Transitions

"First Times"
they r always thr, teaching u newer theories...
just how we wake up from beneath the old blanket of skepticism into a newer better morning of pleasures;

A blank gaze,
A numb head turning all sides
In search of that 'something'.

I could feel the wind,
behind my ears,
amidst sounds of bygone conflicts,

Suddenly i realize its difficult to walk;
I am standing on sand.
The friction slipping from beneath my feet
into my mind.

That thorn from that old withered rose
suddenly pricked.
But there was no blood.
There was only a theory written in red,
asking me to redefine the wrongly accepted notions.

Then i felt the sand disappearing under my feet,
I could stand steadily.
i could now only hear the soft wind,
the sound of conflicts growing mild and finally gone.

Calm taking the place of friction in the mind.
The mirth held on a string at the edge of my consciousness,
suddenly gaining ground.

Wriggling out of the black-box finally.
I could see sunlight.Finally.

12-A

...When the rains start clattering against my doorsteps,
I look outside to see the puddles stare back at me;
images of you resurface back
and i realize how much I miss thee.
Only 2 years!
Relatively a time span that passed away in a blink;
But i often amuse myself with the connections i have left behind.
Years where i just stuck to the classrooms and corridors;
Years where i cautiously wanted to live an oblivious life -
Unlike the popular over hyped one that i lived in my prior school years;
I just wanted to be an ordinary girl;
whom teachers will not mch remember or relate to,
who will not be the 'o-she's so famous' type
Never singing in school-fests
Nor blabbering away at Debates.
I just wanted to be an ordinary girl;
I just wanted to be "Me"
But i miss those oblivious connection: Friends

My memories are so incomplete without you.

Love u all!
Divi,Nivi,Sam,Oyn,Rips,
Prarthana,Anshu,Monty,
Adrija,Ishani,Neha,Mridula,
Sanchita,Subarna,Shreya Dutta,
Agniva,Maya,Shefa,Debo,Sanchari,
Nafisa,Ayanti,Debkrishna,
Isha,Shruti Rustogi,Shreemayi...and Pritha(for spcl reasons.)
Tr Shanta,Tr.Sumana,Tr.Sutapa,Tr.Vidya,
Tr.Ratna,Tr.Ivy,Tr.Gargi,Sr.Bony[:P].

Thank you all for helping me make my memories.

Ringa Ringa Rosses.

Shuffling through old files
chancing upon an old school snap
of 5 yr oldkids i called friends.
It reminded me of silly games
of Color-man 'n' Name-Place-Animal-Things.
When we became cranky for an ice-cream at a fair
And broke into a smile on a Joy-ride train!

And often when i see my brother ride
that 'ol bicycle that once used to b mine;
It reminds me of the bruised knees and
the happiness of that first ride with dad by my side.

The road that i daily rode to school,
fishing through rush hour traffic-jams,
pouring our heads out of the school-bus window,
and calling out to 'jhaal muri-walaahs'.
That road is barely trodden these days.

And if ever I travel that path,
I soberly stare out as my school passes by,
smiling a cautious smile, thinking a silent thought,
to keep away other passengers from staring at me.
And at this note i realize that I have grown up;
A real lot.

It reminds of times when being able to sing many songs
meant being very apt at winning antaksharis;
And now I realize that they
Are needed to define my many moods.

Times when tears rolled down
at the slightest provocations,at mom's scoldings
for committing silly mistakes in my history paper
or having to get a complaint note signed by her.
But now I m a big girl.
That stops me from shedding a sigh
It embarrasses me if i cry.

When i was 10, I wanted to grow up fast
very fast indeed.
But then almost a decade later,
I want to play a game of hide n seek,
I want to fly high on the playground swing,
and I want to save five rupees for an orange ice-cream.

Coffee and Bitter-gaurds.

Two weeks Ago.Period.
Sometimes i make this conscious effort not to be skeptical or sadist.
I mean there have been too many phases.
sometimes i pray so hard for certain things to happen,
And other times i pray for things never to happen.
that 'ol wretched hurt,i HATE it!
There are times,often in fact,when m so satisfied being what i m,
and there r still times, when i badly want somebody to prove me wrong:
Prove me wrong against my pessimism,
Prove me wrong against my darker whims,
Selfishness and Get me out from the fetters of dejection.
Why does every time, someone has to doubt their pride, their conscience
And their love...Why can't people just stick on?..Why dunn they..
I know its sounding grim, but...

Dunno may be m being hyper sentimental or trying to seek perfection
In those elements of Life that are transitory,
Out of my control.
'Cause i m nobody to decide for smbdy else.
Actually i just wanted someone to be happy around me,
You know there is the notion of 'positive energy'
I thought perhaps i could draw in some;
I wish my faith could have grown on this time
In seeing someone else * stick on * ...if u know what i mean.

I hate all of it.
Life is just screwed up so often
or m i the screw up itself.
why can't things stop being to transitory...
see,i again made it sound so grim.I know.
Pheww!A cup of coffee is always good for the grey cells.
This works for me often,u know,
the caffeine works...

That Stupid Wait

So wat after this?
Nothing u know..'nothing'
We willingly/unwilling accept all of it always
and blame whom?the administrators?d law makers or d breakers?
May be i havent been so disturbed,upset,roused
to such n extent on a national issue for long.
but that day there was a strange feeling?
not sure was dat good or bad?
was hurt dunno for what?
was intimidated dunno for wat?
can anything at all be done?
can any1 really do something to make things better?

I used to often stare in admiration at d big adds in the Telegraph :
"Incredible India" by the Department of tourism,Govt. of India
Lovely pictures actually u know!
But then now, Is it all really incredible?
Is It?...who makes it so?
or who makes it otherwise?
It so much reminds me of Khalid Hosseini's Kite Runner
that one aspect when Amir returns
to his country after almost 3decades;
He is so unable to confront the ruined state of her,
the dilapidation,hopelessness,those signs of past glory,
But in spite of all these feelings
He does nt want to go back thr ever.

..then what is d use of such a kind of love or nostalgia?
where does it get us finally?
sanity?
practicality?
or something that we call democracy? secularism?
we have been long waiting n waiting,
Just waiting for some radical change.
But who is it that we are looking upto?
waiting doesn't bring back anybody,
waiting doesn't start a revolution,
It never did.

Everything Changes.

1945

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2008

Half-a-Life Ago...

Trying to clench her fist
to ascertain the strength
that isn't there perhaps.
The keyring within,
paving the path along the fortune lines of the palm
for blood to stream out.

Loosing sanity for not that couldn't be achieved.
but for one dat is lost.
'cause one underachieved was undeserved.
but one lost is failure.

That blood entangles the wrists and elbow;
Touches the chalice she was holding
mixing its strange aroma with the vodka
going down the system.
Dinno which tastes better??
(Actually Vodka tastes like spirit or her nail-polish remover.. n d aroma(!!)well u can't tell when ur drunk)

The limbs take time to freeze as the senses go numb,
"Oh death tread softly! My heart needs to sleep!"
Wished the slumber came sooner;
Pains could have succumbed into it then.

Not happy but contented.
You seem to have found a cause that she couldn't be.
Entwined among civil conflicts of the perplexed mind
decisions were never joyful but just a logical compromise.

the drink over to the last drop;
Life wringing itself out of its own shackles.

"See those seagulls?
they herald a question.
Who are you?
actually - who have you been all this while??
See the Waves basking on the shore?
Half erasing the past.
Keeping me half alive & just letting go
Half a life."