Regal

If he loves you now, what else matters? He's not perfect. You aren't either. And the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, cause you to think twice, and admits to being human and making mistakes, hold on to him and give him the most you can. He's not going to quote poetry. He's not going to be thinking of you every moment. But he will give you a part of him that he knows you can break. So, don't hurt him. Don't change him. Don't expect more than he can give you. Try not to over-analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad. And miss him, when he's not there.


That's from one year ago, well a year and a few days now. But then it was that magic of possibility and returns again, with a new spring.

Not that it needed to wait for spring to fluorish. It's just that magic of comparing then to now and saying ok yes, some things are the same.

Last evening was one of those brilliant gloomy ones. You feel, smell, sense that revitalizing essence that is spring. I had to get off a train that decided to stop working and I was overwhelmed suddenly by the beauty of the evening. The balmy wind though your hair like a caress, on your face like a lazy kiss. The mist that tingles your visual faculties and blurs everything into a serene mystery.

And that happy feeling of being able to listen to some really good songs after a vacation from good songs. And the magical hum on the airwaves, something that's there on the horizon, or whispering through the breezes, at some times you pick up a note of tu hi arzoo hai tu hi justju hai baaki ab raha kya? or the opening chords of kisi ka sapna lage tu.., somehow there is magic in the air and it comes out curiously and tickles your senses so that it leaves you like a kitten fascinated with a ribbon that keeps eluding yet enticing. You feel like tilting your head to the side like one and yet pouncing into the air with exuberance. Or maybe that's just me.

Mrow.

Reaction

For some time now, I'd been doing that thing we all do at times: reminiscing. True, there is hardly anything surprising in this. Not that we all do this at times, but that I have been. I'm guilty of the practise almost every other moment. And one of the products of such a pastime is in comparing today to a year ago. As such, I'd been thinking about how one year ago, there was a new song that fit the mood, the theme of lyrics being applicable to the situation; how much more - one year ago - the intimacy of sharing music and relating was a habit, compared to now where such little things have been put on backburners, where it's not so important to let those important things be voiced - why? When you give so much enthusiastically and its slapped away with a noncommittal reaction, is it so unreasonable that the enthusiasm dies? Then you have to hide the hurt, because hurting itself becomes unreasonable. Straighten your back, care less, hurt less.

So, I'd been thinking it's been so long since I had a song. Emphasis on "A" song; there had been a history of those special songs that just were THE song. Suddenly, the realization that there haven't been any, aren't any anymore came to light. Upon considering the whys and wherefores of this, I had to come to the conclusion that it in fact was attributable to the same enthusiasm-slap reaction. Why put your heart on a platter when the receiver doesn't care to relish the taste.

In any case, it's not about the self, more of accepting. Cutting out parts of yourself to make room for smoother sailing, because those things aren't half as important as the reason for it all.

And so yes, today I've got one. It's one of them that just jump out at you, where the lyrics describe and explain it all so accurately.


Kehte hain khuda ne is jahan mein sabhi ke liye
Kisi na kisi ko hai banaya har kisi ke liye
Tera milna hai us rab ka ishara maano
Mujhko banaya tere jaise hi kisi ke liye
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta
Kaise hum jaane hume kya pata
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta
Tu humsafar hai, phir kya fikar hai
Jeene ki wajah yahi hai marna isi ke liye
Kehte hain khuda ne iss jahan mein sabhi ke liye
Kisi na kisi ko hai banaya har kisi ke liye

Meherbaani jaate jaate mujh pe kar gaya
Guzarta sa lamha ek daaman bhar gaya
Tere nazara mila, roshan sitara mila
Takdeer ki kashtiyon ko, kinara mila

Sadiyon se tarse hai jaisi zindagi ke liye
Teri sauhbat mein duaayein hain usi ke liye
Tera milna hai us rab ka ishaara
Maano mujhko banaya tere jaise hi kisi ke liye


Kehte hain khuda ne iss jahan mein sabhi ke liye
kisi na kisi ko hai banaya har kisi ke liye
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta
Kaise hum jaane hume kya pata
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta

Tu humsafar hai, phir kya fikar hai
Jeene ki wajah yahi hai marna issi ke liye
Kehte hain khuda ne iss jahan mein sabhi ke liye
Kisi na kisi ko hai banaya har kisi ke liye

March

Now that I'm almost fully better (almost being the operative word) I feel that it is necessary to balance the forces by putting forward a somewhat rehabilitated account of things.

It is interesting to observe the correlation between mind and body, or emotional state to physical. As such, I can attest to the functionality with which my dip in physical well-being translates to the emotional state. Whereas I opted to vent the lapse in words as is evident in my last blog submission, I feel it is only justice to be able to return again and also account for the restoration.

The sun's out pretty much in full force today, and while that seems to be something to celebrate, it is in fact accompanied by the bracing, frigid and biting cold that cuts off the instinct to cheer. It's March! Yay for the obvious.

In any case, stepping out while the sun is up and at it is invigorating. The beautiful dove strutting its stuff alongside, another plus. It is Monday, and it is another new day in another new week. When we craved for the light, we cherished it so much more for it's absence. When it creeps up and accompanies us day in and day out, we forget that we missed it.

When all you wanted deep inside was that one thing, the somewhat natural instinct built in us - in the mind? in the heart? - to long for that which would or should complete us, when it becomes ours we work so hard to make it something regular. Regular because, if regular and just as mundane, it would have less tendency to dissipate? Regular because for fear of throwing it up in the air like confetti, the wind might blow it right out of our hands? Regular because it's better to keep it close and accept it because there is no longer any need to place it on an altar to cherish and worship?

Regardless of the many possibilities, we are, as such, creatures of habituation. We acclimatize to changes and we have a bad habit of making the extraordinary ordinary. When we have what we always wanted, so easily we fidget and fuss with that which we have to want even more or something else. And we forget what we have is what we need, else we would not have been given it. Then how can we be such ungrateful beings to turn away in a moment of despair from that which we have, which we wanted, which we need.

Sometimes not everyone could be as lucky to say that, thankfully, that which I need also needs me. And when you turn away from something like that, you can't walk or run too far before that elastic bond has you snapping back. And it in itself is a torment you yearned for, to feel, and feel everything that it instills and begets.

So when the rains come lashing down and the clouds cover everything, it makes it all the more beautiful when the sun comes back out.

Ehsaan

It's been months since I last wrote. That could be taken in either way, good or bad. Because writing is therapy, an outlet of emotions, something I resort most often when I feel most alone, it could be viewed as a blessing that I haven't had to blog in so long. And yet, could be viewed just as inauspicious by the very fact I am here again writing today. It's not always that I am writing when under the weather, and in fact, I had meant to write many times in the past. It's a measure of both procrastination and being too busy that contributes to the fact that I haven't.

Am I sad? Or am I happy.. so answer this honestly I don't know. I know it is a measure again of both, not in equal quantity, and as such I do know that I am confused. Yesterday when this came about, the word that was so strong in my mind out of nowhere was 'dhoka'. I can't explain this. It wasn't intentional in the wrong way, and yet...it was. The fact that it wasn't intentional is what somehow hurts more, that it was natural.

You give yourself entirely and make them a part of everything, and when they don't, the fact you do is suddenly wrong. When it hits you that you're just a part of part of their world, and not everything like you made them. When all the missing pieces suddenly drop and it clicks, that, in fact, there are no real missing pieces, all the things you believed were there behind words unspoken and unexpressed were just figments of imagination stemming from your own hopes and feelings. And you wonder what let you down, who let you down - was it your own heart? It hurts, and still it would make excuses for the one who hurt it. That's the problem with it all.

The sun rose pretty early today, as did I. And all I wanted to do was call in sick and bury myself again under my blankets. Stuffy nose and sore throats are not fun. But still better than self-pity. Outside, watching the sun rise and while alone, the company of my dearly beloved doves. Yes they've returned again for another year!

Ehsaan is the song again. Because sometimes nothing is better than being alone.

Confabulation

It's Thursday morning, and although I do have things to work on while at work, here I am writing another blog, "wasting" time in stating the obvious - ie. it it Thursday. But that which seems to be the obvious now, in this moment in time, might that only be a passing phase of skewered perception that within passed moments, in retrospect prove otherwise, in fact not true?

I can hear that voice in my head even as I write that asking me if I just can't write simply. That's part of it, in writing here I write my thoughts and feelings and at the other hand these thoughts and feelings although showcased in a public portal, somewhat protected by registration mandates for viewer discretion and, in the very way I write, somewhat vague and abstract, so that my own thoughts and feelings are also protected by a modicrum of privacy.

*sigh* So I had saved this, and then come back to continue and me being me, BOY did I write alot, and GUESS WHAT, I hit the submit button and it tells me to log in- pretty much losing everything I wrote. Good lord. Let us have a moment of silence for the words we have lost.

Moving on, or trying to come up with the same words I had written previously- which we all know is impossible- there we have it, my words are now memories, and only remembered by myself. I shall indulge myself in a luxury:

Crush

I've got maybe 6 minutes until the reason I'm inspired to write makes an appearance, and although it's what I have been anticipating all afternoon from the moment of our last farewell, I've got to admit that I also am hoping I am actually allotted that said 5 now minutes remaining. That being said, its about two weeks since the last Happy Friday I was feeling incredibly exuberant. Since then the swing has swung as it does, day in, day out, moment now, moment passed...And from the landmarks holding the bridge between last Happy Friday a forthnight ago, to this Friday, there as much as a string bridge sags, have also been lows. But that's not what I wanted to get down in words. All too often I find that, in the past at least, on the most part I write in solitude, for those moments when I'm down and in so being, alone. Or, I must amend that last bit - feeling alone. Because despite the stubbornness or the self pity or whatever low frequency I'd allow myself to wallow in underneath it all I do know, most blindly, that I am not alone. Outside of my own heart there beats another which is in tune to the pace of mine and care for it. That says alot and that gives the greatest perspective to life. In a span of maybe two hours, you can be so overwhelmed by the multitude of thoughts and feelings that can overcome you, you can go from thoughts of the macrocosm around you to the relevance of it inward, and vice versa. When I say you 'can' I believe in fact you must, you cannot live without doing this, consciously or subconsciously. No matter what you may be doing, caught up in, your mind on another level is translating everything you do to another level above, within. For me, it could be listening to music, reading, sitting in silence, overhearing random conversations, talking to someone you don't care to talk to, listening to the one who matters the most.

The oddest thing is, I hardly even knew these words would be what would be typed out when I clicked the New Blog button. None of it. And I knew it would happen because like the way thoughts go and flitter from one thing to another, these words are replicas of my thoughts.

I'm writing because I'm glad. Today could be anointed as a special day for many reasons. Friday. Or 11/11/11. Or Remembrance Day. Or, as in my own personal case- waking up early while it is still dark to the full power of the Moon shining straight through my window into my face, over me. Entirely washing over me from where my head lay on my pillow. Maybe it was one blessing in replacement of the usual one, because it was a morning I didn't have that special person to send me off to work after fussing over my breakfast and lunch being packed. Despite my own complaints over that fussiness, I missed it even if it were for just that morning.

And well, that's how much I got down before the reason arrived maybe more another day.

Pretending

“There’s a lot that goes around it. Trust and respect and—” He cleared his throat again. “Attraction. But the center’s a reflection of all of those things, all your strengths and weaknesses, hopes and dreams. They catch fire there, in the center. Maybe it blazes, maybe it simmers, smolders, but there’s the heat and the light, all those colors, and what’s around it feeds it.
“Fire doesn’t only destroy. Sometimes it creates. The best of it creates, and when love’s a fire, whether it’s bright or a steady glow, hot or warm, it creates. It makes you better than you were without it.”

Despite the arguments, moodswings, sensitivity, frustrations, getting annoyed, debates...every single day, more than you know, more than even I'm able to know, I'm thankful, so incredibly thankful, for it all.

Forever Fall-en

On the way home, the wind was blowing hard, the leaves scattering here and there, rushing past the face and spiralling up towards some destination in the past. Oranges, browns, taupes, reds, beige, here and there sparsely tinted with remnants of youthful green. A grey yet sombre evening, with that wet chill of a lingering rainfall, signifying the autumn that buries and gets buried to be reborn again in spring. There was something melancholy in the atmosphere, whether it was within or without was hard to distinguish. There was a roiling wave of upending turmoil that was urging to come out from a long forgotten slumber. As I walked through the cascades of fallen leaves, I brought my eyes down from the flock of birds up there amid the heavy clouds to rest on the sight of a tree stump, chopped down, no more.

The significance was prominent, and that's when the turmoil within decided to come without. I fought against it, to restrain it: the thoughts, the memories, the feelings that come out without reason- long time forbidden to the self for the simplest reason of futility. The tree, where countless moments spent a growing friendship, playing in the treehouse that was OURS, the decisions of how to build it, who should do what, and the underlying best part of it all was that it was ours and together we'd share all of it, the times you'd catch me if I fell off a branch, or be ready to steady me as I carelessly made a fool climbing it, the times you'd have a ready hand for the times I'd trip over a root, teasing you for the many admirers who wanted to carve their name with yours on it, annoying you with my craziness, getting in your face just to make you know that you weren't alone, the times I'd swing away in my own world while you'd be leaning on the trunk doing your own thing, the minutes, the days, the months, the years. Each season watching our leaves fall and knowing they'd be back again no matter what.

"No matter what" really isn't any guarantee, is it? There is something about forever that indicates a perpetuity of positive connotations. And yet, forever is never; forever is those leaves that never come back despite new ones growing again, forever is the colours that change and fade to nothing despite knowing that new colours will be repainted again. Forever is the goodbye, it was nice knowing you, I guess. Or maybe the goodbye that never gets said. Forever could be the whys and the what the hell happened. Or could be those questions, asked forever. Maybe they don't deserve to be asked. There is something about forever that is like a chronic backpain...it just doesn't seem to go away. Oh yeah, it is forever afterall. So who took the first chop? Does it matter now, when answers don't solve problems that aren't there anymore - because no one cares? And if noone does, why am I even asking?

The sun diminished and the light disappeared. The moon winked, and hid behind its clouds. In the pitch darkness I lit a candle and left the bed. The world was sleeping, the wind was whispering. In the flickering light of the single flame, I followed my shadow down the long crinkled path of the fallen, and came upon it, the stump of a tree. I looked at it in silence and thought silently, sometimes, one doesn't get a chance to say goodbye. One doesn't get a chance to tell someone what they'd meant to them. And sometimes, you tell them, try to tell them many times, and you get told goodbye without being told because they aren't there to tell anymore.

And I tipped the candle and let the flame tickle the surface of the long gone tree. It might have giggled, or it might have cried. I turned my back to it as it was engulfed in flames.

Sometimes, it is better to say goodbye.                    

Spades

I wanted to write a blog, but the thoughts I put down into words didn't seem properly expressed, and even then, to have them read by all and sundry didn't seem so appropriate either. Nevertheless, the words are I, as the thoughts are of I. Subsequently, whosoever "I " is (am) should not go unabashed at the exposure of emotions, or should they? But here they are wandering indecidedly without a proper place to rest. As much as the rest of the being that is I.



How does one put sorrow into words, or express suffering, without it being a form of selfishsness? One holds back the surging torrent of emotion that remains at the very brink, with you fighting with everything within to prevent it from crashing out. How does one cope with the idea that this suffering is only a phase that will surely pass, as is expected of those who stay warily on the outskirts of personal boundaries hoping that this safety alert will soon pass. How does one balance the idea that happiness is so easily attained when one realizes that it is only then that you are not left alone, and when sadness springs forth, so recede those you had around you, tiptoing away with that uncomfortable undertone of helplessness. This is the underpining of much of society; do we grasp strongly to the emotions that pull us under and devote ourselves to the solitude this incorporates, or do we continuously paint ourselves with comical red smiles of clowns upon the sadness that lies below so as to ensure that if not ourselves perhaps others would be convinced that although perhaps an act, at least it is an attempt, and we can all laugh in relief, at least to laugh together.



And when dealt a blow we have only the option of having to deal with it in return. How long does one continue to deal with suffering that prolongs and perpetuates in patterns of errant chaos and order. How does one explain oneself without seeking to be understood when there exists none who wishes to share it in all that it is. And the self; on one hand wishing to slap oneself for the uprising of sadness and on the other wanting to do the same for the false feeling of surpressing it. Is the solution in simply not feeling? And the frustration at not being understood and wishing to be- yet also at the unfairness of it, for how does another accomplish this for you, another being, when you yourself cannot do this for yourself?



To smile, not for oneself but for those one cares for without regard for the self and the continuous cycle of loss and life, and just accept it that you have just got to keep giving without ever expecting anything in return, and when you get hurt you bear the pain yourself and just keep going.                    

Bones

I read a poem on the transit coming home today...and it struck me, stuck to me, in the ways words do:

And I shall tell him that the thought of him
turns me to water
and when his name is spoken pale still sky
trembles and breaks and moves like blowing water
that winter thaws its frozen drifts in water
all matter blurs, unsteady, seen through water
and I, in him, dislimn, water in water?

As true: the thought of him
has made me marble
and when his name is spoken blowing sky
settles and freezes in a dome of marble
and winter seals its floury drifts in marble
all matter double-locks as dense as marble
and I, in others' eyes, am cut from marble.


And of course it had to bring to mind the one who makes one feel all this- through, within, without, wherefore, and all the prepositionals that pertain to the emotion. THE emotion. Does one even label it as an emotion? It's a noun, it's a verb, it's...like the universal solvent, a universal solution..yet, not the physical entity as defined by science, but the solution as in the counterpart of the puzzle.

It made me think, how does one FEEL that ... amazing feeling, and it brought to mind the idea that to feel that extremity of emotion indicates a novelty in the experience of it. That it means you're just beginning, that it's a phase that phases out. Why should it be so however, I questioned. Bringing to mind again that line from a book which concluded that it was the lack of... that was the entirety. That it was in ..wanting. Which took me to the train of thought (apt enough for being on the train itself)... that the query asking for the difference between 'falling in love' and 'being in love' could be differentiated in ascertaining that falling had to do with wanting..and love itself in giving. To have only one indicates an imbalance, and therefore to want and to give and... perhaps, to want to give as well as to receive and be wanted in return, sums up the ultimate balance in attaining that ultimate contentment.

And that contentment, at the moment I was thinking all of this is what made me more than grateful for all the little parts that led to the whole. Somehow jumping and sometimes missing the little slippery stones trying to not fall in and drown did in fact lead to the dream island. Wherefore next?

Decombobulations

'I love you' means that I accept you for the person that you are and that I do not wish to change you into someone else. It means that I do not expect perfection from you-just as you do not expect it from me. It means that I will love you and stand by you even through the worst of times. It means loving you when you're in a bad mood or too tired to do the things I want to do. It means loving you when you're down-not just when you're fun to be with. 'I love you' means that I know your deepest secrets and do not judge you for them-asking in return only that you do not judge me for mine. It means that I care enough to fight for what we have and that I love enough not to let go. It means thinking of you, dreaming of you, wanting and needing you constantly, and hoping that you feel the same way for me.

And its May again. I don't know how I would be able to let this go by without putting something down in words; to let this season of change go by without the acknowledgment of trying or wanting to remember it again later on does not seem too feasible, at least for me. And change, ahh that's the crux of the matter, when isn't it? For it is not simply in the renewal of foliage and the rebirth of greenery, nor the return of birdsong so long missed. Along with such change comes the change that is ever present within, and that may be simply the reflection that mother nature asks of us to examine when she manifests it in our world.

As we walk along farther towards that destination that we only hope to know without ever truly knowing, what bonds do we let trail behind slowly yet assuredly diminishing its hold upon us - or our hold on it. Whatever it may be, perhaps in assuming aspirations from air into solid proof of reality, other realities are no longer required.

When you have been dreaming of that one thing for as long as you can remember, when it is that simple and sure wish deep within you despite your protestatons and pretensions otherwise, when it is that deeply rooted want that gives you an unconscious fuel to hoping somehow and therefore continuing in existence, when it no longer a castle in the air, but a place that you're walking in daily, exploring, astonished at its actuality - then what?

What substantiates the emotional adjustments needed to come to terms with it all? A need to buckle down and keep it all there, before it somehow evaporates again into that castle in the air versus that somewhat guilty pleasure of actually enjoying it and therefore, somehow make it a reality that you must accept. And in accepting, does one not begin to take it for granted, to acknowlege its presence and existence reflective of assumptions and presumptions, that all lessen the worth of that which is so worth it all?

It may be no wonder that within comes storms of unbidden emotions, of uncertainties and the need to appreciate it all for what it means, but also to be able to curtail all obstacles that take away from the possibility of really taking permanent residence in that palace. Unspoken, inarticulatable...yet so implicit in understanding, without real comprehension.

Why is that which feels so right still such a surprise, the expected becoming unexpected, the inevitable a revelation. Perhaps because it goes beyond words in actuality and its power and worth never truly gauged for the very reason that it was never experienced.

=]                    

Ninja

The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.

Tu mera jahan bhi, tu mera khuda bhi
Tu hi hai yahan bhi, aur hai wahan bhi
Tu, hai saare manzar ka
Tu meri zameen hai, tu hi aasman bhi
Rab na adaa ki hai woh khushiyan bhi
Tu, kahun sach bakhuda
Tu hi rubaru hai, tu hi chaarsu hai
Baaki ab raha kya
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Tere hone si hi hai mere toh dono jahaan
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Teri hi raahon mein hai meri manzil ka pata

You're all I want
You're all I need
You're love has set me free
You're all I want
You're all I need
You're love has set me free

Main dard se har gadhi aa hifazat karun teri
Haan ik shajar banke main dhoop sehrunga
Teri main (raaton mein)
Dard se (aankhon mein)
Har gadhi (khawaabon mein tu)
Aa hifazat karun teri
Haan ik shajar banke main dhoop sehrunga
Tu hi aarzoo hai, tu hi justaju hai
Baaki ab raha kya
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Tere hone si hi hai mere toh dono jahaan
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Teri hi raahon mein hai meri manzil ka pata

You're everything I want
You're everything I need and all my love
Heaven is what I feel when you're around
You're everything I want
You're everything I need
You're my dream come true, you're my dream come true
I wanna spend forever with you

Main ishq mein har gadhi bas ibaadat karoon teri
Ya baant loon sang tere har khushi
Jo bhi ho meri (raaton mein tu)
Ishq mein (yaadon mein tu)
Har gadhi (saanson mein tu)
Bas ibaadat karoon teri
Ya baant loon sang tere har khushi
Jo bhi ho meri
Tu hi khamoshi hai, tu hi guftagu hai
Baaki ab raha kya
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Tere hone si hi hai mere toh dono jahaan
Beshuba beshuba, hai yakeen beshuba
Teri hi raahon mein hai meri manzil ka pata



 

Kuch

It's surprising, the greatest of happinesses comes along with its portion of sadness. Just to be able to have it you know that the time starts ticking just as quickly for that time when you have to let it go.

When every other little thought takes that form, and where from every thought comes a smile, a laugh, alone or among strangers; you choke it back thinking - how will I ever survive without this?

What do you do when you're faced with losing that which is so much a part of yourself? When finally you've realized something beyond all the hopes you once had, a reality in your hands, but just as likely to become a faded memory?

How much more you learn to pray, not to gain what that you've found, but to be able to retain it, for that much more longer.

It's a pain deep inside, a quiet sorrow, and a despair for that which completes you. Everyday you have it, its a day of happiness, and so ironically just as much the worst of pains.

It becomes a big sigh, where words cannot be told. Where words are not said, but shared in an unspoken manner.

One whole; once apart, but now together, how can they ever separate again?


Jaane yeh kya hua
Jaane Yeh kya hua
Hum dono ka yun milna
Aise paaas aana

Jaane yeh kya hua
Jaane Yeh kya hua
Abb har pal anjana hai
Dekho hona hai
Aur kya

Jaane kyun lagta hai
Dheere se haule se
Geet koi Dil hai ga raha

Jaane kyun lagta hai
Abb jaise har lamha har pal hai
Muskura raha

Jaane kyun lagta hai
Dheere se haule se
Geet koi Dil hai ga raha

Jaane kyun lagta hai
Abb jaise har lamha har pal hai
Muskura raha


Tumhein hai pata
mene pehli baar jo dekha tumhein
Mujhe yeh laga
chahun bhi to kaise pa sakunga
Tumhein
Sapna tha ek din to
main hoon tum ho
Tum dheere se bolo
Tumko apna mana hai
Dekho hona hai
Aur kya

Jane kyun lagta hai
Dheere se haule se
Geet koi Dil hai ga raha
Jane kyun lagta hai
Abb jaise har lamha har pal hai
Muskura raha

Kahun kya bhala
Tumhi ko to mein chahta hoon Suno
Tumhein jo mila
Mene jana main bhi zinda hoon
Suno
Kahun mein kya tumko
Main hoon tum hoo
Bas itna sun lo
Tum the koi deewana hai
ho na hai aur kya

Jaane yeh kya hua
Jaane Yeh kya hua
Abb har pal anjana hai
Dekho hona hai
Aur kya

Eternity

Rapture, where have you left me?
I’m so cold
Why have you put me on a hold?
I made a promise with you
And stayed so true to you
Still you’re draining me of soul
Feeding me the cold
Leaving me so alone

I've got the thoughts, swirling around like fireflies
about my head.
Each has got a light of its own, and they flicker,
flickering on and off
About my head, in and out
And Ive got the thoughts but not the words
How do I begin,
How can I?
It's beyond even me myself and-
I
dont know how to begin
Without an end to start with.

I’m moving around around around the thought of you
I’m yearning to slip and fall and crash into you
I’m moving around around around the thought of you
I’m yearning to slip and fall and crash into you

Would it bring you to me if I lost myself in endless sleep?
Would it help to fall captive to an empty dream?
Would you rescue me if I fell into obscurity?
Would you catch me just before I’ve fallen in too deep?

Would you rescue me if I fell into obscurity?
Would you catch me just before I’ve fallen in too deep?
In too deep
In too deep.

Palindrome

I’ve sat for an hour trying to write a poem. And it goes without saying – for it’s been already been said – that it just hasn’t come. Oh, I had one, ready to fly off my pen when I put it to paper – on week ago. Now I’ve got flickers of what it was, random words that were the structure of what it was supposed to be, but no poem. In one week, where did my poem go? In one week, how did so much change? Not in just one week only – in a day, an hour, a blink of an eye – when the change happened, even I do not know. How is it possible? Words want to put this experience in record, a memorial of some sort, but the experience itself defies expression.

I sit here alone. Surrounded by crowds, all going this way and that, on their business, and all I can think is of that over clichéd saying about the world and that one person. That one person who becomes your entire world. It is very scary. It’s the scariest feeling in the world – because you know once you let it happen, the second you lose them – that’s it. It. Poof. Bam. Ow.

Just thinking about it, it gives me shivers. Butterflies. Cold hands. I’m scared. I admit it. For all my bluster and bravado about love being nonsense, and marriage a sham, I confess ( I confess!) it’s only that – a sham of its own. Bluster and bravado. My shield of some sort. I don’t know. I guess you tend to want to, try to, need to, protect the very thing most close to heart. In my case, it’s exactly that – my heart.

I am scared. Because I know that if I let myself go, I will keep falling. I know, I know, I need to learn to bungee jump. And there I go again, my humour; what’s with that, right? Is it another self-constructed defence? I suppose, but then again, I do believe you’ve got to laugh at yourself first. It’s what I do. When I slip on ice and land on my glutes in public, yeah, I laugh! So do I take a page from my own book, and learn something? Fall, laugh? Fall, laugh!

No, I’m still scared. Maybe more than ever.

Tell me, does this love at first sight thing really happen? I believe in it. But believing in something, and it occurring to you, they’re really different things. When it happens if?) you go, “Wow.”, you go, “Whoa.”, you might go, “Watda?!” Well, I believe in it, but what I want to know is, how do you KNOW? Seriously, not fooling yourself into believing it’s what you wish it would be- how do you know? That’s the scary part.

Now, you’re going to want to know why I believe in such a thing, right. I may as well believe in Santa Clause, right? (Well, for your information, I do. Ha!). Ok. Love at first sight. Not infatuation, not lust, not eye candy. Love at first sight. Why? Because I do. Why do I do? Because, simply, I believe in soulmates. I do! I’ve wrote about this before. I believe someone has got that missing part of you out there, the muniute you meet, you feel something. Like a piece that’s clicked back in place. And you sort of don’t know why. It’s just one of those things that are beyond reason. You might know why. You might know sooner or later. But the feeling itself, damn, beyond explanation. The hard part is knowing for sure. Because you’re going to have been wrong that many times before.

I guess I've just got to find out.                   

Frost

Hello World!


(suhaniiiiiiiiiiiiii suhaniiiiiiiiiiiiiii suhaniiiiiiii )


I had planned to blog on the first of the month, welcome special little November in with open arms with my usual spiel. Got busy, and sidetracked, if you could call it that (as blogging is usually my way off the path, right).

Well, it's the third. Not too late, can't be too late to let one cherish something special na.

If I could have my way, I would be putting big smile smileys on the end of every line. Well, I do have my way, but I choose not to because I prefer writing as writing ought to be. Ah well!

Anyways, since the start of November, well the world has simply been GORGEOUS...in more ways than could possibly be described. Lack of sleep (kyun aajkal neend kam aur khwaab zyaada hai?) and food and all that stuff that gets put to the side in the face of more important things..regardless, the world remains just so beautiful!!

When it hits you, when the sun shines all that much brighter after a long time of gray skies, well you feel its just so much WORTH it, somehow, to have suffered, to know the blessed feeling of ..the sunshine.

The worst part is enjoying it, letting yourself really enjoy it, and then have it taken away .. I guess that's the fear that keeps us appreciating what we have today, and what keeps us holding back entirely..but why waste the time worrying about it, when you've got precious moments to cherish it and smile for today.

That said, I have got to get back on that so called welltread path and get some more work done! BOOHOO but its almost at the end.. so will have some relief to look forward to.. ahh sleep and, yes yes, food


Everything looks so beautiful today ..more so, because of all the yesterdays we thought were not.


Nowww let the musiicc playy on suhaniiiiiiiiiii suhaniiiiiiiiiiii
suhaniiiiiiiiiiiiiiii suhaniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii suhaniiiiiiiii
the song that's been on my mind this past three days hehehe :Mausam suhana duniya bhi kitni suhaani
Kitne haseen yeh pal, dheere dheere chal..zindagaani
Manzil hai saathi mujhko sunaati kahaani
Ab na kabhi tu badal dheere dheere chal zindagani

Hai nayi aarzoo..raah guzar rubaru
Armaan jaage hai.. haule haule kahein
Yeh bahaar chalen, yunhi pyaar chalen
Dil ki maujon mein dekho nayi hai rawani
Kitne haseen yeh pal dheere dheere chal zindagaani

Mausam suhana duniya bhi kitni suhaani
Kitne haseen yeh pal dheere dheere chal zindagaani

Ek nasha chha gaya..tera naam aa gaya ..
Hothon pe mere puchha jo hawa ne,
Mere yaar bata.. tere dil ka pata
Jahaan base dil wohi hai duniya basani
Kitne haseen yeh pal dheere dheere chal zindagaani

Mausam suhana.. duniya bhi kitni suhaani
Kitne haseen yeh pal dheere dheere chal zindagaani

zindagaaanii
zindagaaaniiii
zindagaaagniiiiiiiiiiii

The Villain I Am.

I am so incredibly happy! I can't explain the feeling, the revelation behind being understood truly! This is by far the most accurate quiz on what type of villain I am, and the feeling it brings to me is such that I just have to share this joy.

SO TRUE!

You're the DARK AVENGER!
The Dark Avenger is emotionally dead, at least that's what she thinks. She used to be a normal, happy person, but then something tragical happened and she lost it. Now she seeks justice and hunts down those who wronged her, and doesn't let anything or anyone get in between her and her revenge. The thing is that even if the Dark Avenger got her revenge, she would probably still go on killing and destroying rampantly, because the tragedy that changed her life changed her soul for good. She avenges her tragedy over and over again to anyone, or anything. She tries to fill the empty gap in her heart with the blood she spills, knowing that it will never be enough.

Strengths: The Dark Avenger may be also physically strong and blessed with special powers, but her greatest assert is still her determination. She's ready to go as far it takes to get what she wants.

Weaknesses: Traumas and surpressed memories of the past. Reminding her of the pain that turned her into what she is, or the happiness she felt before it happened may distract her.

Famous Dark Avengers: O-Ren Ishii from Kill Bill, Carrie from Carrie, the ghost from the Grudge.

*
If you ever became a fictional villain, you'd be the Dark Avenger because you feel very angry inside,thinking that the world has hurt you badly, and sometimes you wish you could hurt the world back twice as bad just to let everyone know how you feel. To avoid this, just keep in mind that revenge is never the answer, because hurting others doesn't help you heal yourself, nor will it change the past. If you feel empty inside, filling yourself with hate will only make things first.



I'm not this evil, but if I were to be, this is pretty apt.

Rain

Naina lagiyan baarishan
Te sukke sukke sapne vi pijj gaye
Naina lagiyan baarishan
Rove palkan de kone vich neend meri
Naina lagiyan baarishan
Hanju digde ne chot lage dil te
Naina lagiyan baarishan
Rut birha de badlan di chhaa gayi

These lines are just amazing. Everytime I make myself not hear the song -- despite it being overplayed, as usual -- and I come back to it, the lyrics just take my breath away again.

It's just so amazing to come to terms with the fact that everything we experience is already been experienced that many times over. We feel that living it, feeling it, loving, hurting, pain, all of those things we meet with face on is some part of what makes us unique, what makes us distinct. We have to come to realize that we are not. We aren't. We don't want to be just anyone, another number. But what makes us different.

What makes our pain anything more special?



I found that we might prefer to hold on to our pain because it stimulates a purpose within. To attempt to even eradicate this pain may be akin to losing ourself, our sense of identity. I don't know what it is, but even continuance with that pain lessens the pain itself. It's so hard to let go of it, but it somehow cures it of itself. For, that pain that has been felt changes the pain itself, it changes the love itself, and beckons the question whether if that love has changed, can it then persevere? How can you reconcile this love that has been blurred back to the distinct image you once had. I don't know. I don't have the answers. If I did, I guess I wouldn't have asked them.

Maybe.

I just know that I ask myself why I pass this time in this occupation when there is much of the world I could dedicate this energy to.

It doesn't have to end in love really, does it? I mean, just because I don't get a happy ending does not mean that I can't make one for the world, for others, right?

Sometimes, you just have to bear the pain; when it hurts the most -- like cutting off a part of yourself that has become diseased -- you just have to grit your teeth together, hold your head high, face to the sky, breath in the oxygen, and it would almost look as if you were smiling.

For You ~

You Have To Stay Strong
Have you ever felt like all hope is lost?
Being so desperate,
No matter the cost?

Then listen now,
To what I have to say,
It'll give you hope,
And might change your life today.

Look back and remember,
All the good memories forever.
Think about the people you care,
And the happy moments that you've shared.

You have to stay strong,
And give life another chance,
Know that your needed,
It could be your only defence.

Always remember that,
When things go wrong,
It's not the end of the world,
You have to stay strong.


haha I know I sound a bit hypo, but what can I say? It usually takes me a down to find a way back up - and it isn't just the being up again that is important, it's what I've learnt on the journey (yes, I know you know this as well but I just have to say it, for it to be said ). It's a shaky stage, and when you're finding a way back into the light, you almost feel the layers shedding, you feel the change -- inside and out. It hurts too, can't deny that. It hurts because you have to let go of those layers that have kept you safe for so long. But it's time to become reafreshened. I know that isn't a word, but it suits na. I can't even point out what it was that made me feel this way this morning. In fact, I am not even sure I will go back into my blanket of fallen layers in search of missing parts that don't feel so good without. Can't guarantee anything na But I can guarantee that here I am for you, despite however alone you feel now and then. Can't be there for every minute you know, but then again, that's what makes being there for you through it all all the more important, nay- special.

Sometimes, you've been protected from so much in life. And funniest thing you learn is that those who have been worried for you the most, those who seemed to care the most, who wanted you to be safe from being hurt the most, they're the ones who pull the tableclothe away and make it all break- inside. And hey, what else could hurt the most than that, right? Maybe that's why it does hurt. Because they had such a special place, and they let that go, apparently without a care.

In any case, all we can do is let them go too. In the end we all join the light alone na? Without anyone else's help too. Can you imagine that. WHOA haha

So stay strong my friend, I will for you, and you will for me. Because in the end, it's us. No matter what.

This is the song that's making me feel like just staying face up in the hawa and sunshine that's shining down on me like a song by itself.



Bulla kahe tuu kucch bhi nahin
Main bhi kahoon main kucch bhi nahin
Naa des mera;Naa mitti meri
Main hoon banjaara
Meri hi zameen pe
Main kaun hoon... Main kaun hoon
Kyon apne jahaan me
Main hoon ajnabee

Naa jaane kyon aisa ho gaya
Begaani hui apni jagah
Naa jaane kyon apni hi taraf

Utttee hain sabhi ki ungliyaan
Ab toh yakeen khud pe bhi nahin
Anjaana hain har lamhaa yahaan
Nazre churaaye aankhein jhukaaye
Kab tak jeeye hum is tarah
Kaisi khata thi jo yeh sazaa di
Humko kahin ka naa rakhaa

Jannat thi apni sarzamee
Sufi humko kehte sabhi
Ab toh koi mujrim koi aatanki keh rahaa
Main kaun hoon... Main kaun hoon

Kyon apne jahaan me
Main hoon ajnabee

Chehre to sabke hain haseen
Par dil main hain bas aag hi
Bujhti nahiin jo jal rahi
Jo pooche baarhaan

Main kaun hoon... Main kaun hoon
Kyon apne jahaan me
Main hoon ajnabee

Courage

So I did this personality analysis thing at this Japanese Happy Science (buddhist) booth awhile ago. You answer one question, your choice leads you to another question, which leads to another depending on your answer, etc. The first question was which animal appeals to me most, and my answer was a white magical flying horse. So, eventually you get a final output on your personality type.

This is me.

6.Artistic and big-hearted guardian spirit with a great sense of harmony. Your guardian spirit loves arts, music, and nature equally. Those guided by this type of spirit have an evolved aestethic sense and exhibit their individuality in their home and fashion. This spirit craves freedom and will not be tired down in organizations. You emphasize harmony and do not like fighting. You are aloof and easygoing and others may misunderstand you to be a strange person. The inspirational word form your guardian spirit is "courage". Vienna is an ideal desitnation if travel is in your plans.

Tere bagair tadpa karein
Tere bagair sapne rootha karein
Maana ke hai duniya haseen
Tere bagair duniya hum kya karein
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya

Tere bagair beraunaki
Tere bagair khushiyan, hum kya karein
Mausam sabhi hain dard ke
Tere bagair aur yeh tanha karein
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya

Dhoop pheeki lagey, din udaasi bhara
Shaam roothi lagey, haal yeh ho gaya
Jaagte hum rahein, karwaton se kahein
Khwaab hi woh koi dhoond laaye naya


Neendein meri bhaagi hui
Tere bagair raatein ab kya karein
O bekhabar, o bekadar
Tere bagair har pal bikhra karein
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya