Archive for August, 2012

The orange of the evening sky

Man and woman say goodbye

As the day comes to a close

From my heart questions arose

Did I do justice to time?

Was my day worth atleast a dime?

Will morrow be a new story?

Perhaps my epoch of glory?

Well, I can’t see beyond the ken

Can you do so, oh dainty wren?

‘Tis so queer that I shouldn’t know

What path it is that I’ll follow

I think again and is it true

That I want to see a preview

Of what will happen latterly

And comprehend it utterly?

Maybe I do, maybe I don’t

Come to know, of course I won’t

But won’t it just be a delight

To have a wee little insight?

Enough said, enough done

‘Tis time to live and have some fun

Whoever knows, under the sun,

What lies beyond the horizon?


Grace Becomes Us

Posted: August 6, 2012 in Uncategorized
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We hold each other’s hands

As we marry into our sincerity

In silence we breathe together

As we face our problems and insecurities


For we are experienced warriors

And have struck with many a weapon

But each time we sever the monster’s head

It easily sprouts another one


The behemoth only seems to grow

Unfettered and unruffled

There seems nowhere to go

It’s chaos; mixed up and muddled


So then we dream up a new plan

We step into the unknown

Where the skies are clear and empty

Where the bird of thought hasn’t flown


We decide to stick with the silence

Not craving or wanting and answer

And we just stand beside the problem

As we invoke a force much larger


Then just when all hope seems lost

The problem is bereft of its face

Our eyes cry only – Thank you!

All around us only grace

Reality Bites

Posted: August 5, 2012 in Uncategorized
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Once upon a time, there sat two friends, lazing around in the evening sun. The day had been tiring, and to be sitting there, under the cool shade of the tree, admiring the sunset was a luxury we seldom enjoyed.  Earphones plugged in, I sat oblivious to what my friend was doing. He must have been doing the same, for the tranquil peace still lay undisturbed.

Nothing lasts forever, even cold November rain.

Suddenly my earphones are yanked off. Startled, I look at the perpetrator, my friend, sitting facing me, my earphones dangling from his hands. He had been talking to me for a while now, evidently, he was no harbinger of peace or silence I imagined him to be. He was telling me about the nightmare that had kept him awake the previous night.


Nightmare. The word caught my attention.

Generally, when people talk about nightmares, you expect ghosts and phantoms to crop up, in a tale of vividly distinct attempts at the narrators life. Now that drama is something to look forward to, especially if you are jobless enough to be enjoying the sunset.

He had my undivided attention, at least till he got to the part where the ghost makes its grand entry.

Basking in the new found audience, he began speaking again. It’s funny how easily life can surprise you, challenge you when you least expect it, put you at ease when you’re ready to fight.  I sat there, expecting a child’s tale of the supernatural but what I heard was something so contrasting. In a simple line, he had described one of the most primitive fears of the whole mankind.

 In his dream, he had seen himself, albeit in a different form, more powerful than he was, fearless and unrelenting. His stature showed no hint of worries or regret. No hollow years to account for. Yet there was anger. And that scared him. Something so perfect, and yet so stark. He stood bare bodied, his ghost, his own reflection.

 He was scared of himself, he admitted sheepishly. I simply stared.

It was a day like any other.

This city, had traits that defined it. The people kept to themselves, hurriedly walking one way or the other, consumed in some thought of theirs, the birds chirped, the cars honked and the traffic moved at its never changing pace. The only unusual thing was me walking towards the bus stand at 2 in the noon, a time when I am usually sitting at my desk, sleeping away to glory. But then here I was, walking a road I had never set foot on before, wandering aimlessly, for a wise friend had once said,  ‘in order to be found, you need to be lost first…’

I for one had taken her seriously.

I had started from my office, in a moment of inspired action (read ‘receiving the salary check’) and proceeded to do the needful. That was how I ended up on that road, a few kilometres away from my office. Humming some familiar tune, I walked on, lost in my own thoughts, barely noticing the multitude of people walking past.

“Excuse me” came a not so distant voice, sudden and stabbing. I looked around, my world and my thoughts breached by three simple syllables. Standing beside me was a girl, cute in her office paraphernalia. Judging by her demeanour she could not have been more than a year senior to me.

“Excuse me, can you please direct me to the nearest ATM?’ she said again, looking at me.

It’s not often that you are stopped in the middle of the road by some girl, but it was an unusual day after all, and before I realised it, I was giving her directions to the one ATM that I had come across. In that moment I was no longer someone who had never set foot on that road before. I could hear myself tell her the exact distance and the name of the bank that she’d find nearby.

The aimless roving had its benefits, however small.

You generally expect people to move on as soon as you have given them what they want. An occasional thanks, is the most you expect. But again, this was not a usual day.

She said thanks, and then smiling, she held out her hand. “Hi, I am Anshika” she said, smiling her disarming smile. I was taken aback. When something unexpected happens, people have the tendency to go into a mental lock down. I was no better. I could not help but notice the confidence that simmered in those pretty eyes, the way she could so easily find her way with words while I fumbled. Her hands were still held out, waiting.

“Kshitij”, I said, taking her hand. “So where do you work?” She asked. “I am interning at Disney”,  I replied, all the more aware of the ID card hanging around my neck, screaming in big black letters, the name of the company I was interning at. I knew she’d seen it.  Why did she ask then?

I guess that’s how random conversations follow. You ignore the assumptions and flaunt your ignorance.

Hours passed, as we stood in the middle of nowhere, talking about everything under the sun, strangers an hour back, and friends anon. We parted ways that evening, she with her directions, and me with a smile, each fostering a friendship that we’d never forget. Not in the many years to come. I looked at the number I had in my hand, still smiling, still amused.

“An unusual day”, I murmured, as I boarded the bus back home.

It’s a strange place, this world. And this I know for a fact.