THE JEWEL in her NAME..... treasure it in thy grave...

You came into her life like the whoosh of the wand…
And you just lingered around like the tailing wizard…
Though now you are miles beyond her reach…
You still circle her life in your orbit…
It is a wishful thinking to let you go…
Coz she have no yearning for you anymore …
She may have said many silent prayers in your name…
To ward you off from the episodes she chose to model…
But you resonated louder with every word sparked…
She was helpless…
She was caught in the whirl of unjust sacrifice …
She was trying to be strong in these moments of despair…
Please don’t weaken her graved soul…
Let it slumber in the wildly soiled yard….
It ached her broken heart to outline your disappearing figure…
Let not fantasize your face withered from her memoir…
It cracked her down to break your image…
She didn’t have the artist left in her to remodel you…
So show a little mercy on this crumbled innocence…
And let the wind blow you away from her air…
She needs to breathe a stale air without your aura…
Lest for the troubled soul, shun your world for her…
Forbidden kingdom is the coffin she has been destined…
Be kind to the self-poisoned prisoner…
For her pleas for the time that outnumbers her reign…
Long before you can vow to face her fate…
She will be swallowed with pride of her seclusion …
Sweat your brow with her pearls…
Coz she no longer form the dew in the morn…
Hold out your hand in her company…
She may soothe you with her spiteful narration…
But she holds back to let you breathe out her name…
A name she never carried as her possession…
Though she may be the jewel in her NAME….
Price the jewel and let go of the soul....

CONVULATIONS.... drown deep....

Here and again…

I smoother my lines of fate and destiny…

It wretches thy heart to witness the inevitable agony…

Pooling her hazel eye with undoubted tears of nakedness…
She slowly gulps her long breath to cry out a whim…
A squall of warm air thrushes out of the feeble lungs…
And the face regains the posture of a calmed tempest…
Caught in the whirl of haplessness and frustration…
All she can hope for is a whip of social sacrifice…
Looking into the mirrored self,
She fails to recognize the face facing her…
The clear brow has been furrowed deep…
Deep with memoir that continue to haunt her…
Of lines curved yet narrating a straight story…
Every crease on her temple has a story to be told…
Thin story to be replaced for the short ugly troughs…
Uneven tales to be told for the lines that run mid-way…
Those thick grotesque wrinkles can be a novel narrative…
Everybody can read the story of her undulated lines…
But not everybody can study the undulated lines…
She does cares to take a look at her fragmented legend …
For she belonged to that legend: she is the reign of that time…
Reign… she was reined to stand for the time that opposed her…
Time… that surpassed her freedom for her desire to crave…
Crave… for a life that she should have been living…
Living… to the peak where she desired to be crowned…
Crown… not with jewels but with the value of a soul…
Soul…. That still slumbers in the wild….

DA STEPS DAT I TOOK...

it was the day which i would mind calling a great day... Sunday, the 25th april...

Being driven to the foothil of the BROGA was interestingly uneasy and anticipated particularly after my very early rise and shine at around 4:30am. Hastingly, I shoved myself into the back seat to wander off half-asleep. It was around 5:30am when my feet finally touched the ground in midst of a large crowd of early hikers. I was acompanied by 5 friends and a bag of apples and oranges and bottles of water on my hunched back. With tempted early chill, we slowly began tracing the steps that followed before us with torch light gazing on the ground like the floating moon. Halfway at my progress, I brushed myself against the numerous weeds and grasses that allied the track. Tall poplar trees interespered with the grasses, at times supporting the weak body that was being thrushed forward with every deep step. The climb became steeper with the slanting hill and I could hear the breeze flowing between my damp hair. The journey to the first hill was easy and smooth with my breath still intact. The little town lay still asleep in the early hours with the street lights torched high. As i turned around, I could see the two hills that I need to conquer. Quickly I unpaked my bag and all of us churned in for some light breakfast of bread and tuna along with the fruits that I had burdened to carry. hmmm how can I forget the photo session. It was the time for the actors to fall for the stage... hehehhe...

we stil had two more hills to conquer but we thought it was wise enough to witness the sunrise  from the first hill and then move forward. Before long, the cloud started to move apart and the sky began filling itself with shades of blue giving way to the glow of the sun. the view was spectacular as I followed the eye of the sun. As the heat gained momentum, the flashes became more evident and so the people now seem to be transperant... and full of life as the activity resumes.
the perch on the next hill was short and nice. It was a diferent feeling to be following the monkey steps in climbing the great rock and view the world in my vicinity....  The heat flashed high on the brow of everybody to feel its intensity. well, the crowd started gaining popularty so we made a quick move to thin it out. so, we began reversing our steps... everybody knows, the journey downhill is as consistent as the sleep... so there we go with the jumping steps and flowing sweats.... and the longing for the nice cosy sleep....

P.S.  my eyelids refuses to slid open... cant help dreaming the dream of reality...

RISKIN OUT DA RISK.... ma words r @ risk,,,

i knew of the dozen things that i wanted to say...
infact i was at the edge of expelation... when i was held aback....
it was not the words that i was about to utter that made the setback...
it was the compilation that was not just right...
anybody can say anything  but not anybody can say something worth saying..
i guess i am grasping what i am implying...
omg,,,, this is way too odd....
it aint dat m losing da strength to release the chain...
its the moment that i am scared of holding on.....

c'mon my friend, why cant you shoulder my smoulder...
its a simple word... words that should be uttered...
you are not friended when you turn your back....
not all angle of your are beautified...
you must know it..
now as i said it..,

P.S.... U R wat U R n U accept it....

Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark......

m reasonin 4 da lite dat crushed da darkness...
da claustrophobic livin was stil @ its mite..
dormancy was da prime activty of da hour...
beneath those dark  hours...
lay da prine, close 2 dawn...
glow out rite!!!!!!
shine in bright...
coz i wil not outshine da twinkle..
dat wil form in da wake of da hour...
respondin 2 ma reason is not a necessity...
so i hide in the shade of da sun-rays!!!!

RE-kindle da blushin flame....

They say:
light da candle instead of cursin da darkness...
... how far can u curse da dark..
.... how long will it take to light a candle...
.... a candle can light up the dark....
... will the candle last till da end....
... or will da darkness end before da candle melts down...
.... thats da obscurity of life...
... long before the dawn breaks down the horizon..
... da dusk wil mystify the mirage...
m not tired of counting the flames dat burned down with wax,
but i feel nauseated when i think of the melts that i have to count...
Say that, its not easy to wipe clean the blackened noses...
but it takes a heavy heave to whiten the ashen wicks...
...it dies giving away its light....
.... is that sacrifice???????
... or is it relinquishment??????
...somebody did whisper at my face....
... you live like a candle in the wind....
.... now i m helpless to rekindle that somebody ...
.... just like the flame that glowed and de-glowed....


P.S: a candle in the wind will wicker and survive...

WEN IT DROPPED, IT TICKLED IT WAY DOWN.... deep down nowhere...

It olwez takes da minutes out of da hour to bring back memories..............
memoirs..... dat stil floats infront of my eyes... n da oder ones dat is stil piercin da wounded self....
it staggers stil 2 kno da hard truth....
the truth dat lay underneath da layers of glazin blaze...
i hate 2 reckon 2 it but m adamnat 2 fight it back...

when it rained..... it poured.....

Tonight I can write the saddest of all lines…

You have gone far from me yet I feel so near to you…
You gave me your words and you stole them again…
Long before I had it treasured…
Like me a treasure; you treasured me.
Onto your string for warmth; I clanged
Inadvertently; which you had to abandon…
A trail lay before me: so I tip-toed…

But the limping steps:

How long do you expect it to stay on foot?

How far can you see it limping: how so far?

The lonely half footprint of the limp; reckon it!
You chance to leave my world so cold… Is it fate?
Naïve in the hands of nobody: know not whom to plead…
I gulp the truth deep down; you were helpless intact…
Holding my hand for so long: how could you just let it go?
Am I treading on the flipside of happiness?

You didn’t go far to cease my living; I know

But life had come to a halt long before I ebb inside me…

It was evident in your eyes: through my eyes…

Did you not read your own drop of tears???

You were far than late, when the stream flowed…

Don’t ask me why? Coz you know…

“Smooth flow the stream when the brook is deep”…

Tears are not shed anymore: I solidified them…

A rush though all these years; it was still set…
Even diamonds can be melted; what was mine before it???
Unwillingly at my stake; I crossed the long forgotten border…

You cared to guide me back to your fort…

And left me to wander in the wind …
It was not tears that ebb and flow…

It was you who have streamed back to the sea…

Unfathomable is the law of yours…

I draught for a thirst that can never be quenched

But you satiated my thirst that I didn’t famine for…

There are boundless whys for you to answer…

Will you give a moment thought to it???????????

I still live in the uncertainty of you…

Just give me a chase…

Let the candle wicker in the wind…

Let the flame blaze in the storm…

Let the storm die out the currents in your sea…

Once the torrent has cave in…

You will find me waiting; at the threshold of your sea…

walkin thru da leaves,,,

" A man and a Boy"
... m in unison wid da child dat neva broke a tear...
... m by his side wen he is takin his first step...
... lol, m evn witnessin his first sulkin days @ da nusery...
... now, m a host 2 his tears...
.... in da big world wid his small feet...
.... m so wretched by walkin wid da man...
who just laid his old man.... engraved but not encraved...
... i just cant fathom da heart that threw da soul away...


now m da podium where i m goin 2 b attracted again...
... dis tym 2 da "man and his wife"...


tony parson... i just loved ur book....


..... the kite runner....
gosh da film killed struck a blow 2 my blurrred conscience..,
i just loved it...


P.S... there is a way 2 b gud again.....

FIDDLIN WID MA FINGERS..

23-03-2010. Tuesday with no coming events…

A little sunshine splashed on the frowned brow which lay uncovered from the quilt that lay clumped over my face. I sheltered my night less sleep from the intruding sunlight with the help of my outstretched palm.  The refugee wasn’t secure for long as my alarm broke the silence of the moment. I reached out to calm it down but I was far too sleepy to grab it. So I let the voice to flare high. After minutes of its snooze, I finally gave up my comfort to let the hard day begin…

OMG! To my astonishment, it pretty late for my morning duties. It’s almost midday.  Did I set the alarm at the wrong time? Gosh! That means I slept round the clock. Hmmm that isn’t a new thing to happen for me especially during the holidays. By the way, these days are kind of suffering from insomniac. I just don’t fathom my biological clock. It appears to me as if I am treading onto the alternative way of killing time. which in one way I can explain how my day pass on so swiftly and the night time becomes a nightmare even when I am fully awake.  Right now it’s almost my time for bed but I just don’t seem to have the slightest craving for sleep in my eyes. That’s why I am here, blogging. LAME TIME!

What more to tell…. Or yell… I thought of writing a poem but I am left clueless about my topic. Moreover, I just finished reading the last book which I thought would end for few more days. But the book was real nice, only if you are interested in politics. Though I am not a political inclined person but I kinda love the book. It is called the “Dragon fire”. My English teacher handed it over to me to read so I took my sweet time to grasp everything I can. Basically, it is book about prediction of the next world war between India, Pakistan and China. Morally it elaborates the current situation between India and Pakistan over Kashmir and the border dispute between India and china regarding the state of Arunachal Pradesh. It also covers the terrain of Ladakh and all the small countries neighboring these bigger nations. Sadly, the book ends with the Indian nation crushed to the soil with Kashmir still in its hand and Pakistan declared as a slot for terrorism. China emerges as the winner with the suppression of Taiwan independence and becoming a hostile country to the west.  All these conflicts are triggered by the insurgency in Tibet by the special frontier force operating in India. Huh! I don’t mean to bore myself with my review but I can’t help the climax. It kind of interesting but it pierces me to hear of my country losing the supremacy of democracy over dictatorship. Maybe in mere future if I happen to chance upon the second edition of this novel, then I may read the book one more time to have a clearer picture. Hmmm

No ways, I just remember of my long holidays till 19^th April! Damn I hate myself for getting this info so late. I have already submitted my passport to the immigration office. Now I can’t go anywhere. I am stuck! I can collapse to boredom if not death! Shit! I hate this fate… this life is getting crappy… crappier than the crap…

Well that leaves me with the only option to crawl into my bed as I have to wake up fair early than today coz I am expected to follow to a lunch dana in sentul temple. Pray that my eyelid rest on the perfect edge to shut my eyes properly.

Will it be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare? Either will do!

P.S. Insomnia is not my disease!