Have you ever heard the wind in your soul,
When it was taking you places?
Have you listened to the wind playing its role
In breaking you outta your cages.
Have you ever slid down a rainbow,
When you were trying to find the pot of gold?
Or did you merely follow
With a gold clothed blindfold?
Have you ever swum with the setting sun
Waving at the clouds a smiling goodbye
Or were you busy saving yourself from your burden
Will you live just once before you die.
Tell me baby, won’t you live just once?
Chop at your chains and untie
Scream once to break the deafening silence
Won’t you just live once before you die.
Have you ever tried to catch the rays of the moon,
When it was shining from afar?
Have you tried to scoop them up with a spoon,
To use them as strings for your guitar?
Have you ever listened to a butterfly,
Sharing with her, her secrets?
Or did you merely run after and try
To catch and cage her in baskets?
Have you ever, ever tried to live
Putting all your thoughts on standby
Not take but just give
Will you, just once before you die.
Tell me baby, won’t you live just once?
Chop at your chains and untie
Scream once to break the deafening silence
Won’t you just live once before you die.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
An angel's death
The angel spins around
dancing beneath the moon
crying her pretty eyes out
trying to cry them dry
she's sick of feeling pain
sick of pouring out the rain
Done with life,
Can an angel die?
She wonders silently
is it possible to close her eyes
and sleep in blissful misery
free to choose her own way
uncaged, unfurled, she will fly free
but its not her way
to leave you alone
at least not today
she dances in a meadow
the moon shining down
she thinks of you
and her tears fall free
why can't you love me?
What do you search for?
Will you find it?
She spins around and around
here beneath the half-moon
pouring her soul out through half-closed eyes, half-open heart
Sick of all this pain
Sick of crying in the rain
Will an angel die tonight?
dancing beneath the moon
crying her pretty eyes out
trying to cry them dry
she's sick of feeling pain
sick of pouring out the rain
Done with life,
Can an angel die?
She wonders silently
is it possible to close her eyes
and sleep in blissful misery
free to choose her own way
uncaged, unfurled, she will fly free
but its not her way
to leave you alone
at least not today
she dances in a meadow
the moon shining down
she thinks of you
and her tears fall free
why can't you love me?
What do you search for?
Will you find it?
She spins around and around
here beneath the half-moon
pouring her soul out through half-closed eyes, half-open heart
Sick of all this pain
Sick of crying in the rain
Will an angel die tonight?
Sunday, October 19, 2008
WHY WE WON'T QUIT SMOKING
BENEFITS OF SMOKING.
For years, we have heard, seen and read smoking is harmful. To say the least, we have been threatened, humoured, cajoled, ridiculed and sometimes, even ostracized. Once we were also accused of killing a horse. Well, here’s to all those know-it-alls, lets flip them the…er….stub and puff away. Because, finally there are some straws that we puffers can clutch at and wave them under the delicate smoke alarms, popularly called noses, of some people.
We smokers help control the population. After all, we don’t want our already burdened dear old Mother Earth caving in on herself with the extra weight. Smoking keeps our weight down and the population down. And this, all said and done, is a service to humanity.
We smokers are also responsible for the great advancement in medicine. Especially in fields related to cancer. All kinds of cancer. Not necessarily cancer that has its roots in smoking. Imagine the amount of money pouring in for this great cause. Imagine the pride with which our collective chests swell up when we hear that the great Lance Armstrong has saddled up again. His testicular cancer is a thing of a past. And yes, now we hear cancer is curable. Again, our chests swell up. And in no small measure due to the smoke.
We smokers are great role-models. Now, how many times have people pointed at us and said to their kids, you shouldn’t become like that? How many times, have we been the talking point of a family dinner? Yes, kids need people to look up to. At the same time, it is very important that they also look down upon some people. So that they know what not to become. And that dirty job, our dear friends, we do. And we do it without a thought of a reward. Without being felicitated at some function. We do it, because we smokers are by nature altruistic and we do it with a smile on our lips. And a wisp of smoke curling up from the corner of it.
We smokers are good for the environment. Especially now, with the whats-it-called Al Gore movie. It is but a popular calculation that, if we smokers quit and start saving that money, then we would able to buy a new car, every year. Well, no thanks. We smokers think, the world doesn’t need any more cars. Not with the global warming movies lurking around. We care about the environment. That’s why we smoke. So, that in a nut-shell means, you non-smokers are responsible for polluting the environment. Because, by your own calculations, we will never have enough money to buy a car. Let alone afford the fuel (at the current gas prices).
We smokers are less of a burden on our children. No wastage of money on old-age homes. On nurses. They don’t have to worry about spending quality time with us. Nor about leaving us behind alone at home when they go off on a vacation. Who needs vacations when you are 80 years old anyway? Or for that matter who needs 80 years? And anyway baby-sitters, nowadays, are far less demanding. And grandchildren far more so.
We smokers are better workers. We sleep less. At work and otherwise. Because as it is so well documented, smoking results in sleeping disorder. We take lesser time for lunch, if at all any. Because the above mentioned document also mentions loss of appetite. Like it or not, we smokers form the only close-knit community in a workplace. We share a bond that’s unspoken. Non-political. Undesignated. And it’s just so much easier to look pensive, thoughtful and on-the-verge of a path breaking idea on how to increase your company’s profitability with a cigarette clenched between your fingers and blowing smoke thought-bubbles.
We smokers are the solution to all wars and violence. For centuries we have been advocating this peaceful way to settle all disputes. But non-smokers seem much dafter & deafer than us. Anyway, we have already established that smoking kills. Hence, imagine this, why not have two armies face off on the battlefield and light up. Whoever survives, wins. It’s far less violent (also, second-hand bullets are slightly more hazardous to health any day). It’s far less cheap. It’s far better for the economies of the respective governments. And the soldiers get to go back home and meet their beloved family one last time. And yes, George Bush Jr. will never have to explain for the missing WMDs. After all, as non-smokers have observed time and time again, cigarettes are officially classified as WMDs.
And last but not the least.
We smokers will never be found guilty of rape. By any miniscule chance, you find yourself accused of rape by a jealous co-worker, or a disgruntled neighbour or even a psychopathic Ex. you will, rest assured, be let off scot-free. All you have to do is manage to ask for your favourite brand of smokes from the cigarette smoking cop in his white Rupa Vest as he is applying his beloved, well-polished malaca cane to the soles of your feet. After all, the same well documented, popular list of effects of smoking, also mentions smoking as a reason for impotency.
Hence, considering that we smokers are doing this for the greater good of mankind, its but a disgrace to ask us to desist from smoking. Because, whatever we might be, we are not quitters. We’d rather Die Than Quit!
For years, we have heard, seen and read smoking is harmful. To say the least, we have been threatened, humoured, cajoled, ridiculed and sometimes, even ostracized. Once we were also accused of killing a horse. Well, here’s to all those know-it-alls, lets flip them the…er….stub and puff away. Because, finally there are some straws that we puffers can clutch at and wave them under the delicate smoke alarms, popularly called noses, of some people.
We smokers help control the population. After all, we don’t want our already burdened dear old Mother Earth caving in on herself with the extra weight. Smoking keeps our weight down and the population down. And this, all said and done, is a service to humanity.
We smokers are also responsible for the great advancement in medicine. Especially in fields related to cancer. All kinds of cancer. Not necessarily cancer that has its roots in smoking. Imagine the amount of money pouring in for this great cause. Imagine the pride with which our collective chests swell up when we hear that the great Lance Armstrong has saddled up again. His testicular cancer is a thing of a past. And yes, now we hear cancer is curable. Again, our chests swell up. And in no small measure due to the smoke.
We smokers are great role-models. Now, how many times have people pointed at us and said to their kids, you shouldn’t become like that? How many times, have we been the talking point of a family dinner? Yes, kids need people to look up to. At the same time, it is very important that they also look down upon some people. So that they know what not to become. And that dirty job, our dear friends, we do. And we do it without a thought of a reward. Without being felicitated at some function. We do it, because we smokers are by nature altruistic and we do it with a smile on our lips. And a wisp of smoke curling up from the corner of it.
We smokers are good for the environment. Especially now, with the whats-it-called Al Gore movie. It is but a popular calculation that, if we smokers quit and start saving that money, then we would able to buy a new car, every year. Well, no thanks. We smokers think, the world doesn’t need any more cars. Not with the global warming movies lurking around. We care about the environment. That’s why we smoke. So, that in a nut-shell means, you non-smokers are responsible for polluting the environment. Because, by your own calculations, we will never have enough money to buy a car. Let alone afford the fuel (at the current gas prices).
We smokers are less of a burden on our children. No wastage of money on old-age homes. On nurses. They don’t have to worry about spending quality time with us. Nor about leaving us behind alone at home when they go off on a vacation. Who needs vacations when you are 80 years old anyway? Or for that matter who needs 80 years? And anyway baby-sitters, nowadays, are far less demanding. And grandchildren far more so.
We smokers are better workers. We sleep less. At work and otherwise. Because as it is so well documented, smoking results in sleeping disorder. We take lesser time for lunch, if at all any. Because the above mentioned document also mentions loss of appetite. Like it or not, we smokers form the only close-knit community in a workplace. We share a bond that’s unspoken. Non-political. Undesignated. And it’s just so much easier to look pensive, thoughtful and on-the-verge of a path breaking idea on how to increase your company’s profitability with a cigarette clenched between your fingers and blowing smoke thought-bubbles.
We smokers are the solution to all wars and violence. For centuries we have been advocating this peaceful way to settle all disputes. But non-smokers seem much dafter & deafer than us. Anyway, we have already established that smoking kills. Hence, imagine this, why not have two armies face off on the battlefield and light up. Whoever survives, wins. It’s far less violent (also, second-hand bullets are slightly more hazardous to health any day). It’s far less cheap. It’s far better for the economies of the respective governments. And the soldiers get to go back home and meet their beloved family one last time. And yes, George Bush Jr. will never have to explain for the missing WMDs. After all, as non-smokers have observed time and time again, cigarettes are officially classified as WMDs.
And last but not the least.
We smokers will never be found guilty of rape. By any miniscule chance, you find yourself accused of rape by a jealous co-worker, or a disgruntled neighbour or even a psychopathic Ex. you will, rest assured, be let off scot-free. All you have to do is manage to ask for your favourite brand of smokes from the cigarette smoking cop in his white Rupa Vest as he is applying his beloved, well-polished malaca cane to the soles of your feet. After all, the same well documented, popular list of effects of smoking, also mentions smoking as a reason for impotency.
Hence, considering that we smokers are doing this for the greater good of mankind, its but a disgrace to ask us to desist from smoking. Because, whatever we might be, we are not quitters. We’d rather Die Than Quit!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
An amber colored state of Liquefied mind
i am drunk. slightly.
May be that's what's pushing me to write this. And i have always wanted to do this. get drunk and write. Just simply write.
The first thing that comes to mind.
The last thing that comes to mind.
Fuck, any damn thing that comes to mind.
Just write. Use the 26 alphabets. use my limited vocabulary. Use my current drunken state of mind. And come up with something. Just put word after word. String them up. And see what happens. Where do i go. Where does my writing go.
Just watch it swirl around like ice cubes in an amber colored liquid. And then gradually melt to be one with it.
Damn, time for me to get another one...
Just watch it swirl around like ice cubes in an amber colored liquid. And then gradually melt to be one with it.
Damn, time for me to get another one...
Monday, May 19, 2008
Of cloud wavers and world peace
I have a theory.
I think people who wave at clouds are infinitely more happier than the rest of us who don't. And more at peace with themselves.
Before you jump to your well-judged conclusion that i have completely lost it. Let me assure you that you jump right and land at the right place too.
But just see this through, will you. At the end of it, maybe you would have lost it too. And it isn't such a bad place to be, anyway.
There are people, in this selfish, selfish world, who wave at clouds (i know one at least). And surprisingly, do not expect them to wave back.
That my friends, who are about to call the nearest asylum, is the secret to eternal happiness and peace. That is Nirvana. Hold the call.
Just imagine, you standing up there on your terrace, one overcast morning, the rain tattooing your upturned face with little pellets of life, watching the clouds dance by in a slow waltz and the sun, just a hazy reminder that it is day time. And before you know it, your arms are raised and you are cheering the clouds on to wherever they are going.
You wave at them.
Knowing very well, they won't wave back. Or for that matter stop to give you a ride. Sorry Ford.
That, ladies and gentlemen is one of the most unselfish gestures i have ever known.
You do not expect anything in return. Not showers of gold or blessings. Not a smile. Not even a Thank you. You just wave. That's purity in its purest form. That's innocence.
And i for one know, this world can do with some of that.
Everything else we do, even if it's charity of the noblest sorts, we invariably, deep inside, expect a kickback. In some form or the other. We will never admit it. But yes, we do expect a kick-back.
Forward a mail to save the life of a never-aging yet dying 6yr old. Expect to never see this mail again.
Give a rupee coin to sickly looking, nasal voiced, running nosed child at the intersection. Expect to shut him up and his blessings of 'tumhari jodi salamat rahegi' types. That too in front of a very hot babe whom you are just trying to chat up.
But waving at clouds? Hell no. You just can't expect anything.
May be that's what a certain Mr. Bush should do. Climb up the flagpole on his white house, once in a while, and wave at clouds. Instead of looking for countries with assumed stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction.
May be that's what Bhajji should have done. Put his hand to better use.
May be a whole bunch of people should wave at clouds in the middle east. Instead of waving grenades and expecting to win 'freedom'. Imagine that.
Will you throw a grenade at someone after you have just waved at the clouds? I should hope not. May be we all should. May be we will know how beautiful is to be happy because of something you did. Not others. How lovely can life be without any expectations.
May be it's time for you to make that call now.
PS. Thanks lil one. I owe you for this!
I think people who wave at clouds are infinitely more happier than the rest of us who don't. And more at peace with themselves.
Before you jump to your well-judged conclusion that i have completely lost it. Let me assure you that you jump right and land at the right place too.
But just see this through, will you. At the end of it, maybe you would have lost it too. And it isn't such a bad place to be, anyway.
There are people, in this selfish, selfish world, who wave at clouds (i know one at least). And surprisingly, do not expect them to wave back.
That my friends, who are about to call the nearest asylum, is the secret to eternal happiness and peace. That is Nirvana. Hold the call.
Just imagine, you standing up there on your terrace, one overcast morning, the rain tattooing your upturned face with little pellets of life, watching the clouds dance by in a slow waltz and the sun, just a hazy reminder that it is day time. And before you know it, your arms are raised and you are cheering the clouds on to wherever they are going.
You wave at them.
Knowing very well, they won't wave back. Or for that matter stop to give you a ride. Sorry Ford.
That, ladies and gentlemen is one of the most unselfish gestures i have ever known.
You do not expect anything in return. Not showers of gold or blessings. Not a smile. Not even a Thank you. You just wave. That's purity in its purest form. That's innocence.
And i for one know, this world can do with some of that.
Everything else we do, even if it's charity of the noblest sorts, we invariably, deep inside, expect a kickback. In some form or the other. We will never admit it. But yes, we do expect a kick-back.
Forward a mail to save the life of a never-aging yet dying 6yr old. Expect to never see this mail again.
Give a rupee coin to sickly looking, nasal voiced, running nosed child at the intersection. Expect to shut him up and his blessings of 'tumhari jodi salamat rahegi' types. That too in front of a very hot babe whom you are just trying to chat up.
But waving at clouds? Hell no. You just can't expect anything.
May be that's what a certain Mr. Bush should do. Climb up the flagpole on his white house, once in a while, and wave at clouds. Instead of looking for countries with assumed stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction.
May be that's what Bhajji should have done. Put his hand to better use.
May be a whole bunch of people should wave at clouds in the middle east. Instead of waving grenades and expecting to win 'freedom'. Imagine that.
Will you throw a grenade at someone after you have just waved at the clouds? I should hope not. May be we all should. May be we will know how beautiful is to be happy because of something you did. Not others. How lovely can life be without any expectations.
May be it's time for you to make that call now.
PS. Thanks lil one. I owe you for this!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
A rant
i still can't figure out what made me do this. Blog.
A small voice in my head keeps asking me "Why?"
"What?"
And a smaller voice replies just as quickly,
"why the fuck not?"
"you are bored"
"you aren't doing anything worthwhile, anyway"
"It's new, at least for you"
"Satisfy your writers ego"
"Feed it"
"Just rant"
Guess the smaller voice won. Surprisingly, it often wins.
As i struggle for the next sentence or, as my writer's ego would want to call it, the next rant, I can't help but wonder about the wisdom of the words spouted by a dear friend.
I had expressed my wish to him. Pat came the answer, "Don't" ..a pause, then an all knowing, "i have done this before, it will become an eleph....." ( the rest was drowned out by the satisfying sound of a thousand knives poking holes into the naysayer by the hurt writer's ego)
Now, i wonder, maybe, i should have restrained myself. I should have tried and listened, against better judgment (huh, i didn't know judgment didn't have an 'e'. The hurt writer's ego rears its beautiful head again.)
Maybe he was right. Maybe the knives were.
Maybe, just maybe, i should have tried to answer this question.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA WRITE ABOUT?"
hmm.....yeah....exactly....what?
Do i really feel strongly about anything to write about anything?
Do i really think and believe, people are going to enjoy reading this?
(of course they will, the smaller voice whispers soothingly. And a shiver runs through my typing fingers, as i realize the voice sounds a lot like my writer's egos. Just masked)
The damn ego. He always wins.
I know people are gonna say, you had a choice. as if anyone has any. The good thing about choices is, well, it's just a damn good feeling to have. The bad thing is that, when you get right down to making that choice, you realize, you didn't have any. You will always like one thing better than the other. You'd always want to go for one thing more than the other. And that will get manifested when you make that 'choice'.
Which is exactly what happened here. Hence, my first post.
I don't know whether there will be a second.
maybe, maybe not.
I don't know whether the "eleph...." thingy will happen.
maybe. maybe not.
But damn the ego. I love him.
The smaller voice just replied, "I love you too".
A small voice in my head keeps asking me "Why?"
"What?"
And a smaller voice replies just as quickly,
"why the fuck not?"
"you are bored"
"you aren't doing anything worthwhile, anyway"
"It's new, at least for you"
"Satisfy your writers ego"
"Feed it"
"Just rant"
Guess the smaller voice won. Surprisingly, it often wins.
As i struggle for the next sentence or, as my writer's ego would want to call it, the next rant, I can't help but wonder about the wisdom of the words spouted by a dear friend.
I had expressed my wish to him. Pat came the answer, "Don't" ..a pause, then an all knowing, "i have done this before, it will become an eleph....." ( the rest was drowned out by the satisfying sound of a thousand knives poking holes into the naysayer by the hurt writer's ego)
Now, i wonder, maybe, i should have restrained myself. I should have tried and listened, against better judgment (huh, i didn't know judgment didn't have an 'e'. The hurt writer's ego rears its beautiful head again.)
Maybe he was right. Maybe the knives were.
Maybe, just maybe, i should have tried to answer this question.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA WRITE ABOUT?"
hmm.....yeah....exactly....what?
Do i really feel strongly about anything to write about anything?
Do i really think and believe, people are going to enjoy reading this?
(of course they will, the smaller voice whispers soothingly. And a shiver runs through my typing fingers, as i realize the voice sounds a lot like my writer's egos. Just masked)
The damn ego. He always wins.
I know people are gonna say, you had a choice. as if anyone has any. The good thing about choices is, well, it's just a damn good feeling to have. The bad thing is that, when you get right down to making that choice, you realize, you didn't have any. You will always like one thing better than the other. You'd always want to go for one thing more than the other. And that will get manifested when you make that 'choice'.
Which is exactly what happened here. Hence, my first post.
I don't know whether there will be a second.
maybe, maybe not.
I don't know whether the "eleph...." thingy will happen.
maybe. maybe not.
But damn the ego. I love him.
The smaller voice just replied, "I love you too".
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