I just thought I needed to get back to writing , so I prepared a sort of a pilot that I could build upon. I need feedback to know if it is substantially interesting as to attract investment in the form of my time into it and if the style and intensity seem to be reasonably acceptable, hence I require feedback and request you to provide the same. If This text seems like a good starting stone, do let me know and I shall try to build upon it, if it is not or seems to boring I shall try to prepare something else. This could be more like a slight teaser setting the general direction of things to come. Do tell me if you like and PLEASE tell me if you do not like it and what it is that you do not like. I shall be highly happy to receive any such feed back:-
Project Untitled - Cut 1.
He watched as the rays of the setting sun slowly cast a orange hue over the vista that lay before him, seemingly vast and peaceful. How deceptive the whole world seemed now from this Vantage point, the top of this tower which afforded him a view which could make any man hold his breath in sheer amazement. And yet, there was no one to appreciate it, neither the view that he beheld or the views that his head held, the latter being the tools that had landed him in this fate.
The very heavens seemed to be on fire as the orange glow grew intense. It would be over soon as the sun would slowly disappear and make the whole world dark. And then there would be some lights. Some lights which could be seen in the darkness, like little brilliant ants which would sometimes move, changing patterns in an fascinating way and leave his imagination free to join them in various forms and shapes that would frequent his imagination. Birds, beasts and humans, they had all appeared in front of him in his solitary existence in rough shapes that had been traced out from the back of his head out from the lights flickering in the darkness amidst the lightly wooded world that this window held for him. It has been a year since he had been exiled to this tower. Seemed like an eternity.
The King looked on as the last rays of the sun played the game of hide and seek with the turrets of the Towers of Marwar shining far to the north of his current location, then the rays escaped, eluding this world that tried to hold onto them in vain and plunged his kingdom into darkness.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Images
I don't need a star sign to identify me,
I don't need you to have any parameters to define me,
Let me be me in your eyes,
then you may look upon what it is,
and what can be.
Because there is a difference in what you perceive,
and what you can probably see,
What you can see, when you look at me.
You may say I behave like a Gemini, Maybe I do, I'd never know
But then how do you know it's not just something that i show?
Stop fitting me in and feel me though,
The connection could surprise you.
I don't need you to have any parameters to define me,
Let me be me in your eyes,
then you may look upon what it is,
and what can be.
Because there is a difference in what you perceive,
and what you can probably see,
What you can see, when you look at me.
You may say I behave like a Gemini, Maybe I do, I'd never know
But then how do you know it's not just something that i show?
Stop fitting me in and feel me though,
The connection could surprise you.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Untitled
There is this path , the walk of life,
on which people often walk in pairs,
hand in hand, stride matching stride,
wondering if the other person is theirs.
They have their dreams. their needs, their fears,
And seldom do any of these rest,
The plague the people with confusion and tears,
and put their fidelity to test.
When the breakers come, some part ways,
Some others give up the quest,
While some march on , though the bonds maybe frayed,
facing it all with zest.
When in front of you this drama unfurls,
therein the answer you will find,
Not a relationship status to show the world,
Commitment is a state of the mind.
on which people often walk in pairs,
hand in hand, stride matching stride,
wondering if the other person is theirs.
They have their dreams. their needs, their fears,
And seldom do any of these rest,
The plague the people with confusion and tears,
and put their fidelity to test.
When the breakers come, some part ways,
Some others give up the quest,
While some march on , though the bonds maybe frayed,
facing it all with zest.
When in front of you this drama unfurls,
therein the answer you will find,
Not a relationship status to show the world,
Commitment is a state of the mind.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Flights and Confrontations
It’s been a while since I came here,
I’v been hiding away, Maybe even running in fear,
Why I do this, I really do not know,
What is it that I prove? What do I try to show?
We all have our dreams, our hopes and our fears,
The former we chase far, while the others draw near,
Our triumphs, our glories and deeds that are past,
The shadow and darkness that pursues us fast.
I’v stood here quietly for quite a while,
Trying to sort out things in my mind,
Holding on to happiness those stray grains of sand,
Trying hard to hold onto them as they slip out of hand.
We see the shadows come on close,
As they catch up a cold wind blows,
The stage is set, the die is cast,
Concerns about the future and a checkered past.
I wade along often out of depth,
And feel a cross road on every step,
And what do I choose when the choice is wide?
And every option leaves an empty void?
We choose our roads some short some long,
But how do we choose what’s right what’s wrong?
When the two concepts are distorted and faint,
Who is evil and who is the saint?
I’v made some choices for myself,
Some acted upon, others, now dusty upon a shelf,
This play of destiny sure is strange,
Faith sure works in mysterious ways.
We try to fight as the shadows lengthen,
But in the quest of which, them we ourselves strengthen,
To eradicate our weakness and work towards the light,
But how do you win this eternal fight?
We do it in various ways,
The night slowly turn into a new day,
These crutches of mine which I once held I now let go,
and walk down this Morning Boulevard basking in it's glow.
I’v been hiding away, Maybe even running in fear,
Why I do this, I really do not know,
What is it that I prove? What do I try to show?
We all have our dreams, our hopes and our fears,
The former we chase far, while the others draw near,
Our triumphs, our glories and deeds that are past,
The shadow and darkness that pursues us fast.
I’v stood here quietly for quite a while,
Trying to sort out things in my mind,
Holding on to happiness those stray grains of sand,
Trying hard to hold onto them as they slip out of hand.
We see the shadows come on close,
As they catch up a cold wind blows,
The stage is set, the die is cast,
Concerns about the future and a checkered past.
I wade along often out of depth,
And feel a cross road on every step,
And what do I choose when the choice is wide?
And every option leaves an empty void?
We choose our roads some short some long,
But how do we choose what’s right what’s wrong?
When the two concepts are distorted and faint,
Who is evil and who is the saint?
I’v made some choices for myself,
Some acted upon, others, now dusty upon a shelf,
This play of destiny sure is strange,
Faith sure works in mysterious ways.
We try to fight as the shadows lengthen,
But in the quest of which, them we ourselves strengthen,
To eradicate our weakness and work towards the light,
But how do you win this eternal fight?
We do it in various ways,
The night slowly turn into a new day,
These crutches of mine which I once held I now let go,
and walk down this Morning Boulevard basking in it's glow.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Through our eyes.
I met this friend after really long,
She's inspired me to write this song,
We talking about food, pretty girls and guys,
And therein the crux of the matter lies.
Of food we decided , that Italian was the best,
talking about girls without offending her was quite a test,
And just as we were finishing up the french fries,
She wondered about how girls seem though my eyes.
She wondered about the attitude of us men,
Wondered if we even respect Women,
Wondered if we preferred love or lust,
Or just fell for a girl depending on the size of her bust.
To defend my tribe now I prepared,
Tried to streamline all the questions in my head,
It's kind of hard to answer them,
Because, nothing is quite as simple to understand as us men.
First let me clarify, we love women,
Cars are the only thing we love more than them,
And maybe food, in retrospect,
But sure, we give them respect.
We don't look for much in our girls,
We like deep dimples and love curls,
We like it when you hold us close,
and don't flood our conversations with your woes.
You know we like to have our own way,
But we like a girl who has something to say,
It's nice when a girl offers to pay,
And awesome when she smiles and makes our day.
We like nice dinners and 'coffee' at home,
Love it when you smell good and are awesomely toned,
It's adorable when you cook us food,
As long as it tastes good and makes our mood.
Good looks are important, they do count,
But they are not everything as many girls have found.
We like girls with short skirts and shorter shorts,
We love it when our girls look hot.
Our list is simple, demands but a few,
We like it when you don't stick to us like glue,
You can ask " Where are you?", but not everyday,
Do it too often and we will run away.
I think that covers it all,
Fill this checklist and for you we shall fall,
And just on record , what you mentioned about the bust,
That is exactly what we notice first.
She's inspired me to write this song,
We talking about food, pretty girls and guys,
And therein the crux of the matter lies.
Of food we decided , that Italian was the best,
talking about girls without offending her was quite a test,
And just as we were finishing up the french fries,
She wondered about how girls seem though my eyes.
She wondered about the attitude of us men,
Wondered if we even respect Women,
Wondered if we preferred love or lust,
Or just fell for a girl depending on the size of her bust.
To defend my tribe now I prepared,
Tried to streamline all the questions in my head,
It's kind of hard to answer them,
Because, nothing is quite as simple to understand as us men.
First let me clarify, we love women,
Cars are the only thing we love more than them,
And maybe food, in retrospect,
But sure, we give them respect.
We don't look for much in our girls,
We like deep dimples and love curls,
We like it when you hold us close,
and don't flood our conversations with your woes.
You know we like to have our own way,
But we like a girl who has something to say,
It's nice when a girl offers to pay,
And awesome when she smiles and makes our day.
We like nice dinners and 'coffee' at home,
Love it when you smell good and are awesomely toned,
It's adorable when you cook us food,
As long as it tastes good and makes our mood.
Good looks are important, they do count,
But they are not everything as many girls have found.
We like girls with short skirts and shorter shorts,
We love it when our girls look hot.
Our list is simple, demands but a few,
We like it when you don't stick to us like glue,
You can ask " Where are you?", but not everyday,
Do it too often and we will run away.
I think that covers it all,
Fill this checklist and for you we shall fall,
And just on record , what you mentioned about the bust,
That is exactly what we notice first.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Melting Moments - The other Side
( Written as an offshoot of the Original Melting Moments available in the FB notes section or at this link :- http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=86057811645 please read that first)
He felt her her stare as he walked out in the rapidly diminishing light. The Air around him seemed tense and heavy, almost expectant, a fitting conclusion to the drama that had just unfolded a few moments ago. An ominous silence seemed to press around him, muting out the ambient noise, all but a dull humming as if he was deep underwater. He almost wished that he was. He wished that she would come after him, hit him and demand an explanation or an apology. Her vacant expression that followed his confession was fresh in his mind, almost haunting, seemingly waiting for him to stop and tell her that it was all a joke, a mistake or just a bad dream or alternately all of the three. He expected a scene , a showdown or a violent reaction but nothing had prepared for the empty nothing that came his way except a weight so heavy that it would haunt him for an eternity. A cold bolt of Ice seemed to have pierced his heart, one that refused to thaw or go away. He shivered slightly. The moments dragged himself and the drama unfolded in an almost unreal fashion. Nothing that she would have said would have hurt more that the look she gave. What was it? Disgust? Pain? Anger? He would never know. He had not dared to really meet her eyes. But he knew that at this moment she was crying. He reached the poolside, changed and stood poised on the diving board. He felt himself shiver as his mind whirled down memory lane.
Her long hair was the first thing that he had ever noticed and then the the warm eyes that seemed to light up the evening. A thin watery smile that just did not do her face justice had magically transformed into the most radiant one he had ever seen. Love at first sight? Hardly! But he knew that he would carry this picture in his heart for a long time. It was still vivid, warm , a moment that he would cherish as cupid and the resident devil both fought for supremacy in the confines of his head. Unfair fight really, Cupid had arrows. Duh.
Then there was that meet up at Bascillico, the blueberry cheesecake and an absurd bill that she had insisted on sharing, hence lightning his heart instead of his pocket. A long walk at Pali hill that seemed altogether too short had sealed his fate. He was smitten. A long drive down marine drive that changed everything. The first time he felt her close, inhaling her soft scent as his nose traced a faint line down her neck, feeling the warmth just before that first kiss. Flowers. Yes, that scent would not be easily forgotten. Neither would she. Nor would the long hours in the Hot water tub for that matter.
They said that good things can never last for ever, but their memories can endure that long. Is that a good thing? Maybe not, but he sure hoped the wise man who had said this was mistaken.
Then came the onslaught of her exams and the long late night talks gave way to a spate of messages that slowly dried down to a stream and then an insignificant leak. He could blame the library for that, that temple for learning had little tolerances for mobile phones and the priest that guarded its sanctity did not take too well to whispering. He had felt her get distant, fading into the twilight that has seemed to engulf him. Her exams had seemed to drain her of her patience, happiness and strength. Obviously, romance was not spared either. The love notes gave way to angry messages. The conversations graduated to arguments and the coy teasing suddenly burst from it's cocoon and came out in the guise of ugly suspicion. It wasn't him. It was her.
Or maybe it was her, the girl who came out of no where and swept him off his feet onto a magic carpet ride. Cupid seemingly ran out of arrows and then the resident devil came back with a vengeance, the invader was vanquished aided by a few helpings of alcohol. A lip lock seemed a fitting tribute to mark this occasion, witnessed by his girl. She did not seem to care.The celebrations carried on into the night. And even further. The back seat of a car may not be as endearing as a bubble bath, but then again, infidelity never has endeared anything. Or anyone.
He had found it impossible to answer her calls anymore. Was it Anger? Guilt? Shame? Or maybe a weird combination of all the three, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He could no longer feel his heart call out to her, though she claimed hers did. A seeming hundred missed calls later, he answered one and landed up at her doorstep. He felt her warm body against him, her lips slowly traveling the path from His shoulder to his lips, as an increasingly cold bolt shot through his heart. He felt her take in his scent, her hand playing with the shirt buttons, slowly running them out from the slits. He pulled back and met her eyes. She pushed him away. They say that silences can speak volumes. This one was mute.
He then spoke in a low tone as she confronted him. His eyes refused to meet hers. The bolt through his heart seemed to be shooting searing waves of cold through his bloodstream. He felt numb. Cold. But he came clean. A few seconds and it was over. He could see the hurt and the disappointment etched all over her face. He could feel her shock as he pulled his shirt back on. The air around him seemed to resonate with the magnitude of her grief. As he looked at her, his mind went back to the first time he had seen her. He could feel a strange weight in the pits of his stomach. It was like nothing he expected. Where was the anger he had braced himself for? But none of his preparations were able to stop the tidal wave of shame that followed. Unable to handle it anymore, he walked out without daring to steal as much as a glance at her. A diminished figure, walking out into the dreary twilight.
At that minute he dived. He felt the water engulf him. Funny how it felt just like diving into a pool of shame.
He felt her her stare as he walked out in the rapidly diminishing light. The Air around him seemed tense and heavy, almost expectant, a fitting conclusion to the drama that had just unfolded a few moments ago. An ominous silence seemed to press around him, muting out the ambient noise, all but a dull humming as if he was deep underwater. He almost wished that he was. He wished that she would come after him, hit him and demand an explanation or an apology. Her vacant expression that followed his confession was fresh in his mind, almost haunting, seemingly waiting for him to stop and tell her that it was all a joke, a mistake or just a bad dream or alternately all of the three. He expected a scene , a showdown or a violent reaction but nothing had prepared for the empty nothing that came his way except a weight so heavy that it would haunt him for an eternity. A cold bolt of Ice seemed to have pierced his heart, one that refused to thaw or go away. He shivered slightly. The moments dragged himself and the drama unfolded in an almost unreal fashion. Nothing that she would have said would have hurt more that the look she gave. What was it? Disgust? Pain? Anger? He would never know. He had not dared to really meet her eyes. But he knew that at this moment she was crying. He reached the poolside, changed and stood poised on the diving board. He felt himself shiver as his mind whirled down memory lane.
Her long hair was the first thing that he had ever noticed and then the the warm eyes that seemed to light up the evening. A thin watery smile that just did not do her face justice had magically transformed into the most radiant one he had ever seen. Love at first sight? Hardly! But he knew that he would carry this picture in his heart for a long time. It was still vivid, warm , a moment that he would cherish as cupid and the resident devil both fought for supremacy in the confines of his head. Unfair fight really, Cupid had arrows. Duh.
Then there was that meet up at Bascillico, the blueberry cheesecake and an absurd bill that she had insisted on sharing, hence lightning his heart instead of his pocket. A long walk at Pali hill that seemed altogether too short had sealed his fate. He was smitten. A long drive down marine drive that changed everything. The first time he felt her close, inhaling her soft scent as his nose traced a faint line down her neck, feeling the warmth just before that first kiss. Flowers. Yes, that scent would not be easily forgotten. Neither would she. Nor would the long hours in the Hot water tub for that matter.
They said that good things can never last for ever, but their memories can endure that long. Is that a good thing? Maybe not, but he sure hoped the wise man who had said this was mistaken.
Then came the onslaught of her exams and the long late night talks gave way to a spate of messages that slowly dried down to a stream and then an insignificant leak. He could blame the library for that, that temple for learning had little tolerances for mobile phones and the priest that guarded its sanctity did not take too well to whispering. He had felt her get distant, fading into the twilight that has seemed to engulf him. Her exams had seemed to drain her of her patience, happiness and strength. Obviously, romance was not spared either. The love notes gave way to angry messages. The conversations graduated to arguments and the coy teasing suddenly burst from it's cocoon and came out in the guise of ugly suspicion. It wasn't him. It was her.
Or maybe it was her, the girl who came out of no where and swept him off his feet onto a magic carpet ride. Cupid seemingly ran out of arrows and then the resident devil came back with a vengeance, the invader was vanquished aided by a few helpings of alcohol. A lip lock seemed a fitting tribute to mark this occasion, witnessed by his girl. She did not seem to care.The celebrations carried on into the night. And even further. The back seat of a car may not be as endearing as a bubble bath, but then again, infidelity never has endeared anything. Or anyone.
He had found it impossible to answer her calls anymore. Was it Anger? Guilt? Shame? Or maybe a weird combination of all the three, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He could no longer feel his heart call out to her, though she claimed hers did. A seeming hundred missed calls later, he answered one and landed up at her doorstep. He felt her warm body against him, her lips slowly traveling the path from His shoulder to his lips, as an increasingly cold bolt shot through his heart. He felt her take in his scent, her hand playing with the shirt buttons, slowly running them out from the slits. He pulled back and met her eyes. She pushed him away. They say that silences can speak volumes. This one was mute.
He then spoke in a low tone as she confronted him. His eyes refused to meet hers. The bolt through his heart seemed to be shooting searing waves of cold through his bloodstream. He felt numb. Cold. But he came clean. A few seconds and it was over. He could see the hurt and the disappointment etched all over her face. He could feel her shock as he pulled his shirt back on. The air around him seemed to resonate with the magnitude of her grief. As he looked at her, his mind went back to the first time he had seen her. He could feel a strange weight in the pits of his stomach. It was like nothing he expected. Where was the anger he had braced himself for? But none of his preparations were able to stop the tidal wave of shame that followed. Unable to handle it anymore, he walked out without daring to steal as much as a glance at her. A diminished figure, walking out into the dreary twilight.
At that minute he dived. He felt the water engulf him. Funny how it felt just like diving into a pool of shame.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Melting Moments - 4 - A.D.
Based on a Story and concept fielded by A.D.
They say that feelings are hard, confusing and complex,
I stand here as proof, scared and perplexed.
Thinking about you most of the time,
trying to find ways to make you mine.
Though stories are fiction and seldom true,
This story is about me and you.
Nothing has changed since the last time we met,
or the last time I called you, when inside I wept,
Talking in the darkness, about how he did me wrong,
and how he left me, when someone else came along.
And then I lay there, trying to express myself,
yearning to hold you, but scared of the consequence.
When I look into your eyes, I loose the power of speech,
What you do to me is so amazing, but you're still out of my reach,
Sometimes I wish i could just talk to you and express how I feel,
But then when I see you, those words out my mouth you steal.
And then I stay there, Mute and Dumb
fear clenching my heart, feeling cold and numb.
- @ A.D. Now stop cribbing that I don't write for you.
They say that feelings are hard, confusing and complex,
I stand here as proof, scared and perplexed.
Thinking about you most of the time,
trying to find ways to make you mine.
Though stories are fiction and seldom true,
This story is about me and you.
Nothing has changed since the last time we met,
or the last time I called you, when inside I wept,
Talking in the darkness, about how he did me wrong,
and how he left me, when someone else came along.
And then I lay there, trying to express myself,
yearning to hold you, but scared of the consequence.
When I look into your eyes, I loose the power of speech,
What you do to me is so amazing, but you're still out of my reach,
Sometimes I wish i could just talk to you and express how I feel,
But then when I see you, those words out my mouth you steal.
And then I stay there, Mute and Dumb
fear clenching my heart, feeling cold and numb.
- @ A.D. Now stop cribbing that I don't write for you.
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