Circles...

Running on the trace of rings;
I end up from where I begin.
The winds tousle the hair;
As you lose a sight that’s clear.
No sense of direction;
Circles; give you chance for correction.
All points are so same;
This won’t stop; a choking train.
I revolve;
To absolve;
In Every chance again;
I absorb;
And a resolve
To let it flow; without refrain.
Once a lost chance;
But no disdain;
A beating heart;
Just can’t be sprained.
Its circle;
I revolve and the world unfurls;
Its circle;
I revolve and the logic is churned.

So, I am here again;
Arriving back to where I began.
But for there is attraction;
I run to reach there;
Even when all the steps integrate;
The distance is same from everywhere.
The centre; it can’t be reached.
The boundary, it can’t be breached.
And it’s a circle;
The centre can’t be reached;
It’s a fate;
To circulate this crate;
But don’t fret;
When the trend amend;
You aren’t cognizant
That you head for the start
The subtle variations;
Oh! These circles are smart.

I am trapped;
In these laps;
But those who run in straight lines;
Are also just wandering with radius infinite;
They too are prisoners of their own device.
But yeah! This flow I rejoice
For its circle and I won’t come out of spin
That its circle; I will end up from where I begin.

Flowing in the Sinous Trendzzz

For past month I am stuck with this term....... "Flowing in the sinuous trends".
It happens to me... sticking with a term....deciphering it..sucking it out....... with out much juice....... and find myself panting heavily standing at the same place from where I had started..... A Circular tread.........
Truly circles fascinate me....You can run thousand of miles but still be at the same place. But isnt this true with every enclosed figure.......yeah for sure..... but circle deceives in direction.......you never know...never realize when you are heading back to the same spot, again and again........and again.

Well coming again to Sinuous Trends....... I always have a feeling of wierd similarity with Nehru's Emotion......." Alien in foriegn and having a feeling of exile in one's own country". Never able to settle where ever I go, never able to understand rather......... Never could assimilate with the surroundings...... never could flow with the stream ...closing eyes, enjoying the ride. That's why flowing in these sinuous streams. The truth is its hard to assimilate in this country, as a whole. Its vast. And the question that bothers me is whats the factor that binds it? What binds this great country of ours? There is a spirit, a common spirit which I can feel but cant point my finger to. May be the reason is I havent moved much. For the first 22 yrs of my life i was up in north...not knowing much about the other parts. But then I moved; saw karnataka, orissa and Maharastra. and they are different. The landscapes are different, the languages are different and the lifestyle, the people are different. I respect and love this diversity. So many different curries. But hey man! there should be some common points for this country. A rice or a chappati to eat it all. I believe that there is, but.....I dont know what are they........ thats why flowing in these sinuous trends.

There is lot to discover...in my vicinity. Too much of work and too less time. I will write soon of the discoveries....and where I reach flowing in these SINUOUS TRENDS.
Just hoping these circles turn into a helical structure. If not in the other two dimension then atleast I should rise in "Heights".

And Yes! I Saw JAb we Met again yesterday.Nice movie. Nothing special about it, but nice. The early Aditya.....umm that guy reminds me of someone close.

Cheers....

How I Grow !!

Somebody asked” How you grow?”
What to answer? I don’t know.

How I grow up?
How I live my life everyday?
I sit for a while;
And then walk up my way.

The other day I saw a boy on the street;
His body was naked; so were his feet.
His eyes were blank; holding more darkness than the night sky.
Begging for a life; a life where everyday he don’t have to die.

I felt no pain;
No feeling of shame.

At night, I saw in a dark lane,
There were cries for help, somebody was being slain.
I felt no anger neither an urge to retort.
Oh! What can I do? In my whole life I have never fought.

Then I went to bed and have a sound sleep.
I made no commitments, no promises that I have to keep.

In this way I grow; with my body and with my brains.
Unaffected by the plight of poor and cries of pain.

That is the way I grow;
I don’t steal, I don’t borrow.
But neither do I give;
And no! I don’t live.

I feel no pain, no sorrow;
Look through my eyes; deep inside I am hollow.




The reality that has always haunted my psyche. Growing up with brains and body but how much we grow to help and to help whom? Who deserve the help? what's the criterion?

This piece, I wrote at around 3a.m. A guy in a movie said "Look inside my eyes , I am hollow"... that rang through my intellect. isnt that what I am growing into....someone too hollow to fill any space.

Dreams

DREAMS

Ethereal;
Too empyrean to be real;
But I deem; for it’s my dream.
I flow in sinuous trends,
In the hidden shades sun gleam,
And I rule; it’s my realm.
Muffle screams;
Let’s cheer; it’s my dream.

*******************

A cream colored shore;
And froth by side.
Senile sun; effete.
Efface, by night.
Resplendent road painted cerise;
And a rollercoaster ride.
The stars rain
With sun and moon as alibi;
Over the infinite desert
Lay trace of incessant times.

****************
The urchins dance
With ardent drills;
Sleight dance
In rainbow spring;
Vapid milieu ring
With ebullient chimes,
Éclat faces glitter,
And wallow in hallowed hymns.

***************

A gossamer bird,
With splendor wings;
Scorched in the flames;
The old skin was fling.
The phoenix rise again,
Higher, in adverse gale;
Now the hue is brighter.
Resplendence of daze;
For the insipidity parched
Over the brutality of blaze;

*****************


These images;
They haunt my fears.
These dreams tell;
A smile can dwell
along with tears.
I am glad;
For the dreams I have.

So, you don’t peek through my vista;
And wake me up from the perennial siesta
Screech,
“Somnolent creep”,
It’s just a dream; just a dream.