ETERNITY...CHAPTER 1

Often I have noticed people getting satisfied with the little success they get as touchwood. I’m not here to judge anybody for their strive for success or the number of failures they have come across during their reign of mortality.

Neither am I stating any point. This story or u might say it as a dissatisfied state of mind being expressed in words.

Why does every achievement fades so quickly when u are a grown up compared to that in child hood when even a small thing seemed so eye catching and all that mattered was to get that thing until someone else gets it.

But back then also days were tough, it always was. But still the dependency was always there. There was always someone when it came to guidance. My father took two steps forward to hold me when I was about to fall and my mother stayed behind me to ensure that I don’t fall back.

They made me walk when all I did was crawl and reach the top most steps and try to come back but were unable to do it as I got nervous with the height while descending.

GARDEN OF THOUGHTS...

In the midst of this fussy world;

The sound of that broken song seems so plangent;

The resemblance of beauty with imagination was always pleasant;

Yet the garden of mental imagery was incomplete.

I had that beautiful picture of nursery in my mind since childhood;

It still propagates somewhere;

Making the reflection of whiteness a bit dimmer than usual.

Fading away with the passage of time;

Accompanied with the events of joy and sorrow;

some have a blur impression;

But i have managed to amass  them;

And hopefully my garden of thoughts will always remain with me...

:(

Here is something which I could never be able to express …but as I feel heavy hearted and woebegone all I could do is convert it into words…as this is something which nobody could understand.

How much I want to open up my heart;

In front of someone I could trust;

A shoulder to lean is all I need;

While my heart is left to bleed;

All I want to do is scream, cry in front of someone;

Without thinking, that crying might be a sign of weakness.

Hurt and mockery cause me pain,
as it engulfs and swirls in my brain,
while I want to weep under the pouring rain,
and my mind would slowly goes insane...

I have suffered because I had no luck;

Or maybe I am not a hypocrite;

But I have lost the peace I have always cherished;

And now as I stand here all I feel is abandoning this feeling….

I WISH TO BE A CHILD AGAIN....

I don’t remember when;

Skipping every rock on the pond;

My childhood is forever gone;

I took it all for granted;

Standing near the hearth for warm;

Never realized how cold it was for the unfortunate ones.

I wish I could walk my way back to those innocent years;

Skipping the pain and miseries;

Where I always try to hold back my tears.

The guiltless face of childhood still appeals me from within;

As all of us have changed from then;

And there is no need for me to pretend.

Lately I have been missing all those days;

And I often feel the urge to cry;

Why couldn’t everything stay forever?

Why must we all have to say goodbye.

These years have passed in the blink of an eye;

The childhood friendship still lingers in my heart;

And those friendships we had have faded quickly.

I look back on those memories often;

As every person does;

And realize how much I wish to be a child again;

How much I wish to be a child again……

I DONT CARE....

What they see isn’t always true;
The portion untold is what lies inside the blue.
So many promises to accomplish before death;
Is what makes this heart aflutter.

The unfulfilled wishes still linger at some corner;
Making the darkness inside more drear;
The uncanny sense of direction that leads to this darkness so unavoidable;
Is what makes the mental arena ungratified and deplorable.

Never have I lost the sensation of that concern;
But the weights of the emotions push down the connecting thread;
And the insalubrious thought of this world is what frightens me;

The attitude of unconsideredness never falls behind;
Making the reality dimmer day by day;
Never will it affect me is what I always think;
But it does hurt and you cry within;
No matter how much you say ….”I don’t care…”;

STRANGE BUT TRUE....

It’s strange …that every hello is accompanied by a goodbye;
It’s strange….how much you say “I don’t care”…it concerns you the most;
It’s strange…People saying I want to forget my past…never do they think how much they will loose…;
It’s strange…how can one word contain so much regret?
It’s strange…when you want someone they are never around;
It’s strange…we can forgive someone but never forget;
It’s strange…how the past memories of someone could bring tears in your eyes;
It’s strange…how sometimes wrong decisions can cost you the most;

But to me all these things don’t seem strange….

POVERTY..

In the shifting shadow of the lantern light;
The area of vision becomes humbler;
Her contours become yet more pronounced;
Against the pitch blackness of the impatient man…

Sitting on the verandah of the hut;
She looks impatiently at the cattle;
Struggling with the suffocating stench that comes of the empty sacks stained with kerosene;

Smell of hootch,of sweat,of flesh;
The man’s Scottish, drunken smile and look of vague desire;
Her dry hung elongated breasts;
Made the gaping cleavages of the paddy fields throw a sarcastic smile;

The haggard looking birds swooping down in the haphazard fields;
Gazing at the small hut and the dim lantern;
Where her naked children fight over a loaf;
Snatched from a dog..


Some erotic twists and turns;
Arms clasping and unclasping;
Like a woman expressing her emotions during the love making with her husband;
She clambers up like a crab;
As the hairy-chested man locomotes for a decisive thrust;

Breathing like an exhausted;
She looks at her children with a gleam of compromised content;
But the sorrow of poverty clearly visible;
As she looks at the two rupees;
Added to the thirty rupees she earned;
By selling her daughter…..