“Random” was in abundance that day,
When I met a friend with my friend.
“Simple” boasted about being Outstanding,
And modest jollity refused to leave us.
“Plans” formed a disciplined queue,
Lashing a tight double knot around.
Varying spirits exposed themselves,
Bullying the vile side to surface.
“Proximity” took it as an excuse to breed,
Widening the horizon of the confines.
..............................................
Now, the tenable hold of her hand over mine,
Will slacken a pair of “double locked handcuffs.”
The fanaticism of her touch, hugs and kisses,
Will confound the devotion of advanced lovers.
The faithful “I love you” ogle from her eyes,
Will subtly unclothe the arduous conscience.
The gazing at her innocent “fast asleep face,”
Will put them thoughts to rest and send a sigh to the lips.
Written for and Dedicated to Roshni Khanchandani. :)
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Thursday, August 04, 2011
Golden Greed
The wait to our intimacy was perpetual. I saw you sitting there, waiting, with a skimpy touch of nervousness. You wanted to give in and yet be where you were. Well, the moment was here! I enticed you; so close that I could imagine your non-existent heartbeat.
Slower than a snail, I unveiled you, seeking for justice to be done to every inch of your beautiful golden skin. Then in your stark nakedness, I realized the best selfish thought – “you are all mine, right now!!”
Actuality or a manifestation of my depraved mind, I “felt” you again to trust. Part by part, I savored you, ensuring every bit got doused in my saliva. Your presence in me, created a whirlpool out of my earthly spirit, making me drift in to a fourth dimension of the surroundings.
When I provoked my eyes to open again, you had to be gone, and you were… Quite sinfully, the mouth widened in those familiar opposite directions. Then, I was hurled back in my body, only waiting for the next time you would be in my hands again.
Slower than a snail, I unveiled you, seeking for justice to be done to every inch of your beautiful golden skin. Then in your stark nakedness, I realized the best selfish thought – “you are all mine, right now!!”
Actuality or a manifestation of my depraved mind, I “felt” you again to trust. Part by part, I savored you, ensuring every bit got doused in my saliva. Your presence in me, created a whirlpool out of my earthly spirit, making me drift in to a fourth dimension of the surroundings.
When I provoked my eyes to open again, you had to be gone, and you were… Quite sinfully, the mouth widened in those familiar opposite directions. Then, I was hurled back in my body, only waiting for the next time you would be in my hands again.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Tom & Jerry
Trust me! It is quite a task to successfully waste 12 hours of every shift that I go for. However, drawing this was fun. More drawings should be done.
P.S. Tom & Jerry is the best!
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Half a Decade Ago
Half a decade ago,
A feeling like this was felt!
It yet again started as fun,
Alas! the sneak peaks rose.
Little bit of stalking,
Minimal words of talking,
and she's already a lover girl.
Half a decade ago,
A feeling like this was felt!
The nerves of the stomach wriggled,
Some pink always bursted in to cheeks.
Few random assumptions here,
Tiny pieces of hope there,
A big chunk sinking in 'worry,'
Counting all the freaks of past.
Half a decade ago,
A feeling like this was felt!
Emotions had overwhelmed her heart,
Life had complained about unnecessary wastage.
From then to now, she waits,
At the square one of those 'red tiles,'
Except eagerness made one leg rise,
And the wait on a single leg suffers.
Half a decade ago,
A feeling like this was felt!
That feeling, which was missed.
That feeling, which was dreaded.
And now, the palms are just open.
A feeling like this was felt!
It yet again started as fun,
Alas! the sneak peaks rose.
Little bit of stalking,
Minimal words of talking,
and she's already a lover girl.
Half a decade ago,
A feeling like this was felt!
The nerves of the stomach wriggled,
Some pink always bursted in to cheeks.
Few random assumptions here,
Tiny pieces of hope there,
A big chunk sinking in 'worry,'
Counting all the freaks of past.
Half a decade ago,
A feeling like this was felt!
Emotions had overwhelmed her heart,
Life had complained about unnecessary wastage.
From then to now, she waits,
At the square one of those 'red tiles,'
Except eagerness made one leg rise,
And the wait on a single leg suffers.
Half a decade ago,
A feeling like this was felt!
That feeling, which was missed.
That feeling, which was dreaded.
And now, the palms are just open.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
And She Turned For A Bit...
She sat there wanting to bite her nails. Alas! Once in a while they are grown and biting them would almost be like a sin. Also, she kept clicking the different tabs on her internet browser. So, that is the new way of seeking inspiration now.
Ting! And then the chat window notified a new message. Phew! Saved by the Ting!
Some random day, you just look back and yearn to be what you were. That version may not necessarily be the best version but you still want to be that or at least a certain part of it. I miss that ability to make a blog post out of any random or special event of my life. It's like you are craving to write but even something inspirational or blog worthy is unable to form words in your head. You know, the automatic flow of words that just spring up out of nowhere and then you improvise on those? Maybe that's how beggars feel (at least the genuine ones). They really want to eat but they can't for various and obvious reasons of course!
But then you are so desperate to write that you do and feel guilty about spamming your own blog and uselessly increasing the number of posts on it. There is anger and tears. There are nails digging in to your palm. There is this insane amount of emotions that you need to throw out (like puke). But every next sentence you form is like "doing ten suicides in a row, during a basketball workout (body not in form)." Then there is time constraint because you have a morning shift at work the next day.
Lastly, there is a lot of suffocation! It is not cool man! It is so not cool!
But you have to end the post because nonsense generally, has no end and there is only so much spamming that I would like to do to my blog.
Ting! And then the chat window notified a new message. Phew! Saved by the Ting!
Some random day, you just look back and yearn to be what you were. That version may not necessarily be the best version but you still want to be that or at least a certain part of it. I miss that ability to make a blog post out of any random or special event of my life. It's like you are craving to write but even something inspirational or blog worthy is unable to form words in your head. You know, the automatic flow of words that just spring up out of nowhere and then you improvise on those? Maybe that's how beggars feel (at least the genuine ones). They really want to eat but they can't for various and obvious reasons of course!
But then you are so desperate to write that you do and feel guilty about spamming your own blog and uselessly increasing the number of posts on it. There is anger and tears. There are nails digging in to your palm. There is this insane amount of emotions that you need to throw out (like puke). But every next sentence you form is like "doing ten suicides in a row, during a basketball workout (body not in form)." Then there is time constraint because you have a morning shift at work the next day.
Lastly, there is a lot of suffocation! It is not cool man! It is so not cool!
But you have to end the post because nonsense generally, has no end and there is only so much spamming that I would like to do to my blog.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
At Least She Still Attempts
I re-checked the dates and noticed that it has been more than a year since I posted something. I was definitely excited about posting the last one because I finally broke the elapsed time period of 'no-posts.'
Well, I am at a standstill. There are so many careers to choose from, so many companies to get employed at, so much money to make and yet I am a tiny little dot on a page full of doodle done by some mystery force!
It is high time (at least I think so) that I pick a career, work towards it, and be something more in it, in about 3 years down the line. However, I can't! Most days it feels like it will come to me and Thwack! I will know what I want to do for the rest of my life. Except, all those options just appear like a whirlpool. Also, taking the first step, having a platform to take the first step, feeling a 100% about being good at it, and being able to prove that to the rest, is mind you, a task! At least in this part of the world. Sometimes, I think what if it thwacks me when I am like some 36 years old and realize that all these years I was wasting my time!!?? Yeah yeah, don't give me the "you are never too old to start" jazz.
Yet again, sometimes, it feels like there is no such thing as "Thwack" in life. Maybe it's just about picking opportunities that come in your way and moving your way up. Cutting down the talks and analysis. But then what is the whole drama about Passion in life? Sigh!
So, how good is it being a Jack of all, again?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
She wishes to speak,
but the mind is being a freak.
One second it screams happy,
The next it whispers crappy.
How does she heal?
If she can't fathom the feel.
Digging is causing her pain,
Attempts to solve feel in vain.
So what does she do?
She waits with a long breath,
Letting those thoughts form queue.
She shuts the mental door,
It's OK. Life is sometimes a whore!
I randomly wrote that for a friend but now I think it kind of applies to me also, if of course, we change the context of the poem!
Well, I am at a standstill. There are so many careers to choose from, so many companies to get employed at, so much money to make and yet I am a tiny little dot on a page full of doodle done by some mystery force!
It is high time (at least I think so) that I pick a career, work towards it, and be something more in it, in about 3 years down the line. However, I can't! Most days it feels like it will come to me and Thwack! I will know what I want to do for the rest of my life. Except, all those options just appear like a whirlpool. Also, taking the first step, having a platform to take the first step, feeling a 100% about being good at it, and being able to prove that to the rest, is mind you, a task! At least in this part of the world. Sometimes, I think what if it thwacks me when I am like some 36 years old and realize that all these years I was wasting my time!!?? Yeah yeah, don't give me the "you are never too old to start" jazz.
Yet again, sometimes, it feels like there is no such thing as "Thwack" in life. Maybe it's just about picking opportunities that come in your way and moving your way up. Cutting down the talks and analysis. But then what is the whole drama about Passion in life? Sigh!
So, how good is it being a Jack of all, again?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
She wishes to speak,
but the mind is being a freak.
One second it screams happy,
The next it whispers crappy.
How does she heal?
If she can't fathom the feel.
Digging is causing her pain,
Attempts to solve feel in vain.
So what does she do?
She waits with a long breath,
Letting those thoughts form queue.
She shuts the mental door,
It's OK. Life is sometimes a whore!
I randomly wrote that for a friend but now I think it kind of applies to me also, if of course, we change the context of the poem!
Monday, February 28, 2011
Seeking Some Inspiration
I saw them in the distance,
flickering like uncountable number of candles.
Only they wouldnt go out.
They almost formed the horizon.
And as that pattern kept forming and coming closer,
they changed into their true form, them street lights.
flickering like uncountable number of candles.
Only they wouldnt go out.
They almost formed the horizon.
And as that pattern kept forming and coming closer,
they changed into their true form, them street lights.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
