It is true that your heart is all used up, and that most of your emotions have been burnt to smoke and ashes; but I still feel there’s something of a human left inside you. Whether I feel proud of that element of humanity, or sympathize with it, is still a question I haven’t answered.
And what can you salvage from this emotional wreckage?
You will find a few tattered, fluttering pieces of love somewhere, shivering in the wind; another few crooked, out-of-shape, rusted fragments of empathy trying to fight the heavy rains; and somewhere in this mess you will observe, shuddering in a dark and wet corner, the bloodied remains of trust.
You can pick and choose the battered emotion of your choice. You can even play with it, it won’t complain; there’s nothing left to complain anyways. You can break them further, just to see how far can emotions be actually broken; you can try molding them like clay, just to find out how much can emotions be bent.
I am sure you will be surprised by what you find…
Friday, January 27, 2006
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Money
What money can do, is magic. What it cannot, is reality.
There’s too much truth associated with money. People swear by it, more than they swear by God. Infact, a lot of people live for money. It’s equally true that a lot more die for it.
Money often breeds hatred. Surprisingly, it breeds love with an even greater ease.
Money changes people. And then there are some who use it to maintain status quo.
But they say money can’t buy happiness.
Maybe they are right. But I still feel that it can at least buy your sadness away…
There’s too much truth associated with money. People swear by it, more than they swear by God. Infact, a lot of people live for money. It’s equally true that a lot more die for it.
Money often breeds hatred. Surprisingly, it breeds love with an even greater ease.
Money changes people. And then there are some who use it to maintain status quo.
But they say money can’t buy happiness.
Maybe they are right. But I still feel that it can at least buy your sadness away…
Friday, January 20, 2006
And the only thing certain…
… Are uncertainties.
It’s strange that even at this stage, there does not seem to be a clear light in the distance. Even Heisenberg would not have predicted this level of confusion in the basic framework of matter.
I feel sometimes I am living in a number of different parallel worlds. Parallel pasts, and consequently, parallel futures. Only this time, it’s not science fiction that I am talking about. But my own trysts with those disturbing parallelisms. A huge world of ifs and buts. A road chockfull of forks. Each leading to heaven, each leading to hell.
I hadn’t expected this to happen. The mist should have cleared instead of deepening.
But maybe I have found the reason.
Maybe it’s true (and no matter now ironical it may seem, but that is the only plausible explanation), that the farther you have traveled from your home, the more lost you really are…
It’s strange that even at this stage, there does not seem to be a clear light in the distance. Even Heisenberg would not have predicted this level of confusion in the basic framework of matter.
I feel sometimes I am living in a number of different parallel worlds. Parallel pasts, and consequently, parallel futures. Only this time, it’s not science fiction that I am talking about. But my own trysts with those disturbing parallelisms. A huge world of ifs and buts. A road chockfull of forks. Each leading to heaven, each leading to hell.
I hadn’t expected this to happen. The mist should have cleared instead of deepening.
But maybe I have found the reason.
Maybe it’s true (and no matter now ironical it may seem, but that is the only plausible explanation), that the farther you have traveled from your home, the more lost you really are…
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Love – Part III (…We’ll always be friends)
“To stay with you I would be a fool…
But when I walked away, I knew it was the most foolish thing anyways…”
When love ends, it’s like packing your things to shift your home. You are always undecided till the end what to take with you, and what to leave behind. You are afraid that one day those things you’ve left behind will be delivered right at your door-step (with incorrect amount of postage stamps of course, but that’s still acceptable sometimes…), and you would end up staring at them, never knowing whether to throw them away, or hide them somewhere in the basement.
What starts as a bunch of Technicolor dreams turns to a set of worn-out and jaded black-and-white duplicates, only a collector’s item, never to be played back, but only to be kept as another memory on the shelf, to talk to friends about, and reminisce over a casual martini.
The most interesting conversations happen once it’s all over. Infact all those things that you had bottled up inside, now effuse like the smell of mothballs from the corner of your mind’s closet. Though admittedly, there’s some consolation perhaps in the fact that you got your heart back at least. We are of course not talking here about all those things you never got back (and never will).
And to top it all, the clincher is definitely the last and perhaps the most wonderful cliché:
“But we’ll always be friends”.
I have tried to comprehend the intensity of this statement, sometimes piecemeal, sometimes holistically, but even after all this time, I still fail to understand whether the keyword in this statement is “we”, or “friends”?
(Concluded)
But when I walked away, I knew it was the most foolish thing anyways…”
When love ends, it’s like packing your things to shift your home. You are always undecided till the end what to take with you, and what to leave behind. You are afraid that one day those things you’ve left behind will be delivered right at your door-step (with incorrect amount of postage stamps of course, but that’s still acceptable sometimes…), and you would end up staring at them, never knowing whether to throw them away, or hide them somewhere in the basement.
What starts as a bunch of Technicolor dreams turns to a set of worn-out and jaded black-and-white duplicates, only a collector’s item, never to be played back, but only to be kept as another memory on the shelf, to talk to friends about, and reminisce over a casual martini.
The most interesting conversations happen once it’s all over. Infact all those things that you had bottled up inside, now effuse like the smell of mothballs from the corner of your mind’s closet. Though admittedly, there’s some consolation perhaps in the fact that you got your heart back at least. We are of course not talking here about all those things you never got back (and never will).
And to top it all, the clincher is definitely the last and perhaps the most wonderful cliché:
“But we’ll always be friends”.
I have tried to comprehend the intensity of this statement, sometimes piecemeal, sometimes holistically, but even after all this time, I still fail to understand whether the keyword in this statement is “we”, or “friends”?
(Concluded)
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Regrets
It’s not so strange that most of the things we do in life are merely done to avoid the regret of not having done them. What is strange is that once we are through with those things, we are perhaps left with even more regret in our backpacks than what we started with…
The whole exercise which was aimed at avoiding the weight of those heavy stones, falls flat, and regrets of all shapes and sizes find their way in to burden our shoulders further.
But is there a way to lose that weight?
Or will that regret of carrying the weight remain?
And be the most burdensome of them all?
The whole exercise which was aimed at avoiding the weight of those heavy stones, falls flat, and regrets of all shapes and sizes find their way in to burden our shoulders further.
But is there a way to lose that weight?
Or will that regret of carrying the weight remain?
And be the most burdensome of them all?
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Promise
Tell me those lies, I promise I won’t ask for the truth…
Tell me your dreams, I promise I won’t ask about your life…
Trust me with your hate, I promise I won’t worry about love…
Trust me with your pain, I promise I won’t force a smile…
Let me shelter you from rain, I promise I will drown myself if I have to…
Let me drive you away from here, I promise I will never bring us back…
Believe me with your heart, I promise I will keep it safer than mine…
Believe me with your soul, I promise I will hold it even after death…
Love me the way you please, I promise I will never cross the lines…
Love me like you’ll leave me tonight, I promise I will still swear by your name…
Find me with your faith, I promise I will never believe in anything else again…
And find me with your answers, I promise I will never question myself again…
Tell me your dreams, I promise I won’t ask about your life…
Trust me with your hate, I promise I won’t worry about love…
Trust me with your pain, I promise I won’t force a smile…
Let me shelter you from rain, I promise I will drown myself if I have to…
Let me drive you away from here, I promise I will never bring us back…
Believe me with your heart, I promise I will keep it safer than mine…
Believe me with your soul, I promise I will hold it even after death…
Love me the way you please, I promise I will never cross the lines…
Love me like you’ll leave me tonight, I promise I will still swear by your name…
Find me with your faith, I promise I will never believe in anything else again…
And find me with your answers, I promise I will never question myself again…
The Goal?
To live life, and not just lead it,
To thrive on the air, and not just breathe it
To cherish the dreams, and not just spend the night with them
To taste the joys, and not just say hello to them in the passing…
To thrive on the air, and not just breathe it
To cherish the dreams, and not just spend the night with them
To taste the joys, and not just say hello to them in the passing…
Just Like That...
... Sometimes you can do so much when you haven't planned for anything. Perhaps life's best moments are those that we never really put down in our schedules. Life's best appointments are those that never made it to our calenders. And the most powerful wakeup calls are those that never found their way into our alarm clocks.
That's the beauty of doing things just like that. Not holding on to elements that generally govern our lives. To pick up your bike and just drive through the night, letting the wind wash away the cares from your hands... And then end up at a coffee shop where you can dream about everything; as the levee of your sleep is broken down by the flood of adrenalin...
To sit down with a pen and paper and let the words guide your fingers to write themselves, till you find that you have filled up pages about anything and everything that you never thought you would write about. Stories are formed thus; and big ones. And important ones.
We should do this more often. Try breaking the walls around us. Trying to live with life; and not just end up catching up with it. Being yourself once in a while.
Just like that.
That's the beauty of doing things just like that. Not holding on to elements that generally govern our lives. To pick up your bike and just drive through the night, letting the wind wash away the cares from your hands... And then end up at a coffee shop where you can dream about everything; as the levee of your sleep is broken down by the flood of adrenalin...
To sit down with a pen and paper and let the words guide your fingers to write themselves, till you find that you have filled up pages about anything and everything that you never thought you would write about. Stories are formed thus; and big ones. And important ones.
We should do this more often. Try breaking the walls around us. Trying to live with life; and not just end up catching up with it. Being yourself once in a while.
Just like that.
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