Reminiscence of My Life.....

I am Nervous! Yet I do not know why?.....


Unmomentness….


Mind loses to understand
the moment of truth that I currently stand
Love lost and castaway
I wish my life was taken ... away

The trees above me shed leaves....
as they fall on my sleeves
that it is time to bid goodbye
pack the past and bid with a sigh

Like a scavenger I gather them a handful
join my hands to heap them ...full
but truant wind comes by
sieving all that gather to dust dry!


As I take a backward step and behold
I repeat the verse that was always told
Why do I stand forsaken...
lost in the sea of unmomentness?
perhaps the wind wishes to break the calmness!


The leaves crumple under my feet
as I walk down the deserted lane
hopelessly wandering
patiently wanting......
this moment to end.....


down an ally as I gather up my grit
I hear a voice full of wit
Behold yourself for what you are
you could rise above the tar!

I hold myself to the voice strong
as I draw a puff..... long
…..and make way for home
I end my heart to roam....

The next morning is calm
Sun soothing and balm
A puff across the window pane
and the last night feelings begin to wane...

As the sun strokes my arms
everything begins to calm...
I decide to call it a day
and lead the journey another way...


A smile flashes, wiping misty eyes....
yesterday is gone... nothing to despise...
I begin a journey taking another road...

with sky in hand and the heat of sun....
my journey begins....again.....

Forsaken....

And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
Matthew 27:46, King James Version

The Retarded Truth!

'tis gone!
but what was it!
that morphed me into thinking
how does life prevail
many steps it entails
pale.....
snail....
tale.....
stories is the spice!
each different
the more the better
does life have variety?
sinks in the retarded truth for an anwser?
why do we look for spice?
or why do we remember a moment... much even after its moment!
why?
perhaps life seeks pleasure in bigamy with spice and remeberance.....
if one in non satiation then what does two signify?

Dreams entwine the Life around me...

Don't need another reason to dream... its a future reality... but there are some dreams that metamorphosize into unborn reality...subliming away to glory....a sense of unborn truth...a forsaken one......

Here we go....

Unborn Dreams (Kachche Khwaab)

The noblest jewel in my hand
I forsake it not
Coz they are mine
And only mine

When my hands unfold
The smell! Only I can feel
When some drops sublime
Taking the heat from sun
The Agony only my eyes can seal!

They gallop within my heart
But never tell
In the drops in the eyes
They dwell

Their longing for a mould
Their penchant for being unfold
And yet happy
Perishing slowly to a glory away

Deep within the heart when they rest
Finally before being lost in the bed
Beneath the rocks,
They unwind my consciousness
That layth fragile and weak
Game to the worldly seeks

The shout cannot be heard
The groans no trace!
Only a mild vapour!
Alas a mild vapour....

Mind is where the Heart is!

Where lies my heart!
Am a par Dreamer
or a Wanderer
Chasing the fickle dreams
That never promise to come again!

What is my heart!
That shows not its melting potion!
That laughs louder than others!

What is my mind!
A little witty, Confused,
suffused with the thought
of a "what is going to happen next?"

Actually, It follows my heart!
Because the heart does the balancing act!
Beneath the mirth lies a thought of restless ness
grief if i may say!
And suddenity! Surprisingly surprise!

And my mind follows it
like an able brother!

Bombay was never ever better

The braod lanes
Sunkissed window panes
The bus stops and ques
Trains shouting out their sinew
Bandra, Khar, Colaba
Nariman Point!
Through the eyes
of movies bouyant!
with the hidden spirit of Mumbai....

Am i telling too much?

Can't do without complaining that i was not alive...
to feel the Bamly Bombay winds during Basu Chatterji Days
Can't believe that the then Bombay is no more!
And u still live it in his movies!
A subjugation to the then life of commoners
of mothers bothering about Mr. Right for their daughters!
The good and gentle beginning of Baboodom!
Of marriages and remarriages, of little jokes and that!
Once was Bombay what you see through his lens!

Perhaps not another city can beat its then charm!

It satisfies to see that the hero in his films is a commoner, a dreamer and a doer.
And the heroine as charming as a fresh dew resting on a sweetpea shrub! (highly influenced by Tina Munim's looks in Baaton Baaton Mein)

The tales are highly simple and predictable. The Order of difference lies in the telling ..... where each time a catalyst directs the story to its normal course with a pinch of fun and laughter.....

Can't rest without thinking....

But then later....