I remember......I heard this song, and it made me lose myself. Today, I read something; it completely blind folded me and left me somewhere, a place well known to me but not visited often. A place where music is only for one's ears, and light only for one's eyes. My vocabulary begs to describe the place I was taken to. Despite the heavenly aura, the place was distressing, disturbing and painful; a pain one would want to suffer.
There are these 'untouched corners' in all of us.......atleast me. It is a place not acquainted with all the time; not with all, not even self. A place where dreams are not to dream but to fulfill. A place so exquisite and pleasant or deadly and diabolical, the boundaries defined by the limits one take it to. My corner is an uninhabited one. It is just the two of us.
Until these days, my corners were a place to visit. She was mischievous enough to touch these corners....often. I do not know if it was my addiction or hers. And now, I live there.
Silence is the music.
Time and tide is still. The only thing running is my tears.
I do not age nor die. I just, AM........waiting for her.
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Waiting To Propose !!!
I sat here on my penny-worth chair at my balcony for a 'little-alone' time. My sight is blurring......It is smoggy all around. I am no more sitting, I am just laying there, as if burned down. Ouch...............my fingers scorch. I hurl my hand with sluggish reflex, and one more fire bud flies to the bunch of others in the trash. The fire buds are still alive, including the last one that flew from my hand. The fire buds speak of the anger in me; Each fire bud reminds of a flower rejected by one of them to whom I did not have the courage to propose. And they lay there...............withered.........and reddened.
The last one that flew was for her.
Will that bud ever die ?
It will tell her that I am still waiting, still looking for her !!!
I can see the smog now, clearly. The smog is smoke, and I lay in my chair as if I have been shot in the mouth.
The last one that flew was for her.
Will that bud ever die ?
It will tell her that I am still waiting, still looking for her !!!
I can see the smog now, clearly. The smog is smoke, and I lay in my chair as if I have been shot in the mouth.
Thodi Raagam !!!
My humble prayers to Isis for showering me with good words
to write down my suffering. It is the only way I can have it
shared.
I am not afraid of joining the Fight Club. It is the interval between now, every now, and the moment I become a part of it. Until then, I know her exotic long hair will sway over my face. Yet I have not seen her face. I know I will be hypnotised like every time by the fragrance and touch of her soft skin. I know I have to be with her.......without her !!!
I fantasize her - passionately and widly. Her long black hair is smooth and flows like silk. Every time it flows over my face, I let go myself. My coarse hands shiver, losing their skill, when they trace her soft skin. Anytime I close my eyes, I see us always embraced - holding her softly like a proposing flower. She whipers in my ear with a smile wanting something. Her voice echoes inside me. At times, I have found it hard to distinguish if I am thinking or hearing. I can spare time and life if I could lay for more time beside her. It is the green(est) plains and I lay beside her caressing, while she smiles at the sky. That is her diplomatic way of provoking me. The soft breeze carries the fresh dew and they fall undisturbed on her lips. I touch her lips, they are cold and soft. I kiss them..............with my eyes closed; they overflow with tears. It is like a revelation of life. There is nothing but nothingness all around us. And there we lay frozen ............with our lips in conversation.
I am being tormented without her. It is a suffering - thinking about her, being engaged with her all time and not knowing if she is just a dream. I wonder why are dreams called so ? To me, it does not matter whether dreams happen. I am convinced if they elate me to the heights I dream of. So I treat them very real. Yet I am in the dream world. I could not make explicable meaning of these fantansies. These fantasies are a manifestation of a much great emotion inside me. Truly.......it is LUST. I could not find any other way to express it. If lust is sin, so be it; I am already suffering the punishment. Perhaps, my suffering will heal if spoken than written. And any way I try, my words are not going to sound poetic and genuine for a consoling pat. They sure may sound unorthodox and vulgar, and I am afraid of my suffering being ignored juvenile when shared. But pathetic.......I am an orphaned friend. So my fantasies shall remain as troubling thoughts inside me.
There are two kinds of men - those who give more love and those who always want more love. To be either of the two, I need HER. I realise that the Fight Club is an excuse, an escape, an inscrutable reflection of my sadness over missing her. And these fantasies are an evidence. Until the day, she comes out of the dream to my arms, I shall keep writing elegies of my unrequited longing. I shall write of the sleepless nights I sleep with her, the caressing, the momentary blood clots that my coarse hands make on her tender body. I shall write words wounded by the fragrance of her breadth. I shall write to discharge the unbearable suffocation. I cannot endure to have it all left unsaid.
Until the day I unite with her, I am cursed to bear the heat. I am cursed with lust. Hence, I wander......Ohh 'MY LOVE', where art thou ?
I am in LOVE !!!
A few words before I lay on my bed to feel the painful solitude !!!
Solitude is not the feeling of loneliness when there is nobody, but everybody. Solitude is not chosen but ultimately left with. Solitude is not exclusion but retreat without your conscious consent. Solitude is not sweet pain but agony. Solitude is not for sharing with others, it is only for you. Solitude is your feelings in prison, however poetic and genuine they are.
Solitude is being in love with a nobody and expecting it for the rest of your life. I am in love !!!
Solitude is not the feeling of loneliness when there is nobody, but everybody. Solitude is not chosen but ultimately left with. Solitude is not exclusion but retreat without your conscious consent. Solitude is not sweet pain but agony. Solitude is not for sharing with others, it is only for you. Solitude is your feelings in prison, however poetic and genuine they are.
Solitude is being in love with a nobody and expecting it for the rest of your life. I am in love !!!
The Fight Club !!!
Silence Prevails..............so silent that the photons rushing in the through the window, like raging soldiers, can be heard. Disturbed by the high acoustics, I struggle not to open my sticky eye lashes. Like the soldiers with their shining swords, the photons attack my eyes and I can see them attack even with my eyes closed. I cry a dull tired 'Ummmmmhhhhhhh'. It is 9:00....9:30 - No, not 10:00 - in the morning. It is still silent. I wake up or somebody wakes me up. The light now seems to flow in like silk and is mute; although I imagine hearing melancholic notes of a violin from the farthest in my house - I am awake and in a conscious state. I wonder if the light made the sound to wake me up.
The birds on the trees got tired chirping and had flown away. The morning dew is now hot. And probably there won't be any children on the streets. It is not but seems to be mid day. And now all that is going to happen for the rest of the day is the curse on me. The pain of the curse is knowing the future of the day, and the future has been the same way for a long time I know. There is no 'future' in the day.
I do not remember if I brushed my teeth but I remember standing before the mirror. Was it yesterday ? I do not know if the days run slow or fast. They are not interesting, not worth remembering. I know I will hear a gushing sound of the shower water now or a short while from now. Oh I hear it now, and it sounds the same way like yesterday and like many many days before yesterday. The water hisses like a snake, and each droplet jumps from the nozzle smoothly like divers with open hands, floats and flies like a bird, and pitches on my face and shoulders. The water is warm. I no more greet the pitch of the first droplet with a unstoppable smile. I no more experience the comfort of my body. My strained muscles have stopped relaxing for the warm water. They have become lifeless. I feel like a lotus leaf. Sometimes, I stand staring at the water coming out of the shower nozzle. I still cannot guess what gets me out of the deliquium. I do not remember ever starting the day without a step in the shower, or the shower getting dried out.
If the breakfast is ready by the time I dress up and the shower tap stops ticking, would that break the monotonous mornings ? I guess.......it should. Because I know I am going to pour the milk on my white bowl, top it with the corn flakes or oat meal. I tried skipping breakfast a few times to make a difference. It made a big difference - bad breadth most times and I fainted twice. When I have a great battle to fight for the rest of the day, a difference in the breakfast would not make much of a difference. Despite that, I try to make things a lit different in the kitchen, and it strikes late for my polar express (train) to catch.
I have stopped responding to my senses that tell me I am getting late for the train. I deliberately hold up rushing and watch the suburban train on the bridge not wait for me. Ohhh.....I pity the train operator. How many times will he have to drive the same damn thing, over and over, over the same rail from hither to yonder and yonder to hither. Will he be cursed too ? Or does he sleep while the train goes on the rail ? No, he does not. Then how does the train stop for people waiting to board or to get off ? I expect my boarding station to be "Under Construction" or bombed. I expect that today there won't be any leaves rustling there, that sound like the scratch of a blunt blade. I expect a lot of people happily chatting with each other while they wait for the train. I expect to meet a good travel friend. I expect to see the most beautiful girl on the train or at the next approaching station. I expect to say hi to her, and flirt with her wildly. I expect a free ride from my drop off point to the office. I expect somebody to shoot an album with me while I walk to office. Nothing happens, nothing like that has happened yet. The train white in color for as long as I remember has not faded, has never been late, and has never waited for me or anyone even for a second. And I walk to office, imaging an album being shot.........I realise I am humming a good melody, I hum aloud, foreign sounds in a foreign land.
Well, the rest of the day does not work well. I have a job but I do not have any (interesting) work. Work is not what you are made to do but you do. At work, I am like a lone banyan tree in a vast hay field. Sometimes I just sit gazing, completely lost, and fall in a different kind of deliquium that leaves me in a state of imagination. When I get out of it, it would almost be the time when cars on the streets start racing in the opposite direction. I realise it is evening. I start home for no one waiting for me. Then it is time for the polar express story again.
The sun rests after its tiresome day. And i am tired for no reason. I want to rest but am restless. A few hours run along, and it is the night. My dark room is like an empty sky. And my confused mind fills it with incomprehensible thoughts. I fight my thoughts, and feel asleep (sleep ?) late fighting them. I am living like the dead. I feel no pain any more. My senses are struggling to get liberated, to function. But they are numb because of the 'everyday'. I wish to get angry at somebody, yell at them. I wish to get beaten. I wish to lay stray on the streets, drunken. I wish to ride a horse. I wish to laugh aloud. I wish to cry. I wish to sleep in a car on the top of a mountain. I wish to swim in the cold sea. I wish for my portrait. Would such feelings make my senses function ? I pray, not God, for something that would give life to my life.
I feel something now. I feel a change in the pace in my heart. What if this sick lifeless hopeless man gets a girl for his own and his only ? Perhaps, the love and warmth of a woman could take the boredom out of my life. What if she knows that spell ? What if she knows how to cuddle me but preserve my tears ? What if she could blow my heavy sleepless eyes softly and put them to sleep ? What if she could fight the photons for me, and instead wake me up with the most beautiful sight - her grace, her charm. What if she makes me cough many times in the day while I am away from her ? What if she waits for me in the evenings in her black dress, fallen hair, a red rose, fragrant candles, and a hidden drop of tear and trust in her eye for this hopeless man who in real is just born to live ? Yes, I hope that a girl could lighten up my life. I hope I would get the urge to live the day. I hope my life would make some sense. I imagine her, and I feel blessed and peaceful by her sanctity. Well, then is she there ? Will she be mine ?
I fear she never comes. I fear I will go mad. I fear these good thoughts will cease , and I will end up in the kingdom of boredom. What do I do ? So I imagine broken teeth. I imagine cruel fiery eyes, blacked out. I imagine my beard wet with beer bubbles. I imagine blood in my hands, on my wear, and in my mouth. I imagine a lot of people around me like that. I imagine Tyler Durden. I imagine FIGHT CLUB !!!
The birds on the trees got tired chirping and had flown away. The morning dew is now hot. And probably there won't be any children on the streets. It is not but seems to be mid day. And now all that is going to happen for the rest of the day is the curse on me. The pain of the curse is knowing the future of the day, and the future has been the same way for a long time I know. There is no 'future' in the day.
I do not remember if I brushed my teeth but I remember standing before the mirror. Was it yesterday ? I do not know if the days run slow or fast. They are not interesting, not worth remembering. I know I will hear a gushing sound of the shower water now or a short while from now. Oh I hear it now, and it sounds the same way like yesterday and like many many days before yesterday. The water hisses like a snake, and each droplet jumps from the nozzle smoothly like divers with open hands, floats and flies like a bird, and pitches on my face and shoulders. The water is warm. I no more greet the pitch of the first droplet with a unstoppable smile. I no more experience the comfort of my body. My strained muscles have stopped relaxing for the warm water. They have become lifeless. I feel like a lotus leaf. Sometimes, I stand staring at the water coming out of the shower nozzle. I still cannot guess what gets me out of the deliquium. I do not remember ever starting the day without a step in the shower, or the shower getting dried out.
If the breakfast is ready by the time I dress up and the shower tap stops ticking, would that break the monotonous mornings ? I guess.......it should. Because I know I am going to pour the milk on my white bowl, top it with the corn flakes or oat meal. I tried skipping breakfast a few times to make a difference. It made a big difference - bad breadth most times and I fainted twice. When I have a great battle to fight for the rest of the day, a difference in the breakfast would not make much of a difference. Despite that, I try to make things a lit different in the kitchen, and it strikes late for my polar express (train) to catch.
I have stopped responding to my senses that tell me I am getting late for the train. I deliberately hold up rushing and watch the suburban train on the bridge not wait for me. Ohhh.....I pity the train operator. How many times will he have to drive the same damn thing, over and over, over the same rail from hither to yonder and yonder to hither. Will he be cursed too ? Or does he sleep while the train goes on the rail ? No, he does not. Then how does the train stop for people waiting to board or to get off ? I expect my boarding station to be "Under Construction" or bombed. I expect that today there won't be any leaves rustling there, that sound like the scratch of a blunt blade. I expect a lot of people happily chatting with each other while they wait for the train. I expect to meet a good travel friend. I expect to see the most beautiful girl on the train or at the next approaching station. I expect to say hi to her, and flirt with her wildly. I expect a free ride from my drop off point to the office. I expect somebody to shoot an album with me while I walk to office. Nothing happens, nothing like that has happened yet. The train white in color for as long as I remember has not faded, has never been late, and has never waited for me or anyone even for a second. And I walk to office, imaging an album being shot.........I realise I am humming a good melody, I hum aloud, foreign sounds in a foreign land.
Well, the rest of the day does not work well. I have a job but I do not have any (interesting) work. Work is not what you are made to do but you do. At work, I am like a lone banyan tree in a vast hay field. Sometimes I just sit gazing, completely lost, and fall in a different kind of deliquium that leaves me in a state of imagination. When I get out of it, it would almost be the time when cars on the streets start racing in the opposite direction. I realise it is evening. I start home for no one waiting for me. Then it is time for the polar express story again.
The sun rests after its tiresome day. And i am tired for no reason. I want to rest but am restless. A few hours run along, and it is the night. My dark room is like an empty sky. And my confused mind fills it with incomprehensible thoughts. I fight my thoughts, and feel asleep (sleep ?) late fighting them. I am living like the dead. I feel no pain any more. My senses are struggling to get liberated, to function. But they are numb because of the 'everyday'. I wish to get angry at somebody, yell at them. I wish to get beaten. I wish to lay stray on the streets, drunken. I wish to ride a horse. I wish to laugh aloud. I wish to cry. I wish to sleep in a car on the top of a mountain. I wish to swim in the cold sea. I wish for my portrait. Would such feelings make my senses function ? I pray, not God, for something that would give life to my life.
I feel something now. I feel a change in the pace in my heart. What if this sick lifeless hopeless man gets a girl for his own and his only ? Perhaps, the love and warmth of a woman could take the boredom out of my life. What if she knows that spell ? What if she knows how to cuddle me but preserve my tears ? What if she could blow my heavy sleepless eyes softly and put them to sleep ? What if she could fight the photons for me, and instead wake me up with the most beautiful sight - her grace, her charm. What if she makes me cough many times in the day while I am away from her ? What if she waits for me in the evenings in her black dress, fallen hair, a red rose, fragrant candles, and a hidden drop of tear and trust in her eye for this hopeless man who in real is just born to live ? Yes, I hope that a girl could lighten up my life. I hope I would get the urge to live the day. I hope my life would make some sense. I imagine her, and I feel blessed and peaceful by her sanctity. Well, then is she there ? Will she be mine ?
I fear she never comes. I fear I will go mad. I fear these good thoughts will cease , and I will end up in the kingdom of boredom. What do I do ? So I imagine broken teeth. I imagine cruel fiery eyes, blacked out. I imagine my beard wet with beer bubbles. I imagine blood in my hands, on my wear, and in my mouth. I imagine a lot of people around me like that. I imagine Tyler Durden. I imagine FIGHT CLUB !!!
The Finally Published Touches My Heart !!!
Enough of the hibernation; I was not lazy but busy. And something, no someone, broke me from the inertia. Well, this note is about 'someone'. All say that man is the distinct creature in the universe because of his ability to think. But I would say he is distinct and superior than all known and unknown beings because of his ability to feel and to emote.
Read Poornima Vijayan and know what I mean. The brilliant expression of her feelings is the one of the finest contemporary writings I have read. The writing is very different and unique. It is not that usual loquacious or verbose content made decorative, which diverts the reader from the crux with the most intricate details of anything and everything. Instead, there is LIFE in the words. Also, there is an inspiring remarkable picture in every post to match the mood. Ohhhhh.......that one is fantastic, genius !!!
The pride and the (soft) arrogance in the manner of her expressions ironically will make you intimate with the mood as if you feel them and will compel you to think about the rest of her. Women of such a quality have always been of immense interest to men. So I got interested to write about it this time. I doubt if this advertisement is unwanted and preposterous but I will consider myself forgiven for she herself says "I Finally Publish", and this small note of appreciation be treated a review of the published.
Do not forget to peek out to know what she is thinking now......
Read Poornima Vijayan and know what I mean. The brilliant expression of her feelings is the one of the finest contemporary writings I have read. The writing is very different and unique. It is not that usual loquacious or verbose content made decorative, which diverts the reader from the crux with the most intricate details of anything and everything. Instead, there is LIFE in the words. Also, there is an inspiring remarkable picture in every post to match the mood. Ohhhhh.......that one is fantastic, genius !!!
The pride and the (soft) arrogance in the manner of her expressions ironically will make you intimate with the mood as if you feel them and will compel you to think about the rest of her. Women of such a quality have always been of immense interest to men. So I got interested to write about it this time. I doubt if this advertisement is unwanted and preposterous but I will consider myself forgiven for she herself says "I Finally Publish", and this small note of appreciation be treated a review of the published.
Do not forget to peek out to know what she is thinking now......
Which One Shall I Buy ???
I am too much obsessed with searching to buy myself The Laptop. I have been now searching late nights and long weekends. My first requirement is that I need a 15.x inch Non-widescreen display where x >= 0. I feel that a wide screen display makes the laptop too big.
I have come down to these three models [preference in order of appearance] after doing some research, but I am feeling very difficult to choose which one to buy.
1. Dell Latitude D520
Reasons preventing me to buy:
Does not have a SD card reader
Does not seem to have a fire wire slot [not sure]
Is it ok media wise ?
2. HP Pavilion 6000t
Reasons preventing me to buy:
No idea of quality of HP laptops
Widescreen ???
Heard that the customer support is very poor
3. Dell Inspiron E1505
Reasons preventing me to buy:
Seems very very huge
Widescreen
Much Much heavier than the other two
Help me out in choosing the better model and correct me if the reasons preventing me to buy one of the above is incorrect.
Assumptions [Not required to mention at all]:
Anyway, Thanks In Advance !!!
I have come down to these three models [preference in order of appearance] after doing some research, but I am feeling very difficult to choose which one to buy.
1. Dell Latitude D520
Reasons preventing me to buy:
Does not have a SD card reader
Does not seem to have a fire wire slot [not sure]
Is it ok media wise ?
2. HP Pavilion 6000t
Reasons preventing me to buy:
No idea of quality of HP laptops
Widescreen ???
Heard that the customer support is very poor
3. Dell Inspiron E1505
Reasons preventing me to buy:
Seems very very huge
Widescreen
Much Much heavier than the other two
Help me out in choosing the better model and correct me if the reasons preventing me to buy one of the above is incorrect.
Assumptions [Not required to mention at all]:
For programming, internet surfing and little of mediaHope I am not greedy or a miser.
Good Performance, in any way you can imagine
Intel Core 2 Duo
2GB RAM
HDD Capacity >= 120GB
DVD/CD RW
Want to enjoy VISTA
IEEE FireWire Slot
USB Slots
LAN connection Slot
Bluetooth
WiFi
Total cost including buying paper towels for the manufacturer <= 1400 [Ok, negotiable]
No Toshiba and No IBM [I hate them brutally]
Anyway, Thanks In Advance !!!
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