I dearly miss you. The you that was with me. I wish you'd come back to me. I wish you'd stayed. I wish you loved me , the song you couldn't convey. I feel your presence , even with the distance, I'm tired of my own insistence, I wish I wasn't played.

Grief

Dear friend,
It's been two years since I've written to you. I have a lot to say yet I , like every diary writer who hasn't written for a while, don't know where to begin. So, lets start. I am a school teacher now. My previous posts were all about dentistry and now I look back and feel like I am a whole new person looking at reflection of what I once used to be. The essence remains vaguely familiar yet strangely foreign.

Yesterday, at work, some teachers were discussing about a student in the 8th grade who lost her father 2 days before Christmas. They were a bit puzzled to why she hadn't shown any visible signs of grief to any of her friends or family or teachers. I generally don't interfere in personal discussions yet I mentioned that grief is such a private emotion. Not everyone has the strength or personality or the will to show it publicly. Despite the constant nature of it , one could only be able to catch glimpses of it in people, and that too, if you are really willing to look. Unfortunately, and I knew this was coming, the teachers asked me how did I know so much in depth of such a primal emotion.I poignantly exclaimed by saying, someone left me on Christmas too.

I remember reading somewhere that the holidays are generally tough for people because of the expectation to be constantly cheery and happy, which puts a lot of pressure on those who struggle with the basics of being alive. Needless to say, the holidays have always been hard on me. Yet, in my travels, I recently met 2 Swedish drug and alcohol addicts who have been sober for years. Their journey of self discovery, acceptance and growth brought so much strength to me. I knew I'd never see them again, yet I would always value the lesson that brief , chance occurrence taught me; that there is more to life than this (whatever this means),  and I need to keep the journey going and maybe one day, all this ( whatever this means) would make sense, because to quote the Indonesian band Peterpan, " I can tolerate this pain, I just can't understand it."

A friend of mine once told me that he doesn't pursue happiness anymore, I never understood that because I always felt that the pursuit of happiness is what gives us purpose, and a goal to live a full life. I understand him now, though still being optimistic about hope and happiness, that sometimes, we need to stop trying to run behind things that seem to give us joy, and to just focus on the details of our now. The now that probably is happy but we can't see it, yet.

My year started off with a lot of grief; people leaving, bus banging into trees, and pots and pans falling onto my head,  but I'm going to focus on the details, the now, because I am sure, 10 months from now, I'd laugh this all off. At least I hope I do.

I try not to be solitary anymore. I make efforts. I guess if I ever wanted to be appreciated for anything in life is the fact that I did not give up. I pulled through. Letting go of a career that I once loved dearly or even the people in my life, it broke me, but I pulled through. I made uncertainty my friend and trusted my instincts. I don't see myself as a failure, but an unexpected success story, I wish people saw how hard it was for me and believed that too.

I guess I wrote a lot for one day. I don't know when my next post would be. However, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading.

Always.

The Conditioned Mind Moves In Autopilot.

Dear friend,
Everyday, i cross a broken ceramic statue of lovers. the mans head is broken. the statue was placed on a wall next to a villa. i guess the owners were hoping that the garbage lady would come and take it away. however, no one has touched it. when the sun shines from behind, its like it was never broken. perception is fun. every time i cross it, the words "hand.cannot.erase" comes into my mind. its a very poppish song but the words run deeper than the song,

i found the soundtrack to the game i used to play as a child. i was overwhelmed with nostalgia. so many memories scattered , ran through my mind like a film running through a projector. i cannot bring that time back, though through listening to those songs, i relived my childhood. all that time lost, saddens me.

i remember writing about a bougenvilla tree i used to cross everyday when i was in college and now i write about a broken statue. it made me realize that our life runs in cycles of highs and lows, yet there will be something always common to each phase. i relive situations and i know how to feel and know what to say because not so long ago, i lived something similar if not exactly the same. the conditioned mind moves in autopilot.

we may never be able to relive the past with the same people coz people come and go, yet ive realized that emotions can be re-felt. its a dangerous realization coz  it could be assumed that people are disposable. they arent! however, we dont have a control over life.we cant control who stays and who leaves us. all i am saying is,people tend to adapt well to change even if it does take a bit of time.

i feel preachy again. i feel that alot. i shouldnt have gone into deep meditation after all. i was happier being a superficial person to whom ignorance was bliss.


Always,

buying a new soul

dear friend,
yes, i know i ripped off the title from a steven wilson song. its funny, how I always land up listening to that song after listening to a billion other things. so, for the past 6 days, ive been attending an art class. i wanted to learn a new style of painting with epoxy resins and acrylics. the instructor told me that he had nothing new to teach me after he saw my work and curiously asked  from which art college did i graduate from. he said i needed to teach instead of learn after i told him i was trying my hand at ebru painting and tried to create my own ebru paints since its not available in the country i live in. i finally finished my painting today. i got alot of appreciation for it too. it saddens me though, the idea of being good in such a solitary hobby. i can sit for hours alone being engrossed in the details of it all. i wonder if im good at art because of the lack of people around me or i prefer art over having people around me. is it my refuge or my catharses?

i feel stuck. people say that my life is going to change soon;great adventures are going to be a part of my life etc. time is all that i need. when will my time come? sometimes i think things will change for the better in a new place,with new people where i  will have a chance to start over, away from everything. a new life.when will my time come?

"i woke up and i had a big idea
to buy a new soul at the start of every year
i paid up and it cost me pretty dear
here's a hymn for those that disappear"

always

Cageing Ageing

Dear friend,
I stood in front of the mirror today. I tried to figure out who I was and what I became in 9 years. Ive forgotten most of my childhood and early adulthood. Its like I woke up with a delete button and instead of deleting the bad stuff, I deleted all the good. Ive aged. I have wrinkles around my eyes when I smile and I have white hair. What started out as a single white strand at the age of 18 has ploughed its way through my field of hair and manifested as a salt and pepper pattern. luckily, Im still more of pepper. Im not the person I used to be at the age of 18 but I still have random memories that bind me to the past. I look back at my past entries and it seems like a completely different person wrote them. I fear that one day, Ill look into the mirror and I wont know who I am.
Im slowly beginning to accept the idea of being all by myself and thats how it can be and should be.
I dont know if this is a dark place or reality. Time will tell.

Always

Song writing.

Dear friend,
I'm song writing. I didnt know I could be good at it since I've tried my hand at it back in college. I guess all I needed was my bluke ( blue ukulele). I hum, I sing and then I write. But the again, I always wrote. what kind of music do I make? the better question would be , what kind of music would I like to make? I dont think I have it all figured out but I know I want my songs to belong to a nostalgic moment, the ones you look back to and smile and feel bittersweet about. I want my songs to be the words of a sentiment unable to be spoken. I want it to be a glowing memory of a time gone by, never to return, yet somehow, can always be revisited; to be omnipresent in times of nostalgia that lingers on a cold,lonely rainy day to bring forth a warm comforting embrace.

Do I sound reasonable (yet) ?

Always

Melancholia, again

Melancholia, again
trying to keep it at the surface
but it sinks in, unexpectedly
untimely, and without reason
I push it out but it never stays beyond
melancholia, again
always coming back like a lost lover
fight it, fight it, fight it.
melancholia, again
when will I truly be free?

For Blue Skies

You and i belong to a scene
Where the grass is green
And the skies are blue
And I'll play my ukulele for you

We will sit out in a field
In a dream world covered by a shield
Aloud, to me you read
Wisdom and nature our mind will heed

Lazing around on our blanket
Waiting around for a sunset
The winds blowing out a breeze
The pale yellow,orange,red of leaves

For you and i belong to a scene
Where the grass is green
And the skies are blue
And I'll play my ukulele for you

It's OK.

Dearest one,

I know you read my work. It's OK.
even if we are far and done
I know you still look at me. It's OK
even though in this cycle, you've won
I know our words lie in silence. It's OK
even if my thoughts can't speak or reckon
I know, you know, it's all OK.

Always,

A Few Radical Ways to Let Go of Someone Whom You Thought Was Your Kindred Spirit

Yes, I decided to use a long yet self explanatory title. Let's just make this as painless as it can be.

1) Isnt it simple, dont consider him to be your kindred spirit.

2) Assume that your favorite celebrity asked you out and you are the luckiest person coz he picked you over all the other groupies, admirers and flousies. you are indeed special. (NOTE: it doesn't work when your favorite celebrity is your object of affections. In fact, it's quite detrimental. You see his posters and youtube videos everywhere. Torture! )

3) Assume that the person who's the object of your affections is a sociopath/psychopath/dowry taker/wife beater. If you were together, he'd probably make you do all the house work and never let you do things that liberate you. You'd probably wear a burqa or a sari for the rest of your life and never leave home coz hes just that kind of guy. Consider yourself lucky that you got "saved" from that.

4) Know that even if u held a flashy neon sign on the road or advertised your feelings on a billboard for him to see, he will still turn a blind eye.

5) Know that even if you are at your best with him, he will always find someone else more pretty, more talented and more interesting than you. Its not because of any flaws in you. Its coz he cant see through you. You can never justify why you are the way you are in his eyes. While hes out there, looking for someone better than you, know that you deserve someone who is 10 times better than him and that the person he is looking for, will never sum up to who you are.

6) If he was really your reflection, he would mirror you, not walk away even when you have unsolvable issues. You rather be with a person who says," NO, I will stay in your life and we will figure this out , however long it takes." rather than "NO, I don't want you anymore. you are too complicated"

7) If he really wanted to be with you, he would. NO excuses. If he really cared, he would talk to you. NO excuses.

8) Assume that if he got you pregnant, he would have chucked you out of the house in the cold harsh winter and would never open the door for you.

Maybe one day, you don't have to assume anymore. You will find someone who will be a rock star in your eyes and you know that he , in his wildest dreams, will never hurt you. On the contrary, will let you fly. In all your mess, he finds solace and becomes a pillar of strength for you too and will always open doors for you, whatever the weather outside. Till then, I'm willing to assume.

my 20 year old will fly.

I wrote this poem to go along with a piece of art i had made a few days ago. I dont understand why the young and clueless are the ones who are most targeted when it comes to betrayal, abandonment and fraud. why dont people realize that the young should be given wings to fly, not clip then down. even though i wrote this poem for a particular person, i hope it applies to all the 20 year olds out there who are beginning to step into adulthood.

streams, stream out layers
patterns,dreams,directions to share
fish swimming against the tide to try
my 20 year old will fly

through the flames that blaze
beyond thickened fogs of haze
breaking through burnt woods of ply
my 20 year old will fly

curtains through winds rise and float
compromise being a part of life's boat
when the world will cover and shy
my 20 year old will fly

lengths of tall trees that form high
beyond nests of great birds lie
gliding beyond serene blue skies
my 20 year old will fly.


my 20 year old will indeed fly.  atleast, i really hope he does.

Pe n Nuts

I generally don't  write erotica. Though i got heavily inspired by a family member and an episode of house for this poem. I realised i love to tell stories in rhyme. Maybe  one day i can do something about this. Hope you enjoy my new poem!


Pe n nuts
There was a boy named peter
Never knew anyone more sweeter
He had a mad love for peanuts
Here is a story  about his guts
Allergic,his throat swelled each time,greater
He had  never tasted  anything  better
He kept risking to grab a bite, a taste
In forms solid, liquid or paste

Warned  time and again  by his doctor
It will choke n kill you  like a boa constrictor
Peter agreed  to give up his delights
And  walked out without  putting up a fight

In sadness,  he went to a hooker        
Licked her up n down like a steam rollar
Little did he know she was covered in peanut body cream
" Holy  PEANUTS!" In climax,peter screamed!

Rushed to the hospital in a stretcher
All he thought was bliss came closer
Arrived n treated by a bemused doctor
"U are lucky ,dear boy, death was a close encounter"

"Peanuts, why do i give you a soft corner?"
Cried peter,looking at a food chart poster
Walked in a nurse,with his medication
He stared at her with deep admiration

Her eyes were never so lighter
Than  peanuts  kept in a canister
Her lips,when  moved so quick
He felt a quiver in his dick

"Ill give  up all my vices for u,my dear"
"Every form of peanuts",yelled peter
"Roasted, toasted,salted,fried"
Listening to his sacrifice,the nurse sighed

"You love me and your life now, i infer"
Mused the nurse, coming a bit closer
"You matter more to me than pleasure"
"Wont u put always in our forever?"
                                                                      The doctor came in,"its so clear!!
 A treatment amongst all this blur
The day is saved with the help of our nurse
Or you would have left in a hearse    

Here, ill end my story of Peter
 Who found his life partner
With his obsession of pe n nuts  
 Pe n nuts , pe n nuts,  pe n nuts

Destruction And Clearance

Its a sad kind of disappearance
The one that easily isnt spoken about
A cycle of destruction n clearance
A song flows through my mouth

Of a time of love and indulgence
Coveted dreams of the south    
Promises made and assurance
One wouldn't leave the other without
   
Its a sad kind of disappearance
Gently quietened after a brief shout
No one to reclaim occupance
Fields destroyed, a prolonged drought

Oceans Bay

Writers note : this is by far, my oldest and most beloved self written poem. I can forget the other stuff Ive written, but never this one. I wrote this when I was 13 and I feel, looking back, I knew alot more about life back then than I do now. Uncertainity does that to us adults, I guess. Well here goes! :D

I'm at the oceans bay,
waiting for the waves to take me away
Ah! my friends, you dont have to wait,
as now I see the heaven's gate

I hear drums beating at a distance,
Is this the end of my existance?
If yes, why so?
Is it really time for me to go?

Power Over Me

Writers note- I wrote this poem when I was in college. I sometimes think I wrote more frequently back in the day than what I do now. mind fuzz I guess. the reason why I want to publish this one again is because it has always been one of my works I was particularly proud off. Now I just think its cheesy and dramatic. Guess nostalgia does play a role in most of the things I do. I am making certain alterations from the original, coz face it, an 18 year olds English isn't as good as a 26 year olds. :D

Unlike the love that transends time
the shadows beneath the burden of being mime
how to prove that love isn't a delusion?
a true pious feeling,amongst my life's confusion
thou shall not feel the pain I feel
thou shall not b the 1 in front I knell
the love I feel isn't a phase

not even a simple teenage craze

you ask me, why I walk alone?

because you aren't there to hold my hand to take me home

you say, I'm not the prettiest of the lot
Doesn't that make you shallow, have you given it a thought?
the summer grass glitters in rain
like tears from sad eyes that drain.
Don't you see what have you done to me, loved one?
engulfing me,with grief of our love song
over the greatness of the human spirit
Why do I see in your eyes, loss, pain and guilt?
Don't you see,it hurts me to endless sorrow?
If I feel this, how is my love so hollow?
I wish for this day to end to replant my loves seed
for the endless loss, my heart can no longer breed
my solace is your garden,
roses and their thorns that you allowed to sharpen
I feel I've lost you, like a coin lost at sea
and you call it a delusion, your power over me.

an inspired limmerick

Writers note: a friend of mine recently told me a story about a man who only saw the positive in a trashy situation. I got heavily inspired by it n wrote a small limmerick based on her story.  Here it goes. ...

I stood under a sky so gloomy  
Unable to feel the sun
It shines on clouds,not on me
Non the less,  it shines, I learn

The Fall

Writers note: A friend and I were working together for a song a long time ago. He worked on the music and I worked on the lyrics. In the end, we decided to leave out the lyrics and let the song be as it was, instrumental. here is my rendition of the song I loved very much.

In the season of summer
I came to know of a new expression
I came across a new lover
This is my sincere confession

Along came the season of fall,
 I knew that eternity in her eyes wasn't forever
Shattering what I had thought was true
Like every changing season, I was her changing weather
If my chest held a glass window
Like one of those houses with a view
A beating dark heart, it would show
Along with an incandescent hue

Let me fall into your arms,
Don't ever let me fall down
Let me fall into your arms
Don't ever let me fall down


For the music freaks out there, do check out my friend, he's really good. This is his rendition of the song.
https://soundcloud.com/rbhansingh/the-fall

gardens

my heart is like a garden,
it flowers alot of emotion
blooming a dream forbidden
only to accept a life based on conditions

find me, so we could laugh and play
under blue skies and day
find me, but this time please stay
looking at the stars, on a sheet we lay

my heart is like a garden
rooting for a stem of desires
caressing a soul once forgotten
planting a flame of fires

meet me at the brink of dawn
where banglorean roses grow in a lawn
meet me,when your love is born
to fill me up, a ghost forlorn

for my heart is a garden
it grows alot of fear and hope
that in time, when the branches harden
you would see we had scope

Never Forever

in pursuit to make a new memory
i wonder if you'll walk by again
with all your charm and chivalry
ill have to restart from where i began

there is nothing left for you here
dont come by again,ever
the birds have flown away from where u were
silence left in our forever

roots cut off from trees
always find  way to grow back
this is my moment to seize
to put my life back on track

i live in a dark place, dear
dont come by again, ever
to search my light beyond my fears
silence left in our forever

stay where you are or go far
the winds lead the way
different lives to be lead at par
hoping they keep u at bay

the train and the valley
dont come by again, ever
forming only distant memories
putting never in our forever.

Seasons

"What are we?"a constant doubt that lingered along
He didnt understand my depth of attachment
We are two renditions of the same song
One melodious n loved, the other poetic and spent.
                                       
Walk away, a little voice said to survive
Grief is a loss never worthy to be found                                    
be sagacious,a virtue to imbibe
All I could hear is our songs sound

Days go by by counting fallen autumn leaves
Collected in a corner to form a heap
A heavy sigh once did I heave
that why out of faith, did I leap?

The snow that falls leaving prints    
Never to last long enough to memorise
The cold leaves that loose its pigments
The emptiness,hard to summarise