By evening, (it’s when I wake up) it’s violet…all over.
And BANG! The light goes out, which (ironically) makes things more beautiful. As
December wears on, the weather in Islamabad is getting (un)pleasantly dry in a
horribly cold way. Winters’ keen tooth bit me too, among others’. And I have
been sniffing and coughing ever since. I wake up…and brush my teeth and just
feel this insane urge to slap my cheeks with the aftershave. I look in the
mirror and then I look away and look in the mirror again, then I look away
again, feeling worse. (Did you know that the objects in mirror are always
farther than they appear?) I get dressed and comb my hair. And then look in the
mirror again. ‘Why don’t I look devastatingly handsome anymore?’. ‘But still
something, eh!’, ‘Or maybe, too sharp?’. And so I rid my head of my anxieties
and insecurities for a while. As I shake it.
Nom. Nom. Nom. Munch. Munch. Munch. Pancakes. Just one
large bite on each slice does it. As though chewing the wood with iron teeth (if
that’s even legit). Reaching at work. Occupying the station. Few games of Table
Tennis. Two cups of my imperfect tea. Few strangers ogling as if I have come
from the Mars (They can’t possibly know that, can they?). I go through the day
(or should I say…night?) just like that. But last night, being a rebel that I
am, I bought an icecream but just after just a few licks, few drops of drizzle
ruined it but I still licked the leftover crummy slush of sweet cream and water
shamelessly. I hang with usual people with unusual accents. That crack newer
jokes. Talk loud. And put on big smiles. All this while, I keep on thinking if
I cross someone’s mind…somewhere out there? Or just a passing thought?
Something about me? Never knowing what’s happening or should I even fix this? I
don’t even know what’s absent? What need to be fixed? Anything? Nothing? Or maybe everything?
You have the same peachy face after all this time, only a bit wrinkly now. You still drink in every lifelike nonsense no matter how irrelevant. I still see the tender folly and bright violet wandflowers adorned with myriad love in your tawny-brown eyes. The same somber expressions but surprisingly cheery when you feel like it, strangely mellow on some days - especially on rainy days, glowering when you read or write, deep in thought when you listen to your favorite songs and endlessly vacant when you walk. You have subtly deepened in a manner that I have too. And it's cute how you don't try to hide your teeth anymore when you laugh. Only your blackish-brown hair has changed in color, they seem faintly light and weak. Your dresses are still more stylish than you are but not a lot of people know about that. And humor, still hard to get but then, I have the same problem too. You're unearthly, lost in your own literary world, I love the songs that you sing in your enchantingly wild voice as you play the uke. And how you smell the old, frayed pages of the books before you read them. You're you and I live in a beautiful world.
Meager life, ample emotions –– and still it’s illicit. No, you can’t be happy for so long, no, you can’t be unhappy for so long. It’s illicit to live that way, you must fluctuate! You must fall, rise, lurch, dash, fall again and so on. And something known as “self-command” is a vague perception of nothingness, at least for me. I never felt it. Is it because I never wanted to be controlled by anyone even by me?
Karma, go to the blazes for all I care! Punishment is mine.
For I’m a fainéant being hence I must procrastinate it – again. I do not know what I am thinking, I do not know why I am thinking – whatever is – that I’m thinking, I do not know what I am doing and why I am doing and on a serious note, I do not want to know. Is it wrong? Whatever I’m thinking, for I can’t express it. Is it bad? ….. Is it normal? Or just forget it because you won’t understand.
Shillyshallying it again for I’m a fainéant being. Just give me the perfect cushion to fall for, I’m going to hell anyway.
Oftentimes, I really wish, life could be as easy as the table of 2. I remember when I was kid, how blithely I would sing, ‘two ones are two –, two twos are four’ and so on with a marvelous feeling that something on the face of the earth –– could be this much easy. But, it’s not the table of 2 –– it’s life.
Everyone face bruises, don’t you? [I want you to nod your approval here so that I might feel a bit sane] because I hear humans do. Martians do too, just look at me [=P].
Everyone build ‘castles-of-sand’ and only sometimes they don’t crumple.
You’ll see strange and yet usual affairs here, sometimes you’ll find a bird who wouldn’t fly out of an opened cage, you’ll meet people with solid masks on their faces –– disguised just to go with the flow, who wouldn’t even look like humans, you’ll see unicorns in your villages jumping in the ponds too, okay that’s a bit farfetched.
I wanted to say,
You can at times end up doing stupid things when your ‘castle-of-sand’ crumples. I mean that is legal, right?
I know some people are cursing me secretly – for the recent good (not really) deed I’ve made my angels record in my ‘amal nama’ by deactivating my twitter account, which I regret, really.
And today I feel obliged to thank some special visitors of My Time Capsule for making me feel ‘something-really-good’ throughout the whole lifetime of this place up till now.
She’s simple yet the most beautiful human being on the planet Earth and Jupiter (according to her), the regular and [lol] loyal reader =P of my pathetic Time Capsule. And yes! She’s always there for the advisory business. *whispers* She thinks she knows everything, and um, I think the same…….almost. You don’t mind, do you? Of course you don’t. Thank you Princess for your nonstop feedback. =)
My first ever fan, not only because she is my best friend (She said that =P), the first ever non-bot comment on MTC was hers. She thinks she is going to be the president of this country, and she also thinks I am a good poet, tell me about it. I believe you'll read it someday. So, thank you so much for being the first ever genuine visitor.
It always snows when she is around, not literally though and yes! She is cooler than me and every one of you who is reading this post or not. Thank you Tazeen! =) And I’m sorry, I will find a better nickname for you, ‘cause I think fat cat sounds kind of outdated, 'and you see, I’m not that rancorous'. I tried reading whole Wuthering Heights just to know about Mr. Heathcliff. [=P] But for some reason I gave up after reading 25% of the book. So, Tazeen, thanks a lot. =)
She is older than me but she somehow reminds me of my childhood. Anyway, the coolest nerd I’ve ever seen, the fickle thing with the blog of same nature as hers. And I think she can take over this country. Xehra, thank you so much –– for so many praises, for the post in which you recommended my page with a rib-tickling cartoon in green shirt who was supposed to be me –– attached to it and for the advice regarding writing an English Text Book –– for preschoolers. =) Thank you. =)
The guy I used to hate caboodles turned out to be the direct opposite of what –my perception about him was, surprisingly, I was wrong – totally. This person always thinks about others’ happiness for no reason. 2nd best person I’ve ever seen. And good thing, he likes my Time Capsule, he once told me… No seriously, he likes it, ask him. He’s just like my brother, a bit insane one though. He can always ‘screw’ people just to amuse them, trust me.
And thanking all the people who have ever visited this Time Capsule of mine! =) (only if you don’t know me personally).
And then Autumn passed by –– And He took it all away…!
“Their secret’s been revealed –– Yet they have told no other”
I give up before I even think about starting it. Such diffidence – I have not experienced.
There’s so much in grate to combust for –– that can lighten up the whole series of the darkest nights.
But still, there’s an invisible push –– the lethal weight pressing down on me like a rotten society’s slants that keeps one low –– low as a thrall, grasps one by one’s wings, plucks its feathers oftentimes and –– keeps one low, in the dwelling –– from flying.
The hands, –– as transparent as water, as mighty as a lion, as keen as an owl, as nimble as a deer, press me downwards in a hallow hole –– in an abyss so deep that it takes centuries to fall and once I fall painlessly, it presses down on me even more inside the shallow rubbles until I penetrate them and get swallowed up by the abyss and eventually forget –– everything I once remembered.
I’m done with hoping, I’m done with dreaming, I’m done with trying.
Let’s pretend now. “Look what I’ve found… A raw hope – a wingless bird!”
Let’s walk with it – till we part.
And because, it feels good… Somehow, it makes me want to walk. Somehow… someway, I like to walk, when I’m with you.
Such lonely lives in togetherness! Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!
And ultimately the push will say: “Cull the no-hopers from the herd!”
Lord can do anything – and He does it adeptly for our own good. Lord loves His – mankind seventy times more than a mother loves her children.
Let the hope not nestle low with the broken ruby wings for He is invariably and perpetually with you. We might dislike at times – the ways He chooses for us to pass through the tracts of life – but if we keep faith then the harvesting turns out fruitfully good – eventually.
Just heed to what He says to you –– what He wants you to do –– how He wants you to do.
Sometimes there can be no reason to smile, but smile…
For you have –
Another sun to see, a new day to look forward to…
How ill-disobedient you become when you think you’re alone.
***
And for you and me, I have this, my dearest.
As dainty as a pipit –– a hankering –– for an eternity
The moment –– stretches more – and seems a century
Tick drop tock drip tick drop tock drip was what one could hear in that shallow twilight. The noise of the wall-clock and the leaking pipe in the bathroom –– was quite grudgingly harsh to him in that silent twilight.
It wrote, “I prevail. I prevail –– as a lowly slave.” “It’s passing, it’s consuming me from inside and outside –– the times –– tabooed times.”
Another second passed, followed by another – the hand moved and went on, and then trembled a minute – and a minute melted into an hour followed by another hour and hours and hours.
It wrote, “I’ll bend space and gravity, only if...”
The visions – blurred, emotions numbed and a sob unthinkingly was heard. It slightly shed off the eye and made a way for the others to come; some followed it while others made their own ways. The tears they were, gleaming waterfalls against the room-light from the dark one could see. Trickling twinkles. Tick tock, drip drop. Teardrops embellished the cheeks like stars do to the sky.
Sobs.
The thunders of restlessness rumbled all over the place.
It wrote, “My thirst for you has become vampiric.”
The night had risen over the world and covered it like a shawl. The night it was. The dark and the room-light and…
A broken heart, a pain –– seared,
It wrote again, “I’d dive far below the oceans… I’d fly far above the clouds… only if…”
“None is to be blamed, oh my love. I hope you’re fine. I hope.”
Silent in disbelief, with awkward clingy emotions – he was. At square one – he was. He was.
The death each moment – he embraced.
Music played: “With every kiss and every hug you’ve made me fall in love.” And silence crept again. Tick, drip, tock, drop, tick, drip, tock, drop, tick, drip, tock, drop…
It wrote then, “Only if I could lie within your soul and mind… and in your arms.” And, “I’d sell it all… all my materialistic treasures.”
Music played: “Tum bin jaa’un kahan, ke dunya mein aa ke – kuch nehi chaha….”
The swollen eyes watered the sear cheeks again. The heart moaned. And then it wiped off them, all of them.
[What does he hide? Behind those scarred humid eyes.]
And it wrote, “You are my strength, and I shall keep the promise, I shall never fall apart, I shall mend my heart, even before it breaks.” “I shall keep the promise and you will keep it too.” “I hear, miracles happen.” Hand trembled, but he continued in imperfections. “For roses can bloom amongst the wrinkled rocks.” “For water can spurt in oasis in midst of deserts” “And if needles and threads could not do it, I shall mend it with love –– that is still alive.” “Distances are mere a frail thread, our love is the robust string.”
The night was young, but the feelings were feeble.
Tock, drop, tick, drip, tock, drop, tick, drip…
The night kept on growing. Seconds passed. Minutes passed. Hours gone by. And a dewdrop fell from the heaven on a leaf outside his window; it smiled at him and fell asleep on that very leaf, he saw it sleeping and waited for the sun to rise.
And then the sun fought its way up the horizon. Beams came in from the window and he saw the halos. It was a new day, but the promise was the same.
And again he starts walking on the hazy lands through hilly and hollow paths towards the beacon that appears so far – so obscure in the denseness of fog, and the mere feel of cold-white-smoky-tuft on the scars taken from past is numbing the traveler, breaking away of the tensity is difficult. But he keeps on walking, and this time he falls down and doesn’t get up for a while. Clumsy his – abilities might be, but he eyes there at the top of the mountain – there! The beacon calls. He leads again, grunts in pain and starts figuring out the path. The path is so blue and cold, with no lightening bugs in it, he can’t even figure out where the end is and where the start. Hindrance of time and toils – alone are good enough to make him fall down – give up. And now he bleeds, old scars taken from the dark pages of the ruthless past open their eyes to the cold fog, the blood seems to freeze and it pains infinite and he wishes to fall. He sways and swoons, falls on the misty dust, tries to crawl and slightly moans but is injured badly in the isolated journey, no one to save him, no one to cure the ailments. The beacon calls, but his eyes are shut, and he sees, the promises he made, the full moons of those nights spent with his better half he loved the most, the memories he saved, the giggles once he heard, the chirps and laughter are now a flickering flame that is fogged and tattered in the fog now.
There can be no good reason to fall down. You have to, sometimes, to start it all again perfectly. But falling down isn’t necessary, you can start it all again at any stage/turn/signal.
Increase in your hate-list doesn’t bother anyone, what bothers is being in ignore list.
There are some things in life, that can’t be changed –– undone. Sometimes, you don’t get the second chances.
Being alone/numbed is like a mask, that we put on for sometime and then put it off, then put it on again and so on.
Worrying about future is like ruining the present.
Mistakes are supposed to be made, trying is important; not trying at all is like, wrapping a gift and not giving it.
There are some things, that can’t be foreseen, or sometimes we don’t want to.
Making no friends or forgetting old friends is at times good hobby.
Seeking attention should not be my thing.
Stick to what you want to do, they’ll not be there to see the consequences.
Losing important documents is not a cool thing.
Rain and mornings sometimes are good.
Crushing is a lot easier and magical than falling in love.
Worrying about your abilities can take you at the top of the ladder.
Being isolated and alone is better than being surrounded by people if you want to be something in your life.
Secrets should not exist except for few.
Praying to God is like lightening the load, I should do it.
I should not ruin my poems, no matter how awful they are.
I am not born to be a loser.
It’s better being nice than rude.
Crushing crunchy leaves is the most attractive thing I’ve ever experienced.
"You are an epic failure, who couldn’t even get his things fixed uptil this day? Day of harvesting!" I hear her saying with a bitter glare and I nod.
So silently, that I start hearing the inner me. A sore tear trickles on the fluffy carpet. And visions yet again come before the closed eyes as ever.
I, whose edges of sanity are always tinged with illusions and confusions. From whence – my delusion deposited in me the harshness and the bitterness – how can I get it fixed?
Beckoning are these major stunning lights of fascinating sinful, beautiful city and yet I resist – I strain – to free her grip from my wrist – wiggle and squirm, wrestle and twist…
And still she pulls me in the crowd – and introduces me with her friends – wearing the solid masks - despair. I even hate the first sight of life. I am not born for this – not for that – not for her – not for you but for this which starts from S and ends with E – the solitude.
Relentlessly pulling – my hand towards the people, she has the epic love for me, that can make my death so peaceful and heavenly, but I am silly or genius. And I try to flee, I can’t break away – the tension – Igniting as – now I want to stay and now as – I break through to sanities side – my eyes leak obtusely – as I realize, the place I’ve come back to… Is chock full of lies…
But I don’t want to stay, leave me, I love thee and I hate it. I am overwhelmed with anger on being piteous and yet feel piteous on being raging and then this monster – hatred comes – as I sprinkle it on both feelings, and I still have this monster – I’m opening the cage… But don’t go! I want you to hate you; I love you to hate you. I am the darkness lost in night, find me.
By Bahadur Hussain (Published in Us, The News International) July 09, 2010.
As if a pile of dirt - tramples my heart As if a deep abyss - calls my name And leaves me - a reason to fall apart As if shackled in - sore cold chain And I still live in - that dwelling of past In those snows of love in the year - last When thy departure seemed - ail in frost...
And it kills a part of me each time Ailing from inside Ailing from outside But where will I go and hide? If the dwelling is built in my mind... But I have so many delights to see Apart from this longing to be free From the cold shackles In such a life - not ample And of eternal longing Of happiness... Yet another illusion
It seems those things weren’t even in my blood, flairs perch in my mind and then fly away. My faith shakes for once I had the flair of touching apex in what I was determined to do. My faith shakes, when I feel unable to do this thing. If my faith shakes more, I shall quit. I cannot live in earthquakes…
Stare at my burning The fiery shadows dance Stare at my escape
The smoke carries me Strung together the gray floats My ashes fly free
The cycle furthers This life is harsh and deadly Learn to die freely
Life is too lazy yet a race, I hear every one’s concepts about it. Some call it a quest for purpose; some call it competition and those who have no purpose call it mere breathing, hence it all makes it versatile. For some the best life is the one which is executed everywhere. I shall wander off to everywhere, until I find you.
“Life is unjust”, “my life sucks badly” and “I’m curse”. That’s what I hear almost everywhere. I want to say that too, but when I think of what I think when I see such words, then I stop myself from saying that, 'cause it sounds hilariously pathetic, very very badly laughable! And maybe that's why I want to stick to this problem until it gets over tho' I'm pretty lazy about constructive things but still I must conquer the negativity; and I’m pretty sure that it is also one of those oft-heard pathetic sounding statement to you – the happy people (I am not comparing). But just imagine a life of a genius – misunderstood, a life full of flairs and hard lucks. And loneliness seems an outdated way of expressing one's boredom to you – the happy people (I am not comparing), ‘tis not, taste it if you ever can.
Today, I literally have zero friends if we count, zero percent sibling support, zero joy, boredom all the time. I never cried like this before. Ugh! I’m pathetic. Must suck! I thank God – Allah for this life and further, I do not have any complaints. I must get myself busy somewhere.
P.S. I am good at insulting! Beware! And Ah? Fajr prayers call - Azzaan! wow! I'm too sleepy too write anything positive with this. P.P.S. I am writing all this with half eyes closed and full brain shut. Ma'azrat!
Sigh. Major sigh rather! I don't want to sound like a pathetic emo boy AKA long-haired-loser from now on ‘cause now I have learnt that I should always look at the bright side of every happening. Recently, I did the majorest (superlative of major) blunder by forgetting my roll number card at home on the very first paper! (I didn’t know my roll no. It was very long, more like some phone number) and the first word that came out of my mouth when I checked my bag and every pocket was something that rhymes with “Luck” and the other was that rhymes with “Land lord”, “gain-ford” or “main-chord” Okay! You get the point! Right? So I puked during the exam What?? I do it in nervousness, I can’t help! But good thing, I ran towards the bathroom without even asking otherwise, it would have been havoc… And the next paper was also bad one it was computer and it looked like an object code (Computer language in binary numbers) to me, it went horrible again! Instead of grumbling stuff like, why me? and I’m a curse etc I looked at the bright side, which was “I didn’t puke that day! Ahaa!” :D (My baba is very proud of me :P) No really I cannot recall even one day when things went my way, the day I can call perfectly awesome day, (Except for the Economics paper it rocked!) Okay so, my first paper went like this,
It was a fine sunny morning, butterflies were flying in my tummy and my exam was 2 hours away. I was excited and tensed at the same time. So, I read the horoscopes to distract myself, I swear Gemini said ”What a brilliant day you are going to have, success is yours today and money will come worries will go blah blah" my smile broadened and wrinkles lessened. I departed late for the college, 'cause I wanted to look at all the formulas again. I had been preparing for that paper since like forever ‘cause mathematics is my nightmare and digits and formulas can scare me to death, therefore, I had to do the best. And I don't know how but I forgot my roll no. card in the final math exam. I reached at college finally, excited! And then I checked my bag and all the pockets but my roll no. card was no where to be seen! OH MY GOD! (Censored curses and abusive language!!!) They didn't allow me to sit for one hour until my baba came along with the card! I was very nervous. I puked during the exam (in the bathroom) my hands were shivering on paper, my handwriting was being gay. And if I wanted to press 3 on calculator, I pressed 6 every time them backspaced then pressed 3! I forgot the simplest formulas i.e Harmonic mean and Correlation & Regression and I couldn't believe it! And it was 3 AC-ed small room, smaller than my bed room (no hall :-O) and I'm phobic to cold (You must have read my poem Winter phobia :P). I somehow managed to ask in a shivering voice if they could switch off the cold sprayers! More like death sprayers to me! But others opposed. I was HELPLESS, FRIENDLESS loser, I felt pathetic! And it was 10th of this month. I never pray to God in exams! Because I think it'd be gaudy and mean to only pray in exams like when I need Him (the most). This time I did! But what I got was this baddest (worst) day of my life. I cried my eyes out after exam in my locked room to the point I thought I was about to burst and wished to God to make me die, I wanted to hit by a bus. I never want to die actually but I just muttered that I don’t know why Time to write another painful, nihilistic, emo and gloomy poem, I did and ruined it. And then the day passed - consumed by twilight-consumed by night-consumed by dawn like every another day. And I witnessed the new sun that smiled at me and sprinkled the hot and loving beams upon me, I hoped for better.
I have now stopped saying the phrases like prayers needed, wish me luck and stuff. And I’m not going to read horoscope again in my whole life and I shall never let my kids and wife to read them.
My 5 papers are done and 3 are left! (Five cats rescued and three to go :P)
Very gloomy story, right? What if it was a mere one leaf from the diary! The Book of Vincent :P Scary na?
Some people have started calling me “Chalta phirta bad-luck” and “trouble” etc. But no heed no encouragement for them!
But I now don’t look at the dark side, Instead of the dark I look for the light, Instead of cry I look for laughter, Instead of solitude, I look for friends, Instead of death, I look at life. I have learnt that,
Blunders just happen Faith should not be shaken Never feel broken Enough is taken If the wrong road is taken Don’t lose the token ‘Cause the road not taken Think, was godforsaken
Miley Cyrus in her movie Hannah Montana said, “Life is a climb, but the view is great.” Whoever wrote this I shall love her/him forever (ahm ahm) If she is a girl or woman then I’ll love her more, romantically as well as aaiwain (Don’t judge!).
And “The Climb” by Miley Cyrus. That’s my song from now on, the anthem of encouragement and consolation you can say! (And I shall love Miley Cyrus for this song forever)
Lyrics: I can almost see it. That dream I'm dreaming, but There's a voice inside my head saying You'll never reach it Every step I'm takin' Every move I make Feels lost with no direction, My faith is shakin' But I gotta keep tryin' Gotta keep my head held high
There's always gonna be another mountain I'm always gonna wanna make it move Always gonna be an uphill battle Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose Ain't about how fast I get there Ain't about what's waitin' on the other side It's the climb
The struggles I'm facing The chances I'm taking Sometimes might knock me down, but No I'm not breaking I may not know it, but These are the moments that I'm gonna remember most I've just gotta keep goin', and I gotta be strong Just keep pushing on, but
There's always gonna be another mountain I'm always gonna wanna make it move Always gonna be an uphill battle Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose Ain't about how fast I get there Ain't about what's waitin' on the other side It's the climb
There's always gonna be another mountain I'm always gonna wanna make it move Always gonna be an uphill battle Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose Ain't about how fast I get there Ain't about what's waitin' on the other side It's the climb
Keep on movin' Keep climbin' Keep faith baby It's all about, it's all about The climb Keep the faith, keep your faith, woah
P.S I posted the same story as a comment on some related post I saw somewhere last night just to share the experience!
Horizon is about to swallow the sun. It is spilling the beautiful orange shades upon the clouds alongside the sun. And moon with its glow – is to take control in the sky and the falling water is shimmering and reflecting the pale and full moon and the flashing stars on the pearly shawl of the earth. This day has faded and night has grown after twilight like every day. And with this night - this feeling is growing inside me, it happens often, maybe depression. It is slowly starting to bite, a kind of restlessness, I don’t know what? Some flashbacks, some voices, are haunting my mind, wait a minute! What are those eyes doing here? I know them, those eyes full of love, even bluer than the skies above of one fine evening. Looking at me at dagger point, what eyes? pointed like sword in a seductive way. But I thought no more is that those eyes’ gaze was seductive for me. Things – apparently, have changed! I thought I’d moved on, but it seems that I was and still not completely over, still stuck somewhere in her memories, I have got to take control of my life. Where are my giggles? The glimpses of my hurting past are still within my every vision.
So I sliced myself into two, to escape from all the painful frigid gloom, and gave a piece to this cruel and ruthful moments and other to my happiness - ‘so called’ and imaginary. I have never been happy with life and if I have been, it was for sometime. They say rise and fall is the part of life but I say if the fall is often and more than the rise then it becomes a crutchy life, a life in fog and in uncertainty all the time. You often happen to think you are alone even amid the bustles. If you make blunders you care less about them because nobody taught you how to care, nobody cared about you before. The bright side takes a lot of happiness but the happiness looks a mere grain of sand when compared to the ample deserted beach of the gloomy side. I never wanted to die and still I don’t want to but I am not keen of living either. Life is not ample but the events are. I just want to feel the real love by them, the real happiness, the real sun’s happy beams and I want to live in the real smiles, in the real beauties of life and nature and with the feeling of there-is-no-burden and I’m-free-from-cares. So, I shall apply law of equi-marginal utility but it has drawbacks like every hope I have ever hoped. Utility cannot be measured but life can be. Similarly, nature – my love cannot be measured but my life can be.
I just want to say, life is not enough, so gain most using least. Life is once and very beautiful, live every part of it, the gloom the light. Every style of it, the poor, the rich. Every taste of it, the conservative, the moderate. You have no time; just complete all your answers before the examiner comes and asks to return the answer sheet. As Emily Dickinson would put in: I had no time to hate- Because The grave would hinder me- And life was not so ample So I could finish - enmity-
Nor had I time to love – But since Some industry must be – The little Toil of love – I thought Be large enough for me-
How is it living a life when everything you see is actually not what you see... when moon is just a yellow apple - sun is but a burning disco ball - life is but a sleep and forgetting - if those twinkling eyes of your beloved are mere a pair of marbles - if you could make roads in lakes and lakes in roads - if you could shatter the moon and divide the pieces among the needy - if you could make a witch out of a tree and if you can fly without the wings on magic carpets if you could make a parrot sing heavenly songs and if you could scare the scarecrow and make it run away from the fields! If you could amuse a goat and if you could make it laugh... But still they ask...Why do I scribble about the enigma of fog, about the frown of rose ringed-parakeet.. about crimson pain... What mad person...?
Words -my poetic woes Zilch and nihilistic I --- alone in such infinite world -- of words- And books --- my mystique- Beautifully written with blood, Meek and mild, Envied by materialization of dreams. Words --- sail in ocean --- hail from heaven Words --- night is dread --- stars are red-- Words --- no more clichés, no more antique- In randomization. Words --- come to me --- with sticking tongue Evilly yet lovingly then frighten me. Words --- needles and threads Meaningless epics. Words --- I do have not --- they do Love --- for me --- for you, My everything. To you --- for me --- mere a word. To her --- my woes are words To me --- are humans with brains Words --- fireflies of nights Shadows of noons --- twinkling of stars Aches of hearts --- sunsets and cries- Hellos and goodbyes --- words...
Fragrance of blossoms flies in the air, A lewd scent, enfolds the deep desire, And forces me to inhale in despair. My nose in pain from its alluring pyre An addicting chemical, the content, With each whiff brings death close, A poison! Not doubtfully devil sent, The portal to hell made in but one dose. I realize how evil its purpose is, And beg my soul for release of the smell. But death slowly comes, and with a quick kiss, Freezes the corpse in its enchanted spell. I lay on the ground, dead carcass and bare, Knowing I paid the price, the toll, the fare.
I don’t understand my mood. It swings in an instant like a flicker flicks. Bad, good, heartbroken, lonely, happy and all other moods of the world and sometimes all at the same time. Split personality is an other thing, my personality is split but not into two, into many! I know weird, yeah! Okay now I’m over with that violent rock music, It bores me now. Funny story lies here too, I loved the band My Chemical Romance for a week more than any thing and then I hated it more than any thing then last week I started loving it again now today it bores me! I think I’ll prefer Evanescence now. It happens more often in vacations, when I have nothing special to do! Weird ideas haunt my mind. So I, the friendless loser wrestle with my brain to find some ideas of passing time. And we (My brain and I) end up in doing some creative stuff like sketching, cooking, writing, poems, lyrics, listening to music, sometimes I feel like making music, then I strum guitar of the song “drowning lessons” lalala! Strange! I define myself with this word! Let me tell you about my today’s mood, it’s heartbroken, lonely, curious and exited at the same time! Funny! No? Actually, I can explain this mood like heartbroken is because I think I need my own car, lonely because my parents are out of station. Curious because of my result of my mid-term exams what they call them send-ups and finally I’m exited because I think I did a great job in exams and can’t wait for result. It’d be so cool. After all, It isn’t a bad feeling seeing your name on the top in result announcement sheet on the notice board. Well, if things don’t work out for me, then no problem I think I’m a tough guy and I’ll manage not seeing my on the top, 2nd and 3rd spots aren’t that bad, eh? *Mood swings* I’m feeling like an ambitious amateur! Why? That is because I under estimate myself quite often, keeping all the dreams in my mind and then seeing my abilities create a kind of fear. A fear of losing, I mean I have one life *philosophy starts* after 15 minutes, *blawblawblawblaw continues* and after 10 minutes, I need a polish, not boot polish! I need to polish my abilities along with my heart and soul with a good polish product, cherry blossom? !@#$%!!!!!!!! *Angry old man*.
I'm here to relax. Vent. Ponder. Riddle myself riddles. Lay out the random without obligation to inspire or finish my sentence.
B.H.
Of larger-than-life and humbler than a dirt-grain shape – of a mortal astoundingly touching the apex and pathetically biting the dust – of a below-ordinary and extraordinary brain – of erratic doings and clichéd ideas. Numerous adjectives could be embellished like the sparks on an illuminated Christmas tree – but – of extraordinary rise and fall would do the justice.
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