And Then...

6:30am...quite an odd hour..for a person living in hyderabad..to throw sleep aside and key in some nonsense on this blank page...which after few clicks gets into the blogs..and then..1 or 2 replies... i wonder sometimes, what are these blogs for...its like pulling out a page out of your scrap book,and pinning it up there..for the entire netizens to watch on ..read on..would it be too much to call it self-indulgence..i dont know..

i read strange blogs sometimes..pple write abt everything...well..thats what blogs are meant for actually..but what abt the masks we wear here..we can write a lot..but we dont..we write what we feel like..not what we ought to..bbut who cares...its all personal choice..still..more than blogs..i see strange masks sometimes..i dare not condemn that..because i wear masks myself..i dont know which mask i am wearing now..while i am keying this..i care not..

I have many masks --- for a day, for a night,< ?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

And evening for an instant delight.

Some for my people, some for the stranger,

Some for the guest and some for my companion.

Keeping varied masks under my eye,

I change disguises for every phase of my life.

All masks of mine bring with them,

Only small surprises, trivial smiles,

Impotent anger and some simple joys.

With them, I know,

I talk with my people, strangers,

I watch the stars and at times talk with the skies,

And lose myself in a throng of thoughts.

My days move from one mask to another,

And from the depths of disguise,

Some try to know me, while,

Others knowing, prefer me masked.

If at times I feel my identity lost,

I try to find myself looking along,

The moving mirrors of my life.

And I see lots of broken glass,

Here and there.

Of what use is seeking answers from a mirror?

That too