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Every step I take towards living,
I'm stepping away from my calling
I'm stepping everywhere
end up getting nowhere
in search of stepping stones,
to move up the ladder
without grasping the idea
that these stones,
in due time,
will be steps I climb
up the downstair.
Am I trying to climb the ladder to nowhere?
Am I stepping up or down?
Am I kicking myself around?
I feel like an open book
not just some words on paper,
with still some story to tell
trying to mean something greater.
perpetually surrounded by stories but finding one for yourself is almost like a needle in a haystack!
sometimes my nimble fingers
slide across these coarse pages
subconsciously but smoothly
as if having a conversation,
filling these blank pages
with ghost stories
collected from the sages
of past ages unknown,
almost flirting with my sanity
running off on their own
like a free bird
talking to me
'Hey, are you reading this?
Look, I'm writing poetry!'.
Runaway fingers over runaway hearts...
Two years ago, I was still in love.
I was trying to build a new home with someone, upon the clouds above.

Four years ago, I was leaving my home to head to a new city.
I was trying to make a name for me, in a place of immense complexity.  

Six years ago, I was turning eighteen.
I was trying to make big plans so that my mother is proud of her gene.

Eight years ago, I was still in high school.
I was trying to survive through it rather than looking cool.

Ten years ago, I was a completely different person altogether.
I was trying to build bonds and friendships that would last forever.

Now that ten years have passed, I still feel the same.
Time has gone past like a flash, but there is no one left to blame.
Where is this life headed?
I feel like I'm in the middle of the sea
Trying to find a shore,
Realizing there has to be something more
To this rather daft existence
Trying to find the meaning of your origin,
Feels nothing more than a burden
I'd rather live a little,
For dreams that often seem brittle
All these empty pages in my book
Waiting to be scribbled down
With stories galore
Maybe what I need to work on
Is an index for the book,
So I can head towards
where I want to look.
Fate can decide, I can ignore.
The never-ending urge to control where you are going rather than letting destiny make that decision for you.
can't take on another lover
I'm just looking for a friend,
I gaze out of the tinted window
as the night washes away
the pain in the end,
would you like to sit next to me
when all that you've held sacred,
falls down and does not mend?
while we watch chaos overrun the world,
and now there's no time to pretend.
I'm not a man who sold the world, neither am I another shoulder for you to cry upon.

When it does happen, I'd prefer front row seats to watch the end of the world unfold. Are you up for it?

PS:  Inspired by Jim Morrison's soulful vocals in 'The End', the perfect apocalypse song for me.

Apparently, he was also the first rock and roll artist to have been arrested on stage during a show.

RIP JM. LONG LIVE ROCK N ROLL!
the feeling forward
instead of backward
for a change,
triggering my body
into whole new
sensations;
as if I never had
any urges before
this time,
when our lips met
it killed
the innocence
of crawling
before running,
which my heart was,
faster with every passing moment
like a drunken semaphore
of hormones raging
inside and out,
the brevity of time
and of life
clearly out of the window,
for when we collide
to come together
instead of falling apart,
like this poem
not a reckless serenade,
then it hit me
a moment lost in creating one
when she fixes me,
would be a pity
to know we can't
go back.
It's not the first time anymore,
I ponder with open eyes
But not with an open heart,
Each time I'm fallin' in love again
With a little less intensity and audacity,
But still going for it
With the hope,
I could fill it
With some half-hearted passion,
No butterflies in my stomach anymore
But it'll still be a movie,
You hope to end it
Before the credits get rolling.
thought this would last longer
but the feeling itself is that of solemn brevity, yet pure.
Trying to learn, while I learn to fail
Not to be fixated now that I have set the sail
Towards a wiser me, maybe a brighter me
Decided to travel through the travesties,
Only to enlighten me.  

All I was hoping for was an illusion,
Was it an illusion of my creation?
Maybe nothing but just a delusion,
Maybe I'll get through it, hoping for an end
Never realized how I was missing the point,
When I let my laughter suspend.

They say it is all about the journey and not the destination,
I always figured they didn't understand my situation
What's the worse that can happen, they ask
Well, I may come short of the handed task.

Is it all in the process, I wonder
Is pondering about the end game always a blunder
Weren't we all meant to get somewhere, achieve our goals?
Or are we always trying to fill a hole,
A hole without which we can't be whole,
A part of us, this hole so wide,
It can make you do the unthinkable,
A hole of the unknown in our very own little fable.

I'm always at war to figure out the answer,
Maybe the quest in itself is a paradox,
Maybe I'd be better off figuring out the way
To love the journey and finally think outside the box.

The answer had always been in front of my eyes,
I couldn't unwrap myself from all the lies
The untold truth of what we were supposed to be,
Not finding the hidden treasure but being the voyagers of the sea,
For the treasure is what you see,
When you become better than what you were meant to be.

Just a little older, just a little wiser
Now understanding that I was always a miser
Holding onto my darkness and never letting go,
Now I'm making memories that I can never blow.

The destination had always been on my mind,
Always right in front of my eyes,
I was clouded, I was stranded
The rewards always seemed nice
But walking when I was supposed to run
Made me comprehend that the journey is what is fun!
In a world full of locked doors,
You hold the key to mine.
My younger innocent self wrote this about an ex.

Now I'm older and wiser, or am I?
maybe I saw her
at the laundromat
and just missed her,
I was looking for a change,
while she walked
away.
Now my life remains the same.

A cruel penny for my thoughts indeed.
Talent was not worth it,
Until it turned into skill
Rise against the odds
To go in for the ****
Thought it was supposed to be silky smooth,
Thorns in a bed of roses lay still
Hate it for the un-nerving truth
Victory accompanied by a sunken face
And a broken tooth,
What once was
A mountain to climb,
Now within my reach
The peak of ascent
Toiling along the way
A threshold to breach,
A view so spectacular
I could live there forever
Alas, the only thing worse,
Than an incoming frown
Is the dream I was having
Of getting to the top
Without ever putting a foot down,
A ghost of perdition
A drunken semaphore of
Nihilistic fortitude
Scarring enough to even put
Any effort in the journey,
Thinking all I had was
What I ever needed.
The blues seems to suit my heavy heart,
May give me the fuel to finally kickstart.

...

Maybe I'll come back to this at a better time.
A trip down
The memory lane
Of simpler times
And happier days
Rekindling those vibes
With a few pals of mine,
The old tales of summer
Jumping around,
Even in pain,
Chasing ice cream trucks
On our bikes
For our favourite flavours
The old tales of winter
Trying to look cool,
Cracking lame jokes
Exhaling,
What we used to pretend
Was smoke
This conversation was special
I was out of touch
But not out of time,
For the very first time
I think you may consider yourself lucky if you are still in touch with your childhood friend(s); like talking about nothing substantial but the glory days of summers and winters gone by. I think we have seasonal associations with some people, some stay for a season and others for a reason.
it keeps me awake at night,
I try to escape but it holds me back
for all the things said and done,
I thought I could so easily run
away from it all,
but life holds you accountable
and I take full responsibility,
but it gets tiring
maybe I want to be happy
just for one day,
without having to think about
what ghost of my past
may show up tomorrow to play
for even though the days,
they come and go
as they please
without me in control,
what won't I give
to trade the dusky nightfall of yesterday
for the crack of dawn tomorrow
with that in my mind,
I try to live and grow
and I still cast a shadow,
that I may never outgrow
yet there is a light,
at the end of the tunnel
and I aspire to reach there someday,
for it may take away all the pain
and shine on like a crazy diamond.
There is a calming essence in letting go of your past, but it sometimes takes all fibre of your being and every once of your strength.

Listening to The Dark Side of the Moon again after ages.
Coming out
Into the world,
After a sure start
With nowhere to go now
Almost choking
At being an adult
Living life,
As it was laid out
By nature and nurture
Unfazed by my own religion
Or the world outside,
Never talked
To the guy upstairs
But living used to be sacred,
Is now all but sacrilege
If it were always
My plan versus his
I never stood a chance
But there's a sense
Of burdened freedom
Along with a sense
Of joyful realism
To be happy
any chance you get,
A fine ventriloquist
He's got his ways
Makes you admire
The work he does,
While pondering
The meaning of life,
The fine line
Between right and wrong,
Trying to get some
sense of control
Thinking of pulling
One up on my destiny
Of saving my soul
Not selling out
To this facade
Of what we call progress
But maybe I should
Just stay a while
And enjoy this blissful anaesthesia,
Monitored by the man himself.
Does God always have a plan, good or bad? Or can we be in the driving seat for a change?

Maybe it is a mixture of both - my faith in his ways and my faith in myself, that will be the answer to the questions I've been pondering.
I was stuck in a rut,
Not in a place I knew.
I had my heart shut,
Through and through.
If you are someone who often gets stuck in places beyond their comprehension, you just might relate to this. Places where your heart stops working and you don't know what is real and fantasy. I've heard people facing a war against addiction often experience this and also in some cases it can be a medical condition, often beyond their control. But in the end, I think the human spirit is stronger than these places and it is what will survive. We just have to believe and have faith in ourselves, often the most difficult part but well worth it.

PS: The title is inspired by a song of the same name by 'The War On Drugs'. One of my personal favourites and highly recommended :)
Those three words,
That you were so desperate to hear
And I was too afraid to speak,
Are now the difference
Between pleasure and pain
Between lightning and rain
Between effortless and strain
Between pride and shame.
The value of those three words is hard to comprehend unless you are very sure but, once you are there, it is very pure.

Have you ever spoken a lot of words but don't know if it is true?

Sentiment always triumphs the number of words spoken, unless those words are 'I love you'.
Time, an ever flickering flame
Makes you wonder where you stand,
If there was any other way around
To control it, mend it, change it
So that it won't rebound
The vibrations of time make you astound
It hasn't been kind, you say
Another minute, an hour, a day, an year you thought was there to stay
You didn't know when it flew by
I guess we'll wait for some time until this storm subsides...


Are we all meant to walk a path or should we strive for changing it?
And in turn, changing ourselves, with this passage of time
Pondering about the past and future from where you stand is itself a crime
So are we the criminals or were we robbed of time?


A moment of pleasure, a moment of pain
Ever wondered what's the last stop for this train?
Dust of the future, landing upon us today
The chaos and havoc of the present making your plans sway
Is it time for a change?
Is there any other way around it?

Time, for ever-flickering, is also ever-changing
Changes for the good and the bad
There's no hiding, but maybe we're on track
To drive the winds of change
By embracing them ourselves from the inside
Devoting it towards self-growth and development
Maybe we'll mentally hold on to that idea while letting destiny drive us
Towards a brighter future or a bitter end.

Move on, all alone, if you have to
There's all too much of this agony
The world is suffering but what's there left for you
Let that drive you towards creating a difference
And march closer towards your victory...

As I climb, as I rise high looking down upon the vibrant haze
I'm preparing myself for the next phase...
Another adventure awaits,
On the crisp of your mortality
One last leap of faith,
To set the record straight
Was it worth the wait?
To alter the course of a life
Based on ecstatic escapades of thrill;
A high flying free bird.

For now, the time has come
To lay low for a while
Always knowing deep in your heart
You are way too tired to go on,
That you are counting down the moments
Before you trade,
A short life for a sure life.
You're thick but you try,
Often the truth makes your blood thin
Stars die,
Like a whisper in the wind.
There are those concealed truths to control yourself, even forgive yourself and ultimately help yourself. Sometimes getting to the truth ain't ever worth it.
You can either be
Face to face with your fate,
Or simply an observer
When the time slips from your hands.
It's about who you were supposed to be
versus who you are right now.
Timings matter,
But the time gone by is something I regret.
What was meant to be and what it really is.
does love breeds death
as much as death breeds love?
Here's to hoping I love till the end, one way or another.

Sometimes we're as close to the living as we are to the dead.
That is love.
If the spirit isn't broke,
Yet all your dreams are up in smoke,
Whose ego will you now stroke?
Was it always a joke?
The famous saying goes - If it ain't broke don't fix it. Sometimes there are imperfect pieces to a perfect puzzle. The human spirit, though imperfect, has the power to change almost everything unless ego gets in the way.  

Your spirit vs your ego - Who will win?
Without the vision, people are rarely reminiscent
Of what they have been looking for,
And fall into a deep torpor.
Maybe it's this slumber that makes them realize,
All that they wanted to be was right there
In front of their own eyes.
With such strong desires held in her soul,
A fire was ignited in her heart
A rustling of leaves somewhere in the woods,
Where she sat somewhere along the brook
Pondering to herself,
Is happiness all I seek?
Or maybe it is just one of life's very old tricks
And it reeks.
With such a heavy heart
She walks alone into the woods,
Contemplating whether life is something
She ever understood.
I want to show you some beauty,
Before the damage is done.
Could be too big of an ask,
To give yourself away,
To this weight of love.
What are we, if not for words
Trying to find meaning in this world,
But always coming back to the place
Where our pen and paper submerge.
We are all poets, aren't we?
Is it just another perspective?
Or is it a much broader lie?
Is it what makes you fly into the sky?
Or is it that something that helps you through the night?

Is it just an expression of thoughts?
Is it just some feelings that you bought?
For someone, from someone?
Or is it everything that you sought?

Is it like writing your life script?
Or yet another piece of paper that you ripped?
Is it just some words you could gather?
Or is it out there forever,
Once you pieced those words together?

Is it just a combination of phrases and words?
Or is it expounding on a fairy tale that you heard?
Is it just a mysterious experience?
Or is it something more serious?

Is it an escape from this cruel world?
Or is it a declaration of truth with a banner unfurled?
Is it like God speaking through you?
Or is it always within you?
Maybe in different forms and styles,
Something that makes you stop and stay awhile?

Is it a catharsis of a tragedy?
Or something to help you keep steady?
Is it ever hostile?
Or does it always makes you smile?
What is poetry for you?
Trying so hard,
Nothing to see
But my own heart,
Maybe at peace
As it once was,
It now lies awake,
Waiting for an end
To this longing
My eyes,
Don't give any answers
To your questions of belonging
Where are we?
Am I with you?
Only if I knew,
I'd tell you too!
If loving her wasn't a crime,
Why do I still feel like I'm doing time?
Am I a prisoner of my own desires?
Maybe I am following a light,
A junction from where I took right
Some days I'm just chasing a high,
Is it just some words arranged tight
Or is it chastising yourself through the night?
For when the sun is shining bright,
I love taking my emotions for a flight.
I'm not hunting for any limelight,
Nor do I have any foresight.
I'm just driving through the misery and the plight,
Knowing I will always stop at a red light
Like a deer in the headlights
I'm trying to be my self-guiding light,
Try as I might.
Sometimes we don't even need a reason, but for days when the reasoning is strong, it must be upheld and respected. Cheers to all kinds of poets :)
Watching the world
Pass me by,
Through the window of
A moving vehicle
I'm a passenger
But this imagery feels like the movies,
Where some serendipitous event happens
At this very moment,
When you are pondering over life
Through your little window
You wake up to realize that this is the real-life
A journey with random stops,
Varied stories,
Vivid dreams,
But unlike life, there's a fixed destination
To that journey
While life is more of an endless cesspool
Of unrelated chaos
The destination is not etched into your hands,
The destination is what you make of it
Well, maybe there is no point
In trying to get all the answers to my questions
It took me a while to figure out how
It ain't all that bad,
How I'm happy and glad
For the good times that I've had
Not all-in for always living in the moment,
Just trying to live more in the good ones
Destiny and life go hand-in-hand
Maybe I should not let my life go bland
I should take decisions and actions,
Rather than waiting for the signs that I can understand.
For things that may come and go,
words will always be there to make you flow;
For though the words make things easier,
emotions are still on show.
Only words are constant, everything else just flows.
Greatness isn't for those,
Who gets satisfied merely by seeing their old work
And think 'This is it!'
But instead for those who observe their own work,
And think 'I wonder how I can top this'.
Being a born genius would have been great, life would have been somewhat simpler - maybe, who knows?

But since it is not, we might as well learn and improve ourselves on this journey - the payoff would be much better. Maybe, who knows?
I don't know if I've seen a lot
But seems that I've seen enough,
It's hard to find good people
As hard it is to find good love.

Maybe the world's crashing,
Hence everyone seems cruel
The world is ending,
And everyone's fighting their own duel.

It's hard to trust people,
But much harder is to trust yourself
Maybe there is a way out of this,
Where I don't end up by myself.

I've been carrying this load,
On what was once my light shoulders,
They just seem rugged now,
That the world has turned colder.

Once a virtue of kindness
Spread like a wildfire in my heart,
Tried to be kind once,
But the world tore me apart.

What did I learn so far?
In life, there are no two ways,
There is only one
Would you believe in God if I asked you to pray?

Pray for your soul,
Pray for your temptations,
Pray for all those souls
That desperately seek salvation.
Strange times but stranger human behaviour.
there's a fight
outside,
but also
within me
who will win today?
will I be cheerful or despondent,
hopeful or sans it,
I just wish to
win over yesterday
for it is
my enemy.
we go on,
somehow,
someway.
living in a way to
avoiding the word failure
in your epitaph,
for a foreseeable reward in heaven,
is like walking on eggshells
without ever breaking out of your own shell.
The fear of failure is worse than actual failure. Failure teaches you to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and have another shot.

The context seems rather relevant now with what has happened this year.
Here's to hoping you never give up and find the strength to start again.

— The End —