Paradise regained!

That season? I do not place a bet.
That fateful day? Yes, I did forget.
That defining moment? I do not recollect.
My aching soul, when I met.

I looked it straight in the eye.
Hunting for hints to prove it a mighty lie.
In all earnest did I try.
But my haunting soul, I could just not deny.

My towering ego trembled that moment.
My fortress of confidence quivered that day.
An upheaval there was, in my life that season.
With my raging soul, I failed to reason.

It made me drop my defenses.
It brought back to me, my senses.
Then on, I knew my calling.
I could afford no more falling.

That was the season of awakening
Those were the days of penance
That was the moment I rose
To regain, the paradise I had lost.

Dark Thoughts…Negativism takes over

If the truth you ever tell,
You’ll see your heaven turn to hell.
And be branded as a ‘bloody rebel’.
You cry, you scream or you yell,
Your family and friends will push you down the well.

The truth alone never triumphs,
Sure, it leaves you in the dumps.
The one who dares, the one who cares,
Is the one who always badly fares.

The world around demands you lie.
Definitely will you fly sky high.
Choose all wrongs, reject the rights.
Your life will be lit by a million lights.

So, my friends, I always say,
To make your days happy n gay,
Your conscience, your soul must u never trust.
For power, money, acceptance in the world, must you always lust.

Poetry?

During the tense build-up to the HSC exams, shuttling between college and classes, I started writing unstructured, hazy and confusing lines on books and notepads that I landed my hands on. I decided they could be called poems.

One very interesting thing about these ‘so-called’ poems is that I simply cannot write them when I am on a high, which most often I am. It’s only when I am in the worst of moods, only when I am stressed out that they come up. And during those times, I can simply not restrain myself from writing them.


The plea. ( One of the earliest ones I wrote.)

The sun rises with a golden mane
Yet, no hope, only pain.
When will these shackles break free?
Joy in every heart, when will we see?

Souls weeping in agony,
Is this is the power of money?
Poverty, we wish to bid u adieu,
Loosen your clutches, let go at least a few.

Millions of lives know only of despair,
Oh God! I plead that you be fair.
Suffering and afflicted many lie,
Unable to afford a humble pie.

Gnashing of teeth, losing of faith,
In love and care, must they bathe.
With Kindness, their spirits will revive,
Them mad, will happiness drive.

It is up to us the lucky ones,
To stop accumulation of wealth in tons.
Let us all be magnanimous,
And Help as we can without a fuss.

The calling

I have been a happy go lucky person by fate.

I had a childhood that was like a dream. School was fun. I was good at what they did there. Invariably I was every teacher’s pet. I still love and remember my teachers for the kind of high they gave me in life, that first push in confidence that has stayed with me all along. Being envied by every kid in class for the special attention I got was definitely a high, a complete ego-booster! Back at play, things were similar, a whole lot of fun.

I had the best parents ever. Even though it sounds clichéd, I cannot put it in any other way, because it is the truth. I cannot recollect a single episode of my parents being after my life to pick up my books and read. They never ever forced me or my sister to do that. But yes, they made it clear to us that the only goal we were chasing then, as students, was education. There were only two important activities in life, school and play. Coming from a Christian family there had to be the church and religion figured into our lives. I had Christian friends and cousins who would go to the church every Sunday, who would recite prayers by the dozen, in the morning, in the night, at every opportunity they chanced upon, but not me. My parents never told me a word about religion. They never taught me prayers to recite. They never introduced me to a concept called God that my friends would often discuss. Instead, they simply informed me about the rights and the wrongs. Today, I cannot thank them enough for having kept me away from rituals and religion, as a kid when I was most impressionable.

But, somewhere out of the blue, without any explanations whatsoever I started connecting to something within me. I started talking to myself. I started validating everything I did with myself. When, things would look messy I started surrendering to myself. I became a constant companion to myself. And the whole thing didn’t confuse me one bit. I do not recollect when the transition took place, but soon I started calling my constant companion God. I started striking deals with him. I would promise him goodness in return for things I thought were beyond my control. It became like a give and take relationship between us.

When I was in the fourth standard, my brilliant mind came out with a life-time deal with him. I promised him things that were beyond an innocent 8 year old in return for things that were again beyond the same innocent 8 year old. He accepted the deal. The pact was in place. Sounds unbelievable, but that day I found my calling. There have been phases in life when I have completely forgotten the pact, possibly violated it’s clauses. But He has forgiven and forgotten. Quite like me at that. Each time there was too much of a straying away; there was a miracle in my life. And I knew the signs. I returned.

I keep going.

Incorrigible...the word and it's meaning in my context

Incorrigible........'beyond correction'. That's what I mean when I brand myself with that word.

There have been moments of truth in Life. I have learnt many lessons. I cannot claim I learnt them correct. But whatever I have learnt will stay with me forever. I am beyond correction.

I am completely ruled by the heart. I disguise the fact. And I am a convincing actor. They tell me emotions are deceiving, the heart lets you down. I damn them. I am beyond correction.

There are rules that the society makes. I love people. I love society. I like to please people. I like to make them happy. But, I am ruled only and only by the heart. No compromise there. They call it rebellion. I am beyond correction.

I give without expecting. I am not calculative. They damn it as impracticality, I believe in karma. I am beyond correction.

I can go on and on about myself. They call it egotism. I cannot comprehend what they say. I am beyond correction.

I get started

Can't believe I am FINALLY about to join the bloggers bandwagon. Have decided to go beyond the diary habit and put it all out there, all that psycho babble that I used to keep restricted to that magical bind of papers( which I believed was where my soul resided, I still do.).

I do not know what to promise the readers of this blog...if ever there will be readers:), but this blog might just about capture the many moods that I go through, the zillions of thoughts that come to me, the millions of plans I make every passing minute, the never-ending ' Life's To Dos' I keep appending to my list every second in my bid to immortality.

I do not feel like I am at the crossroads of life, I dont have to eliminate options and choose the correct path. I know that all roads that I see in front of me are the ones that I want to take, none of them are mirages, none of them lead the wrong way. All of them are paths I have to move along. That's where I am stuck up.

I write this blog as a self-talk. So here they begin, the chronicles of the incorrigible soul.