Black Rose- Vague Snippet

The silence encompassed for so long that voices seemed very foreign. With changing times, searching for a stable ground has become a tough task. She pulled herself close and strong and got out of the sturdy field. It was one of the most difficult times. She wanted to drown in the darkness and never wake up. The thought to kill herself crossed her mind. That was a bad idea. She tried to peel off the layers of the pain to finally see the world, and there it is; life has a different game altogether. The moving objects made her realize the real existence of running emotions. However stable the ground maybe, the fear of fall is overriding. Still, she glimmered when the sun shimmered and said Hi. The various shades of rainbow hues on the velvety black rose are seldom seen. 

Too many colors hide the grief; too many lights hide the darkness.

WANING DUSKY CRY!!!

CAUTION CONNOISSEUR, this ain't a POEM!!!

Towards the evening I rise, rise to fall so low
Blending with ocean, trees, and eyes
Towards the end, I shimmer
With the glow of final adieu!

It is, I think, the never ending thought of a bye
that brings the joy before it shatters
Into million pieces of memories, all shining in hues
Till the end I carry, the sun of heart, the sun of soul
waiting for the death bell to ring before I say a bye

It is fascinating, O' yes, it is
To try and evaluate the relativity of death
Is it me dying or you moving, a question hanging in still air
Never dodging the self-proclaimed hideous 'you' that hides in you,
I believe it's me who is dead, and not you

As the sun of sky, I say bye
Never to return or so I thought
I am a nomad of a small niche
So, I return to say hi, every morning
With a due pattern

Well, well, who am I to say it all
These, thy emotions deep hidden in the morning sun of dawn.
I am no poet, it read

But to the heart you are, I said
There's a magic cast between the twilight and dusk
Before plummeting into darkness

Never forget it's the same sun all along


PS: This piece of writing is a mishap, but has to be put through randomness to connect the hidden lines. After all, reading between the lines is what I crave! 

Connoisseur of everyday nature!

The silent zephyr that touched, rummaging and making way through the thick summer air, the moment of unbridled joy when it kisses the skin. Well, there is definitely something magical about the summer breeze with a hint of childlike cold air, not completely dead but hidden somewhere in the depths of the meditative heart. Definitely, magical. 

I believe there needs no huge glimmer-glamour to make one smile. If your sanity isn't pitched too high till the tilt and veer to insanity, a simple whiff of fresh air and pleasant weather can gyrate you into joy. The intoxicating smell of the mud when it rains, the silent musical breeze, and a pure heart without vicious thoughts are all you need to take the happy share of the beautiful life. 

Menial mishaps, loneliness, unexpected nadirs, all are but to telecast the density of the other part that life holds. The reality of life is what you want to perceive but not what everyone wants you to perceive. Life's a dream you want to live, not the technical mess people want you to believe. Live the happy way you want. Enjoy the silent gestures of the speaking nature!   

Reminiscing the times...

Feeling oddly unusual, I sat down for the umpteenth time on the couch. It's been two days since the distressed state of mind. I am not sure of the predicament though. How typical! There is this state of mind wherein you cannot figure out what's up in it, maybe it it eats the resources. The sudden rush of emotions and the confused agony tagged along, the lump in the throat not settling and everything is a mess. Literally. Having a stable yet cheerful life, I used to be a person of joy. It's almost a year and that person is still missing. There's a saying, "A decision sometimes changes the life". I don't know about the life part, but yes few dynamics drastically push you and it is so hard to retrieve the reigns you left in the midair in the rush of the jerk. Reading between the lines and having the most unusual judge that I am, I zone out to tragedy, quite often. The whole point of my illogical blabber is, why. Why I feel the change not settling? "Simple 'coz I ain't happy dear O' dear" is what the little bird chirps.  The distinguished light of the comfort zone dims and holds me captivated in its vice grip and never lets me off to the light. What, I should now start loving the darkness that's engulfing me? The straight answer from inside is NO. Bull's eye. That is when I found my old classic collection of 90's music hidden in some folder and my journal where I have jotted all my dreams believing the superhuman I am going to be in the future. This was seven years back. I let the tears flow and then I felt the sweet ache of happiness engulf me. It is indeed a dream or maybe not. Why do they say memories are beautiful. They can be so uncanny and disturbing sometimes. Especially, the happy ones. The sad ones are consistent anyway. I dwell a little bit around my articles and the 'Journey to hilltop' that I have written on my trip to Nepal. With the never ending thoughts, something clicked like a light wave and I realize that sometimes we need the change, to show us to the right shoes we want to wear.

Seemingly short and disoriented lines!
Well, life indeed is disoriented, words are mere things!

Of Momentous times and collecting Shackles

I gaze along the silent scenery in front of me. Dusk seeped through the day, and the sky tickled the mixture of gray and white. A lethal combination! I have been sitting near the window of my room for quite a while, listening to the musical downpour. Few droplets stealthily entering into the room and onto my skin, which reminded me of my present existence. The heaviness of the mug reminding me of the magical concoction, chai that occasionally I sipped. I let the cinnamon and cardamom flavor hit my senses. I have been reminiscing my past. Memories dangerously overcrowded my bonnet.

I come from haunts of coot and hern,

I make a sudden sally,

And sparkle out among the fern,

To bicker down a valley.

By thirty hills I hurry down,

Or slip between the ridges,

By twenty thorps, a little town,

And half a hundred bridges.

Till last by Philip's farm I flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on forever.

The silent zephyr and the raindrops giving me goosebumps. I run my finger lazily over the rim of the chai cup, slipping into the memory lane of the past year. Escaping the summers and finding solace in the hills for some days has been the major event for years now. Munnar, a beautiful place, somewhere in the woods of Kerala, so exotic and rich with undisturbed beauty. The time has been different. It was not just my family with me, but my best friend tagged with me on the trip too. I felt too restless all along the trip because I knew somehow things are going to change. I was to move away from my family for my studies abroad. So, like a hungry tiger, I tried to capture as many memories as I can.

I chatter over stony ways,

In little sharps and trebles,

I bubble into eddying bays,

I babble on the pebbles.

With many a curve my banks I fret

by many a field and fallow,

And many a fairy foreland set

With willow-weed and mallow.

I chatter, chatter, as I flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on forever.

One morning during the trip, I successfully dragged my papa for a morning walk in the hills, others too lazy to wake up and snuggled in the warm confines of the morning. At around 6:30 in the morning I convinced my papa to go for a walk and promising him with the special chai that I discovered the previous evening in a small stall down the hill. We walked in silence. The mystic sky groaning and letting the people know of the upcoming shower. Papa has been one of my best friends, and he is the hero of my life. Amma, Papa, my sister, my friend -my partners in crime- have been with me through thick and thin of my life.

And here and there a foamy flake

Upon me, as I travel

With many a silver water-break

Above the golden gravel,

The walk to the chai stall was silent. I pulled him inside the overcrowded chai stall and ordered for two special chai. We took the chai and walked across the quiet lane that lay sprawled and unhindered. As we walked along the silent road, it started raining. We rushed to a small canopy of the banyan trees wherein few people took shelter from the rain. The clime of the hills is always unpredictable. It is, without any speck of doubt the most exciting place. We settled on the rocks enjoying the steaming chai. Papa turned to me and told me few things. Things that I can cherish all my life. He spoke about my childhood, the times that are hurriedly changing. The unbridled fatherly pride that he held in the cocoon of his heart. He told me how important it is for me to live confidently and never loose hope. Ever.

I steal by lawns and grassy plots,

I slide by hazel covers;

I move the sweet forget-me-nots

That grow for happy lovers.

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,

Among my skimming swallows;

I make the netted sunbeam dance

Against my sandy shallows.

The sudden whiff of fresh rain hit my nostrils through the window breaking my reverie. I took another sip from the magical mug. I never thought that something as ordinary as rain and as usual as chai would bring back memories so pivotal at the brink when I felt so gloomy. I smile looking at the falling leaves and the sound of rain, which gave me so much more solace in the times of dearth of decisive actions. It was just yesterday I sat with my friend, and she told me something so menial but so extraordinary. She chuckled at me when I told her how sometimes taking pain is beautiful. She smiled and said 'we are not here to suffer but live. Live as happily and comfortably as we can!' and just like that, the words took so much more place in my bonnet than I can believe.

I murmur under moon and stars

In brambly wildernesses;

I linger by my shingly bars;

I loiter round my cresses;

And out again I curve and flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on forever.

Time never ceases to amaze me. Now when I think, I feel so much more different. So much happier. So much more passionate and independent. It is not to push ourselves to suffer and distress the kind heart, which beats every second so punctually. Time heals and time destroys. Till eternity it ensures changes, for good or for bad. It is for us to decide to let go and live life like a better person and enjoy every turn we take. Because every corner of life that we take, there is always hope for us. Hope for something better but it is just on us to ensure that the shackles of the distress are hidden somewhere, and yes confidence takes the duty for that purpose. Indeed, live confidently and never lose hope. The brook as said by Alfred Tennyson travels witnessing the changing times.

PS: I had the strongest urge to express my feelings and what else can be better than writing it out.

PPS: It is one of my favorite poems written by Alfred Tennyson. It has so much meaning in it. If only we can read between the lines...

The excerpts of the poem are taken from http://www.poetry-archive.com/t/the_brook.html.