Ecstatic Failure

Think it over

Qeccehe

rock_26iin | 30 March, 2006 23:39



Qéccehe

Her dark, shining locks
Sent forth from Heaven above
Her soft foot fall mocks
The flight of a thousand doves

Her delicious beauty, as if
Cytherea had bequeathed her crown
Her intoxicating grace
Not matched by all the spirits in town

The ale of old tastes sweeter
With her as a companion at your side
The nectar of jasmines smells better
In the moonlit starry night-ride

An ageless enchantress is she
Ever smiling for as her life may be
Sorrow is not shown on a face
It is hidden within, not for other eyes to see

Yet o’er the mountains her laughter rings
And the nightingale shames to hear her sing
Seems the Almighty made one last
No other, ever in future or in past
Will sing or laugh the way she does
For the burden of beauty denies
What one truly loves

Her story is known only to folk of lore
Her sorrow is known only to her
Only she knows, the hardship she bore
Her wings cut, before she could soar

Yet o’er the mountains her laughter rings
Hiding the tidings of many a spring
Her face shows not the wear she endured
Or the scars, which never were cured
Ever smiling she still is seen
Trying to erase, what once had been

Older than the hills, she is said to be
Waiting for the spell to be broken
So she may dance on the valley free
For the long-dead fire, to awaken

Till then, she is bound to sing
And let her laughter ring
O’er mountains yonder
‘Til death may peace bring…

Emancipation

rock_26iin | 22 March, 2006 23:32

This quote is a personification of me:

"I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe."

It's from Frankenstein

It is how I feel deep inside, maybe there are other people who feel the same way, but I guess they form a minority. These are the people who have kept everything bottled up inside, who have kept their own lives so secret that even their closest friends are unsure of what they really think.

And today, I declare that I also belong to this category, I have kept my life completely secret. There are parts of it I do not remember myself; these are the parts that I have purposely blocked out of my consciousness, in order to forget. But I don't realize that in the process, I have blocked out my most prized possession, my memories.

Memory is something very uncanny, I wonder if animals also have it at the same level of complexity as us humans. It is something that can drive you to do things you thought impossible, just a 5 second memory can sometimes brighten up your entire day and leave you feeling elated. It is something so unique and something so forgotten as well.

Well, I think I have digressed about the merits of memory. I just want to tell all those people who keep everything bottled up inside, don't do it. i would like to write more about this but I simply don't have the tools and enough experiences to relate. I can only tell you not to do it.

As they say, keeping things bottled up inside, only makes them hurt more, they are not going to go away, they are going to keep nagging you, always. Don’t let that happen. And then there is the most degrading and hopeless feeling a person can have. Regret.

So, basically, I’m talking to those people who let everything stay hidden deep within themselves. I have been one of them and it is much better to be open and frank. It is a type of emancipation.

On a parting note:

Live, and love to do it.

An Exam Explained In One Line

rock_26iin | 13 March, 2006 19:39

I came. I saw. I fucked up. I left.

Following A Fragrance...

rock_26iin | 08 March, 2006 19:30

I am stuck nowhere. Actually, I don't think I am stuck, I just have nowhere else to go. Being stuck is not being able to go somehere else whereas with me, there is nowhere else to go and hence I am where I am.

There is something in the air, here, wherever here might be. A heady scent of something, rather someone. It smells familiar, but my nasal capabilities leave a lot to be desired for and hence I really can't comprehend who's or what's scent it is.

There is also an odd darkness. It is odd, because I only feel it is dark here. I have quite a lot of light which, by the way, is of no use as it isn't illuminating anything because there is nothing to illuminate. If light can't illuminate anything, does it mean it is dark? Confusing, yet...that scent again, heady and so, so familiar.

There is also a great sense of space here. Maybe, it is a consequence of nothing being here. Shocking again, the result of nothing being here gives a sense of so much being there. Weird, really weird, this place is. Absences define existences here.

And then it hits me, that scent can belong only to one person in the world. Only one person can send my heart fluttering that way and get the butterflies to do dazzling somersaults in my stomach like that. It has to be her scent, yes, it is her scent. Well, her absence defined my existence here, her walking this path, left me walking after her...

--------------------------------------------------

P.S. : I know this is a really weird post and I don't even know why I wrote it.

P.P.S. : Happy Woman's Day to all members of the fairer sex and what the hell, lets include the unfairer sex too, for the heck of it.

Perfection Vs. The Meaning Of Life Vs. The Tango

rock_26iin | 26 February, 2006 13:40

Me: you should hear her laugh sometime man. It’s just the most beautiful sound in the world. It’s the sweetest, most innocent thing you can hear. Her eyes, black, round beautiful, heck, I could write an entire verse on those eyes. And her hair, don’t talk about her hair, beautiful black locks sent from heaven. Her face, her lips, they’re just perfect - she’s just perfect.

Friend: You are mad re

Me: I know I am, no need to tell me. You know, I had a revelation last night at 2:00 AM, technically, thats this morning but anyway, you know the meaning of life, there is none. Life and everything you face in it, every obstacle, every disappointment and every triumph, that by itself is the meaning of life. You don't know what the end is, what your end is, you are not supposed to know. You are just supposed to enjoy the ride called life and whatever you make of it, whatever you understand from it, that by itself is the meaning of life

Friend: Should I call up Agra or would you prefer Erragada Mental Hospital?

Me: Abbe yaar, I'm telling you such awesome stuff and you also. Anyway, was watching Scent Of A Woman couple of days back. It just reaffirmed my faith in the theory of relativity. Theres an amazing tango in the movie, I even posted about the tango on my blog a couple of days ago and then there is the dialouge in which Al Pacino says, "If you get tangled up, just tango on". Apply this to life and you have your solution.

Friend(very unsure of how to handle a maniac): Ok, listen.....ummm....i have to go now, my mom just gave me a missed call, she probably needs me for something...just hang in there, ok?

Me: Sigh, ok, bye. Enjoy life and learn the tango too

Friend(all the more unsure): Yea, sure dude, whatever you say

And another friend lost to my utter nonsense...well, at least I found the meaning of life...and now I'm looking for a tango partner

Conflict

rock_26iin | 20 February, 2006 16:54

For the heck of it, I got a pic to add today, it's called Conflict. Amazing what you can do with free time and Paint.



I am at my eloquent worst right now, so I am unable to convey anything of what I want to say today. I don't know what to do, so I think I will not say anything more.
**Edit: Changed the font size before i get chastised by June again.

Og + Fare -> Tango

rock_26iin | 13 February, 2006 21:49

There are people and then there are other people. Right now, my inebriated state has disabled my neurons so hopelessly, that I can't really differentiate between these two, but anyway they exist. Umm....where was I?....Oh yeah, there are two types of people, one is called the male or for now, we shall name him Og. And then the other people called the females, for now, they shall be called Fare. Now, Og cannot do without Fare, while Fare, well as I don't belong to the Fare category, I don't know, but I think that Fare also need Og sometimes.

So, this Og and Fare, when they come together, well, things happen.....wheres my bottle? Ah, found it, anyway...where was I? Damn, I was right here, how am I in two places at once? Hell, I don't know what I'm saying now....ah, well coming back to the Fare + Og question, well, I really don't know what the question itself was, so I am pretty unsure I'll know the answer. Maybe the answer is 21, or maybe its 84, maybe there is no question and no answer, maybe they just are supposed to be added and then the stew boils.

Again, I don't know what I'm saying, (its the alcohol talking), anyway, well this Og I know, very good friend of mine, practically resides in my head, well, he likes this Fare, but can't get it out, 'cause he thinks that the Fare doesn't like him. Well, can't blame Fare, I don't like him either. And now he tells me, that the world is playing tricks on him, the radio is only playing songs that Fare likes. Now, don't judge him, he's just paranoid. Like me.

So, coming back to....to whatever I was saying (that sounds about right), I think all the Ogs and Fares should forget about the meaning of life and just do the tango. Lot less stressful and much more enjoyable...seriously...

My Live Effigy...Alight!

rock_26iin | 12 February, 2006 19:07

I gaze through the smoke and haze, wondering what is happening. The fumes, the drugged effect they have, and slowly, I realize that I am on fire. I am the one burning slowly, being frozen out of my existence by flames.

Yes, yes, I've had a major mental fuck up. I am making no sense when people talk to me, rather, when I talk to them or whatever. Nothing wants to make sense, it just wants to get more complicated and get me more entangled in this spiders web that is sometimes referred to as my life. I get disoriented at times, feel Friday is really Monday and Sunday will never come, and that time just stops and starts as if its got fits.

I feel that I am not supposed to understand what I feel. I'm looking at that flame, which was just up to my knees right now, looks like it just managed to get higher. Anyway, I'm still wondering what am I supposed to feel. Should I laugh the world in its face? Or should I say that I need to live more. Hey, the fire is getting furious now, it just reached above my belt.

The fire is there, but I feel frozen, I know that’s a total contradiction but still, I just don't understand what I'm saying sometimes and by sometimes, I mean, a lot of the time.

I'm sitting in the room and people switch off the lights and go away. I like the dark. It's a nice contrasting background to these golden-yellow flames. Wish I had a camera. Wish I had a lot of things...well, wishes sometimes come true, right?

Hope. Weird word. Never knew something that could sound so inspiring at times and so dreadful at others. The flame just reached my chest; I guess it is going to find my rib cage empty any way. My heart is not in me; it is not in what I do, it is only in what I think, rather, what I want to think, what I want to believe.

Funny, isn't it? Everyone wants to achieve something but with the minimum of toil, where is the sense of achievement then? What have you really achieved? Can it even be called an achievement then?

True honesty, it is not about being truthful to others, it is about being truthful to yourself. I know that sounds very lame and corny, but how many really understand the meaning of it? No one is really truthful to themselves, myself included. If a person is, he has no need whatsoever to even feel the slightest amount of guilt because he knows he was honest with what he did.

The flame just crossed my neck, it is engulfing my head, it has reached my nose, I can't breath, but I don't think I ever did. I don't think I ever felt everything I wanted to, I don't think I did everything I wanted to, I feel old already, I know I have my life in front of me, but I just hope I reach it in time, before this fire, which by the way, just reached my eyes, reaches my life too.

Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
I never really lived
But return to nevermore, I must.

Question 1

rock_26iin | 02 February, 2006 20:25

I am here. For what reason, for what purpose, I ask myself and the only reply I get is the din humming of the fan. The only thing that mattered to me, the only thing that still held me sane, walked away from me, never looking back, never once thinking of the way it crushed me. So, again I ask myself what purpose is my life? Do any of us even serve a purpose? I do not know the meaning of life but I do know that for a life to be meaningful it has to have a purpose, it has to have a sense of motion, motion towards achievement, achievement of happiness, achievement of your dreams, your aspirations. But when the dream itself walked away from you, what are you supposed to do? All right, agreed that the dream wasn’t realistic, it wasn’t acceptable, but then again, when have I ever cared for anything being acceptable?

Maybe, and I have very good reason to believe it, I am paranoid and taking myself too seriously but then again, the thought always crosses my mind, why? Why is it that my dream, my last link to sanity, my last source of hope, why does it always crush me so brutally? Every time I take a vow to become a happy-go-lucky person, I even manage to play him for sometime but then every time, each and every time, I end up coming back to the same thing, even though I know it can never be. Even though I know that it is now impossible for things to even become they way they were before all this happened, why do I always run back to those age-old memories, which like writing in the sand has just been swept away with the tide? I don’t understand it.

This part of my brain tells me to forget that dream, to move on, and I know that is the voice of rationality but this voice is drowned out by the scream of the other part of my brain, the part which says that I should still think about that dream, still think that it could happen, why? Am I being paranoid, am I just trying to live a lie? I think it is because I betrayed myself, I think I cheated not only myself but also my dream, I think it is best that I face the facts and tell the dream itself to face facts, that I say the truth and watch where life moves from there. Only, I need to travel nearly 470 miles to be able to do that.

Flickr Mania

rock_26iin | 27 January, 2006 16:02

Everybody else is doing it, so why can't I?



A Sound Project

Hope it makes sense

If Only I Could

rock_26iin | 22 January, 2006 01:25

If only I could say everything I wanted to
If only I could be everything I wish to
If only I can achieve everything I want to
If only I could believe everything I want to

The power of a thousand stars
I hold in my hands
Scars of several battles
I wear on my face

If only I could tell
The one person in the world
What that person is to me
If only I could tell her
She means the universe to me

Seasons, months, years
Are now only words left with me
They hold no meaning
The only thing I have is memory

Memory…

Memory of a time when things were simpler
Memory of a time when we were innocent
Memory of a time when we were each other's
Memory of a time I was in her arms

But this holds no value to her
That is what she leads me to believe
I know not what the truth is today
But I hope it is what I want to believe

The hour of truth shall arrive one day
It will be the opening of the gates
Will it be just another memory?
Or will it become my, no…our, fate??

If only I could…

The Dreamers Dance

rock_26iin | 12 January, 2006 00:39

The Dreamers' Dance

I enter this hall of grandeur
The walls are red and embroidered with gold
A delicate scent fills my nostrils
And for me, the red carpet is rolled

Sweet, soft music plays from somewhere
While I just stand with a dumbfounded stare
The ceiling is a hundred feet high
And from my lips, escapes a little sigh

Loneliness I feel
Nothing is real
Being alone is my fear
I need someone here

The arc lights sway like the wind
The are no people in the room
And then, she steps in,
Dressed in the black I'm wearing
And there is no need for people

I walk up to her and pull her closer
We stand face to face with each other
We start to dance to the sweet music
For the world, we no longer bother

A smile on our faces
Our path, the arc light traces
No one is here but we
There is no one we want to see

The room starts spinning with us
The depths within us rejoice
The music gets louder as if
Our innards were given a voice

The night moves on
But we don’t care
We are just lost
In each other’s stare
We have escaped
We are alone
We are at the place
We call our home

She rest her head on my shoulder
I silently, longingly, hold her
I tell her, “I love you”
She says, she does too

The night is not over; there is much to say
Tonight, I really want her to stay
She says she must soon leave
And I wake up from my dream

I walk out of my house
I see the clouds at my feet
I laugh at this space, and say
“Heaven is a funny place”

The Night Of Truth

rock_26iin | 01 January, 2006 00:28

I had no plans for new year's eve so I sat down in front of my computer, with a blank Word Document in front of me. My fingers, for reasons best known to them and my brain's sub-conscious started typing and this is what they came up with:

##################################################

He waited for her. He sat still but his insides felt as if they were ready to fall out of him. He knew it was Judgement Day, it had to be done now, there was no turning back today. He had already made all the arrangements. He knew that this was a fork in the road of his life and he had to make a choice, a choice he had delayed for nearly a decade – but no more.

Finally, she walked in and his eyes lit up. He got up immediately, greeted her with a peck on the cheek and escorted her to the table he was originally sitting at. It had a fantastic view of the ocean and the sky was filled with clouds of turmoil, Colombo nimbuses colliding with each other. That’s appropriate, he thought.

They settled down and he found it surprisingly easy to talk to her. He was always like that, apprehensive of meeting her and then just melting away into whatever she said whenever she started speaking. They ordered what they wanted and spoke a lot. He spoke open-heartedly; he decided it was time to.

After the bill was cleared and each of them had a cup of coffee placed before them he knew it was time. His heart beat like a Cesium atom in an atomic watch. “Listen, I called you here today to tell you something very important, very important to me at least. I don’t know what you will make of it but I think I have delayed it long enough and can no longer bear to do so. I promised myself that one day, I will tell you the entire truth and somehow, some part of my mind decided that today is supposed to be that day.”

She didn’t say anything and he felt as if he were in a dream, something was happening, he did not know what but everything was going surreal. He somehow found the power to continue, “Ever since we were young, when we played together, when we fought like maniacs, I loved you. I loved you like this insane person, and you never knew about it. I didn’t mind because I thought that I just felt it, that it wasn’t REAL love, it was just an overbearing affection but now, I have realized that wasn’t true.”

“Now you may get up, ask me never to talk to you again and leave, and I will honor that decision, or you may listen to the rest of what I have to say.” She rested her hands, which were under her chin till now, on the table in front of her and made no movement to get up. He waited and she uttered a very soft “Go on.” And so, he did.

“I have realized that I love you as much as I possibly can. It may be wrong for me to do so but honestly, I really don’t give a damn to what the world has to say. If you say yes I will fight any one I have to and I will protect you, this much I promise you. I promise you right here, right now that I will always love you and believe me, there is no one who can take your place, no one.”

“You remember that little game we played at your place, long time back, when I came over to stay. I remember it vividly, because for that brief amount of time in my life, you were mine, you were…actually mine. It is a memory I cherish to date and will continue to do so for the rest of my life. I repeat, no matter what answer you give me today, I will always love you so much and will wait for you.” A lump had formed in his throat and he found it difficult to continue.

She said, “Listen to me…” “Just a minute,” he interrupted her, “before you tell me how you feel, I need to tell you one more thing, just one more, in making your decision I want you to be as selfish as possible. Think about yourself, if your answer is yes, even then think it over, be sure that you can be happy with me because once you say yes, there is no turning back. And if you say no, I will still wait for you. Take your own time, I have waited nearly a decade, a couple of days more won’t make me a difference.”

She was silent for about a minute and he didn’t disturb her thoughts, he just looked at her, drinking in everything about her that he loved so much. Her long hair, the big, round eyes and that glow she had. He could sit like that for hours and would not get bored of it.

Then she spoke, “Listen to me,” and he held his breath, “what you have told me today, had made me realize that sub-consciously somewhere in my mind, I always knew all this. I always knew that you were in love with me. Although I was not…aware of it, I always found you looking after me, always giving me preference but never thought it as love.”

“I am sorry, if it hurts you but I am not so much in love with you. Yes, I do have feelings for you but not the sort you have for me.” He finally let his breath go. Both their eyes were sparkling with tears. He felt heavy in his chest but knew that it had to turn out one way or the other. And he finally knew how she felt.

“I’m sorry.” She said. “Don’t be” he said, “You did what you thought was right for you and I respect that. Someone once said that ‘Hope is a good thing, maybe even the best of things, and no good thing ever dies’ so I’m going to live in hope that you will one day come back and that will get me through the days. And I will live waiting for you.”

“Tomorrow, I’m going away, to Chile. I won’t be back for almost a year. We will have no contact for that much time.”

“Do you have to?” she said

“Yes, because here I will constantly be reminded of you and we will probably even get in each others way. I don’t want that to happen ‘cause that will be harder for both of us. I have just one last wish, I have always dreamt of waltzing with you. Can I have the pleasure of waltzing with you once?”

She agreed and they waltzed the night away, close to each other, trying to keep the memories which they knew would have to last for a year, perhaps longer.

In the morning when she got up, she found a small box at her table. Enclosed was a note, which read:


My dear

Although I don’t know the decision you will make while writing this note, I will know when you read this letter. I promise you, I will honor the decision you have taken. I have kept a small token of my love in this box, I hope you will wear it occasionally, for my sake.

Yours lovingly,
Me.



Inside the box, was a solitaire encrusted with a brilliant sapphire.

#################################################

Please tell me how it was. :) (although I know it makes no sense whatsoever.)

Monologues Of My Imagination

rock_26iin | 17 December, 2005 12:25

Hello, I'm back after a long time away from here. My mind was clinically dead for sometime and so I couldn't post here. Nah, I'm just lying, I don't think while posting so doesn't really make a difference does it?

Anywho, you know people think you are crazy or schezophrenic when people ion your head start talking. But today, I want to share with you what some of those people told me. And being my imagination, they had to do this in poetry

An artist's imagination
Our heavenly abode
His fantasies, our realities
His destiny, our road

His dreams, his fantasies
We live
Strength and belief to him
We give

He makes us
He loves us
He holds us
He breaks us

Beyond his reach
He knows they are
But dreams, he dreams
For his strength, they are

An artist's imagination
Our heavenly abode
His fantasies, his realities
His destiny, his road

Life Rolls On

rock_26iin | 03 November, 2005 23:45

Random thoughts on the eve of a festival, things that happened, many maybes, many memories, all that running through my mind while writing this piece. I know this one doesn't sound like me and is a very amateurish effort but it means more to me than usual..

Life Rolls On

Spinning wheels
Dancing trees
The fury haze
The mystic maze

Games we played
Secrets we shared
Nights we stayed
Tempers then flared

Where were we headed?
Where did we go?
Did we lose ourselves?
How did I let go?

Spinning wheels
Dancing trees
The winter's cold
We grew old

Unanswered questions
Riddles and puzzles
Words softly spoken
Promises made and..broken

Lost myself
Lost her
Lost the world
Lost my cure

Spinning wheels
Dancing trees
The nightingale's song
We..belonged

Never said goodbye
Never could
Maybe it is time
Maybe I should...
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