-glorifyin graduation years......n' the 69 day long strange n' surreal love affair....an unexistent n' shallow relationship that stood quite tall.

....a relationship that saw everythin.....laughters that easily could've filled empty staircases.....arguements filled with enormous heat that could've easily burnt entire forests....requests n' pleas to ignore what each other last did when they both thought it was absolutely unneccessary....there were times when they actually tried to avoid each other...there were times when they were led much by their ego....n' also by their hearts......n' even tears that imparted a lot of lucidity in the language of expression.....a relationship that started with a 5 hour conversation......that lasted 69 days....a relationship in which they realized that they were actual lovers....only on the final day of their romance!......a relationship which made him realize that it wasn't at all necessary to touch someone in order to feel 'em.....a relationship which made him realize that pronounced orgasms could be achieved when souls tend to seduction!.....a relationship which made him realize that a life full of burdens with a respondsibility of mishandled relationships was far more worse than a simple death....which was now his destiny.....a relationship which made him realize that life is but a symphony......far beyond than a culmination of meaningful accidents!

n' thats how this story ends.....a tale of a boy who wanted to survive....he just needed to survive.....its a tale of the promises.....that he made from the cradle to the grave.....a story about his unexistin existence.....which he thought was more than on right or wrong.....a journey of discoveries without any proofs.......a story of a boy who intended to live forever....but ended in havin a thousand deaths in his 23 years of livin.....a story of a boy who intended to taste the chicken soup.....but ended up bein convicted by his own moral conduct against mistrust n' disbelief. a story of a misinformed acrobat who still looks for a shootin star just to make one simple wish that let the girl look at the moon when he happens to look at it...so that he can somehow feel her!

a story which does not want to evoke any tragical ecstasy of authorship....but to encapsulate a few realities of life......about truth which is far stranger than fiction....it's about unexpressed emotions that unsaid words possess.....it's about all those strangers which you often see on deserted highways.....it's an honest attempt to express the gratitude i've for all the fossils that're yet to be found....after which...even though the entire history of their species will be generated...but no will care to know about its life before bein in the fosilized captivity.....the gratitude i've for all the black spots on the moon....which have much prejudice with 'em since eternity......a story which wants to raise questions on why people don't listen to all those shallow heart beats inside the chest of a jester...who still tries to make someone smile makin a fool of himself....on why its only after when the blood begins to dry...people finally gets the smell...n' not before that....a story that wants to request everyone to have a thought when they see a shootin star.....to have a thought when they see someone gazin hopelessly at the moon!......it's a story in honour of all those tears that don't actually come........in honour of all those modern men n' women who still wait for their beloved to come back even though they know miracles seldom occur!

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
wake me up when september ends

like my fathers come to pass
seven years has gone so fast
wake me up when september ends

here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are

as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lost
wake me up when september ends

summer has come and passed
the innocent can never last
wake me up when september ends

ring out the bells again
like we did when spring began
wake me up when september ends

here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are

as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lost
wake me up when september ends

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
wake me up when september ends

like my father's come to pass
twenty years has gone so fast
wake me up when september ends...

unfinished but complete...

tailpiece from the author

this entire write up was actually inspired from the track titled "Wake Me Up When September Ends" by Green Day.....it's actually a kind of long distance dedication....n' the names are actually preserved to protect the innocent....the story of the jester Marco is compelely fictional....though the songbird do exist!.....the incident in the science class happend to be a true one.....the images were actually drawn by the dinosaurs....although the broken heart disease theory was originally crafted by the boy without any scientific pre-requisites....a theory which does not hold very sound under scientific shadows......but cannot be completely denied though!....it's safe to mention that roll no. 114 does not exist....but numbers hardly matter!....the sentence referred to in the text in some English lecture is quite a elegant one....but only in this case... happens to be without any meanin...it belonged to one of those lots that said the most but meant the least!....the botany laboratory mentioned in the text was more of a marketin ploy to attract readers!...though happens to be a true fact!.....the t.v. commercial of the breast enhancer was not meant to offend any feministic issues...huh huh!...though mentioned only as token of intimacy here....though not always means the same!....n' lastly...this entire write up was not at all intended to torture souls or endure wait...it was only intended to express the plight of tortured souls n' waitin strangers!

...from the cradle to the grave.(part IV)

four hundred n' fifty days....the cuckoo did coo....three hundred n' seventy days....the sun did shine like a beast!....five times the trees did shed their leaves.....n' time did go by....it was beginnin of the new era...marked by sex....glue....coke...n' heavy metal!.....life was much spent inside cars!.....n' homes??....well those were the places that were either burned or used by people for changin clothes!....but where did the incognito jester go?....did he get blended in those cola wars....leather jackets....n' replaced souls with tatoos?...huh, huh!....he was still there though not quite there.....he was the constant back bencher for whom no one cared to bend their necks....who could only be seen in the photos of the college year books...in some far background...even where his face was only partially visible....n' he turned out to be a teenager...who had just begun to start shavin with a touch of pride!....who had just begun to discover that the male body had hair in parts he'd never had imagined a few days back!

n' those were relatively quiet years...his life centered around shorter sentences in his English lectures of the kind..."when academics seek or accept the imprimatur of intellectualism outside of their community or peer group, specially from television which can quick-fix-fast-thinking in glib thinkers in the course of a single chat show, the domain of the original thought n' serious study is being compromised, but their moral stature n' power is being rendered vulnerable to move against the current."....n' usually after readin paragraphs of such constructions...when he used expressions like "out of breathe"...he rarely used it as a metaphor...but meant it literally!...he found out that tryin to solve a calculus problem by chewin bubble gum was somethin similar to tryin to get a remedy for ones long broken love life in some idle tuesday!....the only sourse of entertainment was in n' around the botany practical laboratory where couples used to kiss....so much so that those sounds sometimes used to come out...unintentionally though!

it was an ordinary afternoon....an ordinary chemisty lecture...just when somethin extraordinary was about to happen...."roll no. 114"..."yes sir"...."roll no. 114?"...."yes sir(with a lower voice)"....."no, i don't think anyone is more smarter than me here!...the lady there...please get out of my class."....n' she did walk out of the class....n' that was not at all magical....neither predestined....it didn't deal with acts of serendipiocity....n' no cloud did burst...but he found somethin way strange within him....she appeared to him as the beauty queen from mars!...n' it was just at that moment when he lost all his innocence...just like a maiden who had lost her virginity for the first time!

n' no nothin of the fairy tale stuff did happen...where the hero takes all the blame to save his girl...n' the day ended with a soar throat n' high fever...which made him stay at his home for a whole week....which meant that he wasn't goin to see her for a whole complete week....n' it wasn't even so that he really wanted to see her.....'coz those usual acts of courtship never attracted him.....just like they still don't...but somethin way beyond his knowledge was gettin cooked....n' he feared..."were those symptoms of love?"....he hated to be in love like other used to n' he was highly relieved when the doctor confirmed that it was actually a viral infection...."Viral Actually!".

n' that long week went by...n' he finally came back to college where his eyes were lookin for someone...though he wasn't very sure why he wanted to see her again...but he did...a girl with long hair...who still dared to wear skirts that rolled down below the knees...somethin that stood out in the throng of long bare legs!....n' a girl who never used to take out her cosmetic box in front of the boys.....like most of 'em did...as a first step of seduction!...who still wore plain lipstick n' "kajal" as her only makeup...the girl who never gambled with each other for the place in the backseat of the fanciest bike of the college.

n' for the next few days....he swung back n' forth between reasons n' fallacies....when his first attraction soon turned into an urge...which soon turned into some passionate habit...n' it was just that....n' nothin more happened to be described or narrated...n' for a moment i thought....i shall stop here...but i guess that would be some form of injustice to the passive love that he possessed....at least he deserves some passive sentences!

he soon realized that what he felt for her was somethin very special...though he still hated to categorize that to love for the image that love bore in those days....where kissin in the botany laboratory was almost a post requisite as a proof of love!....but somethin like love did flow around him....n he made a promise to himself that he'd continue to share this feelin with himself as long as he could...but without any form of expression....n' why did he chose to make such a promise....well no one could ever understand that....but he knew exactly what he did....unlike the stereotype love affairs of those times....he wanted his one track love affair to stand out....he felt that his love affair would be complete only if it happened to be an unconditional one....n' so he promised to himself that he won't be expectin anythin back...not even love.

his action was more like a backfire to those times that he had been through....where he wanted to make this presence felt in this own simple way...but even that couldn't overshadow what he felt for her...somethin which only he knew....the chemistry of which was stronger than the strongest covalent bonds...n' he didn't let the girl or anyone else to have the slightest hint of even a possibility of love.

but sooner he realized that those pleasant sessions of insanity when he merely thought about her...by lockin the doors...so that he was never caught in between those acts of insanity...had turned to be quite painful durin times....he soon began to realize that the promise he had made wasn't the easiest one to be kept....but he never regretted...but soon found out that those nights had grown a little bit longer...n' a little bit colder!...his pain had grown both in magnitude n' in direction for the unrequited emotions which he preserved...n' for those non-expressive expressions of those wounds which were a part of this soul.

n' there were hours of arguments when he actually agrued with himself...questionin his idea of expression of love with more than valid reasons...but all his logic failed when he asked himself one question...."how can i ask or rather even want her to love me back just because i happen to love her?"....n' he could think of no better expression than he had for his love...which he had begun to belive that it could be one of those unconditional love...though he never bothered to fall into the technicality!

but times were harsh...when there were moments he could resist no more....n' all his pain bursted n' flooded through his eyes....he used to sit under a broken street light...n' cursed the heavens...not for his personal situation...but for the universal phenomenon as to why men were not allowed to cry in the public...yet he had failed every attempt to make him understand the reasons for those tears....as nothin had happened unreasonably or unintentionally...but what he exactly chose..but still those unreasonable yet meaningful tears did flow....but not for a single moment he thought for any expression or confession to be a part of his romance.

still in continuation....

...from the cradle to the grave.(part III)

twelve years had passed away....the little boy had grown enough....to say "no" when his mother asked him to come with her to the neighbour's party....though he was still frightened to sleep alone in the nights....he was still in the regime of the fear of the dark.....n' it was more in the the daylight when he was good in pretendin to be a grown up kid......"pretendin".....the gift or the curse he was inherently blessed with!

he was moved to a bigger school as his mother thought.....bigger classrooms n' wider playgrounds are goin to broaden his future.....somethin which she was so concerned with.....n' what did he think??...he didn't!...he was never bothered with such questions....n' so did he walk in this new world.....a world of wider space but narrower minds......a world of longer reach...but shorter visions.....a world with a loaded future....but a hollow present!..but he liked it....like an ant which was suddenly taken out of his anthill to a large field....though largeness was confusin...yet confusion could be so amusin at times!

it was here when he first learnt that inhalin nicotine was a proof of ones masculinity....as claimed by the veteran members of this macho cult!.....it was here where he first learnt that people actually earned a lot of money by sellin magazines that had photos of nude women!.....it was here where he learnt that respectin others was not really a need of the hour......a world he had to live in to reach his dreams.....a world where most lived a life of a dirty "whore" who does everythin only for a payback!

but his innocence was yet to be stolen by this world....though this world did not go unnoticed by him....but it definitely went unattended...n' thus, he was often encountered by surprises, accidents n' delirium....his first surprise was in the science class when his teacher asked the class "write on the extinction of the dinosaurs".....which he did in his most honest words...."Dinosaurs used to draw images on the sand.....but no one ever understood what they meant....sick of all those unrequited emotions....the dinosaurs finally succumbed to a broken heart disease."

the boy was asked to leave the class next day for givin the stupidest answer....though he felt he was only tryin to be honest with his answers.....loiterin in the empty corridors of the big school....it was the very place where he.......subconsciously though.....was moldin himself for the purpose which laid hidden.

n' it wasn't long enough....when he first came to know about the bonds of friendship when he met his first friends.....somewhere in those corridors of uncertainity n' doubts....n' soon he began to realize that he alongwith his friends....had the art of bein the entertainers....providin entertainment to people for no reason at all.....or rather there were reasons.....which made 'em believe that people actually listened to 'em when they spoke....but it were the jests that they were listenin to.....only for the sake of bein entertained!.....but they didn't care.....even if it made 'em no bigger than official clowns..they didn't care.....even if they knew that the ones who finally locked the circus were actually the last ones to leave....they didn't care!

n' he soon thought that he had learnt what he gotta do....n' felt that he could make people laugh..he could make others think...he thought that he could create a canvas where he could make others see how his world looked like....he thought he was a bit different from the rest but with a purpose....just like the shootin star.....he thought that he could really make his presence felt just like the songbird of the four syllables that he was so familiar with......'n he walked on.....though alone.....he was yet to feel the presence of his solitude.

still to be continued....a tale of a boy who wanted to survive....he just needed to survive.....its a tale of the promises.....that he made from the cradle to the grave.....a story about his unexistin existence.....which he thought was more than on right or wrong.....a journey of discoveries without any proofs.......

...from the cradle to the grave.(part II)

childhoon swam across that small town in the form of that child....the young mother had dreams for the newly born.....dreams that she wanted to happen with herself....that never did....not because of anythin else...but she failed to understand that those were HER dreams....n' when she did....it was just too late for her to think about 'em anymore!....n' so she prayed with all her faith that let her son be different from the rest.....so that even the rest identified him as the rest!....n' the young one still wrapped in innocence....didn't have a clue what plot was being woven around him.....a gift which his mother wanted for him would soon be a curse for him in his later life....was a mystery....yet to be known.

n' so did the songbird sing......the song of four syllables that was almost like a lullaby for him....life was gradually evolvin as the cradle swung...n' the boy had no idea that he was growin....n' soon he began to notice that people around him spoke to each other in a language stranger than what he seemed to understand.....that of the songbird.......n' that was when he made his first promise to himself....that he gotta learn this language.....for he really wanted to know what others felt around him....just like he still does....but doesn't make any promises though!

n' not very later....though not very sooner....he began to understand the stories his mother told him to put him to sleep....n' it was a story of a stranger which he vaguely remembered though not completely......a folklore based on some true incident in some remote past...in some foreign land....."It was a murky evening...in a late autumn....when this stranger came at the door of the most renown physician of the town....seekin relief from the cholera which victimized him....the disease had dwelled within him for quite sometime...n' the stranger had almost formed a habit with it....after treatin with those usual sets of medication....the physician tried to explore his social expertise with the stranger....n' found that the stranger was more sick in his heart than his body....n' as a token of advice ...the physician asked the stranger to go to Marco....the most reputed Jester in the town....the physician told that it was Marco who could give his empty sorrowful heart...a zest for life...which the stranger lacked....n' then that stranger looked into the eyes of the physician with thorough paleness n' submission....uttered the words..."I'm he, Marco!"........."

the boy failed to hear the rest of the story as he got somethin else to see.....a broken kite that got stuck in a tree in the front yard...gettin blown down by the wind.....still caught in the branches.....makin some strange noise.....the little boy felt as if the story n' the kite had some relation....that dealt with his life....but failed to comprehend....n' he fell in the arms of sleep....the most ignorant one i guess....for the story that he left unfinished was more than just a story....which would take more than twenty years to make him understand what it meant......what it meant in his story.......his story......a tale of a boy who wanted to survive....he just needed to survive.....its a tale of the promises.....that he made from the cradle to the grave.....a story about his unexistin existence.....which he thought was more than on right or wrong.....a journey of discoveries without any proofs.......

to be continued...

...from the cradle to the grave.

an untold one yet.....a voiceless one...one that needed some kind of expression....an older one...one that needed a revealation....another tale of some distant time.....a tale of a boy who wanted to survive....he just needed to survive.....its a tale of the promises.....that he made from the cradle to the grave.....a story about his unexistin existence.....which he thought was more than on right or wrong.....a journey of discoveries without any proofs.......n' some part of it also happens to be true!....yet far stranger than fiction.

in some far off land which was yet to be raped....wrapped around magnets of myths n' superstitions....where people could still see the sun risin from the east....where the songs that the songbirds sang were more than just a matter for the ornithologists!

in that county....dwelled a couple....of ordinary beliefs n' desires...they had nothin much to lose...they wanted nothin much to gain....n' so they lived their ordinary lives with extraordinary pretensions of contentment.....pretensions so real that even they couldn't make out...but the want was there....right there....they wanted somethin.....somethin to own.....but neither revealed....nor broke down.....it was only in one bright dark night when it showed up....when both were sittin in their backyard of wastes under the sky....both saw a shootin star....n' both made a wish....as if one were the echo of another....as if that star was destined to shoot....only to fulfill that wish of the lonely couple!

n' then the wish took its course.....n' soon....that couple got what they wanted....a child...their child whom they can own....the couple used to hold their child beneath the bowl of stars....with a sign of thankful sigh.....n' so this child came down between the stars.....a child whose fate centered around the fate of a star....a star who himself lost its fate n' got shot down!....a birth markin the truth that tears remain burried deep within every laughter....that there exists junks of dust beneath a handful of diamonds.....that a peaceful stream of wind marks the presence of some violent storm somewhere in strange land.

n' then the story began.....a tale of a boy who wanted to survive....he just needed to survive.....its a tale of the promises.....that he made from the cradle to the grave.....a story about his unexistin existence.....which he thought was more than on right or wrong.....a journey of discoveries without any proofs.......

to be continued...

...LOCKED echoes of lost words!

a wait...another wait...still longer wait.....yet another goodbye.....one more departure .... longingness .... belongingness ..... mysteries yet to be unveiled.....a few waves.....a few bubbles....a shallow hole dug deep....life, life, n' still more life...somewhat stranger...but still alive.....a few meaningful ones.....n' a few untold....signs, signs n' more signs.....tatoos run deep....tatoos run wide....pictures of graveyards....few tears.....few drops of blood!

a walk......another walk....still longer walks....a journey with undestined fixations....streets with no bendings, but brings me back here once again......streets don't change....but only the names....few boards....few neon lights....few dog barks...but with broken desires.

nights....nights....one more of those nights...morning light departs with a still darker night....the tale of this sleepless seems to last forever.....the boundaries of the gift n' the curse run thinner.....the differences seem to grow wider....wounds open up still deeper...the song from the far reaches my ears...i can feel it....can't hear it though!....a sense of incompleteness always persists....a sense of fulfillment longs to unleash.....strangesness at its peak.....leaves no trace.....no smoke...no ash...but the fire prevails!

meanings oppose....reasons regenerate doubts...purpose defy....stretches of silence signify wait....they signify fear...fear of anticipation....fear of crushed hopes...but still do persists...even though reasons fail...purpose escape.....loneliness shows up with a definite plan!

dreams....illusions....visions....déjà vu....hallucinations...n' falsehood.....n' then the picture of the child.....a little girl with long hair....a selfish smile with indifferent eyes....the sound of the twinkle...the sound of the tickle....the sound of the giggle...the sound of the droplets....follows the sounds of silence....always!.....but still the wait propagates deeper....lasts still longer!

waitin till the gaps of silence perish forever...waitin for the wait to unlast forever......waitin for the lullaby to hush forever.....waitin for the ages to revive forever.....waitin for the rivers to flow forever.....waitin for the blindness to see forever....waitin for the madness to reign forever.....waitin for the whispers to fill these ears....waitin for the fingers to lift those fears....waitin for you not to look through me once again...waitin for you when i find you once again.....this wait of unknown origin marks your presence.....though not certain...but still remains....n' i'm gonna wait if it keeps you alive....i'm gonna wait if it makes me feel that you're gonna arrive!

.....Wondering, amusements, ignorance....n' blindness!

was lookin through the pages of an old diary.....got hold of a few lines.....never read 'em like this before...n' i was underlinin words with my mind....words that implied a lot of force witha a lot of ambiguity ..... "kind of" ... "strange" ... "almost" ... "dreams" .... "hopes" ...."pretty much".... "reason" .... "meaningful accidents" .... "yesterdays" .... "dust" .... "rust" ... "habits" .... ummm!..."habits" ...strange enough that we make 'em our part without even knowin about it....i found it so similar like bein in love....you just float in it....somethin like a dream....you know you're in....but make you feel so real....you fail to notice the boundaries that define it!

habits like love.....stay with you always!.....sometimes you feel it....sometimes you don't....but all the times....it dictates you!....you tend to look for the TV with your remote in your hand....even though this very mornin....you've shifted it to your new shelf.....you genuinely take a wrong turn which leads you to a place...you know now where you don't belong.....just the same way you end up dialin a number...you're used to dial so much! ......just the same way i hug that pillow while i sleep.....without which i'm not gonna fall asleep!

habit is just like love....you follow it...worship it....in a sense that you practise it with more devotion than when you finally took up religion!.....you laugh when someone's around....n' it takes to tears when you miss someone --why(?)....habit...just like love...not much defined in terms of logic....not decided much by reason....but who decides 'em anyway(?).

habits expect nothin back....just like love does....needs a good heart to keep it...sometimes i wonder why blindness is so confusin....whether those moments did become my habits or was it only love!!

It's "kind of" "strange" that "dreams" n' "hopes" "pretty much" co-exist....though may not simultaneously.....but their existense mark the existense of the "reasons"....just like the occurances of "meaningful accidents"...like the presence of the "dust" n' the "rust"..in our "yesterdays"....though it exist no more!

...Origin Obscure!

more to express with a lesser expression ......is feminism
more to say with a lesser voice .......is feminism
dancin with broken foot steps .......is feminism
even ignorance n' blisfulness ......is feminism
more to think with little tatoos of memories ......is feminism
even "pausin at the doorstep..." ..........is feminism
bein loved ......is feminism
actin like a stiff drink ......is also feminism
bein "mysterious n' beautiful" ......is feminism
n' yeah..sometimes even the porche .......is feminism...
keepin the faith .....is feminism
a burnin fire .....is feminism
storm itself ......is feminism
even harmony .....is feminism
chasin the dreams .....is feminism
sometimes....even to look back ......is feminism
bein nervous for no reason ......is feminism
n' when you bite your lips when you act so...thats feminism

i know not if imrana ....is feminism
but i do know that nomadic waves .....is feminism!

Never thought to be...

Never thought to be
as times could be so strange as these
When you always seek to talk so much
but never could talk to anyone there.
Where you wanna go so many places to
but find no charm when you be there.
When every decision takes you back
to a place you never wanted to
When no words could ever lift you now
When you seek for someone you know you'll never find

Never thought to be
as times could be so strange as these
When you've to smile back at 'em
just to fill those silent gaps.
When yesterdays are all that you've got
but todays and tomorrows you chase to fall down.
When you keep on walkin on the still straight road
till you get tired to find no place.
And a time comes when you no longer recognize
after years of livin in the woods of ash!