Demise

Yet again, the standing ovation amused Him;
Just as the curtains dropped and lights dimmed.
In the distant night an owl cried;
Just as His chest swelled up with unconcealed pride.

In the dimly lit stage He was greeted by a venerable friend,
Who would soon become the reason for His untimely end.
This was no mere cordial greeting;
As he brought with him news of Her well being.

She is taken ill- He was told;
Which gave Him fearsome shudders like a raging cold.
Not taking a minute longer to savor victory's taste;
He embarked on a journey homeward bound with much haste.

                        -X-

Impatient, He knocked on the door once again;
Very much like injured, aid-seeking men.
A pale countenance appeared behind the door,
With a radiant smile that impaled His being to the very core.

After the preliminary exchange, they sat down to dine
At the table where they shared a hearty meal and wine.
The fondness of Her company put Him at ease,
Too bad She will depart with Him soon to a land of eternal peace.

At the stroke of midnight, they retired to bed
Not aware of the fact that one of them would soon end up dead.
The warmth of the velveten sheets soon worked it's magic
As She took in Her last breath which was truly tragic.

                         -X-

Basking in the frail morning light, He called out Her name,
Only to realize that Death had engaged in and won the ultimate game.
His throat issued a choked howl outrageously meek
Accompanied by salty beads of tears rolling down His cheek.

The abasement of desolation muffled His ears like a noiseless din,
Death had tricked Him by taking Her away for her unsung sin.
Slowly, pain turned to sorrow, sorrow to vehemence;
Anger perverted His broken mind to seek vengeance.

                         -X-

Tossing the shovel aside, He found himself in a rectangular pit,
Which He had been fashioning since the Earth's prompt torch was lit.
He climbed out of the grave enveloped in receding sorrow
And set off into the bare expanse believing He'd be alive tomorrow.

At sunset He returned to the make shift grave,
Harboring melancholic plans which He would soon enslave.
In the grave He carefully positioned Her lifeless corpse
After which He cascaded red rose petals on Her like agile rain drops.

He moved His hand under His burnous to retrieve The Book of Demise
That will presumably resurrect Her and put an end to His silent cries.
He read out the incantations in a voice that reverberated with ardor,
Not lifting His eyes off the corpse which had long succumbed to rigor.
                              
He continued in a voice that was reduced to a wretched sigh
His faltering faith threatening to run dry.
As the invisible clock steadily ticked away,
The night was slowly dying out, making way for yet another dreary day.

                         -X-

A golden sun started to rise from a distant mountain
Just as a cluster of clouds gathered, wailing in unison. 
This damp outburst failed to foil His ongoing task
As He continued His furious drone hoping reality would unmask.

The descent of teeming water didn't seem to stop,
The early Sun accentuating the amber form of every raindrop.
Amidst the disarray of yellow, a chasm of white appeared
Followed by a bellowing vociferation that premiered.

Lightning struck the engrossed man
Imbibing the life out of Him like nothing can.
Then, down went his body accepting demise
As He had acted on a fallible premise.

Televised Déjà Vu

Not unlike the many generic sitcoms about a group of (mostly)single and exceedingly codependent friends that's raging through televisions these days, How I Met Your Mother and Friends manage to take co-dependence to a WHOLE other level. They run along similar lines, portraying relationships, love, friendship that is accompanied by mindless bickering over trivial issues and the very often showcased meddlesome behavior.

Now for the reasons WHY these two shows evoke an undeniable sense of  déjà vu:


#1 Both the shows are about a group of (mostly)single friends. What's with all these shows these days? Seriously. ALL of them revolve around the concept of marriage and the complications of relationships and dating. And by 'all' I mean almost EVERY sitcom that is aired on Indian television, such as Rules of Engagement and Better With You and um.....Cougar Town(These are the only ones that almost immediately popped up in my head)!

#2 The popular hangout spot. If it's MacLaren's in How I met Your Mother, it's Central Perk in Friends. The particular in-groups seems to spend a suspicious amount of time with each other  in their respective spots than at their own places or their jobs, which makes me wonder if they are ALL on whimsical, protracted sabbaticals.

#3 There is this one guy in the group who is the over-enthusiastic womanizer who seems to harbour the sexual impulse of  a deranged, isolated sociopath and just HAS to spend every night with a model-like(often blonde) woman that he picked up at the bar using an asinine pick up line due to his raging need for preserving his self worth.

#4  Next, both the shows have this couple-Lily and Marshal in How I Met Your Mother and Monica and Chandler in Friends- who are in a relationship at the beginning of the series and end up getting married(with a baby on the way, even if it IS a surrogate baby)in one of the following seasons.

#5 Then, there is this ONE chick who has to learn that she is incapable of having  a baby( This works the first time around, but just comes off as predictable when weaved into the plot of How I Met Your Mother, regardless of the fact that these two shows were developed over a decade apart).

Well, that's it. These are a few things that often readily float through my head while watching any one of these shows. These fictional details are irrelevant, yes. But the similarities are noteworthy. So, here's the note!

(PS: Excuse the sorry excuse for a joke, I was only trying)

Time: Miracle Worker

I have always wondered where people would place me on the scale of niceness. Taking everyone's opinion into consideration, I stand at opposite ends of the spectrum almost all the time. Some of them tell me I am nice while some think that I am downright nasty and pretentious.

But as far as I can remember, I made it a point to be nice to people as much as I can for the recent couple of years now. It remained a mystery to me until recently as to why I tried my best to be nice. It's a mystery no more and I made the realization eventually: I had this uncontrollable need to please people.

I did everything I could to appear nice, and would do things even if they were beyond my means to get someone to feel satisfied; it gratified me to see other people around feel good. This would be the only explanations as to why I handed in my assignments and homework on time, I would let people make decisions when in a group and have it their way fearing that contradiction from my side would get them to hate me. Hate me so much that they would hold a life long grudge against me. At this one point in time, I even made sure that I pleased people who I didn't like, people who didn't like me and strangers even!

I simply couldn't repress my need to impress. But then it changed, I changed. I was no longer the person who'd have the desire to impress people. It took time but it happened and I can see it now. This change can not be confined to just this phase of my life alone.

Till I was 15, I was silent and reserved, I preferred not talking to people because I didn't particularly enjoy it and liked keeping my opinions and thoughts to myself. I kept them buried deep within my mind; shielding them from criticism and possible censure. I stuck to my own circle of friends, talking to other people only when I absolutely needed to.

When in the company of others, I preferred to shut up. I liked to listen to other people talk, acting as an oblivious fly on the wall that would go unnoticed. I liked it that way, I didn't have anything to worry about. As the clock ticked away this slowly vanished too- I started initiating conversations and my conversational skills have certainly gotten better.

I was no more a fly on the wall, I had evolved into something noticeable, say, a butterfly or probably something less striking; like a moth. I was no longer in that fear and apathy coated cocoon that seemed to curb my every venture, tightly wrapping every possible fibre of adventure I'd have.


Time is always working on things and people- just as it had worked on me- making them better, sometimes giving hardships but things always change. I have realized that life is almost full of change and the only thing that doesn't change is the occurrence of change itself. In other words, change will change eventually. Change is the ever present milestone down every road that you might take that sometime showers us with misfortune and sometimes lets a little sweet serendipity and luck cascade on us.

Time truly is a miracle worker.

Apple Thoughts

Crimson hued,
Smell of bliss;
The sound
Of your presence
Changing my mood,
All I want
Is to feel
Your smile
Echo on
My lips:
Apple.

The appeal of red,
The voluptuous contour,
All I want
Is to seize
Your essence
That delivers
Freedom:
Apple.

Your sweet
Flawless skin,
As modest as
An autumn night,
All I want
Is to hold you
And feel your
Silent symphony
Resonate off
My skin:
Apple.

Of Trees And Clouds

In the language of the era, inspiration is that which makes you want to be something, something that you look up to in reverence, something that motivates you to act on an impulse or create something.

For me, oddly shaped trees are a source of psychedelic inspiration. Despite their immobile presence, they somehow speak of movement through their meandering branches. The twisted off shoots from the trunk tell me that one is free to venture out into whatever direction that pleases them and that conformity is necessary only so far as long as common wisdom guides you. Conformity acts as a restricting shackle that wields your mind to think, and often act on those thoughts, in a predefined, dystopian way. Interlacing branches from trees inspire thoughts of freewill, instilling in me the desire to branch out from the tree of society and civilization.

An interesting tree I ran into.

This cloud was so oddly shaped, I just had to put this up.

Clouds, shoddily sprawled all over the nebulous sky, never fail to inspire me, not unlike trees. Their different forms represent different ideas. When in a light bouncy form, they speak of a carefree nature that does not like to be tethered down. One is free to venture out into this world of endless possibilities just as an clouds saunter the infinite sky.

In short, oddly shaped trees and renewing clouds inspire me to venture out without any social constraints and inhibitions. 

Green Hued Neighbours.

A recent conversation comes to mind when a stranger of sorts asked me an exceptionally simple question- "Do you believe it God or Karma or anything at all?"

Aliens.

I told him that I believed in aliens. My prompt reply was rather hilarious to the informal interrogator. Why people dismiss the possibility of life on another planet of another galaxy is beyond me. I've tried to explore their line of reasoning and have arrived at one of many explanations.

Human beings are so vastly narrow minded that they cannot fathom the mere idea of extraterrestrial life. Our spectrum of thought is so confined to our egocentric way of life that this idea seems to upset  us, somehow make us insecure and belittled.

Are we threatening by the thought that these supposedly "green sinked beings" are going to annihilate our race? Or is it just that we do not want to share our glorious existence with other beings?

Whatever the reason, our narrow mindedness seriously unsettles me as the possibilities are endless. If only we know! 

Mirthless Mirth

As I wakefully walk through the wooded land
My eloquent earthman eyes observe
The devoted dreary darkness laugh,
The graceful green grass chuckle,
The wandering wicked wind giggle,
The tattered twisted trees cackle,
The ominous overlooking owl smirk,
The nebulous narcissistic night sky snicker,
The mad mirthful moon sneer,
And the shoddily slung stars snort,
Since subtly secretive sleep sniggers,
For it knows it will remain elusive forevermore.

An Inviting Abyss

Images fleet,
Sounds subdue,
Smells dissipate,
Taste vanishes,
Pain fades.

Numb, I go.

Numb.

As I fall into
An infinite abyss
Writhing thoughts straighten 
Just as my senses
Rebel against my being.

The fall seems never-ending,
The darkness of the abysmal space
Strangely inviting,
I succumb
Not willing to engage in a futile fight.

Leaves Of An Unsung Rhythm

Moving to an unsung rhythm
Whispering a wordless song,
The Greens rustle about playfully
Not minding the wind’s musical ferocity.

Moving to an unsung rhythm
Whispering a wordless song,
Rustic Reds and dull Yellows mouth a morbid dirge
Anticipating that which ruthless Future holds.

Moving to an unsung rhythm
Whispering a wordless song,
The long gone Nascents swan away
Accepting all.

Phantom Lie

The crooked tree swaying,
The music of the wind playing,
The green hued foliage dancing,
I feel the sharp blades
Of grass stick out
While I lay recumbent
In the shadow,
Just watching.

A shadow so soothing,
The feeling among the dancing leaves
calming, I lay awake
Enjoying the serenity
The repose has to offer me.
The coolness of the twilight wind
Blows away the wispy reality of sadness
Leaving behind bleary remains.

The grass, the tree, the wind
And the gloaming sky
Remind me that sadness
Is nothing more than a lie
Emerging from thought.


A phantom lie.

Herculean Clouds

They move.

They look down.

They do so emphatically,
Taking forms that hold meaning
Unknown to us measly souls.

They harbour an air of majesty
That increases with progression.
We know not if they laugh
Or cry at our mundane lives.

Yet we make sense,
Thoughts nothing more than ashen remains;
With warped perceptions guiding us.
They seem to move at a constant pace,
Their faceless faces hiding truth.


They laugh.

The herculean clouds.

When shadows haunt you
Chaos and mayhem
Is what you pursue.
Abandoned by light
Knowledge striving to
Render you blind,
All that keeps you sane
Is the reality that also gives you pain.

The urge
To speak prevails.
My mouth moves in
soundless motion,
My mind clouded
And baffled by
This mundane commotion.

Purpose

We walk on
Purposeless, waiting for the realization to dawn.
As days pass,
There is only so much bliss that lasts.

Yet, we walk on
Finding ways for our dreams to prolong.
Will, the thing that keeps us going
Is only as strong as our purpose.

We walk on,
Unaware that life is an elaborate con.
Shadows haunting us, we drift;
Waiting and yearning for the significant lift.

Our dreams clouded with dreary echos;
We remain blind.
What threatens to vanish is our silent cry
Truly purposeless, our inspiration slowly runs dry.