WANDERINGS OF A NOMAD

A melancholy evening is where I stood. The day had passed somehow; at times painstakingly slow, at other times without even letting me know. But it had passed and now the evening stared at me. Why, why did the evening stare at me with this cold, hollow gaze? I know the night would come soon and I would get lost in it, engulfed in darkness, peaceful in sleep. But how do I reach the night without crossing the unending chasm of evening. The evening got more plangent as the drops of time dripped into the ocean of day. I wish I could handle it better; maybe I could sleep through it. But I knew sleeping would only push me into deeper throes of unexplained, unreasonable pain, a pain ironically created out of vacuum. Why was all this so difficult? Image from: LuvARiddle.wordpress.com As a kid, I would look forward to evenings, time to play, to see the sunset and also to see a flock of birds returning home to family and safety. This has always been my favorite feeling and makes...

A friend who is true is  possibly the best gift anyone can ask for and maybe I was looking for someone, sometime. This is one of my really old poems that I had the pleasure of finding written in margins of an even older book. While reading it now I wondered if I was still searching for that elusive best friend. And the one word answer is NO :) because I guess I made myself, my best friend. And I believe that liberates one from a plethora of pretenses, setting you free to enjoy your life the way you would want to. In darkness your face was a shadow I wandered everywhere to locate you I kept on looking, searching and roving Trying hard to find a friend who is true. Sometimes the darkness fooled my eyes Other times I was blinded by bright light I kept on looking, searching and roving Looking for you somewhere in my sight. Tears were streaming down my face And the dark clouds had already flown I kept on looking, searching and roving Wondering...

Time is a manifestation of chance. Well some would argue the other way, but everything around us the whole universe included, is just a manifestation of chance. And yet we continuously tend to ignore this Creator. Chance is nothing but randomness, yet we are so uncomfortable with this randomness. We crave for security, in every aspect of our life. But what if we changed our way of looking, just saying I want randomness, I want surprises. That is awesomeness, it is not the absence of insecurity or of fear or sadness but our ability to cope with and enjoy these emotions too; after all that’s what they are emotions. I know you are smirking…easier said than done   J   I couldn’t have agreed more. But these thoughts are maybe the first step (probably the easiest ones) towards any action. Passing by another day and another night The old eyes of time rarely lose sight Picking randomly much to chance’s delight Crowning some & leaving others to...

He would keep quiet and so would she....and then he would keep rehearsing the sentences in his mind time and again, framing them, correcting them, making them more and more casual. Unknown to him she would indulge in the same exercise...and yet none of them would gather the courage to speak out. They would rather live in claustrophobia, in denial, than take a chance. What was their fear, was it rational, nobody knew...and nobody would ever.  But why, why bank on words unspoken...to express yourself, why hope for words unspoken to create new beginnings? Why wait for the moment to pass away to tell someone, anyone what you really want to say. Why ?? Behind words unspoken she hides her tears, Behind words unspoken I cover my fears, A wall in between, as time stands silent and frozen, While we try to understand the words unspoken. Behind words unspoken I stifle my cry, Behind words unspoken she bids goodbye. Moving ap...

Sometimes I feel like a question mark, Often curved but always not, Wondering what do I really want? Chasing answers, moving from dark, Sometimes I feel like a question mark.

He was sputtering and stuttering, he knew he could not carry on like this. He had to get out, he had to quit. But quitting was a sign of giving up, of losing and he was no loser. “I am a champion and always will be”, he affirmed to himself. Even when nobody was listening he would keep repeating this to himself, trying to convince the cynic inside of him. His rational side questioned, champion at what cost? Well this is how it’s always been in life you keep moving on, tirelessly, moving ahead in face of obstacles, challenges, turmoil and pain, but you just don’t stop, you keep moving ahead. And he remembered how he had always been told as a child that life is a race and one has to win at this race or die trying. Suddenly the latter possibility seemed more real. He had been an achiever, in pursuit of excellence and success and that was a noble pursuit and an honest truth. But suddenly the truth seemed hazy, vapourizing in the heat of life. And what would become of him if he ...

Mind and it's Moods I closed my eyes wanting to hear the silence, Nobody spoke and yet I heard everything Everything I wanted to tell myself, Everything that got drowned in noise of my life I saw sounds of different colours and shapes Slowly all started to merge into a bright spot A shiny, bright spot in dark background Sometimes an astray dot would dart and join the spot And silence started creeping in slowly, softly Suddenly before I realized the silence became delicious And I was just happy to breathe and smile Opening my rejuvenated eyes to the world around Feeling light in knowing I was a part of this silence Where I could return anytime and everytime.