~ Caught Up ~

Crept up in Thoughtfulness.
Lost in the Charms of the tablet thingy.
Caught in the winter rains,
My quest for Vanity.
Receding fast. 
Nowhere to go.
but to the things of the past.
I sit in the drivers seat.
Lost.

Sane thoughts wouldn't leave me.
No time to look down across the looking glass.
To the hues of the setting sun.
To the hazy view of the mountains,
through the droplets of dew on the looking glass.
To the world outside.
Playful Frost.

The dew swept away.
By the windshield.
Only to return with
Playful intensity.
I stare afar.
Hoping for the distant shadow to yield.
Its anonymity.

Lost in the Ruins of the tablet thingy.
I push back the seat a little.
May be it isn't so bad,
To be
Caught in the winter rains.
With.
Nowhere to go.
but to the things of the past.

~ Changes ~

I've changed a lot, since i last wrote. No, Not the things that you would think. Still, Writing on laptops, more preferred, than those obsolete sheets of paper. I haven't actually seen any, except for the Printer Trays lying around in the office. I probably wouldn't remember what my handwriting would look like even if i tried to. The long hours on the internet, still a religious part of my day planner.

I've started to take an interest in politics, believe it or not, and words like GDP, Exchange rates, don't perturb me anymore, and looking for articles explaining what they are, is a thing of the past. Back-pain isn't a myth these days. A casual look at the diet contents of the Junk Food lump in my plate, a common occurrence.

Listening to music, seems permissible only while on the shuttle to work. Hobbies, to write for a casual curriculum vitae, seems to come from careful surfing of dozens of websites, rather than from personal experiences. Birthday wishes would come in plenty, as messages and emails. Phone calls however, would 
seem to come from strangers, with a business agenda on their minds.
 
The urge to Walk a little, obstructed by the fleet of stairs i took on the way to the office cafeteria. The careful observations made on the roads on the walk home, engaged by thoughts of the future.

I've changed a lot, since i last wrote. I hope... for the best.

*- Resolution -*

Songs of Apathy.
Crystalline judgements No more.
Resolute i not, like before.
Something gives, some don’t.
Crashed and burned, more often.
But.
Resolute i won’t.

Grab by the neck,
The Path to the unknown.
Chasing Implausible causes,
Retire.
Blossomed rare, like tulips, hopes.
Uprooted often, akin Forest fire.

Travel, I will, towards it.
Happiness sometimes,
Some gay, some forlorn.
Pages tucked under the pillow, some.
Some mercilessly lay torn.

Alone never, Lonesome rare.
Floating.
In Troubled waters of despair.
Walk down south, to the shimmering horizon.
But.
Resolute I won’t - Like before.

Of what Ifs and What Nots

Way past the days of non-judgmental decision making, i am content for at least a minute of the day, everyday. Why not? I've seen people with worse problems. So, here this one is a happy post.

The late night motorcycle ride i went for stark in the middle of the night, was fun. The lingering thought in my head when i reached my humble abode, was "I should do this more often." I miss the days when there was no sense of curfew just as the dusty clock struck 10. People safe and content, could go out to take a stroll. Just to sip a cup of roadside tea, even.

Devoid of the lurking dangers, the streets were the not alarmingly naked and deserted. Shops would stay optimistic till the wee hours. The sudden urge to have a smoke at the most absurd hours would make a bunch of us get on with our Ninja gears, and head on to the unending never-ness.

And Now, here we are.. Never studied or had the urge to study robotics, yet i know they must feel - the Robots. Adventure sports were never my thing, yet i might just give it a go, just to unmask my hidden talents, if any.

Another deserted night falls, and i search for my Ninja gear. Again!

~ NumbnesS ~

And when i thought, it was coming back to me, it went away.
The hair of my beloved Slipping commotion-less,
Through my shaking fingers, as she left me.
Blinded by the mockery, I motionless lay.

The brightness, withered slowly.
Countless bleeding drops of heartbreak, falling back in my cortex.
Slipping through the moments past, the heart sunk in the growing Numbness.
My shaking fingers, shivered.

Pacing raindrops, ascend.
Ageing senses,
The fire,
Burn alike.

Soulless freaks within,
Scream aloud.
Aimless,
I roam about.

~ Run Away ~

The Rain, Unending.
Merciless showers.
Romance, sucked out of its Serenity.

Showers, Merciless,
Ruefully Abused.
The droplets on the window pane, Unused.
Washed away.
Silent Commotion.
Momentary lapse of Motion.
Another Affectionate swipe,
Darkness,
The end, Still Far Away.

And the loneliness of my deserted furniture,
Averted my attention.
It isn't the Rain.
Evading Romance like Everyday,
I stared through the tinted glasses, Again.
Awaiting the chance,
To Run Away.

~ Life is Beautiful ~

Life, the journey that it is, leaves us with experiences of varied kinds. Some forgotten, some etched deep within our memories. And these memories forgotten, remembered, envisions the beauty of our existence.

The curiosity-clad Innocence of childhood, that made us look at everything with the sole intention of understanding its existence.
The enthusiastic Adolescence, the hunger for experiences, and the enthusiasm of trying out things of all kinds.
The responsibility-clad Adulthood, the quest for stability, the need to sustain, and a family to look after.
The wrinkle-clad Old age, where everything seemed so near, yet distant.

And Within each phase of our existence, the perception of the existence of everything else changed by frightening tangents. The changes impeccably sudden, the longing amazingly contrasting. And with the change in perception, our perception of Beauty changed too.

Withing the realms of imagination, the colorful rainbow went from beautiful to inspiring, and from inspiring to soothing. And as the days grew grim, it turned beautiful again.

The aging heroine of yesteryear's, forgotten only in appearance, still vividly alive in the hearts of her fans, still overflowed with beauty and substance like a cornucopia of allure and elegance. Her beauty cherished and relived through her rarely available movie recordings. Like the aging bottle of scotch, her aroma traveled far and wide. The forgiving eyes of a child that saw past the repulsion and dejection, and offered its arms with trust, beautiful, yet the beauty of it - never heard of.

As we travel through the corridors of life, slightly impervious to its selfless offering of bundled joy, the essence of real beauty still resides, in the innocence of a child, the softness of the raindrops, the calmness of the ocean waves, and "life" within each passing moment.

The poet in me, could not recede my words, nor my fervor to pen down a few -

Scattered  away in moments- gentle,
Drops of joy, to give,
A thing of beauty, enjoyed forever,
So, Stay a while, and live!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have written this for the Yahoo! Real Beauty contest



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Psyche (Sid)