Discovering 'ME'

 


As I crawl inside me,
I hear all that was unheard,
i see all that was never seen,
Feel something that always went unnoticed;


Into the pool of thoughts,
then peeps in a dim light;
It's dim,yet extremely stable,
Poised you stand and glance at it,
within a spur it provokes you;


You follow it and it brightens with your  each step,
The journey is difficult and would try to hold you back like old distant memories,
But your guide's embrace is equally stronge,or rather stronger;


Moving ahead,facing all types of moments,you finally reach your apex;
From here,all seems clear,sorted and peaceful;
The only thing to do is to 'let go' evry other feeling;


LIfe is a similar story,
you befriend strange roads to reach the top of the cliff,
A point from where you just need to JUMP;


All the struggle for a single feeling of ecstacy,
which lasts nothing but seconds;
The STUN the replaces FEAR,
as you FLY in the air;

Something That hits u ...In between....

You  never realize wen your trough's through  contacts turn into your closely knits..at times strangers come close..n the bond that forms becomes inseparable...difficult to understand but realistic enough to cherish... they teach u..  mould u... bring u out from major 'diffidentialae' .... life goes on... n u learn to attract a few more strangers... if all were strange to us at sum time or the other...y r we so afraid now to make friends with new ones ? .. is it just that we don't want life to be an expressively and thoughtfully expanded foliage or it's just that we have lost the true essence of knowing people..... knowing OURSELVES

dreams unplugged...

You are walking down some stairs...It's the longest ever stairway u have ever seen in your life. It's also the highest one you have ever been to. But the stairs don't have an end and whenever you peep down the railing to get a look at how close u r to the earth, you end up knowing that there is absolutely nothing but a large number of stairs again. You continue walking but they finish only at the ringing of your alarm clock. You wake up to realize you were dreaming. Although you have seen these scenes recur in your mind for ages, you still get anxious every time you experience them....

 welcome to dreams....

wt are dreams? - 

"a succession of images, thoughts, or emotions passing through the mind during sleep.

"the sleeping state in which this occurs;

an object seen in a dream.;

an involuntary vision occurring to a person when awake;

a vision voluntarily indulged in while awake; daydream;  reverie; "
 that's how  a regular dictionary defines it

many of us have such wierd dreams...funny...at tyms intimidating...phobia -creating... .
They occur often .. is there reoccurence got some meanin associated to our lives? 
well if logically sought, dreams are thoughts that succeed in conquering our minds over the sleep....at tyms they  also help us sense what is unseen or invisible  to the eyes....

 The earliest recorded dreams were acquired from materials dating back approximately 5000 years, in Mesopotamia, where they were documented on clay tablets. In the Greek and Roman periods, the people believed that dreams were direct messages from the gods, or from the dead and that they predicted the future. Some cultures practised dream incubation with the intention of cultivating dreams that are prophetic.




Sigmund Freud explained dreams were manifestations of our deepest desires and anxieties. During sleep, dreams would manifest childhood repressed memories and obsessions.
 And then there are few people who even maintain 'dream dairies'....

I see different types of spaces in dreams...there are mostly corners in which i m stuck....n unable to get out...then there are also dreams of windows...the windows in my dreams keep dashing on the frames due to the wind...bt i cn neither stop the winds nor m i able to close the windows...they keep banging and their sounds becum rhythemic to my breaths...

I meet wierd people in ma dreams...faces which i have never seen before...  they speak a lot....and when i try speaking....i lose my voice...i cant  utter a word... nd if u  try enough,u actually utter it in life,(outta sleep or sleep talk).....
 And then...there is also this amazing thing called 'dejavu' ....u see things for the first tym in life n stil find them familiar....many-a-times  u have seen them in your dreams..which means u hav visited those places,met those people and indirectly expirienced it all in dreams , way before u actually did it in real life.

Cloudy Affair

He was quiet and lil anxious that day.
All his life, the only comfort & affection he had ,was for the clouds. I would see him gazing at them. All  dawns,mornings,noons,evenings and even at the nights. To him ...the white furry creatures meant the world...

Now,after having grown to the 88th year of his life... he prefers sitting back in his crackling chair...gazing at his most beloved (& only) belongings....CLOUDS
Clouds remind him of his mother.Their white fur is as soft as her touch.Their color resembles her moods.
Dark grey- when she used to be angry, blue-when she lovingly planted a kiss on his cheek n fed him milk and rice, clear white skies brought back the fragrance of the beautiful mogra flowers she wore in her hair, pink was always for the candy floss she bought for him  and bright yellows were as special as her favorite yellow cotton saree.
As a young kid he would talk to the skies.He would talk to them as he would with any other relative or friend around , or for that matter would be even more vocal about his feelings...for he knew,they belonged to his mom and that they would never hurt him,no matter what happened...He had mentioned everything to them.Right from his first crush in school,bad exams,ragging by seniors,the new hot English teacher in the high school and the way she said "quiet" with a little wink.He had narrated all the confusion he had had over choosing a course for the college, the chase for the perfect job, his girlfriends (out of which one turned into his wife),his kids,their kids..everything ,EXCEPT that thing..that one secret he swore not to share even with his shadow.
 That one thing which could grab away his ONLY belongings.That thing which he learned the night his mom breathed her last.That thing which was said by his father to him,before he left him at the gates of the boarding school.And it wasn't that easy for him to know that he was never a SON to his mother.That he was picked as was found unclaimed in the hospital where his mom nursed. He didn't want to believe this secret. And so he decided not to share it with his skies.

BUT that night he was  my grandpaa and also my best friend,with whom i shared every secret of mine & he did the same.He had to share it with me.The skies by then had began pouring like never before.It seemed like all his conversations with the clouds deciphered in the form of droplets and let his feelings go. They spoke what his eyes couldn't in all those years......For once he chose a new mate for his keepsakes......

Future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of there dreams....

We had a very unstable life, shifting from one town to the other as my mother as well as father were government service professional. At an early age of twelve, I left our beloved native Dombivali (a suburban area in Mumbai) and shifted to Nasik. Nasik was then surrounded by the most amazing and beautiful natural spaces. It meant a life away from the day-to-day slipping away fast life of Mumbai.No crowded places,no dirty local trains..just loads and loads of trees.
The place, the culture, the atmosphere-everything was new to me. But it didn’t take me more than a month to adjust myself to the locality in which we successfully secured a well-maintained resale flat along with a posh neighborhood. The block right next to ours’ was occupied by an ever-friendly family of four, the Kulkarnis. Mr. and Mrs. Kulkarni stayed there along with their elder son Ninad and the younger kid Ragini. Ninad dada was eight to nine years elder to me and Ragini was my classmate.
Ninad dada was left visually impaired in his early childhood due to an unusual cataract growth, followed by an unsuccessful surgery. As I started getting acquainted with them, I started sensing Ninad dada’s deep love for music. He was one of those children possessing  inborn talent, which came to him as God’s blessing.
He could readily play different TV commercial title tacks or movie songs on his little synthesizer without any hesitation of his visual incapability. I was always left astonished by the way he could relate the notes distinctly just by his powerful listening comprehension. Later an old lady in the neighborhood advised uncle and aunty to encourage his talent and train him technically. Accordingly, he started his musical journey under the guidance of a local music teacher.
Very soon, in a two years’ span, we returned back to Dombivali as my mother’s zonal transfer term had been completed. My memories of this family diluted as time proceeded and I lost the collection of moments which registered the time I spent with them.
Then, a few years later, all these memories unfolded from my treasured chest of events, as I saw Ninad dada being interviewed for a television talk show. I wondered how beautifully his talent had conquered his obstacles! He had faounded an institute called ‘KALA SANCHIT’ to train and groom physically handicapped aspiring artists.
Recently, I had a golden chance to visit my cousin in Nasik and I felt not to miss this opportunity to visit ‘KALA SANCHIT’. Numerous questions sprung up in my mind as I impatiently travelled towards my destination.
I received a warm welcome at ‘KALA SANCHIT’. The whole scenario of the premises reflected friendliness. The atmosphere silently spoke how dissolved these artists were in music. Students from all over the world had made their way to the workshops available here. Kids as young as five year olds were left open to explore the different facets of life and try to locate them in their music.
I had most inspiring experience here. I learned how one’s passion can lead him to his most fantasized destiny. I feel that the pain of dada’s difficult times transformed into a positive spirit which routed him to this socially offbeat, yet publicly transitioned and acknowledged path. He believed in the beauty of his music. He was convinced by the fact that his lack of vision was just a mere stone in the whole revolutionary process. Music isn’t just an art or a medium of entertainment for these students. It means life to them, a way in which they try to express themselves. At the end of the day, nothing really matters but everything deeply matters. The real zest in life is understood by respecting this mystery, which is beyond the horizons of cultural norms, needless of physical strength yet portraying the might of dreams and belief.....

AND ONCE AGAIN.....

(IIIT Pune- 2010 MAY )clicked by Bhagyashree P

It would be a dream come true,
If I could relive the odysseys spent with you;
In days of panic, I always had you beside,
With your arms around me,
Backing me and taking my side.

I remember the days, when we were together,
With our fingers locked in each others’, forever;
The spectacular moments, the longing meetings,
The restless night and eager mornings,
All so damn filled with your affection.

I will never miss you,
Because, to miss, you gotta forget;
Although you have lost yourself,
Your fragrance still remains quite intimate.

Popping pills and boozing liquids,
They say, blurs the pain,
But I am so addicted to you,
That a drug pays no gain.

You were my world, and it was the only thing I knew,
Though the discussions about ‘US’, were always very few.
I cried, I yelled n left no chance unturned,
And I pined for you,
Awaiting your return.

Now, I wish to get you back,
And tears pour down my cheeks,
It’s hard; it’s tough, difficult and very rough,
But your memories, as usual, bridge the distance.

SUNRISE SPECIAL......

♥ ♥ ♥ . . . . 
Winter mornings are always a windy affair and my super cozy blue jacket and scarf provide perfect combat for the chilly breeze. I had specially picked the blue shades as you adore blue.
And there was this extra warmth that they provided that day… perhaps… as I was set to live what I had longed for days… a return awaited.

I rang the door bell…it was still early dawn…n I felt a bit dizzy due to the prolonged flight. I heard the cling of wind chime hung above the door… and there you were…dressed in a crisp white shirt…paired with stonewashed blue denims.So untouched… so real…

Wearing your favorite fragrance and as it pulsed around…I completely gave in to tantalization. I could feel the rustic vibe in the apartment. It kind of brought me back to the old memories…brought me back to normal. Your gentle peck and the soft red couch added the required comfort….and as you settled for the newspaper to get a glimpse of the worldly updates, the verbal exchange got more casual…

You went into the kitchen to brew some coffee and meanwhile, I got myself engaged into a tour down the moments of celebrations.

The living wall was royally striking in electric blue, something where our thoughts finally met and we painted it together…right next was the bedroom door, turned into a collage of memories, full of our pictures …it appealed to ‘us’….so special and so close to our hearts. The bedroom wall bore the beautiful painting we had hand picked from the flea markets, bargaining down the 5k asset to just 3500 bucks…just to fit it in our budget…it rebounded back all the fantasies….we were crazy…I agree…

The coffee mug that I gifted you after our first date still served as the pen holder …the bedcovers still wore a blend of your after shave and my cologne…..

The wall clock belled 6 am and suddenly it struck me….how could I forget my heaven…I clumsily hurried to the balcony…I loved this place…the white swing, bright pink blooming roses…all with the rising sun in the background….it always seemed massively beautiful….as if it was designed intricately so only the two of us could live the fascination….or shall I say…It rose with so much grandeur so that it could witness our love and ink it immortal in riots of reds and yellow….without mention…always accompanied by the aromas of your filter coffee

As I turn back to return to the couch ….I see you standing near the swing….holding our piping hot coffee mugs, looking every bit of my adorable husband….that chocolaty smile overflew affection…melting into your arms was never less securing….

How could I let this dream get stirred for even a millisecond…I had to lie about my chemo. Hide it over a work trip, get well soon and join you again in this most mesmerizing journey. Keeping it perfect, not to miss it again and as you say “absence does make the heart grow fonder”….I learned to conquer all the pains over the serenity of being ‘US’.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥