A dream called life

I am an empty vessel
Sell me a dream called life

Hearing you talk of colours
That you want to paint your life with
I can almost feel the rhythmic beats of my heart
That once hosted a tree for little sparrows and parrots

Questions as many as nuerons in my head
A part of me fights me
For answers are not mine to know
For I don't deserve to know, yet, Would I ever be?

I am at one arm's length away from you and the world
Would you wait till I walk this distance myself
I don't want to miss this space between us ever
Would you be this person I trust blindly
Dangerous but that's the only way I know

Would you be the one who would take on the world
Just to stand by my side, for a second or two

That book on my bed

As I reduce the volume of breathtaking music

Dying words touch my ears and soul

Like a soft breeze while walking up hill

So I scribble my thoughts, thoughts

As serene as the tortoise

Sleeping on my couch

Yeah, it’s a beautiful morning

Beautiful only because of the way I feel 

Selfish I, I wish to share it with no one

This beautiful morning, except with

That book I left on my bed

Last night, when sleep betrayed my eyes

The Garden City and its delicate gardens

Over breakfast with a colleague, the chain of thoughts brought us to a conversation on the awesome weather Bengaluru has been known for since the time immortal. My colleague studied in the New Horizon college, which forms a nice view (of course for various reasons) from our cafeteria. In the early 2000s when she graduated from here, she said, it was in the middle of a dense forest. Well even today it is, however  it’s a concrete forest that surrounds the college now. Like everything mortal, the weather is certainly losing its charm.

On this Tuesday, the 28^th of February, Bengaluru recorded the highest temperature on a February Day in seven years!  Is that an indication of how the summer days are going to be this year? The 5 minutes walk from bus stop to my office is intolerable these days. 

Bengaluru is called the Garden city. I say lets stop putting the usual gardens in our city (oh, is nobody doing that as well?). No offense meant to the beautiful gardens, even I have enjoyed running and walking in many a gardens here.  But, have you been to the Mini forest area in J P Nagar? It is no less than a garden but I simply love the healthy trees there that stand tall with pride. I wish we start planting trees, the tall and dense ones, at least in our delicate gardens. 

I wait for those occasional rains and thunderstorms that hit Bengaluru during summers. Everyone does the same, WAITS! We need to step out and do something, at least stop more buildings and fly overs replace our unarmed trees.

Blurred

When life felt like a house of cards
Falling off the table with winds of failure
That visited often, I built and rebuilt my house.

Even though I wept all through the night
Heart break didn’t hinder my hike
For I knew the days would be bright.

But standing at the gate of the promised land,
I see no sunshine, I know not this fear of change
That clouds my sky and vision.

Less serious, less dramatic, more laughter.

When doubt creeps in through the front door
Fear sneaks through the cracks in the walls
And uncertainty forms a cloud blocking sunlight

Only weapon to defend my fort
Is that little faith hidden deep in my closet
That I must have been right when I chose this game

Wisdom tells me, fear is of the unknown
Which can't be beaten just by thinking
So let's be less serious, little less dramatic

Story that I tell...will always be incomplete!

How do I let you walk on my lawn
Would you only appreciate the sweet scent of flowers

Won't you see the crown of thorns, Though
My story lies not in the colors your inquisitive eyes see,

I feel I am betraying more than I can bear

Let you peep through a page of my book,
Sacred, what if only in my heart
Those delicate pages, are they not
The folding leaflets of a touch-me-not, Your soft hands,
Wont they leave behind finger prints

So I tell you only the highlights of my story
Letting you take the highways
while I guard my dirt filled country roads
A story lies in its minute details, So I bury my story
Away from all the archaeological excavations
Your interviewing eyes can dig.

Vairagya

Waited for so long that it felt you waited all your life
And when the door was knocked
You didn't run to welcome the long awaited guest.

Many reasons to rejoice but you don't dance no longer
Reasons to weep but your heart does not tremble
Is this a walk towards light?

Are you becoming the rock?
That never shouts when hit with a chisel
Never dances when rain drops kiss it's surface.