mist and music

There is purity tucked in nooks and corners…

 

When you play the ‘tivra sa’ and there is that automatic chime with the sound...like heavens telling you that you have hit the right note.  There is nonchalance when it rains and all you see is water drops forming something of a mist...you ending up moist on the foot-board of the train not wet, not dry...something like love.

there must be God. has to be.

sifar

What have I invested in? 

I have “friends” some who refuse to recognize me now, some who are too far, some who were too near and suffocated to a final demise…resurrecting as strangers.

There are fleeting instances of meeting people that still happens but with the years that have passed and the people that I have “met”, “known” ,surreal instances that I have shared, everything dropping down to a state of nothingness; I am almost saturated, leading now to point zero.

For now I know, KNOW, that nothing stays.

Strangers that turn into friends turn back to being strangers.

Family that turns into being friends turns back to being family again. 

A naive 23 year old couldn't but now i understand this other “friend’s” need to walk away into a self imposed, abysmal quiescence.  

But what do I have to walk away from?

ek purana mausam lauta :)

yeah, indolence makes you do silly things sometimes and before you realize they turn out to be very interesting.

i was bored in office (as usual) i went through all my scraps  :)

from beginning [in orkut]

yeah yeah it sounds very mundane and silly...but i had so much fun. there are scraps from 2006 from people i do not even remember and what good rapport i seem to have shared with them.

on the other hand i have other friends who have stood through thick and thin.

there are people seem to have spoken to at length who don't feature in my friend's list anymore...whom i don't remember...i have links in my scrap book which are obsolete :)

i seem to have had long discussions spanning pages but i cant seem to recall the thought that sparked them.

i have been spoken to in code languages which supposedly had made me laugh and i cannot make the head and tails of it :P

like a trip down memory lane.

i felt so good about myself..like i have found myself with others, from others.

like i have been loved all along...lived all along...like there was a past and today will pass and one day again in future when i am bored i will look at this post of mine and again reminisce my days.

this probably is what old people think when they see pictures...when parents see their children grow up.

and suddenly the homesickness disappears and is replaced with a nostalgic-content-happy me :)

and i am reminded of this gazal...

     ek puraana mausam lauTa, yaad bhari purvayi bhi
aisa to kam hi hotha hai, wo bhi ho tanhaayee bhi

yaadon ki bauchaaroN se jab palke bheegne lagti hai
kitni soundi lagthi hai tab maanjhi ki ruswaee bhi

do do shakleN dikthi haiN is behke se aayine meiN
mere saath chala aaya hai aapka ik saudayee bhi

khamoshi ka haasil bhi ik lambi si kamoshi hai
unki baath suni bhi humne, apni baat sunayi bhi

..smiling...

........blah, blah and then some more blah................. Yeah and ‘I, ME and (a lot of) MY-SELF”

1...2....3....4.....5..... [elves ringing tune]......”dhan tana tana nana....kya aap nayi...” blah blah...beep...beep...aarrgghhh!!!

Ok how embarrassing it is to keep waiting for the phone to ring and it does not.
Not waiting for any particular phone calls just any other phone call, but no, the phone does not ring.
It just stays. Ok now you scan the contact list for someone to call...hmm...1.what to talk about...2.naah out of balance...std call...3...blah...blah...aaarrgghhh!!!!
What happens when you want to talk to somebody, just about anybody and you can’t? You have people around you but you instead have your earplugs on even if there is no music playing.

This is the blank, blunt, sometimes numbing phase succeeding that phase of your life when you have lived with the phone.
Slept talking on the phone and woke up not to the sound of the alarm bell but your phone vibrating because of an impending call.
I hated it so much so that my phone was on silent/off/offline mode all the time. And today I want that to happen sometimes at least. Yeah I do want that to happen. I check my phone the last dialed call was about timed to a time 20 hours ago. Sad life.

Sleepless nights spent thinking of a single moment...”ek lat suljhane me saari raat guzari hai”...yup that feeling...today the whole night is spent thinking of something to think about...some food for thought is it?? My thoughts are starving then...

I had a yearlong writer’s block [not that I am a writer or something]. I am writing again but then I lack inspiration, I am more indiscriminate, more random, it is good in a way, but I am becoming sillier, that is food for my humour maybe.
See, my writing lacks structure.
Yesterday I was five colours in a single day, unbelievable but true, I was pink in the morning, (both literally and physically), then I was yellow as soon as I reached office, laughed so hard that my back hurt (yeah it goes the other way round here), then I was black, mood to kill, like serious kill, then I turned neutral, beige (??), then I was white with little hints of blue, the shade got deeper after some time, and then till i slept i was pissed off enough to turn grey.....
....yeah the phone stays. It just bloody stays.
........................

Okay why did i write this?
Why did i write the line above this line or this line??
Is it actually my inability to talk, maybe the writer’s(????) block was because of my never ending phone calls and my keeping shut for my own good. And the block has been taken off and the writing is flooded because i am just basically talking and like some wise ol’ lady said “talking isn’t necessarily conversing’.
So this is basically me conversing with myself.

........................

...hmmm..."tanhai ne fursat di hai"

life.

Speak of life in a miniature scale.
Speak of life as an amalgamation of the various moments when one has been touched…speak of touch.
Life, they say, is not the measure of the number of breaths we take.
It is, rather, the moments which take our breaths away. Moments when we encounter those stray smiles, stolen kisses, chance contacts and coincidental meetings. The smile one gets from the furthest corner of the room, accompanied with a wink, when you are on the other extreme;
When you are the one without the smile; in a split second the widest grin is yours.
The drama is unseen by the ‘others’.

The chance bouts of alone-ness in a room packed with people, with an awareness of self and the surety with which magnanimous life decisions are taken.
The holy speech about life, unearthing profound truths delivered. All this unheard by everyone; but the applause… The applause is loud and clear.
The eyes of that stranger hold you and say a thousand words. The words unheard but the feeling stays on...like the wind unseen but the warmth felt.
Life is paradoxical most of the times.
The most noise is made by a guilty mind, in utter silence;
Its retreat and reclusion though, is in the maddening crowd.

Life is all about the unheard voices. It is all about the whispers and shrieks.
...................................................................

this was a very old post of mine. today when i was going through my own blog it made so much sense to me.like i had written it yesterday. couldn't help posting it again as a new one.for today.

“I look over your shoulders, out of the window…
I see raindrops!
Do you see them?”
Aye, comes the answer…

I see raindrops from a source so sweet.
When I kiss your hand, on your cheeks they drip.
Out they come from vessels that hold secrets deep.
Aye! I see raindrops sweeter than these.


written on july 1st.
was getting bored in office, and it started raining.
i saw raindrops right ouside my window!!