More of a doer

I am no accident you say 

You know the ins and outs of each of my days

Thank you! but I ask for more 

Make me less of a dreamer, and more of a doer

A simple truth I fear that keeps me from bliss

Is that I am frozen, inactive and lazy to bits 

This realization kills me so 

It's keeps me smaller, I'm my own worst foe

I teeter, I totter, still I'm unable to remain

You gave me desires, which constrict me in my frame

I blame, I whine, I complain like a child

But why then did you make me yearn to be free and so wild!! 

Is it a lie, an empty promise, or a fantasy with no appeal

That exists within me, is it even real?

Why do I waver, and wander, and constantly so?

Is it coz' I live in a mirage, and have no goals?

Am I a fool, a hopelessly blind and idiotic fool

To want, and when something fails, feel that life's cruel?

It worries my heart, and brings a tear to my eye

That my lofty aspirations and ideals, will slowly die 

Don't leave me stranded, don't leave me prey

To my own half-baked untruths and lies

I am weary and truly fed up of feeling this way

Of hoping, and wanting, but feeling like I'm doing little to change

Why did you make me stubborn and set in my ways inside?

But also flaky, shaky and fickle in mind?

Really, I feel like an empty nest

With loads to offer but not really my best?

Is my lack of struggle, my privileged and peaceful life 

Not causing me to act and deal with inner strife?

You made me a dreamer, but make me a doer!

Unshackle me from these tiring binds I pray!

Deliver me from that unspeakable fury

That threatens to overwhelm and drive me astray

I don't feel an inner power so amazing, the conviction of many

That seem to inspire, and push and drive

Help me to be a girl of action

So that I may cause change, make a fire and light alive

Squash my restless, aimless being, and keep me still 

So that the right thing excites me to do your glory and will

Let the drawn break over me, simply purge me from within

So that I can let go of a great many meaningless things

That jade my day, tarnish my soul 

And leaves me feeling like I have little control

Help me to become decisively strong, a driver of my future

A bull by its horns grabber,  and less of a cynic, a critical doubter

But most importantly,  please help me be

Less of a dreamer, and more of a doer.

An ode to happiness

Oh happiness, how you slip away from me.
You play hide and seek with me, day after day, night after night
You crouch slowly, waiting to spring up on me
But, when you do, you are frustratingly fleeting.
You appear and disappear, and play with each other, like close-knit brothers.
You show me quick glimpses into worlds unknown
And push me to chase after you, in a hopeless, desperate way.
You appear when least expected,
You fill my soul with warmth,
You shape-shifter, you melt into nothingness.
In your pursuit, I find myself chasing false Gods,
Which fail me gently, and sometimes not-so-gently.
You leave me unable to realise
Just what a fickle friend you really are.
Friendly, but impermanent
Warming, but quick to grow cold
If i did not wait for your appearance, nor mourn your disappearance
I might not be human, I might be 'God'
I cannot abandon the notion of you
Finding you lends meaning
The truth or falseness of which
Makes up the preoccupations of my everyday
Seeking you is not futile
So, I will search for you, however endless.  

Philosophizing

What you desire, so you shall become
What you long for, from the deepest recesses of your heart
Will be yours to enjoy forever.
The world around you might be seen as a rise of a mighty mountain,
Or come crashing down on your like a reckless wave.
But, you shall not be torn apart, you shall persist forever.
Your heart and hopes and dreams will not lurk in the shadows
They are golden lights threaded on an endless string of the universe
Each too small to stand alone, you think?
But, each quiet desire is a testimony to the road of your soul
The one you choose to wander on, stumble and fall.
The one you must always pick yourself up from, and travel ahead
The world and its people might deceive you at every turn
Do not fall for derision or glory
Stay strong, stay hopeful and stay free
For so you shall become.

Walk on

Funny how blahness induces creativity.
Or rather pushes it off of me
Unstructured thoughts are like sheep let free from herding
They offer temporary respite and limited freedom.
Every day I watch a yellow shrub shed its leaves one by one
Today, few cling on for dear life
Representing a change in season
Or, a shedding of inhibitions.
Every day, a little bit of sun shines down upon it
Egging it on to flourish
But, it most follow the circle of life, death and resurrection
You want to sleep the dullness away
To restore sense and aliveness in your brain
To spark a hope that can keep you burning
But, like all my tales of deep despair
This one too is yearning
To not be defeated
To view things in perspective
to be a little taller than the smallest small
Sometimes you don't know what you want
And when you do, you can't always get it
So, you change your mind, a TV channel, new clothes
You bathe, get out, talk to somebody new, take a deep breath
And invest in something new.
If this seems abrupt, it's on purpose
You see life is sudden, unexpected, and never regular for one
Who is always torn asunder by deep longings,
Does one be a victim or slave to it?
The other option. is to be unnatural. And, fake. Add a little sunshine.
Revel in it, and be transformed?
Isn't that the hoop we walk in everyday?

Swirly 360 degrees

Another one from around 2 years ago. Not sure what I was smoking/drowning myself in at the time :p .. Quite a mess there and incomplete. Also have made up brand new words like unwoken and unhindering and blissless :D not to mention interesting phrases like "joy in mirth"


Once there was a girl who dreamed beyond coconuts, strawberries and cream.
Her life would be one marvelous tale of unspoken, unwoken, insoluble dreams.
Unsteady was her gaze.
They seem constructed in every way
Trying hard to fit into a life well-lived
Of mediocre, blandness and blissless sway
Bored was she of mild contemplation
Hard was it to seek a stream of quiet introspection
Pushed this way and that by forces which work
terrible in hindsight, joy in mirth.
She let the words flow away
Unhindering what she planned to say
Trying hard to let go of the mask
Which she thought was appropiate
While thoughts seek no answers, the words fly by
A trail of nonsense for time after time
She had left her past behind
But still felt a need to be purged.
To not be so bored and deadly dull in her head
She had felt this way before..
It came when diamonds turned to rust
She needn't speak in such a blackened way
But they say she sees life exaggeratedly:
I am not who I am, yet I am
I try to go beyond, but I am blind
Oh to sleep the dullness away, to take away the ache in my soul
Truth be told, I wish I could keep writing forever
So I can be less bored by talking to human beings
Apart from somebody to love, I need somebody to talk to
They say the grass is greener on this side, but for a person is who is swayed by every damn thing, good and bad,
This kind of soul-muddling mess can be in fact, a way out
Coz healing takes place
Maybe one is deluded into thinking they are mind fucked
If the power is within, why don't we ever pay attention to it?
Is it that we are too bored to take the effort?
Or to ask ourselves what we really feel mean by a certain emotion?

........

Old cherry red

Here are the lines from a song written by me in 2009. I don't remember what was going through my head at the time, but I wanted to put it somewhere before I lost it again. Here goes :)

I stare at photos on the wall
Memories I know, can't carry me far
the red in cherry was too red to be
There's just so much the eye can see

I drink juice and then the tea
Something feels inadequate to me
Times I love more than times I dread
This is the story of the old cherry red

Raindrops and roses, you can't really choose it
Raindrops and roses, that's why I chose it

Fireflies fly through the dark of the night
Tears on your pillow to show you whats right
Times been amazing, Time's been real swell
Here's what I learnt from old cherry red

Raindrops and roses, you can't really choose it
Raindrops and roses, that's why I chose it

Hush, there's no time to waste away
Always, you gotta do the right thing anyway
ohhhhhhhhh...
No, wait, It was never my fault
I think its time to open up that vault
Ohhhhhhh....

Raindrops and roses, you can't really choose it
Raindrops and roses, that's why I chose it

Back to being eternal sunshine

It's a been a while
And the sun has bloomed right though the sky
The stars have fallen and shone up again
And lit up deep, empty crevices and made them meaningless
It's been a while
And the might of a thousand brightly coloured flowers
Have made a mad symphony of beauty
To decorate a dull, lifeless river gush forth like a waterfall
It's been a while
And the warm and golden honey
Have made its way back to the hornets nest
To drive out the bitter cold and a sleepy winter
It's been a while
And a music of the soul has swelled to burst
With tunes that send my senses into overdrive
And the ones that hurt have fallen short on melody
It's been a while
Since calm came easy, joy in full and harmony danced within
Since life felt well-lived and I smiled happy grins
It's been a while, but so worth the wait!

A state of boredom

Ennui is my enemy
A state of non-action
Numbs me into senselessness
And, takes away from my effort
To try and do and create
Life seems an endless chasm of boredom
With routine, mindless tasks
Some pleasure, some pain
Family who loves us and friends who come and go
Talk of education, career, marriage, children and fulfillment
What an utterly joyless way of living life
Where duties are done, we do what's required to keep a state of equilibrium
An atmosphere of so-called peace that we are supposed to thrive in
Except the thought of these things leave me bored
If a state of mind is dictated by factors, external or internal
Why don't we listen to their call?
Why limit ourselves?
Sometimes I think suffering is the only thing that makes us feel alive
Yet, nobody chooses to suffer, nobody plans to take difficult paths except those with conviction
Then us of the middle lot are indeed doomed
To live in a life under-lived for the lack of effort to immerse oneself
Passion remains a far away dream enjoyed by the special lot who chose to take the hard road by choice
And the rest of us are left to settle for the mediocre
And express their predicament in mild rants like these

Capricious

A list of songs reflect my mood
Sad or happy, I don't know
bittersweet yes, whimsical more
But most, I guess they seem to show
The clouds bind the sun that shines
And the sun pierces through the rain
The wind will blow the clouds away
The rainbow will not last the fray
There seems to be a truth, infinite and deep
That I seem to swivel on
Like a ballet dancer in fast spin on her toe
Blurry images of beauty leave me tired
For want of them, to succumb to them
Yet, to tear myself away is to bid painfull farewell
Of the web of truth I spun myself
Large and intricate it was, where everything had it's own place
Yet I withdraw on my own
It proved to be yet another farce
Should I be tossed about like a boat on the ocean?
Or should I steer my own way home?
Is it a bit of both or a little of none?
Truth is I am neither.
It turns out, nothing can be taken for granted
I open my arms to let the winds of change take over
Yet, here I am as hard as wall
Which lets nothing through
There is something odd about this predicament
It is not in my nature
I feel a different person
Left aflutter in the air
Yet tied down to something.
Why am I not able to let go?

Not just a song

Oh you the waning moon of my sunnyness
The echo's call that never returns
I wait and hope for something more
While pretending you were never acquainted with me before
I thought I could do without you, and the truth is I still can.
But at the same time, life seemed to me deeper with you around
What distant, broken memories you bring me?
What secrets do you tell from my past?
Why this odd feeling of closeness which does not come easy?
Why is that I can do without you, yet there is none else like you
How is it that choosing to deny your significance make me feel like I am denying myself the joy of the quiet release that comes at the close of a struggle?
While you stand vertical and stay unmoved, without a word
I hop through a lawn blooming flowers of restless frustration
Hoping and trying to forget you
Emphasizing to myself, that I don't need anybody.
An attempt to take precaution against the next big storm
I need to understand that the greatest storm has passed
And it has firmed up my shore for the better
So, while I pine for all the ways you could be mine
I realise you may never be mine
For it is a story with no ending
To make you mine and me yours, defeats the purpose
Yet, the world knocks on my door importantly, impatiently and incessantly
Signalling, the crossroad has come.
The world has ways of showing us paths the soul cannot fathom
Were you just another whisper which caressed my ear and showed me the way?
Please answer.

Back to the beginning

It rained today
I could tell of its coming by the sombre greying of the skies
And the way the earth seems to heave a great, big sigh to spread the aroma of a second coming
Such a purely divine smell it was, pure and unpolluted.
Untouched by ugliness, like how things first were
Before we were fed the apple from the Garden of Eden
In a world full of innocence and child-like wonder
Of unbridled gushing and blinding happiness
When the "walls of perception were indeed cleansed"
Before you grew up and life brought with it
self-limiting walls of conformity catered to individual lives
Before you grew up and became a jaded version of your former self
Before life was in a constant state of jeopardy in the fight of what we see as good versus evil
Before thoughts and feelings dictated to you the person in you
Before you chose to speak about all of the above
Back to a time when you saw the world as a child's playground
Before you grew up and become a jaded version of your former self
Half-hoping to go back to the beginning
Where we came from
How do we go back to that state?
Untainted and immaculate
For a life has to be lived, for a life to be overcome
This is what the rain brings to me today

Life is a dream

Life is a dream and we are merely puppets
Co-existing with each other and creating our individual spaces for growth and reflection
Being dragged upwards by the current that also seem to drown us at times
Thrown offshore, wrecked on the jagged rocks or lounging in the sweet sunshine on the beach
Yet we claim to hold the reign, while reality slip through our fingers like sand
Creating spaces which we try so hard to fill with our own doing
We build ourselves, our homes and lives - with work, play, leisure and abandon. What next?
Softly repeated phrases of wisdom and encouragement hold little meaning for those who believe
Life is a dream and we are merely puppets

Idyllic daydreams go lost like wisps of cotton floating too far to reach little fingers who chase it with glee
While people's lives scream melodrama like characters in stories of Shakespearean proportions
Others thrive in the comfortable familiarity of circumstances daring not to challenge themselves for the sake of loss
Life's presents come by like shiny, wrapped packages for us beneath the Christmas tree
As people bump, meet, interact and part ways, so the heart is pleased, warmed, melted, broken and healed
We choose our Gods, we call Him different names- we choose the single most emotional bond or the lack of it
We use our brains to analyse, understand, defer and interpret -our endless calculations create logic and reason
We like to be in control of our lives, we like to steer our lives in path befitting but repeatedly losing sight
That we are only colours being woven into the universal quilt crafted by the master weaver
An idea which holds little meaning for those who believe
Life is a dream and we are merely puppets

Streamless

Dead lives, I worry endless
Of all the failed, elaborate plans of mankind
Which may never see the light of day
They await their demise, unless awoken
Never too late to make a difference.
What sort of banter is?
will it ever see the light of day?
A furious awakening
It might be spit fire and appear to fester
The deadened soul sees no desire
no harness, no weighty claims for the future
Those who seek will find reward in harmony.
Never the less, the rope may tear
for all those who yearn to climb its golden walls.
Of all the fears that plague mankind
It is not the fear of death or the fear of being lost
Nor the fear of being branded nothing
It is the fear of will-less-ness.
The fear that there is nothing to go on for
Nothing to seek, there are no green fields on the other side
Only fields of mud where rows of planted corn and potatoes look the same.
Life becomes dull. A reason to exist.
We live like each other. We look like each other.
A part of the masses.
Every minute is a struggle in itself. None is free from it.
Those who roam free are free from it.
but those who are held in bondage do not see it
Can i record every single thought? Would it make sense?
Or is it just a haphazard rendering.
What is goodness afterall? It is not just a trail of the mighty.
From pain, also comes goodness.
From thought is faith.
And from faith is worship.
Consider a life where there is no thought, no faith and no worship.
How brilliantly qualified are we? Yet, all we do is stumble.
Humans are made to stumble.
A human was never made to be divine.
Just a little rush, that's all I need
Where lies this ache?
I wonder if this seems like rubbish.
In all probability it is..
For a rush of thoughts can never make sense unless streamlined.
Or maybe not.

Sleep

One of those days when I hardly seem to know what's wrong with me. I feel ridiculously like everything is too perfect for me to take. Imagine someone complaining about things being too alright? I should feel blessed but instead why do I feel so wretched?

Truth is I have nothing substantial to write about. I don't feel any passion and I am bloody tired about writing about my feelings.

Nowhere me

I should have done this a long time ago. Make my blog my own stuff.. I think I need a plan. I need goals. I need to know what I want and not lose sight of it. I need focus. I need to block out all hindrances, all external pleasures to get what I want. And, I know its not going to come easy.

As I write this aimless post in an attempt to collect my thoughts, I already feel a sinking sense of loss. Yet I know I must do it. I read in the Gita that I am born in this pure and wealthy family only coz of the good deeds done in my past. I believe so. There seems to be no other explanation while some people receive a life of suffering and others receive a life of riches. The latter matters nothing. It's all what we make use of the present moment. The latter can be a life of dreadful suffering too coz riches don't equate to happiness. In fact, more often it leads to the opposite. Suffering and pain far worse than the relatively poorer person. It's just so twisted, clever and fascinating..

I got to leave for a dad-moms friends kids baptism now.. I think this space can be pretty worthwhile after all. Maybe this is how I can really egg myself to move forward.

Remembrances of an idyllic past

A field of golden sunflowers. They twist and turn in the mind’s eye. If you look closely, you can see the velvety softness of their petals from a distance. The honeybees buzz around eagerly. The yellow in them matches perfectly with their harbinger of quick, thick honey. Sleek green leaves adorn the flowers. A path is laid out in perfection. It leads to a thick hedge of grass beyond which lies a sloshing of something watery. Large green frogs are seen skipping lillypads which shiver as transparent dragon flies swoop in on them. Spring has sprung fresh and has just seen the first hint of summer rain. The country side was washed cleaner than ever before, much like neatly scrubbed floors of the tiny wooden house which stood peeping at the edge of the thicket.

A young girl quietly lays out her washing on the line tied to the windows of her house and a healthy oak tree. Her unruly hair restrained by a scarlet bandanna, she wore denim overallas and short white shirt. She had folded up the legs of her pants to reveal a shiny silver anklet with dolphin and star charms and squiggly tattoo showed on her left foot- one could not quite make out what it read. Nearby, a canvas held thick drawing paper. On it, were splashed dull violets and fiery oranges in dramatic strokes.

Was she a painter? One couldn’t tell. She quickly put her clothes on the washing line and carried and empty blue bucket, all the while shaking to an invisible tune possibly playing itself in her head. Rubbing her bare feet in the mat outside her wooden house, she stepped and shut the door behind her. She stared with a mix of half adoration and half exasperation at the bearded guy who was slumped in a heap of a mess on her couch. “Can you wake up already?” she poked him and hissed loudly, while pulling apart the curtains. A stream of sunshine spontaneously shone through the house. He woke up with a start, the morning rays hitting him like a mug of cold water thrown across. “What’s going on? Where am I” he drawled. “Eggs and toast are on the table. I should’ve known better than to bring you home. Can we forget that last night ever happened?” she stomped over the carpet picking up stray pieces of litter as she walked by. “Do you have orange juice? I so need some right now” he responded, while pulling up his pants which lay on the floor. “Hey, wait a minute. Did we sleep together last night or?” She did not respond. She was busy, clearing the dishes, her nose in the air and her lips pursued shut. She had this appealing way of looking sporty yet feminine, he thought idly. The body’s straight, but it’s in her face. She has this whole crisp hyper woman thing going on. Another thought escaped his sleep-starved head.

She was sneaking looks at him from a corner of her eye but she made an effort to not meet his full. “So when did you wanna you know get out of here?” she asked. “I don’t want to. I want to talk about last night. What did we do? I know I drank a quarter and a half bottle of whiskey before I passed out.” She stared at him indignantly. “Ya well, you did tell me about.. uhm.. you know what. Don’t tell me you can’t remember.” He stared blankly. What is it with women and them universally harping on details, he thought.

Last night, had been unbearably tender. Like lovers locked in an almost furious embrace. The words and silences tumbled wild and free. Yet, they had not made love.

To be contd..

Runaway brain

I am hit by a sudden way of nostalgia and strangeness about my life right now and what it was in the past. And all thats in between really. It's like feeling a rising tidal wave of something which is not hit shore and is just stuck momentarily in mid air, poised to crash but held back, in control. Am I supposed to let it wash over?

Room to Vent

I look for ways to flow free. Feels like they never can again.
Oh to feel like a whizzing cork bottle spitting wine. Needs to be corked again.
Who knows what the secret future may tell?
What misty candlelight obscures the way?
Try as I may seem far from empty
Empty thoughts alone kindle the light.
In a passionate fury you venture out to seek what has already been placed before hand.
Do not lose courage for courage comes to those who ask.
And not to those who claim to have it.
Fly away to lands unnoticed
Seek not to live in shadows of your dreams
How far you can go, you will never know
Unless your willing to risk yourself for it
And show yourself nakedly to the world
The glimpses viewed through the sheer curtain will fall through
There it reveals a blessing, I feel its love
How much to ask for? Too little?
I tire of knowing what is, yet clinging to what swims appealingly, morbidly
Same exhaustion, same routines, same circles
It crushes little by little, and revives all the same.
A moment of rest too soon gone by.
Piece by piece unfolded
But like an endless book, the story goes on and on
And here I am in a room to vent.

Livin' on the Edge

I want to do so much with my life.. see new places, meet new people, learn about other cultures, travel the world, carry around a zest for life which lies thumping in my chest like a heartbeat. We are bound by our circumstances most often, unable to do the things the heart desires. We then grow to live in impatience, losing faith in the things that move us the most. Over time, one learns to give in, fit in well, be part of the groove and forget the spunk and crazy and settle for less.

Sometimes I feel myself soar in leaps and bounds but at other times I am afraid to let myself to do so. I used to be a pretty dreamy, unrestrained person.. I lately realize how inwardly quiet I have become. The kind of person who knocks off all the irregular edges because irregular edges have hurt more than helped. Now the edges are straightened and what have I become? I yearn for that lust for life feeling again. I feel it still exists in me, albeit in a much more faded fashion.

Today I read about a guy who balances on cliffs and edges.. he literally lives his life on the edge. The guy embraces risk and has overcome his fear of falling off the edge. I yearn for such an exhilaration. I yearn for the next big turning point which will put me in a place where I can be challenged.

Where do I go now?

It's been ages since I wrote anything. It's so easy to get complacent.. to sit back and want little out of life when you are very comfortable with everything. I rarely post stuff spontaneously, I usually review it lots o times before I actually publish anything. A sign that I don't care to edit and revise.. I'm pretty cool with what's here.

Yet again, I find myself at tentative crossroads in my life. Struggling to know what I want.. and how to get there. I understand how some people get caught in the struggle of pursuit.. there is something productive in a struggle.. it makes you feel like you are doing something, going somewhere, making things happen. It is part of the joy of creating something of your own I guess. Right now I feel like I have nothing to struggle for, that things are easy. I should feel blessed instead that I have comforts, I have peace all around.. what gives then?

One important thing I have realized for myself is that - the grass is never green on the other side. What I have in my power is to make best use of the moment.. When I look back, I think I am constantly craving this freedom space which is my idea of well.. complete joy and harmony with the universe and nothing else. The frustrating side about wanting that for myself all the time is.. everything within the normal space of the everyday pales, I forget to enjoy simple things and keep wanting something extraordinary all the time. And, it slips my reach.. and I am left in a state of limbo unable to stay still to enjoy the simple present neither be caught up in the thrilling pursuit of the extraordinary.

Which way now?