4100 : War

Everyone wants a war. Always.

War feels like evolution. The sense of making progress.

And sometimes some of us win. While we are dying all the time.

4099 : Oh Fish

4 years, 3 months, 26 days....thats the lifespan of a goldfish.

I believe these loving creatures take the first hit. 

4098 : Late

Sometimes its too late to call you. You would expect your figments to soar in that moment. 
And yet, that is the moment imagination dies another death.

4097 : She

She had large eyes. An infectious voice. A joie de vivre. She spoke of poetry. She buzzed like a bee. Finally she flew away like the wind.

4096 : Crash into me

It's 445am on a Sunday morning. I am at the most peace this life offers me. Writing, reading and sipping coffee.

The silence of the morning calms me down. I love the space, the shadows and the seamless shine. There is nothing to do, nowhere to go. 

My brain is humming - "you got your ball, you got your chains, tied to me tight, tie me up again...who's got the claws into you my friend, into your heart I will beat again.", incessantly. The poet in me is in a candy store.

Flicking through some unbelievable photographs from yesterday, it occurs to me that still life is the most incorrigible liar. Yet, it elevates. It lies, because it never ever tells the entire story. And it uplifts because, in that stolen moment, we still found our happiness. Sometimes with a friend, other times a looming piece of this lovely planet of ours, with a song that drums along like a dream.

As I flick through, I am reminded of how fleeting happiness is. If we cannot appropriate it, it is gone. Like a firefly - here now, gone in a few seconds. (You float like a feather, in a beautiful world!!). 

God says, "Ephemeral. I created the word to describe the human condition around joy."

Conversely yet, we all want to repair our futures. My limited pragmatism teaches me - that there is no tomorrow. Never was, and never will be. Tomorrow is a construct to offer a false hope.  An elaborate fiction, that breaks down, the nth time you read it. 

The contradiction called me.....here I come. Murakami's recent book - on the vocation of being a writer, haunts my thoughts. I love the book so much. It takes me on flights of imagination, which are not from the now. How do you imagine if there is no future? Reminds me of that brilliant line "Its like rain on your wedding day....its a free ride when you have already paid.".

Speaking of free rides - you caught the train, left me all alone. Make my Sunday better. Come along - Crash into me.

4095 : Optimism

Today I feel battle weary. Like a lonely voice who speaks in a pip sqeauk. The sound of this is not in the audible range.

I do want to give up. Not on life. On the fringes of going nowhere. 

Darkness if not an absence of light. Darkness is the inability to realize the light.

4094 : Yesterday

 Kal se, soye voye bhi toh kum hain hum......

4093 : Eclipse

The most disappointing thing in the world is to know that you are shrinking in shape and size for the people who matter to you.

Thats how the eclipse starts. 

4092 : Ghost

Do ghosts exist?

I dont know for sure. I do definitely know, that people can exist and be real in your world long after they are not around. 

Ghosts are what is left behind, when everything else has moved on.

Do I know of ghosts?

A few. I see them often.  I grab a peated drink with them. Makes me sober. 

4091 : The space between

The distance between being happy and being drowned is only an inch. And yet......I have always maintained that the space between happiness and unhappiness is infinite. 

4090 : Living

I can be poetic, and I know that. Even when I dont need to be.

Like today I was pondering - what is it to be alive? Blood coursing through my veins. A head that throbs and wanes. Breath that escapes my nostrils. A song that is trapped under my tongue. 

And......a heart that beats for you :-)

4089 : A box

Sometimes I want to lure you in. Like a hunter spreads a bait. Tempt you into my spirit.

Trapped. If I were to capture and lock you into a box. What would you call this wet leaky red box of mine?

Heart :-)

4088 : Crash into me by DMB

I love the song and the lyrics of Crash into me by Dave Matthews Band. I first heard it in 2010, or even earlier. Unsure.....but around that. Over the last 12 years I have fallen in love with everything DMB.

I love this song so much, that I would probably sing this to someone I was trying to woo :-)

One of my fav lines (ahem!!) is this line which goes

"Hike up your skirt a little more, and show your world to me!!"

I find its an inspired piece of poetry, and the way Dave sings it, there is nothing at all raunchy or weird about it. He makes it sound deeply romantic.

Funnily, I was telling this to a friend, and she told me "Never knew you were into these cheap porny songs.". I still smile when I think of that conversation. Its hard to tell someone about the beauty of poetry.

Poetry is all about inside jokes which are shared in an obscure way. 

Enough said, go listen to Crash into me.......ideally one of their live versions.

4087 : Thagyan

Listening to Thagyan from Coke Studio by Zain Zoheb and Quaratulain Balouch.....

I have been listening to this song for over 6 months, but its only in the last 2 weeks that I paid attention to the lyrics. My punjabi is like my Tamil, can understand almost, but cannot speak or sing.

The signing on this song is ethereal, and the lyrics and so apt. Poetry is so magical.

Especially when Quaratulain starts singing (a magical transition moment at around 2:42. She is so lovely with both her voice and the lines she has.

Phew!! Goes straight into my dying play list. A playlist that I want to listen to as I die.

https://open.spotify.com/track/6KdTA6s7zmqLyB5ZNvVta0 

4086 : You

I tried drawing you yesterday with the peated brown. At (on) the bar table. Peat on brown mahogany is not a great contrast. The light conditions did not help either.

I still continued drawing. At one point the bartender came along and said with tender compassion, "You are an artist ha?"

I shook my head and guffawed, "No....hell no. I am just missing someone."

"Thats what everyone here says.", he said. "If you are truly missing, then why are you here - get out to what you are missing."

How do I tell him - What I am missing is dead and gone. Long ago. Remember, right, I killed you ?.

4085 : Distance

When you take silence (or be silent), you put some distance between the world and you. You can pause and take two steps back. Meditate in the true sense (like J Krishnamurti would ask us to, or the Greeks would!!).

I have been silent for the past few days. Have taken the steps back. I see the world a little more clearly. Not because of improved vision, just that I am spending more time looking at it.

The world is the same. Nothing has changed, nothing will change.

Reminded of the children's rhyme I learnt from one of Vikram Seth's book.

Raam Raam Shah
Alu ka rasa,
Mendaki ki chutney
Aa gaya mazaa.....

I have also been using the silence as a mechanism to connect to myself. In some sense, its my version of slowing down. 

Slowing down is distance. In distance lies perspective. Perspective allows you to frame. Framing allows you to shoot. A good shot is poetry. Poetry is life.

4084 : When you sit in silence

You feel a buzz in your head. Thats the sound of my own discomfort.

Truly. I am not being poetic.

4083 : Pause

My brain is on a pause today. Too much conversation. Too much anxiety of wanting to control an outcome.

This inspite of being zen and buddhist.

Today, I know I am neither zen nor buddhist.

Silence is what will heal. 

But when and where?

4082 : What is it?

They both stood near the parapet, staring into the mountains, and she said "Tell me what you feel."

He said, "Nothing".

Today, years later, he stands alone staring into the same mountain. He still feels "nothing" and says "nothing". 

Who will count the bodies?

4081 : The burden

The wall cried out, "You are bloody heavy", to the piece of carved wooden plaque. "I might be able to bear you for some time, but no gaurantees.".

After a thought, the wall added, "You are so bloody full of yourself. And this stupid world, admires you. No one spares a thought for me, for the one who bears the burden. You are my cross to bear. I wonder, why though? You might as well fall and shatter. Who gives a flying fuck? I certainly dont. Its just that you lean on me via a nail. And the bloody nail, hurts, while you in your vain glory woo the world."

"Damn you, art, one day - mark my words, I shall give up. And that day, you shall be kaput."

4080 : Love and Death

Love and death have been two topics I have contemplated a lot in the past year. On both I have been honestly re-examining my inner workings all through this year.

Writing, rewriting, laboring, meditating. Endless cups of coffee.

And then today, the best friend of "someone to me" was diagnosed with a terminal stage 4. She wants to dance with him in the last months, and yet might not be able to. My heart bleeds for her. As if it were my own heart.

On days like today, I do wonder, what the hell are we fighting for? If not - for love. For time. For joy.

Regret minimalization framework, anyone?

I am war. I am inflammable. I have never been so conflicted in my life. 

4079 : The dance of the mountain

I saw him dancing. Intoxicated by his own music. In a sort of trance. 
Just watching him, was kind of a trance too. 
His eyes, sometimes open, sometimes closed. Swaying rhythmically.
Serenading himself. Romancing no one, yet, maybe, all of us.
There was a lesson "here". I was sure.
I didnt know the language of mountains though. And still dont.
(Hence) that lesson was (is) forever lost on me.

4078 : Hot and Cold

There is only one monster in my life, my daughter. So she is telling me, that "you are the only one who probably understands me well in this world...."

And I am smiling. Just months ago, she created an elaborate poster, that says "World's worst dad". And when I asked her about that....she says "You are still the worst dad, but you a good friend."

Its fun, when you deal with a more crazier version of yourself every single day. Shows you why others struggle with you, possibly.

4077 : Black & Brown

Its morning and I am sipping a black cup of bitter coffee. 
I am pondering on the debates of yesterday. The version of me versus the version of our world.
All I really need is coffee, books, and spotify and I can survive this world.
And I tell myself, why dont I choose more of these?

I feel my insides shutting down, rebooting to choose a happier and more more silent tomorrow.

4076 : No rhymes

At the upmarket cafe, you sat across me. Resplendent you, the fluorescent red of your lips and glowing like a pig (I am good with compliments na !!). How we laughed, like two dorks who had just sold the world. 

It was eons ago - my memories are blurred and yet I clearly recall being exceedingly happy.

All it took was 6 cups of tea, and us being our twerky selves. The sublime joy of being with someone who you unflinchingly adore without a good reason.

4075 : Grief

A friend of mine was telling me that I should not brood on the past.

How do I tell her - that my sorrow is not being to hold your palms? That simple na.

4074 : Down but still flying

Where I live today.
I often see two twin boys aged around 12.
With their mother and caretaker.

They are both part of Down's.
And yet, they walk and soar.
Their mother holds her chin up and rallies them.

Yesterday, I saw one of them playfully try and hug a similar aged girl.
The girl escaped. 
She was drowned in indignation.

I caught myself stealing glances at the mother.
In that moment, I thought I saw a crack.
Through that - what was, what is, what could be, and what will be.

The world is never what it seems.
The knife is sharp, but never enough.
The beauty is raw, but never in grasp.

Some of us will never see the silent beauty in the world around us.
Some of us feel down, when we are at our best.
Some of us feel the best, when we are Down's.

4073 : Mood

Listening to Myra Melford on repeat for the past week, has made me face my inner music. And convinced me that if I had another daughter she would most definitely be Myra, as a tribute to this love of mine.

Totally addicted to this sound. Perfect for the chaos in my brain.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myra_Melford 

Image from her own website

4072 : Play and burn

Demons usually come out when I am alone. For a long time, they bothered me, as if, I was dealing with aliens. At some point, you get used to the crazies. You have now come to believe that they are going nowhere, unless they want to. Which might as well be never.

In recent times, I no longer resist them. Now I try and embrace them, the children of a random cross. I let them be. They of course, let me be. Harmony.

Sometimes we play too. Today we formed a circle and were singing, "Ringa Ringa Rosies". 

4071 : Turn over

She said, turn over a new leaf.

Crazy poet that I am, I did turn the leaf over. 

Whats underneath was a bed of worms.

4070 : Eternity vs Now

This came in via twitter.  https://twitter.com/spinningawheel/status/1590745929426300929

I must be the rare idiot who always chooses the "Now". Always. Brilliant art work and writing below.

4069 : Poem

I tried to capture you into a song. I called it my best lyric.
The finest metaphors, the perfect meter, the zing in the lines.

I looked up that page today again. Powdering away. 
Today, it feels like another sad love song. One that escaped the confines of this intimate page.

4068 : Coffee and jazz

The brilliant piano plays in the background. 
The coffee simmers.
The aroma saunters.
My mind is present, intently on the coffee, and the crazy jazz.

You had once asked me, "what does being lonely feel like?". Today I think I have some answers.

4067 : Mean

"This time the hurt feels like a return to mean.", or thats what he thought. If you miss a note by an octave, are you still wrong?

4066 : B&W

I was recently asked (like I often get asked) - why do I prefer B&W photos?

And my answer is

"Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the gray."

4065 : Split

You told me very early, that you would need to split every single sum we spend. Including the taxi fare. I never got used to that idea. It was an anathema to me.

I remember that day, many moons ago - you sent me money for a meal that I had paid for. I wanted to tell you then - that you had paid me less. Since it did not account for the time value of money or the extra beer you had guzzled.

Or the time, you sent me monies for the saree I had paid for. Even then you had paid less, you had not factored that the designer was my friend and she had put in a special touch. How do you price that in?

I dread the day, when one day, you send me an invoice. For the things that you gave me. Funnily enough, I am sure you would clock a number lower than fair too. Why? As in, why do I think you would put a price lower than correct?

Almost everything you gave, even today, is absolutely priceless.

4064 : Love is

Sitting with someone, telling you about a dish they cooked, listening as if, this was the greatest fable ever written. Smiling, humming, leaning. 

And the crazy bit is, they would do the same for you.

Might look like pretend play. And yet, its all there is to our day.

4063 : What the hell are we fighting for ?

In the middle of a fight or a debate, if the civilities are lost - thats an indicator that the ground might be opening up. In the sense that the sinkhole is about to gobble you in.

Picture this. Someone you love deeply (or respect deeply at work), and you are in the middle of a heated conversation. You cough and struggle in the chat, but the person does not see it. He/she does not notice, and hence they dont offer you water or respite. 

And yet, till today morning, she noticed that you had a tiny scratch on your arms. So you know she can notice. We might always rationalise this saying this she really missed this.

Or picture this. In this same chat, the chat ends, and instead of the regular hug as you part ways, each of you just picks up the bag and walks away.

Somehow - this bothers me immensely. My sense is, if we did love each other (or care, or respect), then a debate in the present cannot destroy the years of goodness we have built into us. And yet, so often it does. Civility gets lost. Empathy is drowned. Compassion is a just another word.

If this happens one off, I can rationalise. When it happens often, you know the boat has sailed off the harbor. What remains is you holding the harbor anchor and assuming it is the boat.

It also kind of reminds me that some battles are only worth fighting for, if "we" still exist. If "we" are gone....then we are the Gods of War. "We" have become the battleground.

In this battle, I happily surrender. Looks like, I already lost eons ago.

4062 : Sometimes

We often exercise extreme caution when we should ideally be chasing joy. And every single time, we do that, we possibly kill another part of us and our lives.

Not chasing joy can be the difference between living and not living.

Yesterday a friend of mine said....."Sometimes I wish we had...."

Sometimes. Or. Always.

4061 : Cheat

I was talking to a friend of mine yesterday, and it occurred to me - that she might feel cheated.

No, not in the romantic sense at all. Let me explain.

I define intimacy in many ways. So in my head mental intimacy is how for example any two people relate. So, if I am close to my mother - and I let her into my inner world - then I am mentally intimate with her.

With that definition out of the way, what if, you, let someone into your inner world - only to realize that he/she is a disaster.

I distinctly detected that my friend feels cheated, exactly in that sense....sadly, and I am the cheat.

I do tell myself - its not a burden for me to carry. Then again, thats what they told Jesus. Sometimes the cross is so firmly attached to you, you have to carry it.

4060 : The foolishness of foresight

Another brilliant piece via twitter. I had read this before, but good to be reminded of this again.

4059 : A sky full of people

Came in via twitter

"Is it permissible to invent new verbs? I want to give you one: I sky you, so that my wings can stretch boundlessly, to love you without boundaries." ~ Frida Kahlo