Perspectives and perceptions

Context: I saw Gully Boy yesterday. And I've been listening to the sound track pretty much on loop since morning today. I was on a flight from Hong Kong to Beijing this morning when suddenly inspiration struck... After many many days, I suddenly feel this urge to write, To think, to feel, to just get it out. Feels weird to hold a pen again. The grip is off. The speed is gone. There is a flow but I don't really know. A part of me is sad inside, A bit rushed and maybe mad too. I feel like I'm letting life happen to me, Work is sweeping me away, Conversations with friends & family are whiling time away, There doesn't seem to be a plan, a clear goal or even a dream. Work is getting hectic and I'm scared inside, of being swept away by the tide. There is noise, there is smoke, and I'm kind of afloat. I wish I could take the reins in my hand, chart my course and have a plan. I can't figure what has changed or even what is missing, all I

of random things and conversations, I sit and think and smile, of close friends, loved ones and relatives, I miss and muse and write, i wake up each morning with the rising sun, I go to sleep with the wind in my hair, I plan and think and dream about, loads of things in places in my head, random words, random thoughts, have they any meaning? how does one know what's it about? if one doesn't have any feelings? am I a fool I think? just because i love smiles, just because I love love, and just because my love is mine? these words have no structure, they have no rhyme... but they make a weird sort of a sense in my head and even if they didn't, I really wouldn't worry a dime! it's been long since I wrote random things, it's been a while since I just let go, every now and then I come around, only to realize that this is who I'm happiest being! these thoughts do have a source, a conversation with friends about a place, a place that has stripped away my inhibitions

I just saw "Dead Poets Society" yesterday. And I fell in love with Ulysses - the poem written by Lord Alfred Tennyson. Reproducing the entire text here! :) Ulysses It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard and sleep, and feed, and know not me. I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vext the dim sea: I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known; cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honor'd of them all; And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro&#

the hot summer breeze, the sweaty, rusty bodies, the dirt filled roads, and the brown sheath all over, the pregnant wait for respite, the thirst for the flow, much like a mother's anticipation, the weather toils us hard, the small silly poems that we learn, the enforced joy that we never feel, for the weather that doesn't change in spite of our many pleas, the two months that we long for, quickly turn into boredom, and suddenly we long to be, amongst the concrete breeze, the play, the trips and the wait, passes by like a glimpse, and soon we are shopping, for umbrellas, boots and more, come the first grey cloud, and expectant eyes scan the sky, from the old to the new, everyone stakes their buy, soon enough we hear the sound, the rumble of the clouds, and pit-pat comes the drop, dripping on the grounds, running astray are many children, few of whom are afraid, most of them leap with joy, for the rains are finally here to stay, soon enough the sheath, turns to green from the bro

Reading a book filled with some amazing images, I fight back tears, Hunched up in a corner, subtly caressing those pages, I mildly shiver, Imagining the life that she must've led, Reading about the crusades that she fought against the press, I wonder how the fairy tale must've unfolded, For all we say is the train that trailed... Born a Spencer, died the Princess Diana, Having lived her life on her own terms, Touching patients, kids, and lives, She gladdened many-a-heart, So many memories captured and treasured, That we stay in awe of her, So many people whose lives she touched, Remember and cherish the beauty in her, The world saw what they had wanted to see, A family saga, with moments of glee, Few saw her for who she really was, A warm-hearted, loving, caring woman, With a passion to swim and dance, She not only brought attention to the plight of many, She called for changes in the lives of many, Fighting for causes of landmines and HIV/AIDS, She was a symbol of hope till he

the ups and downs, the lull after the storm, the wave tha recalcitrates, only to unleash again... the building up tension, and the mounting desire, the subsided understanding, the silent wait... the knowing of the present, the acceptance of the time, the wait to steer the sail, in sight of the wind's tail.. each moment, each day, brings back every second, all those times that went by, and all the times that we will...

[A journey of words through the times that I’ve spent in this institution, from AMAG and then BMS, making many friends, to finding a person that I am, an individual, proud to be.] Five years, it’s been five years since a curious, shy girl that was me entered the premises of this building for the first time. Everything was for a first time, each step an achievement. The moments move past me in a blur, a rapid sequence of still shots, moments of, jumping into the train for the first time, running down the corridors, voicing those opinions, etching those first words, growing up within these walls, only to learn how to fly, how to rise beyond the limits and blossom in the blue sky. A period of time enmeshed with emotions and filled with events, from friendships to crushes, from authority to responsibility, from the unknown to the widely known, from J.C. to T.Y., a journey in which I have grown. A quest for realization, a journey of knowledge, experiencing everything, the emotions, and

As I stand before you today, Birds of a kind; together, Ruffling our wings, In anticipation of flight, The moments that we’ve shared, The times that we’ve spent, All making us, who we are, To realize the finality of it all, To stand alone, To stand tall, We take our first step, Into the horizons beyond, And face the world that is, Beckoning for us to belong, We wait, we think, we decide, And raise our hands up in the sky, And take off into the wind, Only to rise, only to win, Struggles and hardships we will face, But what’s success without that pain, We will win, we will fly, Our dreams and aspirations in the sky

the mere thought of it makes me smile, the transition of my fears now nowhere in sight, what makes people fear a test, that you don't have what it takes to clear the rest? or is it the same like being asked a question, being shaken out of the world of fiction, being asked to reason out your feelings, being asked to have justifications, the numbers that seemed so incongrous, the words that seemed to escape my conscious, are now like drops in the ocean, the one i steer with my emotions, the intent and passion that i previously felt, is now more of compulsion for myself, the excitement of wanting to state my point of view, is merging into the seas of views, trying to mould an answer like it should be, is like asking your mind to think differently, not innovative or even creative, but restricted and unnecessarily extended, it's a game that i used to play very well, but this time i don't think i will gel, i've had my way, i've taken my time, i've done what i wanted a

Lying cooped up inside the house, Thoughts running in my head, With arguments and words being thrown about, All they want to do is scream and shout, It’s not about what they say per se, It’s about the way they say it, The anger, the frustration, targeted more at themselves, And vented at the other, What makes it so bad, I wonder, The connections, the reasons, the love, How do they all disappear? Or were they never there? It’s more to do with the state of minds, A word-play that no one understands, The contexts that give meaning to the word, Left unsaid in the hope of being understood, False is that hope, For rarely is the unsaid heard, The frustration only mounts, Until it all bursts, Amidst this routine, Stark realizations are found, For it is the things that are not, Which we wish were abound, Each night passes, and a new day begins, They’ve forgotten what happened, And anew they live, The memories that haunt me now, They’ve already moved on, And now I realize, that I too should go o

Under the Deep blue sky, I wondered why is it so high? The acme, the pinnacle, the horizon, the hope, Of something beyond me, making me rise Rise as high as the bird which chirps, I wonder what it sees, feels and if it can smile like me! Flapping its wings, away it flies unto new territories, Growing, moving, freely it transcends all my boundaries Mystical is this nature, Gave me a mind but nevertheless I wish, I had wings or just fins, The mind that imitates and attempts to recreate, the fins by ships and wings by flights, Yet never seems to touch the true heights! In the game of imitation and changing perspectives, It seems like humanity has lost its essence..... A struggle not to be who you are, but what someone else is, An eternal battle that will only lead to self destruction, What is the eternal truth, What is the real meaning of life, What is humanity all about Is this all what the mortals think about? Searching for the light, that brightens up every day, That belief that gets y

lying in bed thinking of you, silence came up and said "hello, I want peace", said he, and asked me if that's who he could be, I said nothing, just gave him a smile, acknowledging his desire as mine, the power to be, to live, to stay, to love while doing just that; to be, he spent a while and thought aloud, "why isn't there an awkward sound, when does someone feel uneasy, all this while I thought the reason was me, but now I see that it isn't true, for you are who you choose to be, I ain't pushing anyone around, so why should I worry about the crowd?" "merci", said he as he got around, lifted his chin and made no sound, out of his past, he arose, and embraced the now for all it was, and softly hummed the sounds of silence...

The four walls that create a space, engulfing, embracing the souls within, the emotion it takes to personalize, to create lovingly, aesthetically with grace, it is but a reflection of the deepest desires, of the personalities of the lives living within, the colours, textures, joy all emerging because of one singular belief; to live; to be, the light that plays with the cloths, the water that sparkles on the contours, the reflections that just tease you, the echos that the walls throw at you, a game, a spirit, a life, a mood, that space does it all, a personification, a manifestation, it's an expression of your life!

When it's time for bed, I'm feeling blue, the sombre sky just no clue, a lonely heart and a lonelier pain fills me through and through, In spite of my thoughts, that fill my day, when the clock chimes nine, nothing seems to rhyme, The rhythm's gone and so has the mood, the zest that I had just caught a flu! It seems unnatural and very weird, like thinking about a shepherd's beard, There's got to be something, a link that I'm missing, maybe it's love, or simply just a hug, The truth however, remains just the same, when it's time for bed, I get the bedtime blues! (Had written this way back in January, so it's not a reflection on what I'm feeling now, but more of retrospection of what I felt then!)

J’écrit avec un autre sentiment, Parce que j’écrit en français! Aprés un long temps, Je pensait dans cette langue, Quand j’ai retourné chez moi ce soir, J’ai vu la mÊme choses que je vois toujours, Mais, aujourd’hui c’était different! J’ai voulu ecrire mes sentiments, mes penses, Seulement parce que ça me fait trés heureux! La couleur de le ciel avec les arbes, La bleu avec la verte, Les expressions sur les visages de les gens en générale, Et je les vois, je pense, je réflechir and maintenant j’écrire! Le temps passe lentement, Comme il sait ce qu’il passe dans nous, Pendant la commute j’ai un sourire, Ma coeur était calme, Et j’ai retourné chez moi, Les 30 minutes ont passé comme un moment! Un moment de passion, amour, action, refléction..... (C’est plus façile d’écrire dans cette langue avec les mains! Il est trés difficile d’écrire français sur l’ordinateur!) Translation (it's hard to get the texture of t

You step into a space lush in greenery, at once you sense the calm, the noise fades out and so does the crowd, and you're left with you and your heart... the fluttering wings of the little flies, that fly in spirals rhythmically, the rustling leaves in tandem with the wind, almost flirtatious and teasing around, the soft gait of people's footsteps, and silence becomes a pleasant sound, unlike the pregnant tense atmosphere, here it's more like a soothing sound, you're thinking, feeling and expressing, when you realise that's all you ever needed, an assurance that you are you, and things are just meant to be...

A feeling of bliss evokes inside me, a sort of shifting, restless, nervous energy, much like a bird who flaps its wings, with a pounding heart in it to comfort... all this to prepare for a new flight, reborn and free from doubt and fear, exciting prospects all around, moving so fast it's all a blur, for once when you are in the air, it's you in your actual elements, and then all you've got to take you through, is the knowledge that you are finally you...

My first poem! (a cross-post from my older blog) Scrounging for topics high and low, At times I sit and stare out of my window, The nature is at its beautiful best, Making life like one big fest, A thousand thoughts flood my mind, So much so I become momentarily blind, It is amidst this chaos that I hear a calling, A calling from an inner voice who wants some reckoning, ‘I’ve been mute for far too long’ she says, It’s time for my constitutional right to be let, So I decided hearing my inner self wouldn’t be that bad, After all I can stand the pain even if it is just a tad, Although she started with stories happy and gay, I realized that the path is becoming grey, The world isn’t just black and white you know, Even through my gladness I could feel the sorrow blow, I don’t know when and I don’t know why, Staring at the clear blue sky, Listening to my inner voice’s cry, Made my eyes moisten and glow, For there was a tear glistening to show….