when 'Dear Diary' grows up ...

Bring your true mindful word to me
I will listen like a patient friend,
Get all the ink you have.. but forgive
the absence of the mirroring trend...
enriching stories,yes,wonderful so far
someone surely should pen them down
but It's way past the printing hour..
Oh! My friend I fret,you must understand
I cannot be written on this time because
I am not an active diary anymore in hand...
Searching a blank page won't serve you well
Yes, In the wee hours, if you like to read
I do hold good thoughts, and memories to tell..
Do you realize, I am safely bound by leather
helping brittle pages survive changing weather...
Cannot be vain, as I am a small bit of the whole,
yet,afraid I'm replete with elements of a brimming soul
One day you created me in naivety to the core
Today wiser lay I, protecting secrets safely stored..
But you must realize little more than the biting truth
I might be the planted seed,also the tree bearing fruit
Living in library I sit quiet on the wooden rack
spared of the tireless pen that inked me front to back..
My friend, there's more to write of the new world
slowly and urgently fresh pages need to be sought,
Flip through, in me might lay a key to the next thought
sure can borrow me for a day, spend time if you must
as I insist you realize now, that I am not
just a diary any longer, Not the present
but like history, a completion of time to trust.

Spiritual High!

There are times when we feel uncomfortably peaceful, soft.. calm and ever so content...almost in an unreal way.. One may call it a "spiritual high!" .. Magical!
These times come like the air we feel during shift in seasons, pleasantly warm after a freezing winter.. pleasantly cool after a scorching summer.. whenever it may be.. these times surely make you feel new
I am going through such times right now and I wonder what brought me here ... Life, destiny, time? or just me?
What I sense here is an immense sense of belief and vastness.. like a small boat sailing with the breeze devoid of worries.. yes it knows it can sink but then such are the times that it couldn't care less... Feels like I'm back in my childhood.. yes those were beautiful times too...
I know in the past few years I have come through turbulent times, felt loss.. pain.. agony.. spent sleepless nights and often asked the universe "why am I going through this?..why me?" Those were the times when I lost friendships, love and in some ways my belief in self ...I fought with loved ones, misunderstood criticism, lashed out at anyone showing me the mirror, cried my heart out yet did not know why...Those were the times when I knew who I was but yet did not have faith in who I was or could be..
I was impulsive, rash, confused and did not see anything with clarity.. nothing.. but yes , if there was one thing I have always kept that would be a clear conscience.. I have been an open book and always will be..
Those were the times when I found real people .. who cared ... I came to know why family is the prime source of our happiness.. why they say that true friends are rare and precious.. how by Loving yourself you can truly and unconditionally love others .. and how Change is really the only Constant in life...
Yes those were difficult times for me .. but maybe without going through that, I could have never evolved..and grown... Now when I look back.. I only just smile ! :)
Surely tough times are going to come again.. but then I hope to be stronger and that too shall pass..
Also,regardless of what times these are.. good or bad.. happiness and satisfaction are in our own heart and mind , no one can give you what already lies within.. Like A gardener can only water the plants but the flowers have to bloom themselves..
A loved one can only be with us their way, opportunities and success would come in their own time, Life would treat you uniquely everyday... but, whether that is enough is yours to feel...
Breath in!
So Today, here I am...feeling light..free.. dreamy and full of possibilities :))

Till then..

Till The rain touches the ground ..
Till lightning waits for its sound..
Till the ripples make their way ..
Till Night prepares for day..
Till we reach where we belong..
Till we write the pending song..
Till I watch them break into a smile
Till I walk to them the first mile
Till eyes slip to reveal the unknown
Till I rush to pick the telephone
Till the child waits for a ride
Till it is time to kiss the bride
Till every feeling circulates within
Till I find out how they have been
Till my letter is opened and read
Till They read what I leave unsaid

:)

Shraddha

Now we reach the time .. time to leave
I found you then.. I'll Find you again
You're a page where a story began
You're my friend .. I'm yours as much as I can
I could hold on and I will.. will you not?
coz we laughed and cared every time we fought
two years alive.. memories fill me up
Could last a lifetime.. hold the brimming cup
Our minds don't meet at times..
we don't laugh at funny rhymes...
We could bitch all through the night
We could just smile at our very first sight
I could make you cry and shed tears myself
I could be a wicked bitch.. you could be a silly elf
All this while we have not been too perfect
But perfection is not what we look for
I know you better than you think I assure
We could really push and stay away..
But I would rather pull and just stay..
Shraddha this could be our silly song
I may not be right.. you may not be wrong
before a new beginning.. before we bid adieu
This would be my way of saying " I do love you"

Desert wife

Rising daylight as the world takes a turn
I sat on the sand like the desert wife
The winds kept chiming and camels run
No voice no man into endless horizon..
My sinking feet fight to hold surface
watching sand grains create tricky mazes..
So dry so sharp a sweet deserted trill
Humming dunes an overwhelming chill
No rain to soften no drops to drink
an oasis some water just a mirage I think
watching nature carve a parched beauty
a cactus stands with its thorny smile
With the rising cold with the falling heat
As I felt the change heard the heartbeat
I felt the magnificence of being alive
when I sat on the sand like the desert wife

It's another cold and lazy afternoon...the old lady knits a sweater with love while her wrinkling skin basks in the sun. She knits with a blank mind.. a mind too tired of thinking or maybe a mind too experienced to be distracted anymore. As the wool and the needles dance she smiles a toothless smile so calm....calmness that comes only after years and years of knitting and knowing.

The old lady has sons who love her enough and daughters she brought home for her sons. She has grandchildren to pamper and more grandchildren who wait for her bedtime stories every night. Her husband had been the love of her life and she always had a beautiful time. She had been the queen of her kingdom and the ruler of every heart. She was young and gorgeous , now she's old and weathering, yet her eyes gleam like a wonder....

As she knits now unsure whether the sweater would reach its completion first or she would... she sighs now and then as a lifetime of memories try to lure her attention and make her reflect. But all these years have made the old lady very old and very strong.. she has lived a full journey and lived it well and nothing can make her look back... all she can feel is the warm sun and the wool she shapes to warm... and the peace within her... after years of struggle, of pain, of laughter, of surprise, of love, of growing....the old lady knits all of that into a woolen story.

I lie

Here it is .. right here and so real.. unabashedly real.. Is it tremendously right or is it disastrously wrong to be so real?
I am a human being and only very human .. only very human when I think.. feel.. speak or remain silent. I am aware of every thread that covers me .. of every breath taken around me.. of every sound played near me... I am as psychic as I can be yet only so human not to realize it .
Is it insane to acknowledge the truth and really remain calm or is it just pretension : both the calmness and the truth.
is it wreck-less to jump into an abyss imagining you'll find a parachute on your fall down or is it only human faith.. faith in growing wings if not a parachute..
Does it not hammer your brain out when all you have got is this.. right here..this and nothing more .. nothing.. yet those longing human sighs!
Lies..innumerable lies . they push you to believe they don't need to exist.. they ask you to move away and find a true lie.. you cannot extend your arm and reach out to emptiness..yet those arms remain outstretched.. why? endless Hope??
I can refuse and I can loathe..with the power to pick a rotten apple and throw..But I don't , allowing it to rot me along..then shamelessly complain how I try to glitter and fail to shine..how desperate.. my need to fit into humankind..
I know right.. I know wrong.. I know who I am .. yet I avoid really becoming a whole.. yet ironically pray to enlighten my untouched unknown soul...
I am living I am dying I am laughing I am crying.. I am everything a human can choose not to be.. yet only so human not wanting to set free..

Fortune teller

Cry aloud amorous woman
a deafening chime unceasingly
I do not hear thee ardent woman
feel deep into the dark fearlessly
weep for those who tread past thee
till thy laughter reflects amorously

amorous woman sing aloud
now to this world and beyond
sing every act of blasphemy
sing till the dagger of justice
rips apart words of sedition
sing until ye bleed true rendition

Amorous woman bewitchingly
crawl cold onto a naked desire
bear the sin of a vengeful vine
arouse consummation then abstain
bringing upon such writhing pain
reveal vindication as a loving liar
lest death be granted so amorously.

do you see?..

As we fail to believe in what is
and fall for what we believe to be
time has woven stories where
the sighted refuses to see..
the shadow of a burning flame
like passion behind a desire
in a moment flickering
in a moment rising higher..
the wax never saw the truth
the fire had refused to share..
a word on the lips remain words
until mistaken to be thoughts
those words were just words
the truth remains to be sought..
As eyes meet and look away
silently those eyelids fall
refuse to see the stinging stare
time weaves another tale where
the liar bares it all...

Can I harden so much
as to fail to feel a touch
Can I forget the ground
till I let go of my roots
will it be against the self
If I harden so much..

Can I give a cold stare
can I give rise to a scare
crushing the fallen fort
like an injured warrior
will it be too bad a sign
if I harden so much..