My Sister :*

Anusha, What Can I Say,
You Are The Best Sister
I Could've Ever Asked For
We Went Through A Lot When We Were Younger,
But You Helped Me Through It!
You Made Me Stronger.
I Am Thankful For That Every Day
So Thank-you For Always Being There For Me.
So On This Special Day 
I Wanted To Tell You How Much I Love You,
I Really Do!!!
I Know I Don't Say It Often But It's True.
I Love You!
 I Know We Fight a lot
But We Are siblings after all.
(We Always Forgive Each Other)!
It's Not The Fact That We Are "Blood"
But The Love I Have For You Tells Me That We Will Be FRIENDS Forever!
Happy Rakhshabandhan  

An Endless Sea with a Broken Beginning

As a number left the midst of numbers many more than none

Midnight was a matter of question, relatively relating no tale but one

Of sorrow, not of love nor hate but of something worse still

Sadness leeches out of this tale if it can your heart fill

Beginning an end but not ending the beginning that was once so long ago

Yet the sad story has a voice of its own and is but anything other than mellow

This story is so stranger, well, It has a beginning but has no end

The end can't be seen but the beginning is broken beyond mend

Not physically nor otherwise, nor a crack nor knot,

No skirmish exists here yet a rift plays its rot

Hands are tied beyond compare and legs nailed to the floor

And yet you see no end nor beginning save but an invisible door

Of what use is this door that cannot you see nor feel

And worse still it is that no one can see a seal

binding on the feet and hands without amends or pain

But harder still it is to see that all the traps have been lain

To see no choice ahead is bad enough but to see no problem is the worst there is

And to find no farewell or ending note is something that's sorely amiss

No seal can bind again this rift today; nor a boon will tomorrow

And this one thing is that which chills many-a-hardened marrow

No eyes can express guilt for deeds, nor any unnecessary denial

And yet you know that no potion will mend, no matter how large the phial

Sands won't record this fate, but stones will narrate the tale

Yet no carver nor novice engraved, and the sands now face the gale

No king nor slight ever has a story such, and yet each man has a great story to tell

This is but a humble one, but what makes you think this is mine to reveal ?

Cry you may if the tears you find, but sob do not for its not over yet

See the water harden the sand and the magma embellish it and set

And that which was unintended now has indeed become a halo

But no pipe or lute nor any flute nor a viola nor cello

Will ever help compose a lay as this for it is a man's life

And what a life it is indeed, to lie unaided in the rock

Even no bard nor poet dared ever to openly it mock

No corpse you see nor spirit felt, no hero and no villain here,

But what a tale it is indeed, fear not, for it isn't so near

A meddler he wasn't nor a peddler, nor a Count nor King

And you wonder aloud, what makes me all this sing ?

And yet I won't tell you the secret for there is none at all

Make what you will of this story, still, it never does stall

Meanings many it seems to have, but a reason only one

A reason none knows about, however done or undone

Think what you will of this, none of which mind I'll a lot,

For knots there be and still many more, but they matter not

Nor of friends nor foes is this, nor of anything soft

Yet this narrative is held high aloft

By truth, faith and fervor oft sought

Hereby I end this lay, this sorry tale of no man that lived

Lived he did but not the way you think he did

But further I shan't say anymore

As listeners and readers alike find the meaning evermore....

The Facts In Fiction

"Live in the moment."  This age old wisdom has cautioned so many generations, made them aware of the dangers of getting lost in fantasies and worlds that trap us inside them, when in reality, it’s those worlds that are trapped between our neurons. That's hard to wrap your head around.

Then again, many of us know there are characters who have taught us more than real people have. I for one look up to Gandalf, Dumbledore, Oromis and so many other wise characters, with greater respect than I look up to the grand old men that left their mark on history. I admire Frodo, Harry and Eddard more than I admire Alexander The Great.

Their deeds, though not real, have guided me through life far too often.

I have read the lives of so many visionaries, martyrs and influential figures. The stuff they did is wonderful, exemplary and every bit worth the fame and respect they are given. But let’s face it, rarely are their experiences relatable. No, I know we're never gonna have to face renegade Jedi's and tyrannic rulers that live off dragons' hearts. We don't have to worry about curses and prophecies, Dark Lords and executions. More or less, we lead ordinary lives.

But we know these characters, perhaps better than we know ourselves. There's a level of closeness we don't share even in our admiration for real heroes. Most of us grew up with these characters, progressing through their stories in their worlds even as we marched through our own lives. Through the chapters we acquainted ourselves with their darkest secrets, their joys, their fears. We might read a lot about mighty deeds by brave commanders in the wars gone by, we might read about difficult decisions that men of steel took as they walked ahead in their lives. But we never got to know them. We only know about them, but don't entirely understand them.

Would you take advice more seriously from some stranger or someone you know well, like your mom? (Okay, apart from when you've not really screwed up.)

I know the struggles of my heroes. I know them so well, I often identify with them. And I learn from them. I try not to repeat any mistakes they made because I felt the pain they felt in the aftermath. I try to take in the good about them. Hey, I'm not saying you can't learn from the great of the past. But think about it, the Mahatma ate meat and lied/hid the truth about it and repented deeply. I read it, resolved to always be truthful and soon forgot. I admit it, this is my experience. On the other hand, I learnt many lessons about lies, friendship, trust and also the difference between right and wrong from what I've read, from what I've seen in those many worlds where I roam when I feel lost.

I've roamed The Shire, trekked up Amon Amarth, marched through Du Weldenvarden, experienced life on Berk. Hell, I even witnessed the greatest wizards' duel of all time. Small secret, I've also been to the Hundred-Acre-Wood.  All with the characters who I accompanied, who help me from their locked realms of fantasy and dreams, when I'm lost in my reality.

 

Phoenix Rendezvous

Fire rites: inner revolution on a binge

Parts of me have travelled through uncounted time and space

I feel.

I want to say what I mean.

And mean what I am feeling.

I’m trying.

No need to run outside for better seeing.

Or walk to nearby windows.

Staying here—the right place for being.

So Sartre said.

The more I leave it

The less I’m free

Search your heart and see,

We are not unwise to be reborn gradually.

The way to do is to be

(I’ve always felt that).

The way to be is to do

(That thought has plagued me too).

I’m sighing.

I’ve ordered and organized reality,

Too often simplifying

I thought the price right, buying

Letting it happen to life I once called sacred.

I’ve been lying.

It’s been harder than I thought to love prevent.

Am I fading?

Awareness haunts me, and simply utter chaos.

Today untamed, tomorrow unnamed.

Not really knowing if I am going

To a meeting between my other selves and i

Or to a soulless flying.

Phoenix Rendezvous?

Letting go is like this: fear and lying, faith and crying.

And bargaining, no denying.

Giving up puts backward parts of me behind,

Yielding a different mind,

Where brokenness is sane.

The pathfinder is pain.

Joyful revolution, the seductive gain,

Some say even cellular change.

That’s what we came here for.

Gods always ask us for more.

I am fading

Quenching colliding forces and hatching new self.

Composure never quite setting in.

Instead, my consciousness and being.

Grasping one another, flex and unbend,

With endless ends and new beginnings.

Fire rites: flames licking,

Transformation finds a home again.

A Life That Has Been..

The time in between passing out of high school and joining a college is like standing on the edge of the cliff, ready to jump. You know that there is water down below but you don’t know how far down it is or how choppy it is. It is at this very instant that the proverbial “life flashing by” occurs. The comforting thought of falling on solid ground while you were there now ceases to exist. It is replaced by the fear of the unknown. I now find myself at that same juncture. And yes, I do look back and reflect on the life that has been.

By far, it is the last 6 years that have made a huge difference to me. The first three of those 6 were spent in a place that I may never forget. I was in 7^th when I first came to Pune. At that time I didn’t know anything beyond what a 12 year old should know, but that first year there changed everything. Suddenly, I was open to all the things I never knew was possible for someone so young, and it was AWESOME. A lot of shit happened too but I’d rather like to keep it buried. 7^th passed soon and then came 8^th. Now this was when I found the best of friends. Together we thought we could win the world and nothing could change us. 8^th and 9^th were too good for words, full of pranks and football and fucking around a lot. We became such good friends that when I had to leave Pune after 9^th, I fought everyone who said it was for the best. At that time, you wouldn’t care for what was best as long as you were having fun, but in the end, parents have the final say, like they always do and thus I landed in Hyderabad at a time when no one would have considered moving. I was forced to join a special “IIT Training” tuition that gave me nightmares. And then there was school which was so frustrating that I convinced myself that I would end up a loner.

I tried to distance myself from everything. I was hostile to classmates, didn’t care for shit what they thought, bunked the iit classes and went gaming instead. I lied to more people that I would care to admit, but it felt GOOD. I was there fighting for what I felt was the right thing to do. Then the unexpected happened. I met 4 guys who turned it all around. I ended up having the best time of my life that year and even met D.  I’d like to think that I am very lucky to have bumped into K, S and D because let me tell you, you both crazy idiots have become a huge part of my life and I would never part with you.

11^th and 12^th are said to be the most important years of once life and that to us meant just one thing: “N”. it was in my mind nothing more than a factory that churned out IITians every year without fail. The timings were inhuman, atmosphere gruesome. It would come as no surprise that I HATE THAT PLACE. So bad that I wanted to run away (yet again) but I didn’t, because I had no chice, that much was certain. But as with DAV, this time too I met these few people. On reflection, it seemed natural because we were all chronic backbenchers and so had to have something common :P What followed next was another bond that I hope never breaks. Of all the people there, A, S and R were and continue to be my best friends. These two years have been a roller coaster but they made it worth it, from the inside jokes to the weekly football trips, every memory is like a diamond.

And now as I write this and soon going away, I look back and see what I thought was irreplaceable has been replaced. I never thought my time in Hyderabad would be more memorable than my time in Pune. And it is all thanks to the six people I hope I time would never steal from me. We may all go different ways in the next couple of months, but I feel sure that somehow, we will never be far away.

Hallowed be thy name

Hallowed be thy name is a song that is instantly recognized by anyone remotely familiar with Iron Maiden, and rightly so. It is an outstanding piece of art, a timeless classic. The music, which as we have come to expect of Maiden is mind blowing but the crown jewel of the song is its lyrics. Steve Harris can rightfully claim his place as one of the greatest songwriters with this being his masterpiece. The song describes the last thoughts going through the mind of a convict sentenced to death. What follows is a hauntingly beautiful account of those thoughts.

I'm waiting in my cold cell when the bell begins to chime

 Reflecting on my past life and it doesn't have much time

 'Cause at 5 o'clock they take me to the Gallows Pole

 The sands of time for me are running low

 When the priest comes to read me the last rites

 I take a look through the bars at the last sights

 Of a world that has gone very wrong for me

 Can it be that there's some sort of an error

 Hard to stop the surmounting terror

 Is it really the end not some crazy dream?

 Somebody please tell me that I'm dreaming

 It's not easy to stop from screaming

 But words escape me when I try to speak

 Tears they flow but why am I crying?

 After all I am not afraid of dying

 Don't I believe that there never is an end?

 As the guards march me out to the courtyard

 Someone calls from a cell "God be with you"

 If there's a God then why has he let me die?

 As I walk all my life drifts before me

 And though the end is near I'm not sorry

 Catch my soul 'cause it's willing to fly away

 Mark my words believe my soul lives on

 Don't worry now that I have gone

 I've gone beyond to seek the truth

 When you know that your time is close at hand

 Maybe then you'll begin to understand

 Life down there is just a strange illusion

Writing

Expression of thought,

Under the light of what has been taught.

Writing isn't just the use of mere ink and a dried wrinkled paper

But it's a planned plot, plot of words

Which needs to win a battle,

Battle ?

Yes, battle of influencing people.

Clearing the blocked minds through unknown passage of time,

Detaining ruthless power of majority

When being truthful is the true nature of humanity.

Many seem to ignore, let go or simply laugh.

Those are people who cease to become something.

They believe in anything and utter the words of dumbing.

They need to realize that it's hard to jot those expressions.

Because writing resembles the unspoken speech of the silenced.