Friday, 17 October 2014

Nostalgic fever



 No matter where we go there are places which are placed so well, in symmetry and in perfect harmony- right now am caught in this visual trap, seeing things and am like "I know i have not been here but I have felt this before, same tender in the breeze , same chill in the air pocket, somehow the overall position of the natural picture- trees, bushes and fall of the leave are all strategically positioned"

                Remembering my college, so insignificant I felt , caught up in the crowd and I was just a part of the unruly mob. Alone all to myself, trying to carve my own history in that heavily burdened place. Doubted to myself would that glorious day come to pass? As I could remember to myself I never framed that question, I was not that ambitious explicitly or I never made it seem very ambitious for I was not matured enough to be having an ambitious life, never had the words to articulate it. But unconsciously I was conscious that I had to make it big.

                   I had a glorious exit as I could remember, just like the old school days. A person from whom things were expected in life.

                     Right at this moment am sitting here in an open field at JNU campus, place where think tank work meticulously. A park all to myself, this time I am more than sure that I have to make it big but the transient period taking longer than expected. The same thought that swayed me years back now at the back of my head - And the perfect geometrically positioned nature augmenting it. 

Duress happy daughters day (poem)



Scream from the top of the voice,
Let no one hear it.
Cut this skin fathomless,
Let no one descry this noxious scars.

Become numb, callous and call it strength.
See what love has betide me to.
This is love I deserve,
A second hand  love,
Love I know so far.

I nurture this ardour;
My repast I feast on.
Love so pure, I don't know why it taste like venom.
Maybe the alchemist potion it wrong,
But this is love I know.

Nine month bio-quod,
Forever now in virtual prison.
Cage much better; if evident,
For people pity my plight.
Here I reckon alone!

Soul of mine shrieks,
So loud and so silent.
I say peek into it, hear it;
They turn a deaf ear.
A fault not of theirs but mine to take.

Evince a different side of love,
and I would be awed.
Is there love different than this?
Or is it a myth I mused?
Heaven please riposte me!