Tranquility

Another day passing by. Passing by while I look outside the window 'how beautiful the World has been, or was or can be!'. Another moment slips by without realizing that once gone it will be never back again. May be it will be captured in my mind as a calm serene tranquility. Peaceful as the shadow of a mango tree on a harsh summer afternoon when I heard the wind sing to me. The chorus was framed far away by the bell in a cow's neck. I saw those dry grass streaks rustling and whispering that this moment too is passing by.

The fearless moments that I have enjoyed within myself seem to be reborn every time I remember those calm moments. I am sure you had your share of them, don't you love to weave them in paintings, in words, or in your pictures? The moment that gave you a sense of relief from the tiredness, so real. I feel that the people that I know are slipping away, may be it is a magic trick played by my thoughts just to confuse me. I do not know if I have enough chips on my side to raise that blind but I would love to. I would love to see them coming back to me, some time - some moment where we could ride the bicycle as effortlessly as we used to do or swim to the other side of the river and look how tiny others look from this side.

It has become a fast paced, goal based life where these moments are a rare thing. I experience them at times when I am lying down on my couch on a lazy Saturday afternoon, just by myself listening to an old song. It is rare alright but it is worth fighting for. Or when I splash the water on my face while in the shower and there it is that homely feeling, ecstasy. Cherish it while it lasts, search for it until your feet give you the road. 

Letting go...

Now a days, with the thought of what others would think of my thoughts I have limited expressing, literally. I feel like a lost elephant in a new jungle. This comes to me as a shock, that even this blog seems like a page borrowed page from someone which I might have to return back. The drawn pictures, the wet leaves cease to exist. As a dear friend had mentioned "I hate short-talks".

I am feeling a bit nostalgic of the times in Mumbai. I am missing the stupid times I have had enjoyed at IIT Powai's Lake House. It was not only a spot where we went recluse but also enjoyed being silent for a change. The crazy dancing, singing and future plans were all witnessed by those moments. Rohit's adventure with his new camera, bike rides, swaying platform on the lake and Pizza party are so fresh in memory. Most visited address searched in the google of my brain. 

I am still confused with how people act situational, me included!! Is the algorithm scribbled in the same way for everyone? Yesterday this fact led me into a long discussion with a couple of friends. This discussion brought me to the same conclusion "don't expect anything from anyone and you are better off". GoSo are you listening? 

Life has slowly become like an artifact which is absorbed with the colors of past. When the colors were wet and the canvass blank, it was glorious. I want a new page on this canvass so that I can start a new adventure. May be it also signifies that I get lost with the small things in life. Get too people centric. Too mechanical. 

PS: As I mention the drawn pictures, I remember the college bag of Ninzee. A mechanical form of Lord Ganesh was drawn on it. Wonder what rules the mind of that artist?

New things, old things

Well, funny it is. Life, I mean. So many new things to experience that the list and time seem endless. Wait for a moment and the demon called Nostalgia catches your collar. Its like jumping from a cliff for an endless experience and waiting for life. Well, I don't intend to be serious here. 

I am tired of being philosophically boring person. But my head and heart work in a symbiotic or chaotic way and make me be this way. I know its raw, but it does not burn to be chaotic at times, right? 

In recent times, I keep missing the road that ran in front of my engineering college. No particular reason, but the view was breath-taking, especially in winters. You could see the 'Satpura' ranges covered by haze. The bridge on the road was an incubator for new ideas, which are old now. Everything about college was so different the last time I went there, but it was all still the same. The same place where I learnt many lessons about life and forgot a few. Travelling on a moped without light, on a moonlit night. 

Richard Bach's theories are still appealing. So is 'The Alchemist' and the idea of travelling for unknown. But that's what we do, always. Keeping ventured, being venturer and looking for new ventures is a natural progression, which we keep challenging to make our life complicated. Wanna live it simple, just one moment at a time? 

Drum beats are enthralling just like surging heart beats. New bands have different tunes, which connect with the same me. I have so much to soak myself in. I still dream about bungee-jumping, sky diving and bike ride, all the time. Needs are so different from wants. Keeping mouth-shut is not always painful, just tricky. To each his own, these are just random thoughts.

Simple Ponderings

Can the past be foregone, just like a dark night?

Can memories orphaned, for being out of sight?

Can trust be broken, for a self's might?

Can the doors left closed, waiting for night to turn bright?

Fading shades of Nostalgia

The emotional urge of visiting and re-visiting the past is so strongly needled in our tattooed brains that we just drag ourselves in the dungeons of illusions. The colors of happiness, success, love, pain, wrath and fear linger in the hearts, for the past has so many different window panes to see through. The tall buildings built on the pillars of memoirs are surely the best architectural witnesses of our choices. Remember the dome of security that you had carved with the chisel of love? It still stands and show me the colors you got for the evening!!

The hurled stone in the water still has ripples to be offered which can quake the reality of your world. The stamped coin lying on the train track is still hot by the heat and friction and has the fragrance of the early morning. The climbing hill still has the same gradient in your mind that it had when you got scarred as you fell down. The dark clouds, the floating logs, twisting and hugging leaves, the wet scent of first rains, little steps of your sibling, story with happy endings and the pregnant mango tree are still engraved in some corner of your mind, ready to be unleashed. The settled dust on the past is just like the magic casted by a magician on a childish summer afternoon. All it takes is a brush and a mind of child and not any great archaeologist.

The dashboard of forgotten fantasies still blinks high in the dark night and it has so much to add to. The crooked finger of your grandpa which you held more tightly than your dropping candy on a summer afternoon can never be forgotten. Angry voices in your head when you were torn between your head and heart as a child, still emerge through the grey clouds of youth. Fear of losing those you loved most is still as gripping as the memory of a train blast.

Though the past has so much to offer, it becomes necessary to move on. For the present holds so many promises for a new future just like a beautiful virgin lady. Though the taste of your grandma's recipe is still deliciously tasty what your future offers is what you can have. For by-gones are by-gones. Holes on a sea shore, whirlpools in the water, casted shadows on a dark night, early morning light in the winter. Blind alleys in a new town, first page of a new handbook, impression of the wooden ruler, chalk dust in eyes, demanding friends, stomach-aching laughter are all yours just like pillars of a dome.

After B comes C

Ok! I know the title would be looked as a something like red umbrella on a summer morning. But its quite apt if you think of it. And I am surely not talking about elementary English or B schools here.

I had been a great follower of the Canadian romantic singer BAD (Bryan Adams). Not that I have stopped listening to his great compositions which start from climbing Empire State to Running the night to get back to the lover. Its just that I have added another flavor of a band called as Coldplay. Some people will say that they don't sing well, I cant agree more for a few songs but the words that they color their songs with are like a blessing in disguise. You can so easily connect with them that you feel like you could have written something similar.

Yellow is one such song. The lyrics give goose bumps difficult to keep to yourself. When I heard the simple yet profound words like 'I drew a line, I drew a line for you,..., and it was all Yellow' I was lost in the beauty of simplicity. The strumming of strings is so evident that you feel the vibrations and if you have seen the video you remember the changing background as the song progresses. Feels like remembering your first morning after somebody said 'Yes' to you, rays entering your window and the warmth they bring on a winter morning. However simple an idea is, if put across better it can surely 'turn into something beautiful'.

Happened to watch the video of 'In my place' today. Again an example of how the band is gaining popularity. Just watching the mellowed Whiteness in the room is so appealing. Clouds walking through the crack of your door, occupying the space, feeling the emptiness with sheer love. The pain in the voice singing 'Crossed lines that I shouldn't have crossed' is as shrilling as the noise of a hammering nail. Something scratching against your window but you like it for the pain it imparts in the evening orange. 'Come back and sing it to me' is what your heart will sing out when the music pauses just before the lines start.

X & Y, is another master-piece, literally. You will say its very painful. Yes it is but the desperation to stop the ticking bomb exploding is evident in the wordings and approach for it is AWESOME. Music again wins hands down. You will have the same feeling of 'Vertigo from U2' just that it wont be as loud. A perfect song on a Sunday morning with nothing but your bike to accompany you. Ok, thanks for reminding me again that I don't have one. :)

Every song gives a feeling of floating in the pool when the rains falling in your eyes. Something like poking ray on a Saturday afternoon, straight through the drapes on the window. I am sure that with every dropping second the fan following of this band is growing leaps and 'Ka-chings'. But they deserve every penny of a sensitive fella on the street. Complete 'Paisa-Vasool'.

PS: Watch the video of 'Don't Panic'.

Walk through the Streets!!!

Its a Sunday morning!! Streets wet and no one else, than dogs, on the streets!! The walk is like discovering a new scattered Pandora of emotions!!

I watch the small barred windows through the red bricked walls. The red color peeling off the bars like pastel colors giving off the colored glass!!! I remember the small fingers curling around them, after a fight with mother unless she would come and lift the little one. He fighting not to leave and she fighting to hug him.

The old trees greet the passers by as if old friends!!! Their leaves flashing, hanging and signifying life in different shades!! Their bark getting bigger as my Grandpa's belly. I remember my Grandma shouting and teasing him for the big tummy. She would invain try to wake him and force him for walk and catch him after two days eating "Chat" around the corner. A great relation, like old pickle.

The falling wall of my neighbourhood home has been a regular feature now. Even my friends have stopped questioning if someone stays there!! I remember the kids running, climbing the stairs of that old mansion. That place had my favorite hiding place. A place that would give me the guarantee that I would be the last one found in the game!! A great companion during the not-so-good moments. I wonder what will happen to it and how it has managed surviving without me?

The blind curve at the end of the street was like a spot from where we would leave hands and walk like good kids. Off course we were good and all but holding hands is still a No-No with elder ones around. The touch that I would crave through out the day just to be with for few moments. The pinches that my hands would have to suffer when she saw me feasting otherwise!!! You know what I mean :) . All those daily talks, smiles, fights and small things which would mean the world are a passe now!!

Streets are much more than the roads that join one place to other. They are the place where you can easily spot your childhood when you see a dad picking his son when he has fallen down, a girl taking a breath after a continuous talk with her mother. Time goes by but what remains are the beautiful memories. An inseparable part of being what I am !! So happy to have all of them for existence!!