Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Moving On

Life is non stop drama And the catch word is ,' Moving On.'

Today, we are smitten by our recent cricket victories. Tomorrow, we will be horrified by the Politics Of Scams. The Day After , we will be besotted, with a new social collaboration site to connect on.


Everyday, Someone, Something, New to love, to hate, to get obsessed with. Thakela nahi mangtha!!

And what of the past? Does celebration of nostalgia only have it's place, in regional movies by pseudo-intellectual directors? Is everything about the past , all about the goodbye? I don't have the answers, because I embraced 'moving on' with such fervour that I have lost the claim ticket for yesterday's baggage.

It may be an escape mechanism, i may be irresponsible. It's not easy, that's for sure! Yesterday, visits me everyday. In my dreams, the way i laugh, the values that mould me, the truths i believe in.

So, this is how i deal with it......

I forget my old circumstances, But I cling on to those lunatics who for some reason are still celebrating my birthday.

I dont crib about my lack or luck in life , But allow myself to laugh at the havoc that i have spread, whenever i have suffered from existential angst.

I let go of all my old loves, But whenever it rains , i relive those moist moments of Being, as verse for new poetry.


I forgive my past and all the people who never believed in me, Because though i wasn't born with balls,just look at the steel ones, they helped me craft. I laugh With,For, & At Yesterday

Because it has taught me to brew vintage wine from the grapes of wrath. What other skill is there worth learning?


Salut! To Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow. To All Time For That Matter. The trick , is to Ride the circle , not Walk the Bloody line..

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Summer Again

Still , silent summer
The noisy city bedecked with
silent motionless flowers
whose colour can only be described as
transparent blush
Lat summer i had time
time to notice the camel's bells
As it offered joyful rides
to the children down the road
Last summer i had time
time to write poetry on ashphalt
This summer i am
Untouched by the heat,
or by the victorious cricketing India
This summer i suffer
The patterns of every day work and life
I search the sky for one rain cloud
for dissent , for fury, for action
For release from this stillness
This encompassing quite of a summer
I search for freedom from
The Summer Of My Life