Saturday, October 25, 2008

Mr. Bhat.

All you.

So when I look back to all those years of playing and teasing I always remember him never talking much. When I search the secrets now, I come to know, that well, mr bhat here has always been the shy introvert. When the last that id met him a few days ago, I realized the amount to which both of us have grown, to be adults. Yes, adults. We make good friends as well, both can talk to each other even with all the year gaps. Its been ages now that I know him, of his existence, of his being the cricket lover. But, well, I didn’t know him, know him. But now that we have developed the sms factor as a very good (but expensive) way of communication its rather more easy to get to know each other.
Being the introvert that he is, he sure is still expressive when he wants to be. The fun that he has playing cricket or eating masala dosa after a long time is pretty much an evident streak of being expressive. And I still want to know how did he get so damned good at hindi? When? How?
And he writes so well in poems! The hindi omg! I dunno so much of hindi! Haha! While we still live in different states altogether, its rather more appealing to talk like this then meet regularly, distance gives this one good training period. Heh! Hes the one person that I always knew would become something, someone. The dedication that he has towards his work, well it actually made me jealous at times!!
He’s still somebody I don’t know much, but yet still know him a lot. A weird sentence, but yet true.
you remember the times we played cricket on your verandah? You guys always made me the fielder! Humph! And I got to say that you pretty much have a very good defense mechanism. You’re a good debater. I like talking to you about things, coz I know your listening and reacting and not thinking about some good masala dosa or counting stars on the back of your mind. :)
you always take a day to normalize though. Yes, always. I guess always that we’ve met the year gaps had been a lot. So maybe the hesitance. When I asked you about acceptance, you said you don’t accept easily. But eventually I guess you do. I was like that too. A lil stubborn about things. But then things change and people change, things that matter the more, change. :)
And now that you have a good fan follower of chiks around you, you’ve loosened up a bit! Haha! That’s good though you know. But I'm very sure, that you’re not of the experimental kind. Your more of the secure guy. And I cannot believe it that you had mango pastry? Pphhbbbtt!! :P im writing this listening to that yuuvraaj ka song and I remembered how you love a.r rehman! I do too!! Anyhoo.
Ur still an unfolded piece of paper that is taking time to open. But I'm sure, the paper will be plain soon enough! (good line, I know!)
And thank you again, for the poem, it was beautiful. All me! All me!
Yahoo doesn’t work here though still *angel with the wings*
oh it worked!!





And the heavens were rolling
Like a wheel on a track
And our sky was unfolding
And itll never fold back
Sky blue and black

Antithesis

A beginning
An end
It takes either years or seconds
Beauty or unattractiveness
Both take your breath away
Silence and words
Both convey
Antonyms explain synonyms.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Feelings.

My friend once told me to write about feelings. Around two months ago maybe during the stagnant phase of my writing period. And I haven't written about it since. Why, I don’t know. I've been thinking about it, for sure. But couldn’t write anything about it. When he said that to me, all I could think was “ah, well that’s easy”. Later that night I sat down in front of my pc, like now, and could come up with nothing. Feelings of what? For what? Why? Neither could I use any big words and get it done with as he'd asked me not to. He asked me to keep it simple. Just plain layman english.
I asked one of my friends,” what are feelings?” he replied, “umm..they are the things we…well..feel.” “ oh thanks”. When I read it in the dictionary it said, sense of touch, capacity to feel. The same thing.
What I couldn’t understand was whether all that I experinced in my day to day life, all that I blog about, are feelings? Well, yea I guess. My whining over being fat, thoughts of loving someone, unusual crying over losing someone, bringing myself to acceptance, feeling a song…my song. They are all, feelings. My feelings. I made myself believe a lot of things in the past, that big girls don’t cry, boys never cry, fathers don’t express as much as mothers,after a certain age you don’t like the color pink…don’t go yelping with joy over a box of chocolates. But now that I see this set of emotions, I don’t understand who made these beliefs? And why did I believe them? Why cant I act crazy at times over listening to my favorite song, lick and slourp ice cream on my hands? I can and I don’t want to “believe” things anymore. I want to feel, express.not to overwhelm myself, but to be myself.
I never knew I could emote sadness, I rather am very oblivious to physical pain to cry over it, but maybe not very strong to handle emotional pain. I probably know to control myself very well, but for a while. Just for a while. I let myself go after two years of bottling things in me. Not that it made me feel any good, just the feeling of…feelings.
I remember the times when I stood by the rail doors while commuting and thinking. Theres this one place in local trains near the door where I can stand and think. Or just stay blank, and believe me I can never go blank elsewise.
There was this one feeling of emptiness that took me over when I thought about relationships. I wondered whether I was any attatched to any one in my life. My family, friends, guys. And there were these selected people who swam around in my thoughts immediately. A few people who are close and I felt some sort of possessive protection for them. I don’t know whether its love or just mere attatchment. But I know they exist and that I feel something for them. Some people that I hated even the sight of and some people that I craved and longed for. And feelings come and go, change every living second.
But they’re still there, I can sense them, know them, feel them.

I just wana feel real love
Feel the home that I live in.