Dear sweet soldier of mine
I hope you are doing fine
I pray daily for your safe return
Home,today is not to soon
Marching off to the war
Please let me thank you
One more time
Thank you for your sacrifice
Thank you for your time
Always in my thoughts
Forever in my mind
If tomorrow finds you in this war
I know that our freedom
Is what you are fighting for
So please let me thank you
One more time
Oh thank you dear sweet soldier of mine
You're always in my prayers
And always on my mind.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Healing Showers Of Pain
Thundershowers at almost midnight in a warm sultry Room....! Tapping tapping on the window sill... multiple tiny rivulets flow along the glass panes making for a pretty picture... I look through the glass to see a distorted world... The cynic in me laughs and says, "As if it ain't distorted enough yet..."
The distant streetlamps are a pretty blur behind the curtains of shimmering falling water. The streets a field of skittling raindrops, as they hop, skip and jump and finally settle in the lap of a comforting puddle... The puddle itself trembling with the tremors of quietening every single raindrop it absorbs... Absorbing into itself its every turmoil, its every fear, its every shiver...
The distant sound of thunder like a drum roll... Calling out to solitary souls to rejoice in the storm... To let it wash away the pain, the hurt, the anger, the pessimism... To let it take over the barren and fill it with something of splendor... If only I could let it... For pain seems to have made its home now... Unrelenting, unmoving, uncaring...
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
In Love
I try to feel love in everything I do. When I wake up every morning, I feel love for all the people I know (unless I am in a really crappy mood 'cos of something bad that happened the previous day, and don't know who to blame; rare though). I take every new day as it comes. I believe, loving others has a lot to do with being able to love oneself. Loving oneself doesn't mean being a narcissist (standing in front of the mirror and admiring self). It's being in sync with who I am, being aware of myself, my qualities, talents, my abilities and being perfectly happy with them. Once, I love myself, I can love others. Once I love others, the world is a more beautiful place to live in.
For all those who are wary of love, I might as well say one thing. Giving up on love and giving up on life is not what one should do to live a life free from heartbreaks. Making one's existence vegetable like is not the right thing to do. Life has a lot more to offer than a couple of broken relationships. Wallowing in self-pity is just not done. Introspection is important, but giving up is not. It is one life. Rather than living an eternity being wary of love, one should feel it, experience it and love being in love.
For all those who are wary of love, I might as well say one thing. Giving up on love and giving up on life is not what one should do to live a life free from heartbreaks. Making one's existence vegetable like is not the right thing to do. Life has a lot more to offer than a couple of broken relationships. Wallowing in self-pity is just not done. Introspection is important, but giving up is not. It is one life. Rather than living an eternity being wary of love, one should feel it, experience it and love being in love.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Woman
Have you known her ever?
She, who is of clean mind
And pure heart.
She, who when loved
Loves back in her entirety.
But when challenged
She, personifies the determination
To fight, to exist, to prove herself.
She, whose instinctive nature
Is to nurture
To pass into new hands
The myths, legends, tales, rites
Of aeons ago.
And to show the vision
Of a new and brighter tomorrow.
Of an earth that is free of vices,
Of demons and devils
That strangle freedom
She, who breathes and believes
In the vast treasures of her powers
The power to believe, trust and have faith
In herself and others
In the darkest, lowest hours of life.
The power to face the challenge everyday
To prove herself in a world
Which is lost to her.
A world which breeds and is bred by
Those seeking to rule over the other human.
The power to love, when pained
The power to willingly lose,
Yet not be trapped
By the greed of worthless material gain.
She, is the epitome of patience, passion and persistence.
She, is the one who sees the world
With a new sight everyday.
She spreads lights and colors
As bright as the blossoms in May.
To care, to love, to nurture, to cherish,
She, steps into this world.
Seek and search to find her.
She, is the Woman
She, who is of clean mind
And pure heart.
She, who when loved
Loves back in her entirety.
But when challenged
She, personifies the determination
To fight, to exist, to prove herself.
She, whose instinctive nature
Is to nurture
To pass into new hands
The myths, legends, tales, rites
Of aeons ago.
And to show the vision
Of a new and brighter tomorrow.
Of an earth that is free of vices,
Of demons and devils
That strangle freedom
She, who breathes and believes
In the vast treasures of her powers
The power to believe, trust and have faith
In herself and others
In the darkest, lowest hours of life.
The power to face the challenge everyday
To prove herself in a world
Which is lost to her.
A world which breeds and is bred by
Those seeking to rule over the other human.
The power to love, when pained
The power to willingly lose,
Yet not be trapped
By the greed of worthless material gain.
She, is the epitome of patience, passion and persistence.
She, is the one who sees the world
With a new sight everyday.
She spreads lights and colors
As bright as the blossoms in May.
To care, to love, to nurture, to cherish,
She, steps into this world.
Seek and search to find her.
She, is the Woman
Monday, August 29, 2011
I Remember
I walk along the road. I remember a private joke. I smile.
I see them walk hand in hand. I remember walking hand in hand. I see us there.
I sit by the window when it rains. I remember dancing in the rain. I want to dance again but I can't.
I see the skyline of the city from my house. I remember the silent conversations. I smile a sad smile.
I talk to people. I remember our cozy, hushed whispers. I pause to remember more...
I read a book. I remember those excited discussions. I weave a new one behind closed eyes.
I sing a song. I remember the adoring praise. I strain my ears to hear it just once more.
I watch a movie. I remember our awestruck delight. I laugh out loud.
I listen to a song. I remember those poetic sweet nothings. I stop and sigh.
I eat. I remember the eagerness to try a new food. I crave for more.
I wake up. I remember waking up together. I look around to find only a sore emptiness.
I try to sleep. I remember feeling warm and safe in those arms. I shed a lonely tear.
I dream. I remember all the other unfulfilled dreams. I cry.
I hope. I remember hoping for it to come back. I pray.
I breathe. I remember looking into those eyes while we laugh. I wonder when it will happen again.
I love. I remember loving. I still want to love some more.
I feel lost. I remember the time I seemed to have found myself. I search for it.
I see them walk hand in hand. I remember walking hand in hand. I see us there.
I sit by the window when it rains. I remember dancing in the rain. I want to dance again but I can't.
I see the skyline of the city from my house. I remember the silent conversations. I smile a sad smile.
I talk to people. I remember our cozy, hushed whispers. I pause to remember more...
I read a book. I remember those excited discussions. I weave a new one behind closed eyes.
I sing a song. I remember the adoring praise. I strain my ears to hear it just once more.
I watch a movie. I remember our awestruck delight. I laugh out loud.
I listen to a song. I remember those poetic sweet nothings. I stop and sigh.
I eat. I remember the eagerness to try a new food. I crave for more.
I wake up. I remember waking up together. I look around to find only a sore emptiness.
I try to sleep. I remember feeling warm and safe in those arms. I shed a lonely tear.
I dream. I remember all the other unfulfilled dreams. I cry.
I hope. I remember hoping for it to come back. I pray.
I breathe. I remember looking into those eyes while we laugh. I wonder when it will happen again.
I love. I remember loving. I still want to love some more.
I feel lost. I remember the time I seemed to have found myself. I search for it.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Just another brick in the wall
The predictability of human interactions has become a bane for all those who seek excitement in meeting new people. I met someone recently for a formal interaction and there was an uncomfortable and overbearing sense of deja vu hanging in the air. The person was new and so was the ambiance, but the conversation was extraordinarily drab. Talk of aspirations and personal or professional five-year goals only worsened my state of restlessness. I desperately needed a witty remark or a clever repartee to bring me back from the dead.
Where is the spontaneity now? Where is the naturalness gone? Why are we afraid to be different? How can we say we are unique when all we are doing is becoming someone who cannot be differentiated from another in a world teeming with a billion other you’s? Even our normal conversations are generously peppered with cliches and the chosen ten-fifteen words that form our vocabulary - “Awesome. Cool. Great. Cute.” We are becoming more unoriginal than ever. That’s all we can choose from to exclaim our excitement.
All of us seem to be rolling off the metaphorical conveyor belt of a mass production unit; we talk alike, dress alike, behave alike and sadly, even have begun to think alike. Our education system, right from the primary level doesn’t allow for exploration of concepts with an open mind. We are more used to the system of learning by rote and agreeing with whatever is told to us. We have grown so conditioned to this type of learning that now we rely on ready sources to tell us also how to act and react to questions, people and situations. We try to elicit responses of a certain kind, and in trying to be manipulative, we end up being predictable fools.
Consider this - you have a job interview to go to. You almost certainly know what kind of questions to expect - “What are your aspirations in life? Where do you see yourself five years from now? What are your strengths and weaknesses? Who is your idol?” and then some more. While these are perfectly valid questions, they also have become so commonplace, that everyone has a well-rehearsed and well-thought-out answer to these well before the interview is even scheduled.
The mantra now is to create the impression that you are the best among the lot of rats squiggling their way to the “finish” line. Look around and you will see advertisements of courses that will help you crack the ultimate job interview, of counselors who claim to rock your dating life, of personality development courses that help you make friends and enrich your social life, self help books to help you pitch your sales in the perfect manner and workshops to let you negotiate better business deals. We are all unaware, but eager participants in the rat race.
Ironically, having people speak, dress and behave similarly must make the process of evaluating people a more objective and easier task. Or does it?
It is a little alarming to realize how much of our behavior is conditioned by these profit-making ventures. More alarming is the fact that while we are learning social etiquette, public speaking and acquiring charm and confidence, we have nothing left of our own that we can proudly stake a claim on; not even our impulses which are smartly conditioned to do the “right” thing at the “right” time. Political correctness rules. I do not disagree with the need to be smart and well-mannered. I have my problems with the umpteen replicas all around me.
We are all ultimately becoming like a set of actors rehearsing our lines and blurting them out at the opportune moment What questions should the interviewer ask? How should the job applicant respond to it? What are the keywords, the catch phrases that slot you perfectly in an organization recruitment database?
If you describe yourself as “dynamic young professional seeking to enhance his competencies in a reputed organization of entrepreneurial culture while contributing to its multidimensional growth… (and all that blah!),” save it. All in all you’re just another brick in the wall.
Where is the spontaneity now? Where is the naturalness gone? Why are we afraid to be different? How can we say we are unique when all we are doing is becoming someone who cannot be differentiated from another in a world teeming with a billion other you’s? Even our normal conversations are generously peppered with cliches and the chosen ten-fifteen words that form our vocabulary - “Awesome. Cool. Great. Cute.” We are becoming more unoriginal than ever. That’s all we can choose from to exclaim our excitement.
All of us seem to be rolling off the metaphorical conveyor belt of a mass production unit; we talk alike, dress alike, behave alike and sadly, even have begun to think alike. Our education system, right from the primary level doesn’t allow for exploration of concepts with an open mind. We are more used to the system of learning by rote and agreeing with whatever is told to us. We have grown so conditioned to this type of learning that now we rely on ready sources to tell us also how to act and react to questions, people and situations. We try to elicit responses of a certain kind, and in trying to be manipulative, we end up being predictable fools.
Consider this - you have a job interview to go to. You almost certainly know what kind of questions to expect - “What are your aspirations in life? Where do you see yourself five years from now? What are your strengths and weaknesses? Who is your idol?” and then some more. While these are perfectly valid questions, they also have become so commonplace, that everyone has a well-rehearsed and well-thought-out answer to these well before the interview is even scheduled.
The mantra now is to create the impression that you are the best among the lot of rats squiggling their way to the “finish” line. Look around and you will see advertisements of courses that will help you crack the ultimate job interview, of counselors who claim to rock your dating life, of personality development courses that help you make friends and enrich your social life, self help books to help you pitch your sales in the perfect manner and workshops to let you negotiate better business deals. We are all unaware, but eager participants in the rat race.
Ironically, having people speak, dress and behave similarly must make the process of evaluating people a more objective and easier task. Or does it?
It is a little alarming to realize how much of our behavior is conditioned by these profit-making ventures. More alarming is the fact that while we are learning social etiquette, public speaking and acquiring charm and confidence, we have nothing left of our own that we can proudly stake a claim on; not even our impulses which are smartly conditioned to do the “right” thing at the “right” time. Political correctness rules. I do not disagree with the need to be smart and well-mannered. I have my problems with the umpteen replicas all around me.
We are all ultimately becoming like a set of actors rehearsing our lines and blurting them out at the opportune moment What questions should the interviewer ask? How should the job applicant respond to it? What are the keywords, the catch phrases that slot you perfectly in an organization recruitment database?
If you describe yourself as “dynamic young professional seeking to enhance his competencies in a reputed organization of entrepreneurial culture while contributing to its multidimensional growth… (and all that blah!),” save it. All in all you’re just another brick in the wall.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Taking off my mask: Little by little
It has been really long since I posted a blog. And it makes me uncomfortable to note how lackadaisical I have become about the one thing I enjoy a lot... Writing.
It's not that there is a dearth of ideas. They are there. They assume the most tangible forms in my consciousness. I think of putting them into words. The inclination to attempt foiling the vivid imagery with inadequate expression is overcome by my desire to preserve it in its truest, most original and uninvolved form. For I seem to be losing faith in my ability to express myself frankly enough to be understood by those I want to read me.
Honesty is still my number one priority in keeping my relationships with people alive, spirited and to make me feel truly connected. Lately, I seem to be taking the easy way out; escaping answering questions about myself, hoping my friends don't see through my lies, wondering if my animated chatter seems happy enough to all around me, crossing my fingers that the constant nagging voice somewhere inside my head doesn't become loud enough for people around me to hear.
Here I go again. Doing what I didn't want to. Writing betrays my intentions. I am expressing myself, yet again.
Time maybe for me to dig out some of those half-ripe ideas rotting away in that dusty old attic of a mind of mine. Time for me to carefully wipe the patina of self-consciousness off them and revive that feeling that prompted me, even if for a second , to challenge myself to express the abstract, the inanimate and the uncanny feeling of wholesomeness it brought to me for that short while. I am craving for the excitement again.
I am hoping to snuggle back into my comfort zone, and hopefully, without much effort.
It's not that there is a dearth of ideas. They are there. They assume the most tangible forms in my consciousness. I think of putting them into words. The inclination to attempt foiling the vivid imagery with inadequate expression is overcome by my desire to preserve it in its truest, most original and uninvolved form. For I seem to be losing faith in my ability to express myself frankly enough to be understood by those I want to read me.
Honesty is still my number one priority in keeping my relationships with people alive, spirited and to make me feel truly connected. Lately, I seem to be taking the easy way out; escaping answering questions about myself, hoping my friends don't see through my lies, wondering if my animated chatter seems happy enough to all around me, crossing my fingers that the constant nagging voice somewhere inside my head doesn't become loud enough for people around me to hear.
Here I go again. Doing what I didn't want to. Writing betrays my intentions. I am expressing myself, yet again.
Time maybe for me to dig out some of those half-ripe ideas rotting away in that dusty old attic of a mind of mine. Time for me to carefully wipe the patina of self-consciousness off them and revive that feeling that prompted me, even if for a second , to challenge myself to express the abstract, the inanimate and the uncanny feeling of wholesomeness it brought to me for that short while. I am craving for the excitement again.
I am hoping to snuggle back into my comfort zone, and hopefully, without much effort.
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