The Circus.

He asks If the Dentist was cute, while giving out his irresistible smile. Not as cute as you are, I said to myself 

Some stay for less some stay longer, but the law of impermanence prevails.

All that you spew is just honey in guise of venom. 

Just say it once, he says. My tongue feels like cotton after I utter those words after months. Does that happen to a pinocchio-girl when she lies?

It felt good 3 days consecutively, I must be doing something right. oh wait, it did not feel good today. Regression code activated. *hums the comfort zone theme*

I am just not good enough for you. The better one is just round the corner.

Its never enough. The time I spend with you is never enough.

Not sure what is worse,being lectured to over and over ,or repeating oneself for the other to understand over and over,latter IMO 

The water pellets in your saucer like iris, exemplifies your innocence.

Once a side-kick, always a side-kick. That’s what I am.

My last words will be : I shall return.

Never really made the effort to understand some people.

Woke up teary eyed, sleeping teary eyed. Somethings will never change. But hey, it was the filling that was brilliant.

I try to to be an adult and cover my slightest of wounds, but the child in me yelps out at every little pinch after a sheltered hug.

Someone once told me there is no such thing as a selfless act, because that is also very much selfish. It is a vicious cycle.

I will never be able to redeem myself for the mistakes i have made. Sinners don’t stand a chance. 

Its funny how what once would have brought an eager smile now just brings a sad smile. I am sorry. 

Humari adhuri kahani . 

It was all so perfect,  then she creeps in. 

I can never relay your epicness to anyone, like she can. 

What a pity, this will just evaporate in thin air, then there will be no flame left any longer, only loose dead embers will remain.

I hope, one day you will look at the jewel studded Sky and remember Me. I know I will.

Every new Year, it must suck that The distance of time broadens between the both of you. 

She didn’t fit in, yet she rehearsed with them for the dance practice. He had no place to go, had to sod out with the weird lot, but at least he had his pencil and sketch book.

She was waiting by the Principal’s room. She had been threatened by the professor. “I’ll ruin your career”, he had said.  Just then, one of the guys approached her. “It was me, the messages to you the last couple of days, was sent by me, Please don’t complain. She bursts out laughing.

Wounds never heal with time. It gets surpassed by the agonizing pain of fresher wounds.

Know what it feels like to be the second fiddle. didle. widdle.

Dear M. I will fight you till the end. I can’t kill you, but fight I will.

She, dressed in baby pink was a joke and no way could she be the girl in hot pink, for him. 

How can something hurt so much? this much? Why?Not sure if I will survive it. laughing is good. 

18 homes in 28 years. I am tired.  I want one home,  one man, one child, one bed.

She is physically not present, but her footsteps follow them and she looms at their table throughout dinner. She is quiet while he is on her phone.

…he kisses her hand,and then everything is forgotten, he is her drug.  She is his toy.

I thawed, then sooner than I could reason I was there simmering in your arms. Its only time that I will soon melt away. Need to bask in the cold in order to preserve my heart. 
 
Sometimes  all you want is a friend to talk to, that’s when you have a draft folder to the rescue. 

…he kisses her hand,and then everything is forgotten, he is her drug.  She is his toy. *Repeat*

She is trying to fix him up with her. After she has finished talking on the phone she looks at him and gives him a victorious smile, his expression towards her softens.

Every girl he talks to or tries to get close to, a hook up in her head is fragmented. She detests the insecurity that seeps into her. A lifelong battle.

MESSED UP

Numerous plans go unexecuted

The effort of planning wasted

Not once, not twice

Times that can be counted

More than the years gone by…

Here I stand on the threshold

Of adulthood, not knowing

If my dreams are for real

Even after all these years

They are still a pigment of surreal

They say follow your dreams

That’s what I’m welt upon

Like how a leather belt remains attached on a boot

Or a shoe

But Reality comes hitting on me

Like a turbulence that’s caused,

Weakens the hold, unleashing the

Imprisoned yarn back to its original form

I’m left to myself wondering

Will this ever stop?

Or is it a broken record that

Ceases to never go off?

I wake up renewed

At times dejected

But it’s a feeling

That never seems to rest

So many roads so many lanes

I book a plane ticket and

I miss the train

Yet it is just anticipation and the wait

But planning never fails

Only, that it always turns out to be too late…

Fogged by these thoughts

Things that have to be done

Remains slightly touched

Today little & tomorrow more, but is a

Time that never really comes

Have I delved too much into complacency?

That it has savored my immunity

For not bringing out my ingenuity

To the pinnacle of my expectations

That would have lead to mental prosperity?

I’m left to myself pondering & wallowing…

Until the dark fades away to bring in another day of pursuing

The very purpose of my being to succeed after failing

Yes, I’m waiting.

They say be positive

They say work hard

The yarn never transforms

‘Oh, maybe you didn’t work hard enough’,

They effortlessly say

Oh yes you must be crazy to

Say I’m not an optimist…

But sure to say I’ve turned a realist

The lines on my palms are all

Curled in my fist

…I’ve succumbed to destiny’s hit list!

A poem written by me on 2 january 2006, found it in my old email inbox …. still scourging through , to find some more …

Deep in my heart that aches with the repression,
And strives with plenitude of bitter pain,
There lives a thought that clamors for expression,
And spends its undelivered force in vain.

What boots it that some other may have thought it?
The right of thoughts’ expression is divine;
The price of pain I pay for it has bought it,
I care not who lays claim to it—‘t is mine!

And yet not mine until it be delivered;
The manner of its birth shall prove the test.
Alas, alas, my rock of pride is shivered—
I beat my brow—the thought still unexpressed.

Found this in one of my old email inboxes….

Was searching for the poems i had written, found this instead.  A Beautiful Expression … 

The picture supporting this post was shot in an art exhibition, at the entrance… A marvelous art piece to the eye, but like any other …. the interpretation is varied and left to the viewer. On the same note…Would Like to add, it is quite straight forward, In the sense, how abstract can a run down car with stuff piled on it be anyway? This to me is straight out of the sets of a Pedro Almodovar movie.

From where I come from, The word ‘settle down’ is uttered right when you hit your mid teens and reaches a higher octave as each year passes by. By now my mind has accepted the terminology and ignores it effortlessly.  People around me have in turn accepted (i assume so) that it does not work for me . I  am a wanderer in all respect, restless and on the move. This can also mean, I don’t generally find any solutions or too lazy to apply it but prefer to run away . Cowardly? Yes, but what is funny is, nothing else changes but the circumstances, and by the time you  put an end to it you are out of there and …on the run…. yet again… and on it goes, thereby accumulating ‘baggage’ that you refuse to throw.

Well, that’s what I would like to think, not? The pillars in the image was constructed into the frame on either side of the car intentionally after a couple of compositions without them, as an after-thought…depicting my view , which is: even though a part of me thinks/is probably on the run, I am stalled by certain responsibilities…

Years go by and you have had so many thoughts and ideas that just go wasted. You initiate a project and leave it unfinished. A Bug has evolved and it latches on to you like a parasite- The Procrastination Bug. 

The Circus, is one of the few things I have procrastinated. As you grow older, You prioritize the # of things to do on your list. The list is Endless. Work, hunger and sleep becomes your only priorities, leaving everything else to lie in a pile of dust…