The Dust Storm

Yesterday in a dust storm

i saw,

fluttering in the wind

with dry leaves and sundry...

Unspoken dreams, unheard prayers,

unanswered questions, unfinished tasks,

broken promises,

beliefs that once were

and hopes that never saw the sun again.

And it all flew madly

in a whirlwind,

before settling down

in the graveyard,

where wishes lay,

silently,

asleep beneath the layers

of the soil called Life...

Again...

I don’t know why I feel so bad at times that it seems the whole world is doing exactly what I would never ever want it to do. Ever.

I sometimes wonder why this happens to me. Is it because im too much in love with myself or because I hate everyone around me?

Why do I have to be good to people when I feel like tearing their limbs off their torsos?

Why do I have to be kind, polite, submissive, smiling, accepting, mature, reliable… when all I want to do is go into my shell and be left alone till my claws cry for some sunshine?

I want to laugh out aloud and I can’t. What is this lump in my throat that twitches painfully and makes me want to cry instead?

I saw my Ma leave for work this morning and suddenly, I missed my childhood.

Why is it that I realized I had a bad childhood only when I grew up? How did I always remain happy when I was a child?

When did I forget how to trust?

When was the last time I told myself that everything would be fine and believed in it at the same time?

I know you have the answers... And thats why i always come back to you.. Again.. and Again...

Though... i realise ... that one day, when I feel you have no answers left... or are too busy to notice, I’ll probably never question again...

Wonder...

Kyaaa.. :(
Not fair... How come everyone saw The Kite and not The Riddle?

The Kite

Im torn, exhausted,
The sky is no more
The friend that it used to be,
It’s scary, it’s alien.
Hold me tight,
Lest I get flown away,
There where I don’t want to be.
Stuck on trees,
Dangling from unknown electric lines,
Chased and leered at by beings…
Why all the pain
When I can rest in your hands,
And still be loved,
And cherished
As a kite
And not merely as its memory

The Riddle

She looked at the made up face and adjusted the eyeliner. The soot colored mascara was troubling her eyes. Ignoring that, she grabbed the brush and gave her cheeks a final touch of the rose hue blusher. She was beautiful that night. But who was she?

Not her fathers Sunshine who was taught how to use the fork and knife without making any noise. Not the Jenny who cried on Granny’s birthday because she dint have the money to buy her a gift. Not the student who diligently finished her projects in time and loved to go to the museum with Ma. Not the girl who was kissed by Brad on her sixteenth birthday. Not the Jane who spent hours reading fiction and literature during vacations. Not the sweetheart who was promised a diamond ring by her lover. Not even the mother who touched Johny’s cheek that morning and said, “Il be back home soon today, darling.”

“May I please welcome on stage, one of the most successful and influential people in the world of cyber media today… Ms. Jeniffer Suzanne Nicholson, CMD, Starlite Media Productions'!...”

The voice from the auditorium boomed throughout the corridor and the back stage where she was standing, getting set to get recognized by the who’s who of the global business circle. The huge room was totally empty, yet she sensed a familiar presence in there.

“...She is young. She is rich and powerful. She is dynamic!...”

She is alone. She is hated and envied. She is scared.

“...She is everything that one would have ever wished to become!!...”

She had wanted to learn pottery. She had wished to go to Salsa lessons with her dear friend Kate.

“...The media has nick named her ‘The Midas of Cyber Media!!...”

Stay away from her. She is cursed.

“...In no time she has built a business empire worth billions and in the process earned the fame and glory of being the youngest businesswoman to take this award tonight!...”

In no time? She almost killed herself working as if there was no tomorrow. Ate less. Drank more. Spent little time with kids. Divorced her ignorant better half. Six years of blood and sweat. Sixty years of pain and suffering.

But finally, it was all worth it. Finally, she can be happy for all that she had got. What was troubling her that night then?

She walked onto the stage which was aglow with a thousand lights and beautiful shimmer of red and silver streamers. With a smile stuck across her face, she gracefully accepted the award. There was applause. Some cheered. Some gestured a thumbs up.

To them, she told herself, she was glamour personified. She was the dream. She was a super woman. She looked at her reflection on the patina of the bronze statue.

“But who was she?”

Ironing the ironies of life

A man bleeds to death lying on one of the busiest roads in Delhi after a fatal accident

Neighbor High Society Aunty (to herself): “Goddd!… Aaj kal toh…people are no more sensitive… They have lost the trust, the mutual love, the respect, the humanity towards those in need…
Umm… Wonder if Beyonce ultimately decided what she would wear for Oprah’s Spring Collection Birthday Party…”

A Pug is made to run after a school bus in an advertisement of a famous mobile network.

And the whole world suddenly goes crazy yelling at the company and the creative agency. Wait a minute. I think someone used a wrong analogy here. They thought the girl in the ad represented the honorable Ruling Party President. Poor (P)ug (M)ahashay. Made to run after her…. here, there… eveyrwhere… Not Fair. Ahem. Are we sure it’s only the PFA that has a problem here?

Harry Potter finds place in UK school curriculum

I’ve heard the young Indians also want Harry Potter in their academic curriculum. That would be extremely instrumental in strengthening their fundamentals of umm… English? Errr…It makes a good read you see. Soon they’d have subjects like ‘Defense against Dark Maths”. And in due time, we would be so inspired by the whole thing that there would be school mottos which scream ‘Never tickle a sleeping dragon’ and students running after their house captains to scrape them ‘nearly headless’.

Never Mind.

Life isn’t so bad after all… See, if there is only one place devoid of violence after Kashmir, it’s the Cricket Pitch. Ok. No jokes on sensitive issues… But Im sure a new team is anticipated to join for the next series of IPL… ‘The Soldiers of Al Qaeda’.
Fellow cricketers! Meet the Fockers. Heh.

Silent Love

There would be times I would silently look at you,
And see the skies drifting apart,
Making way for the dreams
that I had never seen
ever before in my life.

I fear, my dear, I may not be worth
the hearty laughs and tears of joy
that you would bring into my life tomorrow.
I so wish id wake up one day and know
Why I could never tell you…

Let the silence be, I need no words from you,
No promises, nothing at all
A hug would do, or maybe
not even that
For me, just the silence would do.

For it aptly fills the gap between the questions
and unspoken answers.
At least there is dreary consolation that
one day you’d learn about the love
that silently grew within me, for you.