Monday, March 30, 2009

The Final Post?

Hello readers,
How many ever of you there are.
Thank you for reading everything that you have but I will be blogging elsewhere from now on. A period has come to an end and a new life is about to begin. There may not be any Clouds in the next Blog. I may not even be me.
If you ever find me, I'll see you there.
If not, Goodbye.

Be Peaceful

Saturday, March 7, 2009

The Wait

She waited at the coffee shop. The shadows lengthened and the new March leaves caught the evening light. Music played unnecessarily loudly in the background. Mean music with no great depth. But those were the kind of people she saw around her. A thin and short young man leaned behind his girlfriend as their friends took pictures with their mobile cameras. On another table, a large man with fluffy hair idled with the whipped cream on his frappe as he talked to his companion behind the wall. The wooden chairs partially reflected the light. The red cube lights near the counter were on. The walls were lined partially with wooden panels of a grayish brown colour. Pictures of different coffee related items were on the glass walls, on flip stands on the tables and behind the counter. The floor was tiled in smooth beige squares. There were a few empty tables but the atmosphere inside was loud. The outside, despite the passing traffic on the small road seemed quieter.

She wished the shop would have newspapers, if not books to read while waiting. After her late lunch though, she was glad to wait longer for something to drink. Had she been there for too long? She thought the working staff were giving her impatient looks. She felt like she must order something soon to avoid being thrown out.

Unlike the previous time, she didn’t feel very impatient and edgy, only restless and jittery. She had had a moderately good day and was hoping to go for a concert later. But she hadn’t found anyone willing or able to come.

Maybe she should’ve brought her own book, she thought. The shadows were even longer now and the evening light was dimming. She didn’t usually like waiting but this happened so rarely, that she really didn’t mind much. None of the nearby shops had books. Next time, she would plan for a place with an adjoining book shop.

And suddenly, her wait was over.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

The Last Few Days

So we approach the end of our days in this college. I have mixed feelings about it. Sometimes I’m happy thinking of how there will never again be a day full of just sitting in classes or listening to people who don’t make sense to me. Other times I feel a connection I’ve made with the people I’ve got to know, and with the campus that I think I will actually miss. There are some people I just don’t want to say bye to and others who I’ve just started getting to know and it feels like there was so much more I could’ve discovered that I now won’t have time to. I’m grateful to the teachers who have kept me sane and alive through all the frustrating times and have been dedicated to their noble profession even in such a rigid system.

But I wouldn’t stay here if I had a choice. I’m quite looking forward to the future, whatever that may be.

U Tear It Up

U tear it up
I pick up the pieces and reuse
U listen to cruel experiments without flinching
I feel sick and want to cry
U discuss slippers and handbags and criticise my hair
Can’t u see I don’t care?

U don’t care for culture or god
I yearn for both
U accept
I can’t understand sadism or a will to irritate or hurt

There is no romance for the philosopher
For anyone courageous, intelligent and self-aware
There is no dependence
I like my space.
I don’t stick to people
Maybe that’s why I don’t have many close friends

But there is angst of not being understood
Or perhaps it is a longing for like minds
We who love, care, feel, think, and learn

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

A Struggle for Balance

At the brink of a new life, yet so many memories of the bygone remind me of where I come from.
People I’ve known for so long now seem more precious with the little amount of time remaining.
I write in my head because there is no time to pick up the pen. The writer in me caged and unhappy. Creativity suppressed, Intelligence shown the door yet I cling to the potentially bright aspects.
“Plan as though you’ll live forever,” they say, “live as though it were your last day”. I struggle to find a balance. I want to run to the future. Or stay in the present without doing what is expected of me. To live peacefully, reading, listening to jazz, dancing alone and going for walks. But I sit at my desk and manipulate words, memorise names for a test or fill up mundane forms.
Reminders of how young and innocent I once was lie on the floor as I enter the house.
To recognize the phobias I’ve had for so long, influencing everything I do. And feel bored that so little has changed.
Excess information clogs my brain. It is an art and a habit to make everything simple complicated and want to simplify all mental inputs that are not. Maybe it’s not important because I overfeel, overspeak, overthink.
What is important? The past? Future? Present? All of them?
It’s a struggle for balance.


I looked forward
Now I can’t
This sudden Dread
Too fast, too shallow to dive
Going to crash
I had pressed the accelerator
What injuries to cause and suffer
Why am I reacting like this?
Messed up.
Of what?
What of the charmer? Scared child!
What of the powerful woman?
Cave- just a hollow
Being trapped, losing control

Tuesday, January 20, 2009


Where are you?
I’m here, waiting.
Full moon waned to half

Dew, you, like stars
Independent of the sun
Shining because you
Can’t help it.

Long enough after you
Are gone
You show me you’ll
Never be gone
You don’t see the
Ropes that bind you
I do.

I will not ask for you
And you will not ask for me.
But without asking
Will we know?

The sky is blue on
This white paper
It glows. And
You think you are mere human;
Mortal and free

One day I too will have ropes
But I’ll see them.

Time should not unwind
Undoing the sacred cant be right
Flow and burn as you do
And I, as you, will too.