Call my name,
Suffocating I am,
Can't breathe,
Can you hear me baby,
Its too dark out here
Can't sense your presence.
Call my name,
Shivering I am,
Pull me out,
Hold me tight,
Lie down beside me,
Wanna smell you.
Call my name,
Shouting I am,
Can you feel my pulse,
Can you read my tears,
Can you assure me,
O! Will you say you'll never go,
Your lie becomes my life.
Call my name,
Freezing I am,
Be my fire,
Stand near,
Touch my heart,
Oh ! let me breath you in
Call my name, my love
O !, why don't you call my name
Just Call my name
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Sinking Sand
This post is intended to be an answer to the following :
http://chetan-ideas.blogspot.com/2010/09/sinking-sand.html
http://chetan-ideas.blogspot.com/2010/09/sinking-sand.html
The sand is sinking,
The sinking sand is sinking,
You sink with the sinking sand,
I give my hand and I sink with you in the sinking sand
I try to pull you towards land
And you push yourself into the sinking sand
You call out no one, you stand on the sinking sand
You look for no hand, you breathe in the sinking sand
You pull me towards the sinking sand
This sinking sand is in you, It is You
You are your own sinking sand
You pull me and I become my sinking sand
I try and try to pull, but the sand is sinking
It pushes me further in
You stand there and watch me sinking
The sinking sand is sinking,
You sink with the sinking sand,
I give my hand and I sink with you in the sinking sand
I try to pull you towards land
And you push yourself into the sinking sand
You call out no one, you stand on the sinking sand
You look for no hand, you breathe in the sinking sand
You pull me towards the sinking sand
This sinking sand is in you, It is You
You are your own sinking sand
You pull me and I become my sinking sand
I try and try to pull, but the sand is sinking
It pushes me further in
You stand there and watch me sinking
You sink with me in your sinking sand
The sinking sand engulfs me
The sinking sand engulfs you
The sinking sand engulfs me
The sinking sand engulfs you
The sand is sinking everywhere
There is no land, there is no water
Its only a mirage
It has always been an oasis
The sinking sand sinks us
Its only a mirage
It has always been an oasis
The sinking sand sinks us
We sink in our sinking sand.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Time
Time flows,
Time travels,
Time doesn't rest under a tree,
Time doesn't stop to relish a beautiful morning,
Time doesn't question you as to why you don't pay heed to it,
Time asks for no answers
Yet its presence is felt again and again,
You smile with a happy time and cry at a sad one,
You ask it to relive itself,
All this in vain.
Time has its own course to follow
It has been same for everyone since ages..
Either you walk beside it or behind it.
But a life lived is one where time has to catch you, it watches you.
Time travels,
Time doesn't rest under a tree,
Time doesn't stop to relish a beautiful morning,
Time doesn't question you as to why you don't pay heed to it,
Time asks for no answers
Yet its presence is felt again and again,
You smile with a happy time and cry at a sad one,
You ask it to relive itself,
All this in vain.
Time has its own course to follow
It has been same for everyone since ages..
Either you walk beside it or behind it.
But a life lived is one where time has to catch you, it watches you.
Retreat: as an emotion
Narrating an incident or telling a story will not change the manner in which a person retreats. One just retreats, takes a step back. This act assures him that his emotions are safer now, he has efficiently guarded them. He can now relax in his comfortable armchair and be at peace. The chapter is closed.
But is this how emotions are actually guarded? Are we ever able to come out of those feelings? Does the fear of being hurt ever dies?
“Only a man who explores the depth of his emotions can come out of them”, very true. This further implies that a man who guards them will always find them lingering inside him. They will resurface time and again whenever you try to loose yourself even a bit. This act will naturally make you retreat again and then it becomes a non-terminating process. You are now totally engulfed by the power of retreat (an emotion) and it is swallowing your ability to “live in the emotion for the moment.”
Now the next question “should we never retreat”. The answer, ideally “YES”, practically “NO”. So where to draw the line? Who are ones we should retreat from? When should we retreat?
Let me try to reach to a conclusion.
Who do we actually retreat from? The ones we care for the most, and to be more precise are afraid of losing the most. Losing becomes important because we generally don’t retreat in front of our parents, quite possible we do not love them the most, but definitely we are sure of never losing them, so we never retreat. Definitely in cases, where you love them too much you find yourself retreating as well.
How capable are these our very own loved ones of hurting us? To a great Extent. Any action of theirs which is not in sync with our expectations hurt us. Even a burp of theirs, which we didn’t want hurts. So the idea is to communicate. But communicating emotions is very difficult. To give right words to the thoughts is a Herculean task. But we still have asymptotes.
Once the problem is conveyed, the next step is to understand or analyze the solution. You can have your buts and ifs, but discussion can probably bring it to a conclusive and more agreeable end.
Moving ahead like this will form a history of a number of cases and a repetition of a particular case a number of times and more than one particular case a number of times is where we might draw the line. Also, there can be some misaligned cases, where you have the choice. Explore and experiment what works best. Arriving at a conclusion without exploring will bring us back to where we started.
All in all, make life easier to live, more simple to understand and more convenient to tackle. “Why are you afraid of questioning, when you have nothing to loose?” So break free, loose yourself.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Salvation...
Aren't love and hate two very similar feelings, in terms of passion and craziness which drives it. In either case, one becomes blind. though in the former one it is towards the negativity and in the latter towards positivity.
Yet, the righteous path is defined as the middle path. May be because, this is the only way to keep one away from two ends of insanity.. love and hate.
For me , love is unconditional. I see my father's love for me. he might be sad, if I don't pay heed to his advice, but he is never angry. This is the closest I could feel unconditional love. People narrate their love stories and I never could feel the depth. I think, I have started to believe that it is humanly impossible to love unconditionally. To stay, entirely motivated and passionate in the long run becomes very difficult.
Hate is unexplored for me. I don't think I have the capacity to hate anybody. Yet, what happened at Godhra remains my bench mark for hatred and violence. The thing I hate most is when people advice me on stuff where there are no logics to justify. I find it very difficult to hear them out. i usually cut them in between. This is the utmost i could hate.
Irony, is that one just fails to understand that achieving any of the three states is very difficult.
From what I understand, both love and hate also bring you to the state of salvation or nirvana, similar to the righteous path.
This is why "Meera" could attain it and as well "Ashoka the Great" could.
Claiming, which is the easiest is irrelevant cause none is easy. One has to give entire life. And giving an entire life for one cause in itself is brain-storming, tedious and carries with itself lot of disturbances.
"Hope is a good thing, Probably one of the best things"..quoted Shawshank Redemption.
My hope .. I will achieve salvation. through which path don't know.
Yet, the righteous path is defined as the middle path. May be because, this is the only way to keep one away from two ends of insanity.. love and hate.
For me , love is unconditional. I see my father's love for me. he might be sad, if I don't pay heed to his advice, but he is never angry. This is the closest I could feel unconditional love. People narrate their love stories and I never could feel the depth. I think, I have started to believe that it is humanly impossible to love unconditionally. To stay, entirely motivated and passionate in the long run becomes very difficult.
Hate is unexplored for me. I don't think I have the capacity to hate anybody. Yet, what happened at Godhra remains my bench mark for hatred and violence. The thing I hate most is when people advice me on stuff where there are no logics to justify. I find it very difficult to hear them out. i usually cut them in between. This is the utmost i could hate.
Irony, is that one just fails to understand that achieving any of the three states is very difficult.
From what I understand, both love and hate also bring you to the state of salvation or nirvana, similar to the righteous path.
This is why "Meera" could attain it and as well "Ashoka the Great" could.
Claiming, which is the easiest is irrelevant cause none is easy. One has to give entire life. And giving an entire life for one cause in itself is brain-storming, tedious and carries with itself lot of disturbances.
"Hope is a good thing, Probably one of the best things"..quoted Shawshank Redemption.
My hope .. I will achieve salvation. through which path don't know.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Trip to Mathura
General Information:
Delhi-Mathura : 157 kms
Time taken by car : 2hrs 30 mins
There is a word called superstition in our English dictionary. Its dictionary meaning is "a belief in things which particularly bring good or bad luck". . Superstition is nothing else but faith whether true or false, we are not getting into that arena. This thought I will leave for some other post. So anyways, this word formed the reason behind my Mathura trip.
It is 4:15 a.m on April 12 and the three of my friends along with me are standing in front of my building looking out for the driver. Around 4:30 a.m we are all set inside the car and off to Mathura.With lot of hopes in our heads and a single minded faith in our heart, we just wanted to visit this holy city. No plans, just small back-packs, we all were in high spirits. It is always pleasant to see the rising sun specially when you haven't done that sometime soon. The sun wished us good morning in its own charismatic manner.
There is a sharp demarcation when you cross borders. I love seeing that and recognising those points of distinction.To mention a few, the first being the difference of the movement of traffic. When you are in a place like Delhi the traffic is highly regulated, but when you enter U.P it is just the opposite. The traffic in U.P is not regulatory at all barring Lucknow(the capital of U.P), courtesy politicians of U.P, they are only concerned with the development of its capital.
Second in my opinion is the style of speaking. Delhi citizens are less courtly than the public of U.P. You find them to be very free and ready to help you. They appear to be more at leisure. Delhi citizens are more occupied in their own life, which seems to be the story of every metro in India.
Thirdly, the culture which in U.P you find more grounded to our traditions. There are rare occasions when you get to see our traditional indian culture and what better places to find it than the country side. Delhi is more hep and happening at every hour while the countryside is more peaceful and calm.
When we reached Mathura it was only 7 o'clock. we were supposed to meet my roommate's brother at Dwarkadhish Mandir, which is the first one we visited. To my surprise it is located on the banks of river yamuna similar to the location of dashwamedh ghat mandir on the banks of river ganga. Such mandirs bring nothing but more pollution to the rivers and I felt sad at the site. Watching a river is the most peaceful thing I can ever think myself doing, but here what I was viewing is that loads and loads of sindoor, flowers, milk etc being poured into the river every minute. People calling themselves pandits were nothing but dhoorts of all varieties . Making money is their profession and they do this by disguising themselves as servants of lord. I dipped my leg into the river and the feeling was exhilarating. The cold river filled me completely with its poise and undemanding nature, but then, a so-called pandit came up to me asking me if I wanted to worship the yamuna and he will help me with that. if I agree to pay him Rs.11. Ah ! he had the wrong target. I got a chance to bring my anguish to an end and I fired such words at him which will not allow him to disturb me anymore. These people don't want to listen to you they are not interested in what you are saying they have a job and need to make money. The benefit I had was that such others will not disturb me any further.
We visited the rest of the mandirs beside the ghats. Every one had a pandit and they asked for dakshina. It was only one mandir on the way back from yamuna which struck me enough that I went inside and talked to an old lady sitting there. Dressed in a white sari, old and widowed, she was quietly sititng on the foots of the lord's statue behind. At one side was her gadda and I saw a fan was attached to the ceiling. She had a torch for her aid. I asked the lady what she did the whole day long there. She had been thrown out of her place and was content here. I didn't inquire in to the details but she was old and I touched her feet to ask for her blessings. She seemed happy.
Out of Dwarkadhish temple now, we headed towards Lord Krishna Janambhumi. I don't know the exact reason but there were troops and troops of rajasthani people visiting the city. Since it has already started being hot in Mathura I couldn't understand their reason. Then, a gentleman told me due to hot summers in rajasthan there is scarcity of work there and hence these people shift to U.P in search of work. The janambhumi was magnificent. Its special feature is that all the walls and pillars had paintings/sculptors of various incidents in our hindu mythology. I liked the place. Just behind the janambhumi is jama masjid which i couldn't visit because the security there does not easily permit you to do that once you have visited the janambhumi.
Just outside the janam bhumi there are various sweets and namkeen shops and they serve hot kachoris, samosas and jalebis. uummm yummy !! Mathura is famous for its kachoris and peras. Since it was already 11 a.m and by the time we would have reached Vrindavan , the temples there would be closed for the afternoon break, we moved towards Govardhan. Govardhan is the pahad which Lord Krishna picked on his smallest finger. there is belief in people that if you take the complete 21 kms parikrama(or whatever suits your health) your desires are fulfilled. My driver somehow managed to convince me into taking this daring step. I thought I'll do the small 5 kms parikrama but we somehow missed the short cut and landed up going around the bigger 12kms one. It was only after we had travelled 6 kms that we got to know about this. Well, whatever be his Mighty's intentions. The last few kms were very exhausting but we still did it with the help of water and constant doses of frooti, maaza, slice and lays(its dillogical). Thanks to these industries we made it through. We visited the Giriraj Mandir which is where you end the parikrama.
By this time my legs were hurting and burning. It was damn hot and I couldn't bare to even stand, already 5 o'clock, just wanted to have lunch. On the way to Vrindavan , we stopped at a dhaba and had lunch. Sadly enough but none of the dhabas near Mathura are good. Nowhere,could we find the original dhaba taste, the spicy dal fry and good tandorri rotis :(.
Vrindavan has an ambiance which makes you feel that this is thhe raas-leela nagri. Enetering into the Brij-Bihari Mandir it was awesome. The people are all so excited. I loved watching the crowd. We were already getitng late so couldn't spare much time there and stared our last phase of journey i.e returning back to Delhi.
All five of us tired and exhausted felt so relaxed inside the car, knowing nowhere to stop in between. Long drives is what I relish and they excite me. But the tiredness was too great to keep me wake. Partly in sleep and partly awake, we travelled back to Delhi and were inside our flat at 12 midnight. We had already got parathas and raita packed which formed our dinner and not later than 1:30 I was dozing.
I love surprises and travelling in a non-planned manner. This happened to be a memorable trip and I am happy to be a part of it.
Lastly, thanks to my roommate's brother, we visited Mathura.
P.S: I have some of the photographs clicked on the way to Mathura while the car is running at 90 kms/hr.
Delhi-Mathura : 157 kms
Time taken by car : 2hrs 30 mins
There is a word called superstition in our English dictionary. Its dictionary meaning is "a belief in things which particularly bring good or bad luck". . Superstition is nothing else but faith whether true or false, we are not getting into that arena. This thought I will leave for some other post. So anyways, this word formed the reason behind my Mathura trip.
It is 4:15 a.m on April 12 and the three of my friends along with me are standing in front of my building looking out for the driver. Around 4:30 a.m we are all set inside the car and off to Mathura.With lot of hopes in our heads and a single minded faith in our heart, we just wanted to visit this holy city. No plans, just small back-packs, we all were in high spirits. It is always pleasant to see the rising sun specially when you haven't done that sometime soon. The sun wished us good morning in its own charismatic manner.
There is a sharp demarcation when you cross borders. I love seeing that and recognising those points of distinction.To mention a few, the first being the difference of the movement of traffic. When you are in a place like Delhi the traffic is highly regulated, but when you enter U.P it is just the opposite. The traffic in U.P is not regulatory at all barring Lucknow(the capital of U.P), courtesy politicians of U.P, they are only concerned with the development of its capital.
Second in my opinion is the style of speaking. Delhi citizens are less courtly than the public of U.P. You find them to be very free and ready to help you. They appear to be more at leisure. Delhi citizens are more occupied in their own life, which seems to be the story of every metro in India.
Thirdly, the culture which in U.P you find more grounded to our traditions. There are rare occasions when you get to see our traditional indian culture and what better places to find it than the country side. Delhi is more hep and happening at every hour while the countryside is more peaceful and calm.
When we reached Mathura it was only 7 o'clock. we were supposed to meet my roommate's brother at Dwarkadhish Mandir, which is the first one we visited. To my surprise it is located on the banks of river yamuna similar to the location of dashwamedh ghat mandir on the banks of river ganga. Such mandirs bring nothing but more pollution to the rivers and I felt sad at the site. Watching a river is the most peaceful thing I can ever think myself doing, but here what I was viewing is that loads and loads of sindoor, flowers, milk etc being poured into the river every minute. People calling themselves pandits were nothing but dhoorts of all varieties . Making money is their profession and they do this by disguising themselves as servants of lord. I dipped my leg into the river and the feeling was exhilarating. The cold river filled me completely with its poise and undemanding nature, but then, a so-called pandit came up to me asking me if I wanted to worship the yamuna and he will help me with that. if I agree to pay him Rs.11. Ah ! he had the wrong target. I got a chance to bring my anguish to an end and I fired such words at him which will not allow him to disturb me anymore. These people don't want to listen to you they are not interested in what you are saying they have a job and need to make money. The benefit I had was that such others will not disturb me any further.
We visited the rest of the mandirs beside the ghats. Every one had a pandit and they asked for dakshina. It was only one mandir on the way back from yamuna which struck me enough that I went inside and talked to an old lady sitting there. Dressed in a white sari, old and widowed, she was quietly sititng on the foots of the lord's statue behind. At one side was her gadda and I saw a fan was attached to the ceiling. She had a torch for her aid. I asked the lady what she did the whole day long there. She had been thrown out of her place and was content here. I didn't inquire in to the details but she was old and I touched her feet to ask for her blessings. She seemed happy.
Out of Dwarkadhish temple now, we headed towards Lord Krishna Janambhumi. I don't know the exact reason but there were troops and troops of rajasthani people visiting the city. Since it has already started being hot in Mathura I couldn't understand their reason. Then, a gentleman told me due to hot summers in rajasthan there is scarcity of work there and hence these people shift to U.P in search of work. The janambhumi was magnificent. Its special feature is that all the walls and pillars had paintings/sculptors of various incidents in our hindu mythology. I liked the place. Just behind the janambhumi is jama masjid which i couldn't visit because the security there does not easily permit you to do that once you have visited the janambhumi.
Just outside the janam bhumi there are various sweets and namkeen shops and they serve hot kachoris, samosas and jalebis. uummm yummy !! Mathura is famous for its kachoris and peras. Since it was already 11 a.m and by the time we would have reached Vrindavan , the temples there would be closed for the afternoon break, we moved towards Govardhan. Govardhan is the pahad which Lord Krishna picked on his smallest finger. there is belief in people that if you take the complete 21 kms parikrama(or whatever suits your health) your desires are fulfilled. My driver somehow managed to convince me into taking this daring step. I thought I'll do the small 5 kms parikrama but we somehow missed the short cut and landed up going around the bigger 12kms one. It was only after we had travelled 6 kms that we got to know about this. Well, whatever be his Mighty's intentions. The last few kms were very exhausting but we still did it with the help of water and constant doses of frooti, maaza, slice and lays(its dillogical). Thanks to these industries we made it through. We visited the Giriraj Mandir which is where you end the parikrama.
By this time my legs were hurting and burning. It was damn hot and I couldn't bare to even stand, already 5 o'clock, just wanted to have lunch. On the way to Vrindavan , we stopped at a dhaba and had lunch. Sadly enough but none of the dhabas near Mathura are good. Nowhere,could we find the original dhaba taste, the spicy dal fry and good tandorri rotis :(.
Vrindavan has an ambiance which makes you feel that this is thhe raas-leela nagri. Enetering into the Brij-Bihari Mandir it was awesome. The people are all so excited. I loved watching the crowd. We were already getitng late so couldn't spare much time there and stared our last phase of journey i.e returning back to Delhi.
All five of us tired and exhausted felt so relaxed inside the car, knowing nowhere to stop in between. Long drives is what I relish and they excite me. But the tiredness was too great to keep me wake. Partly in sleep and partly awake, we travelled back to Delhi and were inside our flat at 12 midnight. We had already got parathas and raita packed which formed our dinner and not later than 1:30 I was dozing.
I love surprises and travelling in a non-planned manner. This happened to be a memorable trip and I am happy to be a part of it.
Lastly, thanks to my roommate's brother, we visited Mathura.
P.S: I have some of the photographs clicked on the way to Mathura while the car is running at 90 kms/hr.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Comfortably Numb
For few months now I am being constantly terrorised by my nightmares.They seem to haunt me whenever they find me in gay spirits. Each time I contemplate the reason for their appearance, but to no avail. Few days back i had them again, just the scenario changes but the problem remains the same. And finally I have come to this conclusion, this dream is nothing but an indication of my own life. The place keeps changing , I meet different people but the problem never changes and I am still running away from it. But what if I really don't want to find an answer to this. Is it not justified and okay to not know the answers of questions which will actually (in your opinion) change your life? Why is it always so difficult to live in your own way and on your own terms and beliefs? I believe everyone should live on his own norms and ideologies.
We are all so much crowded with relations and socialism and the moral drama. It is flowing everywhere around us. I hate to be surrounded by such people. Living free is what the talk in the air is about. But when it comes to living free, you pull yourself into restrictions , obligations and societal pressures. Nobody is happy seeing that you don't care. They simply want you to care. What if i don't give a damn.
When will we stop leading a life of moral obligations and instead work towards ideas and solutions and freedom. I just want to reach a stage where I am numb, comfortably numb. The pressure drives me crazy, the people make me go mad. Every passing minute seems to deny me the ounce of my own intellect.
I say this to myself, let me be my own and reach myself.
We are all so much crowded with relations and socialism and the moral drama. It is flowing everywhere around us. I hate to be surrounded by such people. Living free is what the talk in the air is about. But when it comes to living free, you pull yourself into restrictions , obligations and societal pressures. Nobody is happy seeing that you don't care. They simply want you to care. What if i don't give a damn.
When will we stop leading a life of moral obligations and instead work towards ideas and solutions and freedom. I just want to reach a stage where I am numb, comfortably numb. The pressure drives me crazy, the people make me go mad. Every passing minute seems to deny me the ounce of my own intellect.
I say this to myself, let me be my own and reach myself.
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