500 Days of Summer

five_hundred_days_of_summer

Ever gotten bored doing the same thing over and over, listening to the same concepts of life always, pile of rhetorics buttered with voices where the only difference among them are the damn voices. Well, whatever your answer, you are bound to adore the Indie flick, “500 Days of Summer.”

Let’s hope the preceding lines didn’t throw you off the track.
What I was going for, was to put it out there, the word ‘newness.’ Insanely common it does sound to the majority of us, since we have always wanted a newer beginning, or a newer end, a change of technology and precisely a change of perspective. The idea of ‘newness’ is so alluring that mind genuinely drifts off to a bunch of imaginative glimpses, possibly a creation of our mental research. Although, you might accept that even though you are quick to think and explore this newer perspective that has presented itself, you fail to imbibe it in reality. You cumbered by your own defense mechanism, generate scenarios where the change that you seek would not work, and to discourage yourself is all you Continue reading

To Friendship

Everyone has their own version of friendship.
It’s a self explanatory word though, nothing like it. To set sail in a ship with memories of a friend (physical presence not essential), that’s all.
Talking I’m not good at but convey everyone must, so here it is, appreciate y’all!

hqdefault

Embracing
and amassing love
dripping from pockets replete
remember always, responsible ain’t me, it’s you.

Starting Over

“Oh Look, it started raining mother”, Adriel spoke with sheer happiness. He was convinced that this would put on hold or even better call off their plans to meet Dr. Len, but finding surprises has always been his strong suit.

She did not reply, he called out one more time, but still she did not reply.

He went in to look.

Kaya had been working hard as a mother and a receptionist in an ad agency. Things have been hard and life a little difficult after Josh died. It happened that morning, that dark morning, that’s how she describes it. She loved nature and knew the drill which it’s various associates namely, sun, moon, trees played every year, every season, every month, but after that day, she barely remembered as to why she was so in love with nature, why she ever thought of sun as god’s ultimate gift to earth, and hailed trees that only belong to the soil,  pretending to sacrifice their movement to foster mankind.  May be her doubts were an aftershock or may be she never really understood how rough things are around, outside her small solicited heaven. But she had reasons to believe, to blame and curse nature for it’s role in the misfortune, for she felt cheated, felt unsafe, for she had lost her husband to the dark morning, when the sun was playing, hiding behind clouded shackles, dim, and trees meant to stand, lied proudly on ground, silently as his car hit the trunk on road and rocketed off the hill, the repercussion an aftermath, a tragedy. A man died that night and so did the belief of safe havens. Continue reading

Under Influence

They walk,
and I walk along.
I don’t cerebrate
and ask why and where?
Driven by impulse,
I follow,
absent reasons,
absent desires,
just to please,
under influence!

I pretend,
to have apprehended,
routines, customs of many
for may appear obtuse
if I don’t.
Rationality is impaired,
and even if it’s not,
I tend to neglect
for I fear their response,
under influence!

It’s captivating, the world,
beauty, joy on shallow faces,
pretense of relationships,
altering dynamics, hiding
pains, for feeble fools
we are, and adulation by
others pleases more than
our own understanding
of life and felicity,
under influence!

It’s cryptic, but
the keys lie within.
The ‘life of pretend’
a mere escape from self.
The darkest, constant concerns
mere manifestations of
shame and unresolved issues.
I ought to commit to
self exploration whilst
under influence!

For I can, and
to live my “own” life,
and not someone else’s
I must!

Check out this song if you may, I found it’s lyrics so damn fascinating and so poetic, and above all so true. I think Fleet Foxes are very much known for their fine lyrics. Click to Listen 🙂

It was meant to BE!

destiny-life.jpg

Things happen
and we call them
“events of life”,
some capable of
turning life’s course.

A man’s prevision,
mere predictions
we call them, can
go wrong or equally right.

Future is not set
in stones, we say,
but do we believe,
fighting our way
off the prophecy,
spend entire eternity
working against it,
hitched,
to change for better.
And whatever be the
result, favorable or not,
we emphasize
“it was meant to be,
there’s no escaping”,
and all
efforts
alternative possibilities
in-between,
are termed delusions,
acceptance sweeps the
course,
never questioning,
nor inquiring explanations,
mere “coincidence”
which it is,
is never understood!

From RANDOM to RHYME

It’s decremental, it is, you will see.
I wish to explicate an observable beauty.

In a house, began my life, contemporary,
clustered with people, eating brownie,
non-complicated, and I was taught
lessons of life. I invariably bought,
curiosity was, questioning I did, most times,
they answered too, and so the frequent climbs.
I believed, for trust was larger-than-life,
not that I understood “what was life?”
but those first steps in school, sometime
I feel I had moved from random to rhyme.

It’s decremental, it is, you will see.
I wish to explicate, an observable beauty.

In school, associations grew, and new
knowledge cluttered over existing value.
A walk in NEW unfolded variables,
I resonated with yes, for I trusted all angles,
But life as we know it, was not up for hide,
color it revealed, I denied, but it kept aside
morality, truth it showered, “yes, I was lied”,
trust, my innocence, that day “died”.
Conscious stammered, I reviewed my crime,
realizing life had moved from random to rhyme.

It’s decremental, it is, didn’t you see?
I wish to explicate, an untold agony.

In life, started happening, contemplating,
caution grew paramount. It’s truth or acting?
Layered knowledge tampered, who to blame,
questioning all, life never remained the same.
Who knew, random was just scattered ties,
of placed, known and untested allies.
Who knew, rhyme wasn’t just a poetic tool,
but to sing along this manipulative solicit pool.
So, was changed, learned to not trust a dime,
with adjustment moved, from random to rhyme.

It’s decremental, placing trust, you see,
losing as aging. So, cerebrating, to seek some for me.

Note
The poem is on trust, how we lose it as we grow, remember childhood, how we believed everything and everyone, and now, when we meet people, it takes time, a lot of time, and sometimes even after the endless time we are left guessing.

The Cove and Dolphins

You know, if I were a dolphin, I might tell you the troubled story like this,

 

In waters we live the lie, die
in parkland still, men with their knives
lurking in coves, bare mind contrives

wonted route, obstacles defy
loud cry in trance, artful sound dance
treacherous motives, you imply

effete cetacean archives
stacking, as we live the lie, die.

Until dawn, might live the lie, die
or with valet who arrives
turn props, captivity derives

deception of smile, doesn’t comply
the ail, strain, intellect in drain,
hoarding wealth, slaughter, don’t deny

water bloody red, spiking knives,
in waters, seeping the lie, die.

 

Continue reading