Do you really need a title?

Munh ki baat sune har koi
Dil ke dard ko jaane kaun...
Aawazon ke baazaaron mein
Khamoshi pehchaane kaun...

Amen.

Babe,
I do not know where to begin.Or rather how.I have never been a person of smooth beginnings and sound endings.It was always the middle ground I liked.But when I see you, in all your glory, I fall short of words; short of phrases to describe you, short of sentences to please you.I remember the way your shirt was crumpled the day before, it looked like you just got out of bed.Your greasy, messy hair, begging to be touched atleast once, if not ruffled.You incite so many feelings in me in a single instant, I'm scared of what I might do if I stay closer to you any longer.You lean in towards me, to catch a sentence I've been saying.And my voice quivers with intensity as I try hard not to bite your ear.My legs feel weak, my breathing faster.I know, love, that you feel nothing this intense, not for me, not for anyone you've known.You are cold, indifferent and, in your own words, too laidback.

Make all excuses you want, you will know one day, some day, the heat in my skin when I look at you.You don't know what passion is?Let my tongue outline it for you, on the pink borders of your nicotine lips.Let my hair leave little trails of goosebumps on the delectable muscle of your chest.Let my hands do the talking for the intentions I have for you in my mind.Your voice rings musically in my ears, your surprisingly soft touch makes me anticipate, more and more.Keep telling yourself you won't fall into this, darling.Surrender your body to me, just for a day.It doesn't take too long to feel alive.

My obsession for you borders on unhealthy, I know.Is it scary?I know your answer already.But know this too, you're marked.You can run away but you can't hide too long.My muse, don't you know it yet?

P.S-Tell me it din't turn you on.

-Crazed.

Must listen...

Lyrics:

Aah ko chaahiye ik umr asar hone tak
kaun jeetaa hai tere zulf ke sar hone tak

Aashiqui sabr-talab aur tamannaa betaab
dil kaa kyaa rang karuuN Khuunejigar hone tak

Ham ne maanaa ke taGaaful na karoge lekin
khaak ho jaayenge ham tumko Khabar hone tak


Gham-e-hastii kaa 'Asad' kis se ho juz marg ilaaj
shamm'a har rang men jalatii hai sehar hone tak.


It's just too beautiful to be written about.Revelling in its beauty...

Randomania!

roof, hazy stars, amavasya, phone calls, midnight conversations, mushroom soup, Hyundai Santro, coloured font on Yahoo Messenger, Kurt Cobain, cousins, friends, friends' cousins, accountability, betta, college trip, 30 minutes, complement, colour, black, 3 30am, free messages, ex boyfriends, ex girlfriends, lost times, damsels, immigrant song, black, tired eyes, dirty feet, pedicures, Kriti, laughter, espresso, tears, red noses, awkward dinners, missed out lunches, confused feelings, moving on, goodbyes, trains, late arrivals, sad departures, black jacket, long fingers, no replies, unsaid, half said, fragments, Kannika, lazy conversations, mutual excitements, bad choices, choices, options, admirers, muses, fiction, movies, before sunrise, poetry, art, beauty, life?, being me.

P.S- It's not supposed to make sense to the reader. If it does, it's eerie!

Song of the soul...

In the depth of my soul there is
A wordless song - a song that lives
In the seed of my heart.
It refuses to melt with ink on
Parchment; it engulfs my affection
In a transparent cloak and flows,
But not upon my lips.

How can I sigh it?
I fear it may
Mingle with earthly ether;
To whom shall I sing it? It dwells
In the house of my soul, in fear of
Harsh ears.

When I look into my inner eyes
I see the shadow of its shadow;
When I touch my fingertips
I feel its vibrations.

The deeds of my hands heed its
Presence as a lake must reflect
The glittering stars; my tears
Reveal it, as bright drops of dew
Reveal the secret of a withering rose.

It is a song composed by contemplation,
And published by silence,
And shunned by clamor,
And folded by truth,
And repeated by dreams,
And understood by love,
And hidden by awakening,
And sung by the soul.

It is the song of love;
What Cain or Esau could sing it?

It is more fragrant than jasmine;
What voice could enslave it?

It is heartbound, as a virgin’s secret;
What string could quiver it?

Who dares unite the roar of the sea
And the singing of the nightingale?

Who dares compare the shrieking tempest
To the sigh of an infant?

Who dares speak aloud the words
Intended for the heart to speak?

What human dares sing in voice
The song of God?

- Khalil Gibran

Sensory association.

Sounds like a neurological term, innit?Well, don't worry, I won't bore you more than usual.I'm totally blanked out right now and hence will apologise in advance for any unintended grammatical or factual errors.This idea about writing how I remember things based on smells and sounds occurred to me last evening when I sprayed on my Nike and instantly remembered someone.I took this timepass test on blogthings.com which gave me the result that I appreciate and understand sounds much better than other senses.Smell came in a close second.Ironically I suffer from sinusitis in cold temperatures leaving my nose and ears blocked.Fascinating, I know.Anyway, leaving gooey matters behind, I discovered that the results were quite accurate.I usually tend to associate certain songs to certain people, certain smells to certain periods of my life.It's not that uncommon, I know.But just the idea of how a melody can transport you back in time or how a whiff of a familiar fragrance can cause pangs of lust, pain or nostalgia is so, forgive me for the blunt delivery, so poetic.The thought of an expression of a memory in wordless subtlety is just too beautiful.Inexplicably, the smell of Sunsilk black shampoo transports me to my 10th std. school days, the smell of clinic plus to summer holidays as a kid, the smell of rain always reminds me of him and that trip to Dharwad, the sound of the Santana song 'Smooth' reminds me of this guy I had a crush on(who turned out to be phenomenally dumb by the way) and at present, the song 'Hazaaro khwaishein aisi...' reminds me of this person who is kinda like my current muse :).If the said person is reading this, feel flattered and do not forget to thank me later.Every single day turns out to give me excuses to say "Do you remember...?" or smiling to myself when I'm alone in the remembrances.Oh, by the way, my handwriting slants towards the left(my brother terms my handwriting as the 'most unscientific handwriting he ever lay his eyes upon') which supposedly implies that I live in the past or think about it way too much.I couldn't agree more.
So if you have special sounds, sights or tastes, please go ahead and share.Maybe they'll help me remember you :)

Untitled

One single line has been repeating in my mind over and over again, like a record stuck on a gramophone.What kind of a sick, sadistic bastard is God?I know, I'm not supposed to swear or whatever shit people expect, but I don't think anyone could have escaped this thought if they went through the situation that I did today.I was feeling low the entire morning actually, I don't know the reason(as always!) and I was mentally very exhausted.But then, this happened, which had the potential to move me to tears scarily soon and to push me into extreme rage against this blaring injustice.My cousin, Disha, is ill.As I have mentioned in an earlier post, she has a neurological disorder which allows her no form of normal expression.The details are too harsh to be written about again.She is admitted right now with something undiagnosed, yet.She has a temperature of 103F and has been shivering, chills running through her now skin-and-bones body with a drip attached to her which looks painful.And she can't even tell what she feels.I stood there as my aunt(Disha's mother) had dozed off even as she held Disha's hand to comfort her convulsions.No amount of words can explain the pain as you watch a 13 year old child screaming in agony.And all you can do is just avert your gaze or hold her hand.I was totally choked with emotions as my mind went numb.I hid my face and cried silently.My aunt just held Disha's hand with indifference.Yes, that's indifference for you.When sorrow's boundaries have been transcended and philosophy can go to the crapper for all I care, when a mother holds her child's hand with no feeling expressed on her prematurely old face, believe me, nothing is sadder, nothing puts perspective more into place.People talk about how we have to accept the 'will of God', how religion will redeem us and how we must be thankful for whatever we have.Yes, I have read about it and that was my belief too.But now, as I watched this emotionally indescribable scene enacted by the people dear to me, supposedly scripted and directed by the 'puppet master', all that changed.What fault is so grave that a child this beautiful deserves to be punished for?What is my aunt's fault that she has to witness this mutely?Who decides what?I couldn't bear to stand in the room.The smell of the hospital disinfectant made me nauseous and as angry thoughts swirled in my numb head, I stood outside in the corridor.I watched this couple walking out of another ward.Soundlessly, their hands found each others' and they held them tenderly.It made me smile.The hope and romance that died in me a few minutes ago awakened a tad bit again as I watched them walk towards a God's idol and join their hands in prayer.It made me realise that maybe, maybe we are all moving towards nothingness.The big zero.Mahashunya.Maybe the shit God gives people, the agonies we face is cancelled out with the hope and love around and we come to nought, every single day.I guess it's a Buddhist concept, I've heard of it before.And today's incident made me want to believe in that.
I know that me writing about this in no way relieves Disha's pain or bring back the life in my aunt's empty eyes.But I observe, and write yet again.Pray for Disha's speedy recovery.