Showing posts with label English. Show all posts
Showing posts with label English. Show all posts

March 4, 2021

The Last Color

 'The Last Color' is a canvas depicting the colourless lives of the protagonists, presented in a bichrome of white and gulabi (Indian pink/fuschia) — their innocence simplicity and emotions, all pure as white — their dreams, aspirations, emotions coveting to be clad in the gulabi, the bright, bold tone symbolising perhaps, the bold dreams that the meek white and the colourless seek to (and dare to) dream of...embrace against the odds of a set up, a society that has long decided that their likes be devoid of colour.


The film unfolds in flashback and traces the lives of its protagonists — a Hindu widow, a Dalit street urchin, a brutalised eunuch, and a continually berated wife — all walking the tight rope of dereliction, penury, and abuse that society has relegated them to.  'The Last Colour' in its not so subtle depiction of depravity is also a tale of the infant new world enkindling hope in bright "gulabi" hues into the lives long deprived of them.

Chhoti (the nine-year-old Dalit urchin uninhibited and emboldened by life's injustices) and her unlikely friendship with Noor (the gracious, shy, white-clad widow, depicted in all her innocence); Chintu, (Chhoti’s nine-year old best friend, the real 'man', whose dreams circle around sending Chhoti to school; his love so pure, writ large in his eyes, his expression) and Anarkali, (the oft brutalised eunuch with the heart warming motherly endowments on Chhoti) are all endearing beyond description. While all these characters are dissimilar on the surface, they are tied together with a common thread. Their bond emanates a warmth, honesty, and spontaneity that resonate with the viewer. Their affections keep the torch of hope alight in the face of the all-pervasive darkness that threatens to drown them at all times. So does the silent endurance of the wife whose personal hell encourages her to ensure a better future for 'her' daughters and emboldens her reluctance to beget a son for fear of bringing a brute into the world.

The film is essentially a comment on the ancient tradition of abandoning widows in Varanasi to fend for themselves and die, weathered by societal norms and customs. It references the Supreme Court of India’s landmark judgement in August 2012 that sought the rehabilitation and empowerment of Hindu widows, following which they celebrated their first Holi in March 2013. Thus, lending a positivity to the scenario, and a much required iteration to the judgement.

Subtle and soulful, this screen adaptation of Celebrity Chef Vikas Khanna’s novel ‘The Last Color’ (directed by Khanna himself), is an iteration that filmmaking is also about making the canvas look appealing to the eye while bringing home what's not so gentle to the heart and surely is unsettling to the brain. The film is loaded with great optimism; its mellow-starkness vibrating the right chords that culminate in Khanna's beautiful invocation of Tagore’s iconic poem, “Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high…”, as the end credits begin to roll.

Painted thus, at the same time, in bold colours and subtle hues that together uphold the truth about human vices and virtues, in all its might, ‘The Last Color’ has every quality of pure cinema that can endure the test of time. It makes a point quite convincingly that filmmaking is not just about making things big and grand by being presented in all starkness. Khanna treats his protagonists with rare subtlety and sensitivity, lending the feel and flavor of an unrehearsed spontaneity to them. Their heartwarming relationships serve to liberate them from their sorrows yet keep them grounded. He extracts genuine emotions out of the actors, and in turn, of the viewers, emphasizing through it all, the value of life and the preciousness of every breath.

February 24, 2021

Rubber Duck Debugging

I recently came across this interesting debugging technique named 'Rubber Duck Debugging'. The name is a reference from the book 'The Pragmatic Programmer' by Andrew Hunt and David Thomas, in which a programmer is able to debug a code by explaining it line-by-line, to a rubber duck.

Though this was not exactly an 'Aha! effect' for me, it did set some curious nerve tingling, prompting me to read on and ponder over it.

“A very simple but particularly useful technique for finding the cause of a problem is simply to explain it to someone else… They do not need to say a word: the simple act of explaining, step by step, what the code is supposed to do often causes the problem to leap off the screen and announce itself.”

Verbalizing our assumptions, forces an evaluation from different perspectives and can provide a deeper understanding of the problem because it forces us to pay attention to detail. As a result, we may immediately gain some new insight into the problem.

So is the case with teaching a subject. Teaching a concept to another person (or even "the Rubber Duck") is one of the most effective ways to grasp it. One may then say, "a coworker might be able to substitute for the duck". However, many a times teaching a rubber duck may be more useful than explaining to a colleague, because suggestions from a colleague may lead to distractions or digressions, making it harder to solve the problem. Hence, the 'Rubber Duck'.

The technique touches on the cognitive science behind this phenomenon. When we think to ourselves, our brain is locked in a symbolic representation mode of thinking and uses only single sets of neural pathways and neural processes. This tends to keep us in a repetitive mode, leading us into a loop. Instead, if we actually say it out loud, this activates entirely different regions of the brain, taking totally different pathways. So, saying something out loud is more impactful than just running it over in the head.

Evaluating from different perspectives gives us a better/deeper understanding. This is why, when we’re trying to learn something difficult or complex, activating as many different neural pathways as we possibly can, helps strengthen memory and establish connection with the concept. This is why hand-writing notes is more effective than just simply listening or typing them.

And this brings us back to the Rubber Duck Debugging concept (or simply, Rubber Ducking)! By explaining things out loud, we’re not only using different sets of pathways and processes in the brain, but also filling in the gaps in our reasoning and assumptions. Thus the act of explaining the problem step by step, to the 'Duck', makes the solution present itself. The concept can be extrapolated and applied to other tasks such as revising for exams, preparing presentations and editing essays. Reading an essay out loud, for instance, can help one decide whether the sentences are grammatically correct and whether the essay flows well.

Here's to teaching rubber ducks!


June 7, 2019

Our Sun -- An Elegy


Cold!
Cold was thy brow to touch,
No warm hand anymore,
For us to clutch!

No sun did set,
Nor rose a moon.
We came to thee but
Thou hath left er too soon!

We grope for thee,
Oh, Thou art gone!
Er we saw,
Thou had passed on!

All hope dashed
It's now just tears
Unhealed hearts,
For years...and years!

Oh, come back Thee!
We pine, we long.
Come sing to us
Just one more song!

Sweet smiles no more.
No more thy touch!
No warm hand
For us to clutch!

No light anymore
No peace, just tears.
No light anymore
Our Sun, thou hast set!

August 1, 2015

A history buried unrecorded.

Our Moon Has Blood Clots: A Memoir of a Lost Home in Kashmir - A Review

The Memoir by Rahul Pandita, is a tale less told, that deserves much telling!

It needs much telling, in fact, to complete a picture, one aspect of which we have all (well, most of us) missed, or sought for and not found. The aspect none in the valley lets you in on...the tale there's none in the valley to tell - The tale of the mass exodus and genocide of the Pandits from Kashmir valley. One million Kashmiri Pandits!

The story as told by a boy in a refugee camp, brings forth glimpses of how the race that left its homes and hearths and riches all behind, fends for its daily sustenance, in the paucity, rather absence even of the basic necessities of cleanliness and cover. His 'sharing of half a tomato with another boy, as their share of vegetable distribution for the day, for these 'refugees' to bring home and cook for the family', is heart breaking!
Pandita's deeply personal observation and unforgettable accounts of the scattered dreams and families, of lost identities and homes...and families; and the still alive slivers of hopes of rehabilitation and being reconciled to the homeland and the identities, are no less heart wrenching than the brutal murders and rapes and kidnappings and treachery meted out to this race, for its 'brethren' of yore sought ethnic cleansing. Their hearts icier than the snow they colored in gore!

25 years since, and this receding of an entire 'people' into oblivion in the name of Jihad, still seeks to come out into the light of the day, garbed as is with its faran (robe) still reeking fresh of the communal stain that has oft been blanketed under mantles ranging from ignorance to complacence (deliberate or unconscious) to conspiracy theories, on the part of the intellectuals, the media, the intelligentsia...the country!

Rahul Pandita's was one among thousands of Kashmiri Pandit families forced to leave their homes in Srinagar, in 1990, when he was 14 years old. His first hand account of the travails of his family and his kin is a window into the annals of the history of Kashmiri Pandits.

September 15, 2014

Ah! Train

Sounds travel from such distances,
As you wouldn't travel again.
"You never come to see us now.
So we bring you back some train."

He hugged you tight, kissed your head,
And he boarded his train.
"My love, I'll see you soon."
And he never came again.

Sounds travel from such distances,
As you wouldn't travel again.
"You bring him back to my life!
Now I can't sleep, Ah! Train!"

Sounds traveled from such distances,
As you wouldn't travel again.
"You never come to see us now...
So we brought you back that train."

September 8, 2014

Busy...


Eyes on target, mouth's but a straight line;
Body and heart and soul all alike unwound.
Busy is the world as it goes,
For riches, and success, and pursuits abound.

"Friends, and love...and life, o' wait!
I'm headed for the stars, be back in no time.
Friends, and love...and life, o' wait!
Will see you here, when I touch the ground"

Busy is the world for it goes around.
To riches, and success, and pursuits abound.

January 19, 2013

Dare I say?

Why do movies with item numbers make a bigger dent on the box office? Why does an item number always make it, even if the movie bombs? Why do movies 'have' item numbers, to begin with?
Right! We all have the answer...

There's no denying that we are a country of the masses, and are we talking masses around, these days?

Well, ours is a closed society, a closed culture, where most of the population still is far far from the 'urban' world. Here most families still have their daughters clad from head to toe, tucked into the deeper recesses of their homes--literate or not...sheltered, 'protected'!

Yes, ours is a closed society, a closed culture, but the fabric isn't sturdy as new anymore! It's not without peep holes!

What's all this here, about?

Well, aren't there guys that say why they 'enjoy' women's tennis games on TV? Or that they find dogs better off for their just whenever...with just 'whoever' advantage?

Oh yea! We are a closed society, a closed culture still, but not without these peep holes--the tennis in shortest of short skirts, the item numbers...the count just begins here!

It's the beginning of transition...a journey that's never easy! We have cities with their upcoming urbans juxtaposed with the 'not urban yet', still...and there have to be consequences!


Just the other day there was report of some north Indian states having a high ratio of crimes with a sexual orientation, and a low women to men ratio. Well, isn't the picture clear then? Do we need everything said out loud and clear?!


A closed patriarchal society, with members among the masses who excite at the sight of mere mini skirts in a game of tennis, teased by the likes of item numbers and left to fend for themselves...

Oh yea, there's people being heard saying girls have to be more clad, and not instigate crimes against them...and there's ridicule of it! But let's look at it. It's not all baseless! Yes, there are such crimes against fully clad women, and even little girls, then aren't the less clad ones easier targets, given that they would excite fancies easier?! No! We definitely aren't talking 'rights' here!

Ours has been a land of segregation, of purdah (veil) for many a century, and it's bound to enrage the the guardians of such a society, to see the purdahs being discarded...well, have we ever thought why this purdah even came into being, in the first place? No, I'm no advocate of it...of anything, nor a critic!

Well, why did women start 'jauhars'? Oh yea, they did it on their own...the cause, the reason not being 'their own' of course!

If we come to asking questions, there would be no end to it! Did we ever think, 'when it's between kings and kingdoms, why do the women of the overtaken almost always have to pay the price with their honour'? Be it a holocaust, an army siege...no matter what!

Well, for that matter, why do some countries need extreme punishments such as stoning to death/hanging for crimes against women?

It all needs to be thought through, and thought well...

April 12, 2012

On a journey...

On a journey  to far away,
nothing to hold on to, Ah! No crutch!

Somewhere out there to perch,
beyond all reach and of touch.

View what befalls the sight,
too far to see, or say much.

On a journey  to far away,
beyond all reach and of touch.

Embark, head on to,
no step to fall in with, no hand to clutch.

Somewhere out there to perch,
too far to be seen, or to touch.

On a journey  to far away,
nothing to hold on to, Ah! No crutch!

February 23, 2012

I am...what you made me...eh life!

I signed up for NCC (National Cadet Corps) during my three years of graduation, my first step towards making it to the Republic Day Camp (RDC), at New Delhi (the Mecca for all NCC cadets). One and a half year of rigorous training and loads of hard work bore fruit, and I made it to the RDC. While at the Pre-RD camps I signed up also, for YEP--which meant I would be one of the cadets from India, to represent her in the country I would be sent to, as an 'Exchange Participant', IF selected, of course! Yes, YEP meant Youth Exchange Programme. YEP definitely would be not just a(nother) feather in the cap, but also the bigger and more vibrant one. So, the entire group of YEP signees were on the most serious mission of their lives--being selected! Losing a few hours of sleep each day, in the name of tests and discussions for preparation didn't look like much of a sacrifice!

So, the day soon arrived, a couple of months post RDC, when all the efforts and hard work bore an excellent fruit, and the best news of my life, ever, arrived...yes! I was selected for the ICYEP (Indo-Canada Youth Exchange Programme)! "Seven months on the Programme!" My elation knew no bounds! For, ICYEP is a prestigious cultural exchange programme for the youth (the best of NCC's YEPs), where in the NCC cadets are are looked up to, to represent the beautiful culture called India, in its entirety! My elation and all that is another journey of course, and I would rather not venture on to that road, here...

A couple of months of preparation, and we were all set to go! Two teams of twenty five cadets each. One headed to Toronto, the other, to Vancouver. I went to Vancouver, and never came back the same person!

After a couple of weeks of orientation and acclimatization we finally arrived at the communities we were to be in, for the next three months, a small group of eight Indians, each with a Canadian counterpart, put up as a counterpart pair, with a host family, as a part of it, during our stay. Our routine there mainly included voluntary community service four days a week. The 'work placements' as they were called, were judiciously chosen, and we were all thrilled to be of some use there!

I of course, couldn't have asked for a work place better than the one I had been assigned! The Hilltop House--a senior citizens' home nested on the hill top, in the breathtakingly beautiful, Squamish! Every moment spent at the Hilltop House was sheer bliss for us both--my counterpart and me. So much so, that we always made time to return there to spend at least part of our Saturdays and Sundays with the residents. It was as enriching, as fulfilling it was, to be in company of those lovely people who showered us with immeasurable amount of affection and wisdom! The short span of three months there, left an indelible mark on my personality, and changed me for good! I learnt a lifetime worth of lessons--even more--in that short span! And all this, because of the beautiful people I met there!

Edith Maggie, an extremely affectionate lady, nearing ninety, had been a missionary in India, and nothing gave her more pleasure than seeing me come by! "Here comes my sweet darling as beautiful as her country India!" was her usual welcome note for me, or, "My! How beautiful my bitiya (daughter) looks in her salwar kameez and odhni, with that bindiya on her forehead!" I'd revel in all that affection she would shower on me, realizing little, about the indelible mark she was making on my life! She had Alzheimer's and there were days when she couldn't recall where she was, and who the people around her were...but she somehow always recognized me, and would ask me to help her find her lost shoe, (that she's sometimes be sitting on, on her wheel chair). Immense love from Edith taught me the best lesson of life. That there is no happiness in this world greater than giving happiness and love to those around you! That a touch of affection/love, a smile straight from your heart has the power to soothe and calm even an Alzheimer stricken person, when in deepest of her trauma, of having just been miraculously saved from being drowned by some nasty women! (Edith's bathing days were worst days for her!) The smile that lit up on her face through tears rolling down her cheeks, gave me such great happiness, that no words can ever describe! She loved my visits, for, they transported her to her happy days! And for me, I couldn't get enough of her affection! I always thirsted for more...still do!

Mary Campini, another resident citizen at the Hilltop House, was a beautiful woman with a dainty figure, somewhere in her late seventies. A very gentle, polite person, thoroughly graceful...I loved being with her! She would smile and greet me each day, and always keep a chocolate or some goodies for me! She taught me to make the most of  the time you have, and not to put away for tomorrow, what you really want to do/get from life! That was her life's biggest learning, she'd say. She helped me chisel my love for travel, in its very early stage, through her accounts from her life's experiences...though this wasn't all.

My love for scrabble came from daily scrabble sessions with Mary Donald, a short tempered old woman, who left nothing unsaid, if you rubbed her the wrong way, by way of winning over the game, or something! Too proud to ask you for a game each day, though all she wanted was for you to play scrabble with you. Each day, I'd walk up to her, where she sat alone, scrabble on the table, and ask if she'd do me a favor and let me play a game with her. The glow on her face at that was my reward each day...as also was humility, that I didn't realize then, I imbibed in ample measures!

Reene, a quiet woman, always found in the activity room, like Mary Donald, but with a deck of playing cards, was another person I spent some time with, daily. She'd play rummy all day, punctuated with her meals, or short walks out in the lawn. Reene was 88 years, a person of few words, each a very meaningful one, at that! Serene, unruffled by anything, self contained--that was Reene who had pleasantness writ large over her entire persona. Walks with her were very enriching indeed, for she taught me things so powerful, so very subtly!

Mr. Kurtenacker had a few 'couple-of-thousand piece' completed jigsaw puzzles under his belt, that dwarfed the walls of his room; and a flourishing little garden blooming with pretty flowers and some vegetables...need I say I always got greeted with a lovely flower and a "How u doing today, sweetheart"? A very happy man--never as old as his age, wiser though--who endeared himself to anyone he met--though the last was small! The reason--he was hardly left with any time to socialize with people, from his busy schedule of socializing with and dating nature! Wow!

Those three months were much shorter than usual, and soon I found myself gone from the Hilltop House! We performed a small cultural show for the citizens there, (our entire group of 16 participants) as a mark of out respect to them, and as our way of bidding goodbye. (Tough, tearful goodbyes had already been shared earlier! With promises to return asap! Promises I have yet to be able to keep...promises I long to keep!)

The last I saw of Mr. Kurtenacker was at our community cultural show, with his date, the beautiful Mary Campini, whose nails I'd filed and polished a couple of days ago...Reene, and Mary Donald had made it too, with some others...

Little had I know then, that a few months' hard work and sacrificing some hours' sleep for a few month, could (would) bring such immeasurable returns that enriched me for more than a lifetime! A rewards much larger than the ones I'd aspired for--the pleasure of having the RDC and ICYEP feathers adorn my cap!

This chapter of my life still remains incomplete though, for I have promises to keep--to them, (who, may not even be around anymore!) and to me--I (still) have to go back to Hilltop House...I must! (I hope with all my might, that I do!) Yes...I pine for more! I will! For, I will know no rest until!

January 14, 2012

Anita

"Anita is on leave" one maid at the hostel was telling another...

Yeah, Anita has been on leave ever since her counterpart/co-sister (what ever husband's second wife is called) was diagnosed with leukemia. So, Anita now does all the household work, looks after 'their' kids, and takes care of the sick woman as part of her wifely duties...and bears the responsibility of finding the leukemia its way right into 'her' veins through her curses! Of course! Why else would it happen to her and none else?! Of course! Who else had any job cursing the poor woman?!

Wow! What rewards! What rewards for bearing it all silently, and compromising at every step...Well, didn't she do it as much for herself? To 'have' a husband's roof over her head and his name appended to hers. To belong to someone, to belong somewhere!

So, she bore it all...the ignominy of being the second best, the ignominy of being the barren daughter-in-law...the one who couldn't bear the family a progeny to take its name to gen next...the one who gracefully compromised to sharing him, so the family would keep going.

"The second wife passed away last night.", "...the poor thing!", "...she left behind two little kids", talked the maids among themselves.

Anita now has 'being the step mother' added to her bag! The price to pay, for asking sometime, somewhere in life, to be 'the only one' perhaps?!

October 16, 2011

A menace of its kind

"It's been irking me ever since I read in the news about a youth being thrown out of the train by eunuchs, today!" I wrote, on May 27, 11, but couldn't go on, for some inexplicable reason/s!


The sight of a drunk 'eunuch' trying to cajole money off any and every guy that he passed by, by clinging to them, and even pecking some odd guy brought it all back!


A winter afternoon on board the A.P. Express, en route to Delhi. I bring out a couple of poories and some vegetable fry, of my meager meal, and before I can lay my hands on it, a eunuch has turned up, and taken a bite out of my plate! Not just this, he has the audacity to tell me that he had just had a bite, to taste it, asking me to have the rest of it! He didn't like my idea of taking it all since he'd already 'tasted' from it!


At least I got away just with eating two poories less! The men in the train have to bear with their flirting and stuff and part with some of their money, or handle abuses and curses hurled at them, in generous measures!


As kids we saw eunuchs come over (uninvited of course) to people's houses if they had a baby boy or married off a son. They'd sing and dance to the tunes of dholak and manjire and bollywood songs. They'd bless the baby/the newlywed and their family and then, demand exorbitant 'inaam' (presents) in cash or gold!! Refusing them entailed inciting their wrath, and bearing with their threats of unclothing themselves right there, in public, to humiliate the unrelenting 'host'! People ended up parting with quite some money, food grains, even a piece of jewelery at times, other than some hours' time, in the name of saving their integrity!


The nuisance has taken a much colossal and uglier shape by now, what with their presence spreading its wings to trains, and even traffic signals now! With them knowing no bounds, from embarrassing everyone around, to even harassing them and now, pushing them out of running trains, things have really gone out of hand!


Yea, and they go scot-free, of course, given our superstitious, eunuch-fearing  society--police et al.!


August 6, 2011

There was not a whisper heard.
No one spoke...yeah, no word.
A little snap, and it was gone,
No ripple caused in anyone's world


Had the time just stood still?
Wouldn't of course, for some 'run of the mill'!
All that lay was some broken glass.
Who could say, of a broken heart!

June 22, 2011

Jam's Chronicle: Review of A Thousand Splendid Suns

Jam's Chronicle: Review of A Thousand Splendid Suns: "'Suggest me a book to read', I asked my friend . ' A thousand splendid suns ', came the reply in a blink! 'But, its not for a light readin..."

June 3, 2011

The ants 'episode'!

The other day I saw a patch of black on my bathroom wall, with specks of white in it. The sight transported me back into time...

A little girl crouched on the ground, next to a black patch on it, watching it closely--perplexed, amused, intrigued...Her mom, seeing her glued to the spot came over, to see what was going on with her daughter. The girl couldn't hold back further, and soon her mother was showered with a volley of questions! "What's wrong with these ants?" "Where are they all going?" How did sooo many ants get together?" "Are the little white things they are carrying, their luggage?"

Mom, her smile wider now, said "The ants have their own mechanism to know that the monsoons are round the corner, and it'll start raining after some time. So, they move from their current colony to a safer place. This is what these ants are doing right now. And, the little white things they are carrying are their grub which will hatch one day, and become ants like these ones."

The girl had sheer awe writ large on her face...her mom must have been thrilled at that priceless sight! (I'd have said here "wish I had a way to find out for sure" but I won't...any mom would have felt this way!)

The girl didn't forget what her mom told her, and not many days after the 'ant' episode, she came dashing to her mom, straight into her arms and said "can i go to the terrace and bathe in the rain?" Of course her mom couldn't say "no"! She never could, when her daughter asked to go get drenched in the rain...she even joined her if she could, at times!

I woke up to the sounds of pouring rain this afternoon...and that little girl from the past came bounding out! "Wow!! the ant thing worked this time too!! I knew it would!" She smiled...thrilled beyond measure!

"Wow! Am so happy! Am thrilled! :)" I texted my friend (my rain and clouds advisor :P) "It's been raining for almost an hour :) n its so cool! :) Is this monsoon?"

"Wow! I think so." He replied. "Visit www.imd.gov.in to see the satellite picture."

I did...checked the 'infrared' images per his instructions, and thought..."it must be monsoon!"

Out peeked the little girl then..."didn't you see all those ants with their grubs? This 'is' monsoon!"

They're so close to the nature, they don't need satellite images and sophesticated instruments and gadgets to figure this out--the ants! We do! We've come such a long way...so far away from nature, we can't hear her anymore!


January 26, 2011

from a different plane...

You probably can steal my smile that's yet to come from happy moments spent with you;
but can't rob those that I have safe in my memory vault, from happy moments gone by!
And...until then,
I'm rich...for I have made safe deposits of precious memories as I earned them, dear World! :)

In the darkest of dark depths where hand sees not hand,
I live in the light of these smiles, I thrive!
so come not to me if u so wish.
I'm gud by myself as can be!
for I live in the light of these smiles and I thrive!
for I have made safe deposits of precious memories as I earned them, dear World!

January 16, 2011

I am...

The bounding snow, that gives,
and gives with all her might.
Light and gentle, falls quietly, all around.
A pleaure to your eyes, until trodden all over
...dirt smitten and hardened
...driven to nothingness...by you!

Cold and severe yes, but just
to have you kindle a warmth in you
Much warmer within, at all times though...

As nothing does, I will not last either!
I am the bounding winter snow...
It'll soon be time for me...
...here the winters go!

January 9, 2011

He'll be back

T'was the crescent so loved...yet a little less bright
"it'll be brighter tomorrow, and thicker, as it grows."
I told my uneasy self.
I looked up today, to check in on it, and be sure.
Oh! but he was gone--the waning moon.
Some moon that was...

"He'll be back...just a matter of days"
I told my despairing self, and smiled!

July 23, 2010

Ah! This thin line

I tread this thin line, in this drunk like state.
The thrill's all yours onlooker,
you know--all, right now's at stake!

I for now just tread on...
I have naught to choose!

It's just steps right now,
with minds any but mine.

I'll know if I make it,
I'll know when I emerge
that the line's sanity!

That I tread this thin line
to the other side,
to the side that's mine.

----
[1] naught - nothing

July 2, 2010

They lie too deep

Thoughts oh so fragile,
from deep within
surface unbeckoned
at unsaid times.
Like effervescence,
oh! hard to hold!
so out of reach,
can't try and touch!

Thoughts oh so fragile,
from deep within
come and go
as they please!
They smile our smile,
and cry our tears
on stealthy toes
come rob our sleep!

Thoughts oh so fragile,
from deep within...

April 26, 2010

Another goodbye? Ah! and the pain?
Nah! The clouds are here, to bring the rain

You say the sun's overtaken now?
He's the one to have made the rain!

So what if it's time for goodbye!
If there's been joy, there'll be pain!

Time to gear up and go on... 
There'll be rainbows yet again!