Sunday

Solitary Sunday

Wet eyes

Heavy breath

Morbid visions

Dark shadows

Numbness

An atheist prays

Dying optimism

Birth of a cynic

Desperate affection

Contemptuous imagination

Scornful dreams

Self mocking

Forced acceptance

In that order

i feel numb for a split second
feel shattered the other

feel someone has died deep inside
almost as if my soul is running out of reasons to live inside

as if i am waiting for the gallows , life smeared with darkness
her thoughts which painted my life red are turning black

my life is walking off and am sitting tied with the unbreakable
the movie has ended and i felt pity till the time i realised it was my life

will never live if she leaves...cant hold on...
cant un love her ...cant love neone beyond her.......

have felt the lowest of lows
the extremes of agony...

guess my best wasn't enough..................

i loved u since september

i know it all started suddenly and i know we rushed in ...
i know i made mistakes and did the wrongs in the very beginning...

i cant forget the coldplays...the wines and the dance...
getting late , making excuses and innumerable promises
those months i was in some kinda trance...

do u remember the night at blues...when u said it all...
it still sounds as if it was just yesterday..

the morning drives to office...the sun on ur face..
and the sparkle in ur eyes which grew with every passing day

how i hated to part and how i wanted u to be their every single day
couldn't change it at all..just that now i want u every split second

u bought me love when i had started hating the very word..
u held on to me when the winds from past tried to blew my life...

the sunday lunches, the tc nights and the jams at dj's ...
dont remember the life before u and cant think of one without u...

the trips to the jungle ,the urge to fight the world..
wish it was still around...wish u were still around...

i know u might never read this..
even if u read ,,,u might not believe this..

i am in love with u ....since i remember...
i have fallen in love with u every single day since that September

Sometimes the where becomes more predominant then the what….
When the where is the only constant and what becomes variable…

Though the what will always be more defining then the where….
I thought of writing of the where rather then the what…

Strange but my last three life changing what’s happened at the same were…

Goa and me have established some sort of a karmic connection.


Walked on the beach with some one and with no one

Danced in the water in the day and in the night

Counted the stars and the rain drops

Saw the sun sets and the depressions

Saw the sun rises and the ray of hopes

Got drunk on port wine and life

Ate omelets and goan pork sausages

Read Che and Morrison

Rode in to the dawn and walked in to darkness

Smoked with nudists and the layered

Heard everyone and myself

The dead me , the dying me , the young ,me and the newborn me danced to the trance…

Questioned god and his very existence

Got convinced and let go

Luved ,hated , felt , shaired , caught , met ,,,life here …

self reflection and shit

you know how it is to go through your phone book every evening....
wondering whom to call ....
hoping some one will listen...will agree to go out for dinner or may be a harmless coffee...
wanting to spend time with someone ...anyone ...not alone it is killing me now...(Jesus this is desperation)

went through my phonebook yet again....wondered .....called but well how lucky could i get,,,,
another lonely evening,,,,decided not to get bogged down,,,,ordered my pepperoni pizza...went for a shot drive,,,,,grabbed a frappe....smoked 3 ...tripped sitting in front of ccd...watchin ....luvin hating,,,,ppl moving around....and guess what Beatles played live for me...

the problem is that i am experiencing this for the first time in my lifetime...,never felt so lonely...so helpless...guess i have chosen this for me,,,,its like getting to know the real me...self reflection and shit, or rather forced self reflection..iam not exactly enjoying it...but ya its different then whateve i have been doing...ok enough iam loosing the plot,,,

this aint me

just read all what i wrote..and shit i realised what a deppresed fuck i am..
the reality is i am an extreme optimist.
used to be really happy as well..
wonder what happned...
i think its just that i write when i am sad..
is it like that allways...
we become more expressive when we are sad....
or is that there are a lot of thoes fogies around when ur happy...
well i guess need to start writing when i am happy ....cause i hate this shit...

sunday morning

Sunday mornings….start with dizziness….its like a struggle
a struggle to stay in the bed…asleep
a struggle to complete my dreams from the week gone
a struggle to interpret what I couldn’t the day before
a struggle to see the signs I couldn’t see
a struggle to read the love in her eyes
a struggle to hear deceit in her voice
a struggle to search nothing of everything and everything of nothing hidden in the corners of my struggling soul

Its like a collating a jigsaw.
to view my ghosts,
to view my disturbed soul….
to view the one who let go
to view who didn’t
to view those I left behind
and those who did that to me..


And then the dizziness gives way to fear

the fear of what has gone wrong going wrong again
the fear of the blasts from the past
the fear of listening the screams from the past
the fear of voices so cold ,cutting through me again
the fear of missing the bus again and yet again
the fear to loose her and everyone yet again


Cant take no more…the light pierces me deep down…
How I used to love my Sunday mornings …well not anymore..dono why…

Well still love one thing about my Sunday…my masala chai…
Life is not that bad…or it is…dono…fuck it ,,tea is great though..