..when the mind ceases to think..

...some organized incoherence.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Sometimes you get it right the first time.
Then you go on further to prove the very same by failing at everything else.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Dear you,

You’re missed.

But this time I know why. I’m not sure what you’re up to but at the very least I hope you’re safe and well.

I think at this point I can aptly peg you as half a dream. If there wasn’t a history of our IM conversations that I could refer to, I’d actually begin to question your existence and consequently my sanity. Kudos on being so frustratingly elusive. Anyways, all I know is that I conspire to slow the time when you’re there, and I wish for your presence and wellness when you aren’t.

You know, you work in odd ways. After trying to put my life together in the past year, desperately seeking some form of clarity amidst the perpetual trepidations and keeping your silent voice as my starting point, I have finally begun to find a direction. For the life of me, I have no idea as to what role you're supposed to play in my life but it is enough for me to try harder and pave a path towards you. Whether it materializes or not, or whether you’re there at the other end or not is something I leave in god’s hands. If something happens, then I’d luck out, and if not, you can have your consolation that I learnt to try my best.

I also wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for putting you off…a recurring pattern in our past few conversations. I don’t know how things are for you but I probably didn’t make it any easier from my side. I wish there was some fine way to convince you that you can confide in me and allow me to help in whatever way I can. Is it really so hard?

Till now, being a realist I’ve patiently waited for an excuse to write you off and I haven't been able to find any, so now I’ve decided to breathe life back into the dreamer and have both conspire a way to steal you. One day…

Until then, I’ll silently play along whenever you choose to drop by in my “demi-dreams". Stay well.

Indefinitely yours,


Friday, October 09, 2009

-[55]- Reminiscence -[55]-

I can't help but wonder how things would’ve been if you were alive. We'd be laughing and dreaming for years to come. That's not to say I regret the fatality; I just want to go back in time for a moment when your life was celebrated almost daily. Be well. You're in a better place.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

The ugly ducklings

He wasn't exactly sure how or where his life began. The earliest memory he had was of standing on the cold concrete floor of a rundown orphanage in a rural village, shivering with cold and fear. He didn't remember who had brought him there, or why, but it was the first home for him.

Every once in a while he'd witness the adoption ritual where a couple or a family would come to the orphanage to pick one of them. All the kids would be decorated and presented as adorable as possible while they'd wait with hope and foreboding, well overdue for fate's blessing. They'd all be stood up in a line till one was picked and taken to a new familial home.

He, along with the remaining children, would wonder what they lacked for they were never picked. Why were they not deserving of such generosity? Eventually he began to hide, evading all eyes behind a shelf or under a bed whenever someone would come to adopt, till one day he got caught.

The seeker was an old professor who used to visit the orphanage on a regular basis on his way home. He was a widower with a young daughter with whom he had lacerated all ties once she married the man of her choice against his wishes. He now chose to live alone with his time shared between solitude and loneliness.

The old man crept down and asked him gently, "Hey, were you crying?" The little face with dried streams of saline waters shook in denial. The old man continued, "But you know it's good to cry, because when it rains a lot you get to see a rainbow. Have you seen one?" The four year old nodded with a whispered 'yes'.

That was all it took. He left his first home with the old professor the next day.

Blessed. Finally.

Based on wonderment and a scene from the Pakistani play - Dhoop Kinarey

Friday, July 17, 2009

-[55]- Missing soul -[55]-

The sacred fire was lit. The decorated bride sat next to it along with her groom, motionless. Foreboding had kept her company before it humbly bowed out to usher in the eventuality.

The rituals finally concluded.

The deceased soul laid still among the burnt wood and ashes, mother to a newborn obedient and stoic wife.

Friday, June 19, 2009


Let's synthesize all we can't have and claim that we do
We know they can't tell, we'll pretend neither can you
We play a zero-sum game, you and I
Except I refuse to lose, and you refuse to die
So let's silence me and give contentment a chance
And take a breath out of this pernicious trance
Let's casually sincerely thank god for our next breath
Even if we stay guilt stricken for them all till death

Monday, June 15, 2009


Don't you just love the teenagers who bash the heart with every cliché they can come across just to be different? Say hello to the 18 year old me. Have a good laugh.

And I don't seem to understand
Why I still hang onto this thin strand
Of hope that merely drowns me deeper
In this sea that leads me nowhere

I'm drowning...I'm breaking...
Falling from the blood drenched cloud nine
I'm bleeding just to see you alive

I'm fighting a fight I know I've lost
Thrown behind the lines I once crossed
I'm fading in the mist of the morning
I'm drowning in the rainy tears of heaven
Sinking in the deep placid sea
I bleed for you and me

And I'm falling...and I'm hurting...
Fading away into lost memories...
Losing myself in my surreal dreams

And I can't seem to accept this end
I'm broken but I still pretend
Clinging onto my recurring dream
Where you reach out just to leave me

Now I've fallen and I am broken
There's no more hurting, no more bleeding
I see some hope, and within you remain
Once I'm dead, you'll be close again

You're too far...you're too far...