A Window No Doors

Warning:  There's danger ahead  A flood may follow  When you least expect it  There could be questions Pick your best option, Take a run or surrender? I am up to nothing really, Nothing at all, Aiming, Aimlessly, Somedays, I dream, I talk, And I tell, The unfulfilled tale Of a wanderer, Of conflicts, confusion And chaos, Isn't that like drowning? They say hot drinks Bring comfort And these days, I brew my own tea, This is an independent me As independence can be... When survival needs Solitary comfort, Comes the aspiring little Dickensian me! 

4 a.m. A half conscious mind resting on a moist pillow trying to achieve absolute darkness, absolute peace. An hour passes. My grandpa in his suit and tie stands there, like those in the black and grey photographs. I had known him to be a gentleman. It is a reunion of the Ordnance club. A lot of the old officers had arrived. I stood there, afar, glancing with my dreamy eyes. My dad was there too somewhere, I was trying to find him until I got dizzy, a hand pulling me out. I spotted a potbelly and stooping shoulders as I tried to reach for the clock. His moustaches grown white. His smile holding back something. But my grandpa was rather different. The way I imagine poised officers of a British colony. His handshake was firm. His greeting in accordance to the formal affair. If I could find him alone, I'd perhaps ask him a thing or two. 6 a.m. Sun breaks in through the balcony door. I carry my weak legs to shut the light out. 7.30 a.m. Frank Sinatra playing again as ...

"Remember the great principle of your century: always be the contrary of what people expect."  It took almost four nights to finish Stendhal's Red and Black as I now take a little walk around the hostel campus. My mind's in a complete state of unrest, and calculating my own future as I contemplate upon the circumstances of nineteenth-century France. Sorel, the pretentious protagonist whom I really detested in the beginning, for all the reasons that made him a hero of the novel, had me change my mind about him now that I'm eventually done reading the text. It is a world of pretension and hypocrisy, not very unlike ours. I can't really blame Sorel for being a complete hypocrite to climb up the social ladder as those already on top are the ones who have the fortune of both money and power and have even less real personae. It is a society where you have to keep up a face, dress accordingly as it's your clothes that define your social position. It's whe...

sunscreens, sunshades, scarves, umbrellas showers, swimming melons, water-melons mangoes, litchies yogurts, ice-cream, ice-candies amul, creambell, kwality, magnum, gelatin lassi, chaachh, thandai coke, pulpy, orange, blue, fruity golas, bantas nestea, peach tea, fruit-beer slush, shakes, smoothies real, rasna, tang lemon soda, jeera soda dry, burn, boil!!

Maybe the pigeons know, standing on the doors of their tiny homes, A pair I could see, one massaging the other's neck, Stiff on a weekday morning.  Inside, a community adorns the walls; There goes another, carrying a piece to bring home. Would their fathers and their father's father know, Only if I could ask them, If I could make the meaning out from their song, But I sit here in silence, Making peace with my ignorance after all, As the tall buildings grow taller, And these steps taciturn. 

Life is wonderful One of those nights where I am sleepless not a pen in my hand not a paper to write tapping my fingers along the phone blindly following the newsfeed on Facebook What a wonderful life my mother can tell I'm restless through the rapid shaking of my legs after a long conversation she's now fast asleep these hours are getting on to me I know life is wonderful as the years have rolled by from sharing a bed to getting your own room from connected to being disconnected There is that little trick of time when you have to meet to learn important lessons it is wonderful to give those lessons to others from a parent to a child and a child to a parent the silly law of reversal what a beautiful moment to say goodnight and sleep and not to make any sense out of randomness it's not me, it's the mere muse uncut, unedited, freely flowing and raw...