existence.future..

Have you ever wondered about your exsistence in this world?

seriously... im a ponderer i think a lot and sometimes my thoughts dwell into a lot of aspects of the purpose of my existence on this planet, there is a fire in my soul that doesn't die, there is this want, need to achieve more than i was meant to do, to make a difference to the world that i live in.

But then again.. am i a dreamer? As a 20 year old young woman , am i expecting my self to create wonders.. i often wonder if there are more people like me out there who feel lost and uncomfortable and feel like they have been restricted from unleashing their true selves?

just the other day...I saw a baby with a golden ribbon around her head. and i kept observing the twinkle in her eyes and the innocence in her smile and it almost brought tears to my eyes.. being next to her made me feel so impure , I have to admit i was jealous of her.. she didn't have to worry about which lecherous man was watching her, whether she was dressed appropriately?, how was she to earn money? .. such a carefree and lovely existence.The thought that hurt was that one day that innocence will be lost and that she will be like any one of us, in this terrible wicked world , helpless and fighting for her survival. making sure that she is safe at all time, having to worry about creating an identity for herself and fighting it out in this deep dark world where one has to throw away all his values and morals and kill and cut anothers throat to get forward in this race of money ,wealth and fame.

And then i ponder, is this what i have come to? Is this why i exsist, to have a fancy car and a 6 figure salary and handsome man by my side and be selfish and turn my self away from the real world, which is where i should be!...


Just in case,you have started thinking that i am a highly pessmist girl,who always tends to think bout the big,black,dark,evil world then no..it isnt that.on the contrary,i think the world is rosy and beautiful and i can see and feel the sushine also..but its just the on-off bouts which take me to such paths which would lead me somewhere..which are undiscovered..n which i am scared to discover..

-the girl.

back,..with a bang (?)

yes, it has to be a big hi, that too in block letters.have been absconding for god knows how many days..
but now surely back with some things which i gave a thought to, realised n felt.coming up soon. till then..
:) ..just a smile.

- the girl.

God in small things..

Have you ever been big enough to notice small things? Have you ever walked down a street looking at the trees and see them smile at you? Ever seen a dry leaf being carried away by the wind, taking somersaults, running from nobody like a child in the park, waiting for something to come its way so that it can topple over once again?

Have you seen a small child smile… at you… because of you? Ever felt at the top of the world even after a worst possible day because you made someone smile… and could see that someones day being made?

Have you ever had the time to time the time? When you had to rush nowhere… like still water! No work to go to, no friends to catch up with, no calls to make, no mails to check. Just stand like a tree… smiling at everyone who bothers to notice. When you are very calm and serene, in a mood to appreciate the beauty of nature… notice the small but beautiful things around you that you overlook most of the time. When you are in a mood to listen and not talk… this is when you should try talking to small people, one that do not matter to you… oldies for example… who probably are the only people who could feel the earth rotate around its own axis. People abandoned by people, by senses and waiting to be abandoned by life. Try and talk to them… connect with them… and you shall realize that they do think… think big… think smart… just like us… the only difference is that may be they cannot maintain their flow of thought. But its very interesting listening to them… and best part is… if you do listen… you are blessed with that one small smile on their face at the end that says, dear… you made my day! One smile that can speak more than 1000 comprehended words per second and infinite happiness… far beyond any communication bandwidth. Make you feel good… big… happy... blessed. Reinstates the belief that God exists even in small things.


Love everyone, because life is like a game of chess, once the game is over, the king and the pawn go in the same box.
– Inspired by Being Cyrus (The Movie).


The quote has not much relevance with the post... I just like it.

-the girl.

Of Long Drives and Camel Rides.......

You're trying hard to sit still but you can feel your insides moving from side to side, back & forth, while you try to steel yourself n keep reciting lines from the bible/bhagwat gita/qoran/guru granth sahib/etc hoping you're alive by the time you reach your destination.By the time the ride ends and u alight from your means of transportation, you are certain thatyour internal organs have been re-arranged giving you that queasy feeling.Camel ride anyone? Just in case you're not anywhere in Rajasthan or nowhere near a camel inhabited zone, have no fear! Our dear ol Pune has everything you need!Just get your car(or bike or cycle or rickshaw) n cruise (???) around our marvellous city on the even more marvellous and smooth roads(???) and i assure you that the drive/ride will definitely remind you of an excellent butt breaking cruise on the ship of the desert.Whoever it was at OPEL who came up with the slogan "Life is a journey; Enjoy the drive" has obviously never had his neck on the line on Pune's roads.I'm stopping this article here for fear that in case i do continue and use the correct adjectives for the concerned officials, I may land up in legal trouble (Not really..I'm just feeling so darned lazy...Also, I'm stopping coz i'm a lil fed up of the mediocre nature of this post..writer's block you know.. )

And yes,kabhi alvida na kehna..(which gives me one more kick in the hindmost to watch this one!)

hey boy,would like to watch it with me?the 'simultaneous' plan that is..m waiting for it to materialze..

-the girl.

not a nice place to be in..

What do you do when a favourite dream grows old? Revisit and stoke the dying embers of what was once a raging fire which consumed your whole being? Be prepared then to be unsettled. Since it was your favourite, the embers will willingly relinquish the burden of the survival struggle. They know that intentions notwithstanding, your visit itself will be their Elixir. Fuelled on further by your guilt at having forgotten this dream.As the fire leaps up again, you unconsciously shrink away. At first you think it is the heat that has you all bothered. It soon has you fighting with your back to the wall. But it won’t let you win. Or leave. Tired of sparring with the flames of forced introspection, you stand and analyse. Yourself. With cool detached calm, far from what you feel.You fear not the fire. You lit it after all. But why the shadows which are lengthening by the second? Standing between the fire and you is your newest dream, just manifested into surety. Mint fresh and gift wrapped in the sunny paper of happy feelings, it landed some time ago on the touchstone of your belief. And it made the transition. From plain metal into gold. You scarcely believed that alchemy worked until then.But now, the fire is powerful. It swells and rages, feeding itself on long cherished aspirations and goals. “How can shift your goalposts so?,” they accusingly question. “Extinguish us and you lose a part of you. Unfulfilled at that,” they remind.And you stand there. Your face a picturesque canvas. A play of light and shadows. A study in contrasts. The only decision you make is to buy time. You acknowledge your dream, a part of you back. The fire becomes like before, a part of you. Only it has to compete.And now begins the fight. The real contest. The fire is important but it must be contained. Or it will burn and smother, leading you to asphyxiate on stifled emotions. What worth then the glittering diamonds, if surrounded by the ash grey of charred feelings? Yes, you need him on your side. He is the only real touchstone. Father Time.

-the girl.

why write?

Whoever it was who vanished in the silence of words, who said writing is an art, pervades all minds save mine. For me words are loud and no matter how loud i shout.it seems quiet.Here I am staring into the placid walls of my room , with a willingness in my eyes, rummaging deep into my memories for words; but easier wished than done,it just doesn't come.Staring into my empty computer screen, I feel no need to write.The willingness has died and so has the necessity.But as i settle my vision on the wall above me with very little sleep in my eyes and as I burrow deep into my memories,walking lonely along untrodden alleys, I feel the need to write.Ofcourse,the boy has done his level best by telling me '101 reasons why i shud not stop blogging'..The inertia is overwhelming.But seated against a cosy chair as of mine, I have mustered enough patience to pen a few lines.With a pleasant feeling of this jarring pain and at a loss of lexicons, my mind has lost its agility.The legend of phoenix inspires me to push my limits, to resuscitate my tepid spirit.Take a deep breath and you can still smell the pleasant aroma of ash on me.Words are all on which I survive and (what an irony) at those I arrive with a conscious try!!Come , join me in this journey of mine and do walk alongside me to the divine...the journey is short and has some bends though inevitably it has to see its end...

-the girl.

the song of silence..

The creeping voices of this silence, are slowly pouring through my soul,
I’m standing all alone on a stranded road with my life in a million folds.
And I can feel the walls falling stone by stone on me,
The screeching voices are held in a breath too long to feel.
I can smell my fingers going numb, all along life has lost its sense.
But, the darkness is putting me to sleep through sweet song of silence.
My lids are closing down, to the darkness of my pain,
The paths I’ve meandered through have all gone in vain.
The words no more have meaning; I’ve heard what you have to say,
I’m tired of walking all alone; it’s such a long day.
My life is stuck in a moment, a moment too long to live.
Like breath held too tightly, too tightly too breathe.
I’m seeking the lost beauty of innocence,
But the moment is pulling me into the sweet song of silence.
The days are so long and dark, the time is at a hault,
The rooms are so empty, everything so untouched,
And I gaze through my desolate eyes, helpless, screaming it not my fault.
And as try to feel the depth of my pith, I fall inside my sin,
The broken pieces of my soul are pouring through my skin.
The stillness of moving pictures, I can feel in the broken mirror,
I try to peep into the pieces, but pulled back by fear,
A fear of seeing the unseen, a fear of seeing the truth I’ve not been.
The sweet smell of life is tucked away, somewhere far from my essence,
And somehow, striving through the fields, I start humming the song of silence.
Now, when I walk through the crowed boulevards, I see the voidness inside concrete,
Forging myself into life, I see the stifled surrendered streets.
But the time has washed away my tears; the winds have swept away my fears.
Trying to extinguish the fire of my silhouette, people turn their heads around,
Moving on, exalting the silence of sound.
But life has its way of showing the girth of resilience,
Sometimes through words, sometimes through a song of silence.


- the girl.

the lemon tree..

I'm sitting here in the boring room
It's just another rainy Sunday afternoon
I'm wasting my time
I got nothing to do
I'm hanging around
I'm waiting for you
But nothing ever happens and I wonder

I'm driving around in my car
I'm driving too fast
I'm driving too far
I'd like to change my point of view
I feel so lonelyI'm waiting for you
But nothing ever happens and I wonder
I wonder how I wonder why
Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue, blue sky
And all that I can see is just a yellow lemon-tree

I'm turning my head up and down
I'm turning ,turning, turning around
And all that I can see is just another lemon-tree

I'm sitting here
I miss the power
I'd like to go out taking a shower
But there's a heavy cloud inside my head
I feel so tired
Put myself into bed
Well, nothing ever happens and I wonder

Isolation is not good for me
Isolation I don't want to sit on the lemon-tree
I'm steppin' around in the desert of joy
Baby anyhow I'll get another toy
And everything will happen and you wonder

I wonder how, I wonder why
Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue, blue sky
And all that I can see is just another lemon-tree

I'm turning my head up and down
I'm turning ,turning, turning around
And all that I can see is just a yellow lemon-tree

And I wonder, wonder.. I wonder how, I wonder why
Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue, blue sky
And all that I can see, and all that I can see, and all that I can see
Is just a yellow lemon-tree..

this was written a few weeks back.don't ask me what did i see as the lemon tree or the blue,blue sky.its inexplicable.and mebbe it doesn't exist.what exists lies in front of u.my imagination.my poem. - Syd Barrett (Pink Floyd), 1995

- the girl.

Conch

She walked along the sandy shore..lazily...lost in her own world. Without too many concerns or thoughts to weigh down her mind..she was at peace.She felt one with the ocean and its warm breeze.Absent-mindedly she dug up shells from beneth the sand with her toes and examined them. The colourful ones she pocketed..the less fortunate ones were returned to their resting place beneath the waves.
After collecting nearly a dozen exotic shells (her necklace would be the talk of the class) she was returning back home when she struck her foot against it. It was the most beautiful shell she had ever seen.

Pearly white and shiny.In her mind she thanked the little critter for having vacated and left her with his home. She picked it up and dusted the sand off it. Too big to fit into her pocket with the rest of them, she carried it in her hand.

Then a thought passed thruough her mind. Didnt they say that you could hear the heartbeat of the ocean if you listened closely to a conch? She pressed the shell to her ear, closed her eyes and absorbed the sound.A part of her knew that the sounds she was hearing was nothing more than the echo of blood being pumped through her ears. The rest of her scorned the learned part of her and delighted in the sounds of the ocean. She imagined that she heard each wave as it broke upon the shore and lethargically retreated back from where it came. She imagined that she heard the breeze moving gently over the water and meeting the land. She imagined she heard the high-pitched scream of a girl....

Immediately she took the shell away from her ear and cursed under her breath.My mind is playing tricks on her,she thought.Thats what you get for being in the sun for too long.Instinct told her to toss the shell away and return home as fast as she could. Sadly following her instincts wasnt her forte. Curiosity had already got the better of her as she drew the shell close to her ear once again.

This time the voice was crystal clear.In an instant the waves seemed to have died away leaving the ocean still as death and the warm breeze had been replaced by a cold wind that made her shiver. She was all alone on the beach. Just her, the vast expanse of the black ocean, the cursed shell and the scream which was quickly reaching its blood curdling crescendo.
She was paralysed...She used as much force as she could muster but could not move the shell away from her ear. It had taken control over her.She was its slave. As her knees gave way she could do nothing but lie there on the wet sand, tears running down her sandy cheeks, with the shell pressed against her ear. The scream had engulfed her. The last thing she heard before the darkness embraced her was a second voice. A voice that was much more familiar to her. A scream emitting from the back of her own throat...

A lifeguard found her lying cold and lifeless on the sand. The ambulance was sent for as he fervently tried to breathe life into her dead lungs.Within a few minutes he knew that she had passed on to the afterlife and said a small prayer over her body. Accompanying the body in the vehicle to the hospital he looked at the shell which had been pressed to her ear hard enough to draw blood. With tears in his eyes he held it up to his ear and tried to listen to the ocean that they had left behind.

- the girl.

personal updates..

Since some time, this blog has remained uncharacteristically silent on my personal half, thanks to my having been busy over a lot of small things. Clock has moved a few cycles and a lot has happened in the meanwhile. Also, I have been getting some complaints offlate about my having turned into a critic all the way. Well, I haven't forgotten that this blog has been my alter-ego. I have put my arm around its shoulders everytime I had something to talk about. And a lot of it has been personal issues as well. Somehow, the warmth of those personal details has been absent from here. This post is a small positive effort to correct that mistake. It's a purposeless post without any literary, cinematic or social content - an effort only to put my arm around a few shoulders.

About 15 days ago, I saw two of the best films ever made - Nagrik and Ajantrik by Ritwik Ghatak. Watching the movies left me speechless on one hand and on the other, I could see why they speak so highly of Ghatak. FTII students rave about him and his work is considered a landmark in Indian Cinema, not without reason I must say. Such is the beauty of his work that it can humble even Satyajit Ray, I am sure. I will try to pen down some of my thoughts about his films soon enough.

But really,with movies like these,it feels much lighter... and I feel like a free human. A lot of my time used to go wasted for what was not offerring me much positive result. Sometimes, you are only too happy to get rid of something that sheer inertia causes to stick onto you.Over to new horizons, new ways of life, new people and new places...

now,was this post really personal?whatever be the answer..think i can improvise ..the mere mention of the realisation of lack of 'personal footing' will give a touch to my future posts..lets see!!till then,i shud be giving some hearty sentiments to the boy and receiving something 'ice' y in return!!..he's been achieveing things..though his modest self wont ever admit that..but small achievements,as small as small mails, lead to big achievements..don't they??

-the girl.

Walk

I have always wanted to take a long walk in the woods.Walking under leafy canopies on a bright morning with sunshine filtering through like golden beams, just the thought of it envelops me in warm serenity, especially at times when I have those special mood-snitchings. Sometimes it happens so that I start living in my dreams. And then when reality tries to wake me up I don’t want to open my eyes. Like a little child who so innocently believes in love and goodness.As one grows in life one realizes that for dreams to come true, one needs to do more than just believe in one’s dreams. One realizes that it’s easier to dream but it takes a lot of faith, time and effort to nourish a dream so that it becomes reality. And then one loses hope eventually burying the dream deep inside like a cherished treasure from childhood. It’s hard to do that. Bury your dream. It’s almost like when your dog dies.But, tough though it may be, I want to make my dreams into reality. A very simple poem with no artistic words but conveys lot many things..


Follow your dreams
Wherever they lead
Don’t be distracted by
Less worthy needs…

Shelter them, nourish them,
Help them to grow
Let your heart hold them down
Deep where dreams go…

Follow your dreams,
Pursue them with haste
Life is too precious
Too fleeting to waste...

Be faithful, be loyal
Then all your life through
The dreams that you follow
Will keep coming true…!

Someday I’ll walk in the woods and share memories of times when my dreams came true…

-the girl.

Out Of the World

The tiny laughter,
the wailing cry,
The never-ending innocence of time unbound.
The warm sleep,
the winsome smile,
Make the heart lovingly pound.

Those soft hands,
those chubby feet,
The sweet face of an angel
Words fail to describe the purity,
Of this god-sent cradle

She looks into the space beyond,
The sun is blinding no more,
The pupils cease to react,
The colours of life are gone.

Yet when she lies in the broken crib,
Indifferent and carefree,
Deserted by kin, embraced by aliens,
“Possessed” by nobody

Why does the heart cry out?
When the mind couldn’t care less,Why do the eyes,
those sightless blue eyes,
Still make you feel “OUT OF THE WORLD”, Yes…

again..would like to say that there are some things for which one has no explanation..like this poem for example..u cannot really describe the state of mind u have been in giving no comments as an answer for questions like saying 'what made u write this..'..its just bout feeling it and penning it down..the boy has always been highly active when it comes to blogging but me due to those lack of knowledge n ideas still fumble..hope u adjust with me,boy..

-the girl.

memories in ink..

Good days, cherished memories, how we ache for them to come back and envelope us in their warmth. Take us away from this reality and hide us in a place where nothing but goodness can touch us. How we hope against hope for a time to come when we would just love being so full of life, only to soak everything around us. But, it does come. But when such a time comes, we are so busy blushing the entire time, that we forget that it was right here. It passes by like an evanescent, blinding flash of unreal reality – unreal because later, tears make their way through our solid bearing, wondering about how lovely those days were and start questioning if they were ever there.

Everything that a man yearns for, deeply yearns for, is that fuzzy intoxicating feeling of happiness. Even the ones who are ostensibly content with their ‘rocking’ lives long for this ultimate feeling of bliss. I think that this feeling can never touch us when we want it to or when it should. Because we realize what we’ve got only after its gone. And it does go. It does. Then, when we think about those moments of joy; these thoughts are the ones which lead us into a deluge of rapture and plain, innocent happiness. Memories- the only thing that stays back with us when all else has withered away, the only thing that we can cling on to, the only thing we wish so hard would materialize in the future.But when it does, and yes it does, we just don’t notice it.

So,this is sumthing that i have decided...whatever happens,ill note down every small n big thing that takes place in my life henceforth.i started off 2 weeks back and even today,when i read about the 1st day of my diary,i can feel the life of that moment.
A different issue here as blog works like an 'e-diary' and i would have written some things very lucidly,but for the boy.he is the brainy,witty types who can understand things mentioned in cryptic manner. i will have to spend hours after writing sumthing here,explaining it to him what i exactly meant by 'those' things..he he..so,to avoid future conveniences..i shall write about things distinctly close which have touched me in some way or the other..yet very distant,not revealing the identity!

a 'yoohoo' back to u,boy!this was for him who had the audacity to even doubt about my art!

i am very much here..right in front of you.perhaps,its you whos having a tough time knowing people around you!after all,the real package always comes as a surprise,isnt it?

-the girl.

here we go!

so here i start the blog from my side..as he said,its a joint blog..one part being him n other,moi.with no experience of blogs whatsoever,i still cannot believe i fell for an idea of a 'joint' blog.
i always wondered why i found my problems unique,faced by noone else but me..coz they r different for all,which r solved differently by different people..the catch isnt the conclusion,its the process..different process!
so here we are..trying to do sumthing different.lets hope it'll be successful..

-the girl.