Wings of Dream

Is this life just a path to the place, that we all have come from...

His eye glimmered, with an unending passion,
As his hands worked the soft features of his dream,
Delicately he shaped it, made it real, from his own desire,
Then he breathed life into it, as he watched it fade.

He watched it grow into a beauty, a beautiful nymph,
He gave it everything, desire from his deepest heart.

It had a heart, which beat with every changing season,
It had a soul, which he thought he had owned,
The beauty grew, grew into something he couldn't comprehend
Until it was time to part, but his desires strong not to let go.

Then the story of tears, and sorrow, that passed,
The story of loneliness, that swept across his mind.

He realized that he couldn't shelter his dream for ever,
And agreed to let it free, free into a world of conceit,
But his pride was broken, aged he looked back at time,
Watched his dream bear wings and fly away, loneliness his aid.

He waited, till it had gone out of sight, and then a sigh,
As he picked up his walking stick, with a retreat of an old man.

The Eighth Shell

"...How was i different from them?, I thought, I pondered..."

I sat by my table, with a wine glass, half empty,
And on the table were lined seven shells,
Empty, for they had served their purpose,
And as I sat, the seven memories came to life.

The streets were washed in the yellow light,
As I saw him beat her to death, with bare hands,
His eyes burned with furry, and his hands did the deed,
And I emptied my first shell, as he came crashing down.

My sleep couldn't make peace with me, as the children cried,
They cried in heart chilling screams, as I entered the room,
The mother sat there, eating away, as the kids cried to hunger,
And I emptied my second shell, as her blood splattered the wall.

It was the great war, that made us leave our homes,
And I saw the old man push along his son, youth in his prime,
An able bodied man, but he had lost to slumber and laze,
And I emptied my third shell, and he slept for eternities to come.

He was a rich man, and his richness knew no end,
And at the slave market I saw him, I saw him with his little one,
As men quoted price for her tender skin, I saw the mammon in his eyes,
And I emptied my fourth shell, his riches he couldn't take along.

"Why do they love you more?", he screamed as with an ax he charged,
"Why do they not love me the same", and his envious blows found their mark,
His brother lay in a pool of blood as he cleaned the ax,
And I emptied my fifth shell, as he fell next to his brother.

"I am beautiful", She would chirp in every morning,
"My beauty, knows no boundaries", In the evening I would hear her say,
"You are no beauty", she smirked as she crashed acid on her lover's face,
And I emptied my sixth shell, and to dust her beauty was dethroned.

I loved her more than my life, she was my soul, my beloved,
Until I found her with men, men I had never known,
I found her with lust in her eyes, as she satisfied her carnal needs,
And I emptied my seventh shell, as her naked limp body soaked in blood.

And today I sit here, with a half filled glass in my hand,
And the seven empty shells that line my table,
"How was i different from them?", I thought, I pondered,
"Who will judge me?", I thought as I raised the gun to my head.

Change

"...To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly..."

-Henri Bergson

I need to change. I need to change, and I will repeat it for one last time, "I need to Change".

Its really fun being me, change every six months and become a new person all together, and apparently the six months duration from my last change has come to an end. I actually overstayed the period. (Geeeesh, I am bored).

Ever wondered what change is actually.

Ever wondered why the things you did once upon a time seems to be lame, but were brilliant back then.

It all started one pleasant spring morning, It was my first day at school, obviously a new one. It was my first day as a Columban. Then two years just passed by, like couple of hours, It was there I learned to change.

It was here I learned about 42, answer to life, earth, universe and everything in it. 42 still remains in my memory.

Change started there, I changed from a dumb fellow into a more reserved person, I started giving priorities to people, I started thinking about life.

Then again came a really crucial phase, *boom* The Engineering phase.

It was a cloudy autumn day when I first stepped into the campus, a neatly folded piece of paper held my identification and my pass to everlasting change.

The time period of my change increased drastically, from two years to one year, 3-quarters and then half yearlies. I adapted well to the half yearlies, new semester, new things to look forward to and a bit of holidays in between so that people won't actually notice that you changed.

The latest one lasted a bit more, because of this one person, who actually did have a great deal of influence in my life.

Then again I am here, saying I need a change, its long since I experimented with my self.
I need to get rid of many things, like, the three imaginary friends I have ( Yes I need to grow up ). I need to be more mature, I need to "SPEAK UP" of all things.

Last Saturday, I was wondering why I skip my meal so often when I actually have a good source to order and eat properly according to my taste, well It dawned to me that, I am scared of ordering, BLAH, ( I just don't know why I am so scared, Maybe as D once said, "...I am not ready to face the consequences of my action, so I would rather like to run away from them, or avoid them altogether" ) Well ordering food from outside may seem lame, but for me, its important, It showed me that I was just plain afraid of the consequences of my action.

And again BLAH.

So, once again I say it, I need to change, and its high time, I am bored being me, I need to figure out a new outlook, may be a little talkative this time, or may be a little more serious and scary, or a little more jovial person, but for sure I need to change.

And to conclude this long monologue, I would like to quote Charles Darwin,
"...It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change."

And once again BLAH.

A Random Poem :D( aka The Eclipse )

"...Exist for a cause, wither out without a warning. For the reasons you shine, are less known to Men."

One day, in the corridor,
When my guitar failed to play,
I sat wondering, "Why me god?"
"Why does failure sadden me?"

I heard no sound, no answer,
Yet I yearned for one, as I strained,
Strained to Listen to that little patter,
And the crackling of a dry blade

No answer came that day,
With a sullen heart, I slept, I wept
Still I hoped for an answer, but none came,
Next day, I played again.

God's busy, I said to my self,
And wrote a song, for a busy God,
And I played, and I sung, and I danced along
Till my finger bled, and my throat ached.

Tired, I sat dreaming, and slowly faded away,
Into the night that never ends, I dreamt my way
And that is when I heard his voice,
Like a thunder, echoing through the rain.

"Have you seen an eclipse", the voice asked,
"Yes", I nodded in my dream
"Does the sun, so mighty, chose not to shine,
When the moon shadows its grace?"

I planed on writing more, but I am too lazy, and bored. Please do comment ( Good & Bad both, please ), makes me feel good :)

The Un-great-fool

"...He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has..."
- Epictetus

I am not wise, for I lament for the things I have not, and care even less for the things I have.
"Life"
I have a wonderfully gifted Life, a life which I got through a miracle, a real miracle, but still I play around with it, tossing it around, carelessly, the chances that I might drop and break it, are real high, but still I play around with it.
"Family"
It took a while for me to understand the importance and value of a family. It would be a lie, if I said that I cared for my family, but I have changed, I have become someone who I was not, changed for good, changed for bad. And together with me my family changed. It took me two years in a practical jail to understand what family meant. Now I long to see them, long to be close to them, but the truth is, time has run out, the only thing we as human beings can't control.
"Friends"

The only thing I have in abundance, friends, I can get along with people, easily, without trouble. I have seen people who are really a pain to adjust with, they don't have friends, they just have people around them who sympathize with them, because they don't have friends and because they feel sorry for them. And then there's me, who has his own private world full of friends, and doesn't even care about them. Well I have had complains from many, "...You don't hang around with me these days, you have got better friends than me", ah well they haven't seen me hang around with the "better" friends, I hang around alone, I crib about the lack of friends, I lament about being alone.
"Intelligence"
I have enough Intelligence to last me through my old age dumbness, enough to stand for my own beliefs, to protect my own principles, but I lament, I look at others who are better off than me, and despair for their intelligence, neglecting mine. I let my brain rust, its blunt these days, it requires a good brush up, but I know I will raise again.

"...I have been ungrateful to every one around me, to my friends, who have actually been there during my hard times. My family, because of whom I am what I am. My self, without whom I wouldn't have had this identity of mine."

And towards the end, the golden touch, golden words to give me solace throughout my life, a phrase which would be etched in my memory, which I can use as a defense, to protect my own ungrateful soul from torment.

"The Past is gone, a new beginning awaits you"

Happiness

Typing this thing out, is the easiest way, through which I can get rid of the craving that is slowly and slowly pushing my brain, to think that it exists outside my body. Yesterday was a colorful day, with the trees being green, birds being yellow ( well I don't know how birds look like) and flowers being multi colored, and out of the blue I needed a porcupine, which actually led into a real bad mess (no wonder these animals are protected under law). Things turned out to be so ugly, that I thought it was time for my real half to disappear, and he did so and now I am stuck up here with half a brain typing this out.

So coming to the point, yesterday I was totally kicked around with a volley of fancy words, which were supposed to define the being I am, well my usual answer was "I don't care", but somehow deep within me, I did say "Please can you stop it, you are hurting me". Then there was this little pointing out where the person concerned said, "You are one f***ed up mind. Even an average boy is happier and merrier than you.", well I wanted to ask, "Define happiness dude!!"

That got me thinking, and thinking, and thinking. What exactly is happiness? I tried Mr Google for it, and he gave me a good and satisfiable answer

"Happiness is a state of mind or feeling characterized by contentment, love, satisfaction, pleasure, or joy."
I should be happy according to the definition, I am happy with my life, except for may be an occasional mood swing, which can't be helped. I feel love, I feel pleasure, and I feel joy. So according to the dictionary I am happy, but still why would he say that I am not happy.
The only possible reason I could figure out was because I only shared the sad feelings I had in my life with him, the happy feelings were reserved to my own being.

So as Mr Shakespeare once said, "All is well that ends well", I hope this phase just ends up properly.


Look at the stars, as they shine bright,

Each one its own master, its own slave,

Look at the lone flower that blossoms by,
Under the sun, its happy, it withers, dies

The river flows, alone through the land,
To join a bigger family, underneath the sand.

So why does the world say happiness is lost,
For its just a hands reach away from life.

Reasons - 2

Its been long since I actually wrote something sensible in this blog, ( well apart from the regular poetic explosions of fear and anxiety ). Today was a day I actually ( when I say actually I mean it this time :P ) tried to understand the reasons behind my screwed-up existence. I have had dreams where I was as normal as others were, where I could talk normal things. Think normally. Fall in love, have some one, who holds my hand and walks with me when I am down. Well these were just perfect examples of a perfect life.
Something happened, something which made me believe that there was no turning back, there was no returning from what I am, but as usual- "Who gives a F***". I hate it like this, I hate the reason of my existence, and everything linked to me. Thanks to a handful of people, I still breath ( not fresh air though :D ), I just wish I had a time machine, but well people would have missed "me" then.


I knew a man with no face,

No face to remember by.
I knew a memory with no name,
No name to recall it by.

The night was in its youth,
When two hands touched,
The night was in its death bed,
When the dreams were shattered.

So I stand tall, to protect my dreams,
And to do what is best for me,
So I stand up against all fears,
But still the night crushes me down.

I knew a man with no face,
Because I choose to forget,
I knew a memory with no name,
Because I hated to recall it.

Reasons

I waited, under the orange sunlight,
Waiting for the reasons to dawn,
Every night, I sleep with questions,
Every day I try to find the reasons.

There was this time when reasons didn't exist, I was happy, then from somewhere, someone gave me a reason for doing things. I split my self. I searched for reasons, reasons to be happy, reasons to be sad, reasons to love and reasons to hate. There was this time, when reasons became everything in life, reasons became the only reason for existence. I searched the depths of humanity for the reasons of war, why a man loves his beloved. Reasons started governing my life, reasons started directing my actions, my choices. I became enslaved to reasons.


He had this smile, when he kissed her lips,
He had this feeling, which love could only give.
He lived for her, and he died for her,
But today he asks, 'why should I without reasons to give'.


If there were a purpose for survival, I would search for it, but why, I would still ask, "Reasons" are like Ideas. They destroy the very instinct to survive.

I am just afraid that someday I may start asking for reasons to survive, "What is use of life itself. No reasons.".


I miss him, the kid who did things without reasons. I miss him, for he was free, free to do what he wished for. That kid grew into a man who needs reasons to exist, reasons to survive.

I feel like the third servant of the rich man, who hid his money, without utilizing it. I feel like him, and I am afraid that on the day of judgement, I would be asked "Why didn't I utilize the talents that were given to me?", I am such a shame, a failure, just because I ask for reasons to share. I am afraid I might start asking reasons to care and to love.

He waits for the rain to go,
As it floods his inner soul,
Is it despair or a quest for reason,
He doesn't know, He doesn't ask,
Soon silence will descend,
No reason would exist,
Then again he would ask,
Give me the reason, reasons to survive,
Give me freedom,
freedom from the reason that enslaves
Give me peace, and give me life,
For reasons exist, for those who seek,
Those who seek the reason to Life.